THE NATURE OF BOATS:

A Political Parable

By David Oliver-Godric

            Three men in a boat, far at sea. A woodpecker sits on the top of the mast. Every day the bird flies down and pecks holes in the boat. The men then bustle about: one bails water; one fixes the hole; one proclaims, “It is the nature of this boat to grow holes. It is pointless to keep fixing them.” While the men are busy, the bird flies down and steals some of their food and water.

            Days go by and the men grow weaker. Sensing this, the bird pecks two holes and steals more of the food and water. Each day thereafter he pecks one more hole than the day before. Finally, the man who bails water says, “The woodpecker is the cause of all our trouble.” The man who fixes holes answers, “We should climb the mast and kill the woodpecker.” The third man repeats, “It is just the nature of this boat to grow holes. It is no use trying to stop it.”

            The first two look at each other and reply, “It is quicker and easier to fix the holes and bail water than to climb all the way to the top of the mast and kill the bird, which would be just wrong anyway. Besides, it might just fly away for a while then come right back as soon as we climb back down. It is useless to try to kill the woodpecker.”

            More days pass and the woodpecker pecks many more holes. The man patching is running out of ways to plug them. Both he and the man who bails now constantly complain about the holes and the water and the bird.

            Suddenly the man who claims it is the nature of boats to grow holes exclaims, “Oh for cryin’ out loud! I’m sick and tired of hearing about the holes and the water and the woodpecker! I can’t stop the holes from growing, and I won’t bail water, but by God, I can get rid of the woodpecker!” He leaps up, cuts the ropes to the mast, and saws it right off at the deck. It falls into the water and drifts away behind the boat. The bird, out of habit, lands back on the floating mast.

            The men never have another hole, and in fact reach land shortly thereafter.

From Alliance Book 2: Evolution rewrite

Lest you all think I wandered off...I have been editing! Here's a great scene that foreshadows much of what's to come. Chief Fisheagle and her pet Raccoon Nosey have just died and Midnight has passed through the first wave of grief.

Hawk looks thoughtfully at me, still silent though as if he knows somehow there’s more.

         "I just feel that there is something else for me to be doing. Something that better suits my nature." I look down at my hands, then up at Hawk with an embarrassed grin. “I crave some action. I have felt most useful when I have some critical mission to accomplish. I also miss being outside, doing physical things. If I sit at my desk all day, I’ll get round like…Nosey.” I choke back another round of sobs, blink my tears away. Hawk squeezes me tight, holding me safe. After a time silently struggling with my feelings, I continue, “At the same time, I feel guilty for not wanting to be Chief, as Fisheagle asked.”

         “If he had known how you are feeling, he wouldn’t have asked it of you. I think you need to circulate around. See what projects are on the go. Talk to people about what needs doing, or what is planned. You will find a mission. There are so many things happening that I can’t keep up with them all. But to do that, you will have to get off this bed and get out in the sunshine! Find some trouble to get into. That will make you feel better!” He grins.

         I smile back. “You’re right. But what will we do for a River chief?”

         He falls silent “I will consult with the community and see if they want me to become Chief of the River People. If they consent, I will do it. You need to speak with Shin, as Fisheagle asked, and visit the map room, with a thought to where your talents and inclinations would be most useful.”

         “Perhaps some cha’ and conversation in the lodge. I might even find Shin there. The walk will do me good as well.” I look him in the eyes. “Thank you, for the talk and the comfort. I don’t really feel better, but now I have room for some good thoughts in my heart and mind, and you have guided me to a plan, perhaps a path out of the dark lands of loss.

***

            I do find Shin at the lodge. He has his own table in a corner that allows some privacy and for once he isn’t already talking to someone, so I slide into the seat across from him. He smiles, tentatively, sympathy bridges the culture gap. "Come for more sage advice on the workings of gods, spirits, and men's minds?"
            I actually laugh. "Of course, oh source of wisdom and dirty secrets!"
            Shin grins back, an evil sparkle in his eyes. "Glad to see you back with the living. The dead are so depressing."
            That strikes right to the source of my pain. I sober instantly, lose the smile and nod my head. "I need some action. I've been stuck behind a desk for way too long. I thought that you and I could put our heads together and come up with some nefarious scheme to make the world more to our liking. It has gotten a bit untidy, and you know how I hate that."
            His lips quirk at one corner and he looks at me straight. "I have been thinking about that devious mind of yours lately, and what a waste it is to leave that talent leashed. You would be wasted at administration." He pauses a moment, scanning my expressions. "I didn't think you would be available just yet. How are you really?"
            "Hawk helped me through it. I'm sad, but thinking about the future, and I'm focused, or will be, as soon as you come out with your idea!"
            He bows his head at me in acceptance of my assessment. “He is good for you. I hope he is solid enough to endure. Here's my thought. It's not really fleshed out, but the woman who took command and out thought the enemy at Highwater at every turn, is more than capable of figuring it out as you go."
            His voice lowers, forcing me to lean in to hear. "You know that the Norse are facing a cultural shift that they don't want. We will have to find a home for them. They will not play well with our people, so we can't just settle the Norse in the middle of them. Still, they are fabulous allies for what will come to us later." He pauses for a long breath. "South of us there is a strip of land connecting us to another continent as big as this one."
            I feel my eyes go big and round. "I've heard nothing of this!"
            "No one has, except my spies. They range farther afield than the scouts, and we found some old stories and a map from the Empire that tell a tale. Song ships have been down the west coast before, but that was a closely guarded secret that somehow got lost for a long time. The spymasters of the day felt that it was knowledge whose time had not come yet. Zahn's voyages were...unexpected. As soon as word came of new goods from the east, we knew that the time has come, whether we are ready or not."
            "You still work for the Empire then?" My attention level rises to extreme.  

            "Spymasters have always worked for the good of the Empire, whether the Emperor knew about it or not. There have been good Emperors, and some not so good. Someone had to keep the Empire safe regardless. We are currently in a cultural and economic high. That is one sign of impending disaster. Sure enough, the nomad tribes, the Liao to the north and the so-called Xia northwest of us, are considering invasion, and they have the numbers as well as the will. The Empire is at a peak of culture and civilization never seen in the world before. This is a sign that a fall is inevitable...unless..."
            "The Alliance..."
            "Yes. Alliance works both ways, you know. I admit to having mixed loyalties. I wish to protect the Empire, even from itself. This is a task of honor, which I have long since taken up willingly. I have also come to love and admire what the Alliance is becoming. You are a truly new kind of society I feel that same need to serve and protect it. Fortunately, there is no conflict at this time. I dearly hope matters stay that way."

            I look deep into Shin's eyes. I see no wavering or other signs of dishonesty, but then he is a Spymaster. "I believe that you have been truthful, as much as you can be. I will keep your secrets unless I sense betrayal. Then I will deal with it as I see fit at the time, and you know how I like to deal with problems." I beam a brilliant grin at him, but my eyes are cold and glinty like midwinter ice.

            Shin bows his head a notch, smiling gently. "That is my hope. With training, you will become at least as devious as I am, and women are often better at this trade than men. You will learn some things that you will wish you hadn't, and some things that will haunt you. My last bit of general advice for today is to keep that warrior mindset that has served you so well and add to it the skills that I will teach, and the knowledge base that I will give you. Never become comfortable in any situation. The ones you would most like to trust are the ones that can take you down."

            I shiver a bit with that last warning but nod. "I will take your words to heart, dear friend. Where do I start?"

            "I suggest you start in the map room. Much is changing on the walls. Try to burn it all into memory. You don't know where you might end up, and you may have to find your way out of somewhere that you haven't been before, in a hurry. I spend an hour a day in there. You have also gotten a bit soft, physically. I will have one of my men work out with you every day. He will show you our martial arts, which are quite sophisticated. That will make for an excellent story for any that are curious what you are doing. You have time."

            "Thank you Shin. I will do my best. This sounds like exactly what I need right now." "If there is nothing else, I think I will wander over to the map room and see what is new!"

            He nods, with a twist of a smile. "How does Hawk feel about all this? You two make a great team. Does he feel the same?”

            That takes me by surprise. “We talked, and he seemed willing to stay here, but he wasn’t happy about separation, and neither am I, for that matter. He has been my partner and right hand. I Shin in the eyes. “Thank you for thinking about him. I wonder…”

Alliance is in editing mode, this time with some pro help.

I'm challenged, stretched, pushed down a path with road signs! It's a growing thing. I have despaired that I could ever make this story deliver what I imagine for it, but I think it will hit the mark when I finish this round of edits. Patience a little longer. We are getting there!

Revised section of 'One Canoe'

One canoe comes from the north. One man rows it. He alone is untouched by death. He glides in silence up to the wharf at Rivergrass, ties the canoe off to a piling, and just sits there, not touching the shore or even the wharf.

         Zahn's ship still rides at the end, and two of Zahn’s men stand watch. One of the guards, Chan-Su, walks down the ramp and approaches the lone man in his canoe.

         The man waves him away, pointing at the longhouse.

         "Kiapelaneh, and Zahn." is all he says.

         Chan-Su looks back at the ship, then runs to the plank and shouts to the other guard, "I must go to the longhouse!"

         His partner waves, and Chan-Su runs to get his captain. Inside the lodge he goes straight to Zahn, and whispers what he's seen, and heard.

         Zahn stands, turns to Wei, who is closest, "A man in a Haida canoe has just arrived. He wears a hood over his face, and he won't get out of his canoe. He speaks the language of the Empire and asks for Kiapelaneh and myself."

         Wei nods, goes first to Hawk and Midnight. Fisheagle swivels around to listen as Wei quietly explains the situation. His Halq’uemehlem is quite good now. 

         The hall is silent. Everyone is watching, sensing that something significant is happening. Fisheagle stands, waving urgently to Kiapelaneh, who rises and joins them. They speak for a moment, then stride urgently out the doors toward the wharf, Wei, Zahn and others following. A buzz rises in the hall.

         The Rivergrass chief gets there first. He approaches the man in the canoe, but the man waves him back. He sees the others coming and waits until they are closer. Then he tells them what has happened at the Haida village. He describes the illness starting as a mild affliction, like the stomach sickness that comes around every year. Then he tells how it progresses. He speaks of hundreds of bodies, and the scarring and crippling after effects on the survivors. He begs for help but tells them again to keep their distance.

         Zahn listens to the story with growing horror. He grabs Kiapelaneh by the arm, and waves Wei over.

         "I know what this is."

         Wei translates for all to hear, and all eyes are on Zahn.

         "We call it the small pocks, because it leaves small round scars in the skin of the survivors. Do you not have this here?"

         All of the natives shake their heads.

         Zahn groans. This whole place has never been exposed to the disease. It kills untold numbers every year, especially in remote parts of the Empire. He collapses into a sitting position on the wharf. He doesn't know how but knows that he brought it. The timing is too perfect. The disease takes about twelve days to show. Within a moon, many are dead, more scarred and crippled.

         Zahn motions to Wei. "We are immune. Get this man food and drink, but do not touch him. He may still have the disease about him.”

         Wei runs to the longhouse.

         Zahn waits, as does everyone else, for Wei to get back. Wei returns with several others bearing blankets and preserved food, placing the supplies on the edge of the wharf within the man’s easy reach, then speaks to the crowd. Then Zahn speaks to the crowd again, “You need to know that we have this disease where we come from. It is in all the lands that we usually trade with. It kills many and cripples more. Somehow, it must have travelled with us. None of my people were sick, so I have no idea how it travelled..." Understanding bursts in his mind with a sudden memory: The vendor that approached him just before he departed from the main island of the Heian people, just northeast of Shanghai, on the way. The vendor seemed almost desperate to sell a few bolts of silk very cheap. Zahn naturally pounced on the deal, thinking the seller was in financial difficulty, perhaps they were even stolen. Provenance is no matter to him. He explains what he is thinking. "The disease shows within twelve days of exposure, so none of my people could have carried it. It had to have been in the silk, dormant. When they unrolled the cloth..." He can't go on as horror overwhelms him.

         Wei translates, then explains to the natives that the disease can't be on any of the other trade goods, and that the Haida had taken all of the cloth that they picked up on the island.

