Chapter Thirty Eight:     Back In Town


Transcribed from dictation, ADAM narrating--
events occuring around the end of December

When dawn arrived the array of tree-sized crystal ceiling rods lit up the big chamber with refracted sunlight. Now we could see the City of Aket from above, always scenic: ancient stone architecture scattered over three shelves or levels, a forest and a lake at the bottom far below us, waterfalls spilling gracefully all the way down. And the few thousand stairs carved into the sheer chamber wall we had yet to descend. So we got going. For Dambaraggan this was the worst part: he's nothing like a gazelle, you know, and is over a hundred years old. Hell, those stairs scare me too.

You start the descent to Aket from what must be about 20 stories up, and the entire stairway is badly worn by so many feet over so many centuries: they're pitched wrong and are too smooth, offering a couple hundred feet of immediate straight down if you slip or stumble. No railings, of course. So they're definitely dangerous and should be repaired. But squatches are simply hopeless about maintenance & repairs. In fact, nothing gets fixed-- ever --because Nokhons don't use tools, one of the things I'm trying to change. Aket is basically an ancient ruin with inhabitants.

It was going to take a while getting Dambaraggan down, so Magga hurried on ahead. Rather than descending all those stairs one step at a time, she took the short cut and dove into the lake from about half way down. Dambaraggan would not do that (afraid the splash it would empty the lake?), nor could I because I had a guitar on my back and that would destroy it. So I helped my fat old friend get all the way down the stairs.

This is my third visit to Aket: first time I'd spent about three months here studying Sha-haka magic; second time for only three-four days before all hell broke loose and we had to escape. It should be more peaceful now, since "our side" had "won" the revolution. Inside Aket anyway. Both Magga and Dambaraggan had spent more time there than me, in official capacities, so we all knew our way around town.

There was actually a welcoming committee waiting for us. Magga had gone ahead and informed our friends that we were slowly coming down the stairs. Good old Da-nama-hat, my "grandfatherly" friend who also happened to be one of Aket’s governing Three Elders, was at the foot of the stairs when we arrived. And Mastinta, who had been promoted to Elder as well, now to be addressed as Ma-stinta-hata. So two of the three highest authorities of Aket were on my side-- better than last time, when I got arrested. Also Dahassat, one of my favorite teachers had shown up. And some folk I didn't know, but who had evidently heard of me, so they welcomed us too.

Food was also welcome after our long walk through the mountain. Nettles and thistles, nummmm. If we'd been among NokhSos it would probably have been served with some ceremony (like in Aberdeen), but since Aket's stairway lands right in the garden grove, we had only to pluck and eat. Then we went up another set of stairs to the level where those big Greek-looking "university buildings" are located.

Da-nama-hat and I arranged to meet in his "office" later that day so we could have a more private conversation. Typical Sha-haka Elder wisdom/magic: I asked Da-nama-hat when I should come to his office, knowing that a gla'absa (appointment) can't be defined by clock-time (not even sundials work in Aket, where sunlight is refracted too much to cast actual shadows). He said, "Next time you have to pee, come to me just after." Then he went off to do some official Elder business and I continued up toward the town center which I'd once known so well.

There were Nokhons moving about in the passages between buildings ("streets" is not the right word, more like "alleys"), but not so many pedestrians as I remembered from earlier, the town's population seemed to have been visibly reduced. Again I wondered how many had been exiled. We came to the Town Square (Ka'aga'ath), the central gathering point in town. At noon the Three Elders of Aket would address the township from atop that big chromed dais in the center of the square, but at that moment it was just people socializing and admiring their reflections in the mirror-effect of that chrome.

To me, coming back to Aket is always mind-boggling: that this city was built inside a hollowed-out mountain so long ago that there should have been no culture or technology capable of it. It's not actually certain who built Aket, although everything fits the Nokhon bigger-than-human size requirements, but it's a marvel of ancient engineering which no squatch today can understand or repair. Some buildings seem to have been carved out of the granite cliffs with lasers, stone walls cut with fantastic precision. The crystal-rod lighting systems, the air circulation and temperature regulation, the garden grove faithfully producing more than enough food for the current population, the water & sewage amenities constantly flowing; all that stuff works perpetually without any input whatsoever from the inhabitants, nor any external power or adjustments required to run the systems forever. All so simple, so effective: easy to design... if you know how.

It was still early in the day; the Three Elders would make their daily announcements at mid-day, so we had time to socialize. Although we had come to Aket to take care of business, you can't really rush squatches into buckling down and being efficient. Besides, it was fun to be back, now that there were no riots going on.

Both Dambaraggan and I were recognized and greeted as we walked around town. Many people asked if we would be doing performances this evening, us both being local media stars-- you know what I mean: these people have no TV or movies. He and I had never exactly performed music together at Aket, but we'd practiced a few routines back at the Forest Hacienda, so we told people, "Hey, maybe, we'll see."

Not all of those conversations were pleasant; a few squatches I'd never met had a problem with my politics, such as those who sympathized with the exiles hovering outside Aket. I was easily identified by the patch of grey hair over my heart (like an emblem)-- that and a guitar on my back were evidence that I couldn't be anyone else than the infamous NokhSo-Nokhon Dadamet, Negotiator & Antichrist. Some asked about the Nokhon Nation Project, either interested in or horrified by the concept of openly visiting NokhSo civilization.

Dambaraggan needed to check out his lecture area; it was expected that he carry on with his lectures while he was back in town. He'd been looking forward to it, preferring to teach talented Orators rather than standard squatches who had no talent for words, as was often the case at the NNP. Although he did enjoy performing the Nokhontli language into a video camera and seeing himself in playback, now a star of stage and screen. But we already had many hours of those lessons now recorded, so he could take a sabbatical. He was planning to return to us after some months in Aket.

I accompanied him over to the same old classroom where I'd been studying oration techniques under him (and hating it, at first). The same old other two oration candidates were also there: young Dajimmieh, who still seemed like a little boy, but less awkward than he had been last I'd seen him; and the older Dagahaggat, who seemed to be just as shy as ever. Of course, being orators, they were bristling with jealousy because I'd been so untraditional as to actually become friends with our Oration guru. Scoring a zillion brownie points to get ahead in the class, they figured. I was going to try being mature and understanding, but those two guys just irritated me-- exactly as a rival orator is supposed to do. I was no more immune to that silly ego syndrome than they were.


Meanwhile, Magga had found two of her best friends, Matillsma and Maminkiwa, with whom she'd been studying women's ways together. Magga had graduated just before them, but the very next day had run off to the USA with me, so they had some catching up to do. Her friends had since also graduated and become accredited Sha-haka-mas, but were still in Aket studying supplementary magics. I ran into them together on the Town Square.

Magga's friends were glad to see her again, but had been slightly scandalized that she had defected to the forbidden world of skesk and tiny NokhSos. They were also unsure of how to relate to me, the notorious half-NokhSo who had caused all the trouble with the authorities at Shamballah. They were not especially fans of the revolution. But at least they were listening to Magga's explanations. And, of course, they were a little bit intrigued about me, since I was so infamous.

Of course they'd heard about my forbidden myøsik, as well as that other-- er --talent that seemingly all squatch females want to check out (hey, I'm definitely not the only guy who can do that, it's just that most males are jaded). Luckily copulation is generally not allowed in Aket, so I didn't need to make excuses. I appeased them with info that The Great Orator Dambaraggan and I might do a little show at Town Square later this evening.

Then I felt a sudden urge to pee and remembered what Da-nama-hat had told me, so I excused myself and went off to find a toilet-hole. