Nirvana Effect

44



From the edge of the jungle, Edward could see the spark of a few of the cooking fires lit up in the village. The relatively colossal temple of Manassa dominated the landscape over the little huts.

Edward spotted Nockwe’s hut in the foreground. His black family flag still flew over the roof. Nockwe rules another day. The chieftain must have recovered some of his health. Though the tribe knew he was weak, no one else must have challenged him.

Edward felt an odd sort of relief. He had hoped that Nockwe would still be living when he returned. There was a definite kinship between them that Edward could not explain.

Edward felt the trance starting to slip. He wasted no time in popping another t-pill. He was in the belly of the beast, now.

Almost instantly he felt a resurgence of his consciousness. This could become a very painful parallel to chain smoking.

Only a few Onge women maundered around their fires in the early morning. Dawn’s pale tones were leaking into the sky. In another half hour, the night would evaporate.

Edward evaluated the scene. He knew the village like the back of his hand. He skirted around the edge of it until he could get a good view of the temple. Two warriors guarded the front entrance, weapons at the ready. He hadn’t expected that. That was quite a change since a few days ago, and another clue that Mahanta had hidden plans.

Edward needed a diversion.

A cooking shack was situated only a few meters from the temple. It had been converted from a house to prepare Manassa’s “holy food”. Edward saw smoke already billowing out of its side.

He scampered into the village, careful to avoid the eyes of Onge women making their morning rounds. He wriggled through a hole in one of the walls in the shack.

Edward took only an instant to survey the primitive kitchen. A hog roasted on a spit, and a pot of cooking grease lay nearby. Edward grabbed the pot and pitched the grease all over the walls. He used a pair of tongs to hold a burning log up against the corner of the wall and straw roof. The grease and the roof lit quickly.

Edward turned from his handiwork to find himself face to face with a large Onge woman holding a bowl of water in her arms. Edward knocked the bowl out of her hands and waved the blazing log inches from her face. “TAUN!” he shouted, the ancient curse of the witch doctor that Edward had heard during Mahanta’s coming-of-age. He had no clue what he said.

The woman’s eyes jolted wide. She fled screaming, “White devil! White devil! White devil! The fire!” That worked too well. Edward wriggled out of the shack as the guards ran to investigate.

Edward edged out of their line of sight, their vision burned out by the building fire. He made it to the temple entrance undetected. He knew he didn’t have much time, maybe a few minutes before the guards checked the temple after putting out the fire.

Edward saw Manassa poised serenely on his throne, his eyes closed in meditation. Long purple banners hung from the ceiling on either side of the god’s throne. That’s new. New guards, new ornaments. As soon as Edward set foot into the hut, Manassa said, “Hello, Edward.” He still hadn’t opened his eyes. His voice boomed out across the open space.