         Zahn looks up, finally. "The survivors must be isolated, or the disease will spread like fire in a summer dry forest. There is no cure, but…our healers know how to make people immune. It is a simple thing.” His face has a haunted look, his eyes shadowed, reflecting the darkness in his soul.

         Fisheagle speaks. "Can you bring one or more of these medicine men here, to teach us how to protect ourselves from this?"

         Zahn nods. "With what you have brought here, I can bring several. They can teach you how to make the medicine. If it has never been in this land, then it will be a huge project to stop it. Every person has to be treated, and every child that is born, or it will be loose to kill. Sooner or later you will begin to have more contact with the outside world when I take this load of goods back to my markets. More ships, more chance that the disease is carried here." He stands and looks around at all the people there. "I am responsible for this. I will do everything that I can think of to help."

Hey, it's just a story. Who cares if it really could have happened. It didn't, and that world will never be. If the massacres, the diseases, the denial of humanity to the survivors had never happened, you and I would not be sitting comfy in our toasty warm homes, with our sense of superiority, voting for the next bunch of thieves, just like us, scrabbling for whatever advantage we can take from someone else, because that is the game that our ancestors created. Everyone that matters is playing, so it must be right, eh?

UPDATES Alliance edit and Zephyr

So, the first versions of Alliance Metamorphosis, first book in the series, was written in third person with an omniscient narrator. It was clunky. I kept banging away at it because the story is great, but I have been despairing that I could make it a captivating read. Brainstorming with an editor who has seen the original, I decided to try first person present, alternating the narrative point of view between Midnight and Hawk. Bingo! Eureka! YES!!! I've cleaned up the clunky prose and filled a lot of additional description into it. What a difference. Here's an excerpt:

            We are all tired. The attack has given us renewed energy, for a at least a few days. The refugees are sure now that they have made the right choice, but it has been a hard march. The elders are not used to this level of exertion, and the young have lots of energy, for a while, but are often tired from the sustained travel. There have been no more incidents, just the trail that has begun to seem endless to all of us.

            I recognize the three white stones beside the trail that mark Hawk's Camp, smiling at the memories. I’m excited to see what Hawk has accomplished at Highwater. I haven't let myself think too hard about Hawk. I miss him terribly, but I’ve had to keep focused on my other family and the refugees, and get there, safely.

            Debating whether to push on and arrive after dark, or camp once more and rest for the night, I decide to ask the refugees and call a halt. They all just drop to the ground to rest. Nosey climbs out of his bag and drops to the ground. After a few minutes, Seabird and Boomer come in from their scout routes. I wave them over to me. Half the troop is asleep with their packs still on by the time they get to me. 

            Gesturing towards the three stones, "We are most of a day out yet." I scan the refugees. More are asleep now. "Do we push on, or camp here?" Boomer and Seabird both say, "Camp." I nod, and they set about rousing everyone, and getting them moved off the trail. I show them the hide, and suggest the young children sleep inside. They will all just fit. Some of the people volunteer to gather wood. Our food is almost gone, but we have enough for everyone to have a small meal. The scouts have dropped a few rabbits and birds during the day. One of the mothers is getting a fire going with twigs and bark chips.

Several others spread out to forage what they can find to eat in the area. Seabird and Boomer go hunting, along with the men with new bows, and a few more that have brought theirs. A couple of women build three more fire pits and get them lit. I don't object. We are close enough to safety that there won't be any more enemy scouts lurking around, and if there are, there are several good people with weapons roaming the woods right now, looking for prey.

            The hunters bring back a good meal. It’s too early for hibernation, and the other animals are out and about all the time. We feed as well as we can and sleep well. The war has become real to all of us, so no one falls asleep on watch.

Zephyr is complete! A new Fantasy/Sci-fi Novella.

Tallis Boone finds an ancient native mask while cleaning up her yard after a wild spring storm on the Oregon coast. She looks through its eyes and sees thousands more masks flying through space, towards her! Frightened, she pushes the mask away and hides it in her basement. She doesn't know it yet, but this is her first brush with the last of the ancient Masks of Power.

It's the beginning of an adventure that will impact everyone on Earth, and beyond, saving billions of beings from certain death, while empowering the first peoples of the Americas, since they are the only mask makers left. All they need is a blueprint, and the galaxy is theirs. 

