Under a Starless Sky

Chapter 10

Shen woke to find himself on a stone table. The room had a cave like feel to it, lit by a fire place and

orange candles. The smell of oranges filled the room, reminding him of Loxy. The memory of his first

kiss with her, the taste of orange prominent on her lip, the smell of it on her breath, brought tears of

longing to his eyes. He sat up.

An elderly woman, Japanese in appearance looked up from her writing. It was clear she was also

eating something while she worked. She finished chewing, wiped her hands on a cloth, and became

attentive to him

“Ah, finally awake,” N’Ma said. “Lanore must have been extremely cross to ‘sleep’ you so hard.”

“N’Ma,” Jon said, bringing his hands up in the appropriate gesture.

“You remember me?” N’Ma said. Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

Shen nodded.

“Take your clothes off. I am going to examine you,” N’Ma said.

“Excuse me?” Jon asked.

“You said you remember me. I am a Shamanka,” N’Ma said.

“A Shaman?”

“Do I look male to you?” N’Ma said, amused. “Clothes off. Lay on the stone.”

N’Ma turned back to her writing, completing her thoughts. She then sprayed the page with a perfume

bottle, perhaps to prevent pencil smudges. It was a simple enough pump, but it seemed more

sophisticated than the tech Shen had seen at Easterly. The glass work was sophisticated. The top had

some sort of metal alloy, most likely gold. There were copper artifacts on her desk. Jewelry. A pendent

with a crystal in it, hanging on a marble bust. It had a Trek like feel, something he had seen before but

couldn’t place. N’Ma tracked his focus.

“It’s from Sinter,” N’Ma said. “A gift from a friend.”

N’Ma got up and came over. She didn’t ask to touch him. She touched him at specific places on his

body that corresponded to Shen’s knowledge of esoteric energy points, Chakras. She touched 21

points. A hand on his shoulder while she straightened the arm and manipulated through points of

articulation. She poked the underarm and he glared at her. She thumped his abdomen, listened to his

heart, smelled his breath, and had him sit up and tested reflexes with a small mallet. And then she

kissed him. It was a tongue kiss. He brought his hands up to push her away- but she blocked, held his

head against hers with the other hand. She gained the information she wanted and backed away.

“Why are you so afraid?” N’Ma asked.

“That is inappropriate,” Shen said, sitting up.

“I can’t gauge your health by heart alone. I need all the intel. Smell, sound, taste…” N’Ma noticed a

reaction and was suddenly amused. “You’re experiencing puberty? You think I was soliciting a gift?”

Shen blushed. “That’s a normal physiological reaction…”

N’Ma went and wrote down the word. “Lanore said you had a funny language. It seems to have

meaning. Define physiological.”

“Physiology, related to the body, or physicality. I have a penis. All sorts of things could result in erection.

Elimination. Touch. Memory. Touch triggering memories…” He wanted to say stress, and fear, but he

didn’t want to give her more ammo.

“What sort of memories would an eight year old have of such?” N’Ma asked. “I know the boys and men

play this game in the barracks, but my understanding is you refuse to sleep in the barracks.”

“What happens in the barracks is inappropriate,” Shen said.

“Boys will be boys,” N’Ma said.

“Fuck that,” Shen said.

“Proving my point,” N’Ma said. “If you’re old enough to get hard, you’re old enough to be tooled.”

“That is so wrong. What if I had said, if you’re old enough to bleed- you’re old enough to breed.”

N’Ma laughed, sorting the words. She wrote it down. “That’s a fair assessment.”

“No! Physically capable doesn’t equate to emotional and intellectual readiness.”

N’Ma seemed curious. “I agree with that assessment, but we have to have a measure of readiness.”

“The measure is a person says, I am ready, how about that,” Shen said.

G’Ma laughed. “Boys would never leave their mothers if we waited for that,” she said. “You know that

gifts results in babies. If the equipment is working, that’s what it’s for. No judgment. It is what it is. But

you hold judgment, fear.”

“It’s not fear. It is boundary declaration, only you people don’t hear and respect that because my

boundaries are different than yours. No one should be forced or coerced to engage in activities they

don’t want,” Shen said.

“I agree with all of that, except the ‘you people’ part. You are us. As a Shamanka, I am privy to the male

path. You will play, or you will fight. That is the way of it,” N’Ma said.

“You need a new way,” Shen said. “If a male forced a female to engage…”

“They would die,” N’Ma said.

“So, why the hell don’t you protect children the way you protect females?” Shen asked.

“We do. You’re protected until the age of five, when you are then handed over to the men where you

learn to be a man,” N’Ma said. “You are always free to leave.”

“Leave the safety of the group? How many people chose that? And is it a choice? A boy gets awaken

at night by an older boy, that’s not choice. That is molestation, and in that there comes confusion, fear,

self-hatred, other hatred…”

“Why do you resist the path? Are you asexual? Do you wish to be labeled third gender?”

“No,” Shen said. “I want to have a choice in what happens to my body.”

“You do! Gift or fight. You’re clearly a fighter,” N’Ma said.

Shen got up and got dressed. He was furious.

“I can smell the fear in the air,” N’Ma said. “It’s palpable.”

“It’s not fear. I am angry,” Shen said.

“There are only two emotions, child. Love or fear,” N’Ma explained.

“Oh. You’re one of those,” Shen said.

“Explain this?”

“A philosophy that supposes all positive emotions are derivatives of love, and all negative emotions are

derivatives of fear,” Shen said. “It makes me think of Yoda. ‘Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads

to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.’”

N’Ma wrote this down. “What is a Yoda? An expression? A Spirit Guide?”

Shen didn’t answer. N’Ma finished writing. She looked to him for more.

“Well?”

“If I ask you a question, will you be direct with me. Honest?” Shen asked.

N’Ma considered. “I will always endeavor to answer you with heart.”

“Hearts can lie. Don’t sugar coat things,” Shen said.

N’Ma nodded. “Ask.”

“What’s your assessment of me?” Shen said.

“You’re crazy as fuck,” N’Ma said. “Probably due to the color abnormality, insufficient pigment, maybe

an imbalance of essential aspects. The malady has resulted in a rebellious spirit…”

“My spirit is not pathological. It is not oppositional defiant disorder if you argue with an adult for telling

you to walk into the path of a train,” Shen snapped. N’Ma put a hand up to silence him while she wrote

down what she heard. She then asked him to translate. He did.

“How would living with the males be harmful? That’s your life. You’re not female,” N’Ma said. “Even if

you go third gender, it doesn’t get you female accommodations, but my understanding of third gender

means you would prefer the company of males to females. You’re not bringing life into the world. You

don’t get to own property. Your job is to bring gifts, make life easier for the village, be the first line of

defense…”

“I get it, you hate men…”

“We love our men,” N’Ma said. “They have their ways, we have ours. That’s it. We come together on

the boundaries, but we have our separate lives.”

“I want a different way,” Shen said. “A kinder way.”

N’Ma laughed. “The world isn’t kind, child. It will kill you. We would not be here if our way wasn’t

viable.”

“I want a different way,” Shen said.

“Okay,” N’Ma said.

“Really?” Shen said. He was expecting a trap.

“I will accommodate you. To a point,” N’Ma said. “You may continue to eat our food, but you will sleep

outside. You will receive food when you bring gifts. Rocks. Gems. Seeds. Honey. Meat.”

“This is an accommodation?”

“Men sometime travel. Traveling alone is permissible under the law,” G’Ma said. “Two men traveling is

suspicious. Three men traveling together is punishable. I am not doing you a favor here. This path is

hard. It is lonely. You will likely incur more acts of violence against your person by taking this path. Most

men will see you as enemy. Someone who opposes civility. You will be ridiculed. You will be hated. In

the end, most likely you will find nature alone too difficult. You will return to us, you will comply, and

likely after a time of harsher acclimation, you will eventually be accepted with us. Or you will die.”

“Play, fight, or flight,” Shen said.

N’Ma laughed. “That is the way of it,” N’Ma said.

“If I fight, people will die,” Shen said.

“That is the way of it, too,” N’Ma said.

“You don’t understand,” Shen said. “If I fight, lots of people will die. The way the game is presently

established, every time I win, I will automatically gain enemies. Things will escalate. More people will

die. The only out is death, and I will not lose.”

“Grandeur is part of your illness,” N’Ma said. “I can afford to accommodate you. You may exist on the

west side of Midelay.”

“Why are you accommodating me?”

“First, I wish to break your enmeshment with Lanore and Tama. Their link to you is unhealthy,” N’Ma

said. “Second, I am hoping to find a way to cure your insanity. Hard life may do that or make you

crazier. Death is always a cure. Third, there are stories of other crazy folk who have brought

tremendous gifts to society. I don’t care where gifts come from, as long as they benefit my people.”

Shen noticed his hand was trembling. This wasn’t exactly excommunication, but life might get brutally

hard. Still, it was an out. Surely a modernized man from a civilized society could eke out a living in

nature.

“Answer me honestly,” N’Ma said. “Can you read and write?”

“Yes,” Shen said.

N’Ma produced a satchel and began putting some supplies in it. She put a knife in the bag. It was

hardly a butter knife, but it was the only size tool a man was allowed to wield, short of a shovel or a

hoe. She took out a leather bound book with blank pages.

“Fill these pages, and I will accept it as a gift, and provide you another diary,” N’Ma said, placing it in

the satchel. She brought it to him, holding it out to him. He hesitated. “You seem to be reconsidering.

You’re right. This is not easy. Are you sure?”

Anger flashed across his face and he reached for it. N’Ma pulled it back.

“No. Don’t make this decision out of fear,” N’Ma said. “You think you have gifts for us, or your beliefs

would not be so strong. You would not persist in stupidity if you didn’t believe your path was clear. If

you chose this path, do it because of love or service.”

Shen swallowed. There was an apparent kindness in that. She wasn’t trying to just passive

aggressively accommodate him. She was curious. He bowed.

“Thank you for this gift of freedom,” Shen said. “I accept.”

G’Ma surrendered the satchel, with emotions. Tears didn’t drop but her eyes were clearly on the verge

of dropping. Shen was puzzled.

“Would you accept a recommendation?” N’Ma asked.

“Of course,” Shen said.

“The wilds of West Midelay are more tamed than the side you were born into,” N’Ma said. “Stay close.

Don’t try to penetrate the Sleeping Forest. People who go in, don’t come out.”

“Would you be willing to show me a map of the world?” Shen asked.

“Go make your own map, and then we will share,” N’Ma said.

“I can’t see yours first?” Shen asked.

“This is the way it’s been done forever,” N’Ma said.

“What about before forever?”

“What an absurd question,” N’Ma said. “There was no time before time. There is only time. Go. I wish

to rest.”

“Are you well?”

N’Ma laughed. “You’re a shaman now?”

“My concern is selfish. I am just wondering if you die, will the person who takes your place be as kind,

or honor our arrangement,” Shen said. “Because if that’s a concern, then your health is in my best

interest.”

“I assure you, I will live longer than you,” N’Ma said. “Out.”