Chapter 18

            “Tom, don’t talk yet.” I’m feeling his body next to mine, never sure it’s real, but it feels real. “Are you real?”

            “Um, can’t you tell?”

            “Hmmmm, something does feel familiar.”

            “I can’t help that. You feel so good, so... solid. I’ve been...not so solid for a long time.”

            “Way too fucking long. Shut up and kiss me.”

            I feel another body slam into the thing that is Tom and me. I look down and see a tousled head beside us, Alice. We stay like that for a while.

            “Um, there’s a couple of us that really want to know what just happened.”

            I come up from the honey jar that is the three of us. “Yeah, I want answers too.” I push Tom away, not really wanting to, and not letting go, but I get it. “Tom! Front and center. Folks here want answers, and you’re the one that’s got ‘em.”

            Tom straightens his clothes that got a bit mussed. I straighten my own and step towards the people. “This is my husband, Tom. He went into the mask,” I turn to Tom, “right?”

            “Yes.”

            “Ok. And he’s back. I have questions, you have questions. I will now shut up and step back so y’all can interrogate him and we will all know what the hell just happened here.”

            Tom stands up straight, tucks his shirt back in from when I accidentally tried to take it off of him a minute ago. “Hi everybody! I’m Tom, if you hadn’t got that. I’m Tallis’s other half. Yes, I went into the mask. I met a woman named Sue, who told me what was going on here, and that Tallis was coming after me. I figured the smart thing to do was to come back. I probably don’t have all the answers you’re looking for, but I have some. The masks are a portal that goes both ways. Coming back is easy, if the mask has been here and still exists. The problem is that most of the masks have been destroyed by invaders from somewhere. It’s not just us though. The enemy came to our galaxy from outside. They fed on the masks, for the energy, we think. The one here hid. It is the last from our world. But...we can make new ones. That was what I went after. Several designs are imprinted in my memory. We just need to start making them, and we can reclaim all those that were lost. Got any mask makers here?”

            About a dozen hands slam up.

            “We’ve got work to do.”

            I put my hands on my hips and got right in his face. “Not just yet you don’t. I need some personal time.” I consider. “Two days. Then we can go to work. Not before.”

            I grin at the cackles from most of the women. They knew what I was talking about.

Zephyr new!

Sue nodded, then shook her head. “Tallis the powerful and Alice of Wonderland with a mask of power. You two just radiate mystery and adventure. And yet,” she cocks her head, peering up into my eyes. “you hid the mask after you found it.”

            “Yes.”

            “You shouldn’t have done that.” She stands, silent. I hear in my mind the ‘tic, tic, tic’ of several seconds going by. “It might’ve been content to live with you all for a while, before displaying its power. I believe it became impatient, and when an opportunity arrived to return, it took it, and your man. Was he a good man?”

            I nod, and out of the corner of my eye I see Alice doing the same.

            “See? If you were a powerful being, would you rather be stuck in a box in a dark basement, or out playing in the universe with a new friend?” She crosses her arms and shakes her head at the ground before looking me in the eyes again. “What would you do?”

            I’m in shock. Suddenly I am the child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I’m also rethinking everything I’ve done since finding the mask. Was I just being selfish, or overprotective? “I didn’t know...”

            Sue slowly shakes her head while holding my eyes with her intense gaze. “That’s why the old stories must be told. You would’ve known, and you would’ve had an epic experience with your whole family. The key to the universe was given to you...and you put it in a box in the basement.”

            I turn to Alice. She has that face for when she is building up to a major blow up. “Alice, I was afraid of it. I was afraid for us! I didn’t know.”

From Zephyr, a new project. For more, visit my FaceBook page.

Chapter 8

            Three weeks later I am starting to get really anxious. Waiting on something really important sucks. Time slows to a crawl. I look at the wall clocks or my phone and minutes have passed. I quit looking. Now I am listening for the ‘ding’ of an email or the ring of the phone. The parents phoned a couple of times and I blew them off, politely but firmly. How can I tell Tom’s parents that he is on some sort of cosmic walkabout? They’d think I buried him in the back yard or something. My parents probably thought Tom and I were having a big fight and I didn’t want to talk about it. Neighbors are easier. I just start complaining about something that I know they hate to talk about, like politics or religion. A few are Catholic, so I vehemently condemn the Pope for not dealing harshly with the pedophiles in the clergy. Not to mention, which of course I do, the Crusades and the massacres of indigenous peoples. 

            The Protestants, which most folks are around here, get the spiel about the lavish lifestyles of the church leaders, the giant mansions, and their globetrotting visits to the most expensive resorts for “conferences” on the number of starving children in Africa, or some such. I went to an international one in Europe once, feeling guilty after seeing some of the news reports on child soldiers in Africa, and massacres in Central and South America. I watched the stretch limos roll up to the conference center, and all the preachers and their wives wearing clothes, furs and jewelry worth tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars, strutting in like royalty. I stuck out the trip, seeing as how I’d already paid for it. The meals were fit for kings and queens. The preachers were all in the most expensive rooms and suites. Their entourages took up several floors of the hotel. If I hadn’t booked early in advance, I’d have been down the street and around a few corners from the venue. 

            That soured me on organized religion for good. Our local pastors and preachers were mostly youngsters, wives playing the organ for services, still working their way into the hierarchy, and they did try, until it got serious. Then they said a lot of platitudes that meant nothing and helped less. I quit going to church. That was about the time I realized that the local businessmen and women were using the church as a networking opportunity. When the rose-colored glasses finally break, you suddenly see clearly, and it aint pretty.

            So, I was pretty much left alone to do what I needed to do, which was waiting for a phone call.

            It finally comes. Dan’s ringtone is the first few bars of ACDC’s Thunderstruck. It seems appropriate. 

            “Hey Dan! I thought you might have found another, more interesting mask or something. What’s happening?”

            “Hi Tallis. I’m sorry it has taken so long. A couple of things were at play. First, you really have no idea what a big thing this is to the community. I said before, the mask is validation of our occupation of this land for at least fifteen centuries. That has possible legal implications, worldwide. More so in Canada, where many bands have never signed treaties, as I think I said before. I’ll go into that a bit more in person. You should come down to the office tomorrow morning at eight. Alice is welcome too. She’s a bright girl. I think she’ll find this very interesting. I can tell you that I have the latest test results. They were done by the Smithsonian’s own labs. The word “Shitstorm” describes it well. Anyway, you’ll learn a lot more when you get here.”

            “Ok, how should we dress?”

            Dan cracks up. He’s almost howling. When he stops gasping, “Don’t worry about it. Rags are probably not appropriate, but anything comfortable is my suggestion. It will be a long day.”

            “Oh. Thanks Dan. I was sooo wanting to wear my new Versace red carpet dress, but I’ll tone it down.

            Dan cracks up again. “Aaaah! You’re killing me!” He takes a few deep breaths. “Just go with the flow tomorrow. You guys will be fine. One day you’ve got to tell me where you got that sense of humor.”

            “That’s easy, marriage and motherhood. It’s the only way to survive them both.” Dan is still cackling as I hang up. Yeah. I really like the guy. What the hell do I do with that?

            I go in search of Alice. I don’t have to search far. She innocently wanders out of the kitchen.

            “So, what’s up Mom?”

            “I suspect you heard my side of the conversation, so here’s the short version.” I repeat all the important parts of what Dan said.

            “Ok. You like him don’t you.”

            “Oh, girl. Don’t even go there. I don’t know what the hell is going on. Tom has disappeared, we have an ancient mask that the whole freaking world is interested in, or will be when word gets out and honestly, I don’t know what I think or feel. Let alone what I should do about it.”

            Alice nods. “I get that. Just remember the good times. We are a family, and family doesn’t walk away.”

            I choke. “ALICE! I’m NOT walking away from your Dad. I’ve got more years than you have with Tom. The good always outweighed the bad, which was NEVER really bad. He was the one that completed me. I just don’t know what...” I can’t say any more for a couple of minutes. Tears are leaking out.

            Alice gives me an owly look and retreats to the kitchen. I take a minute to gather my thoughts.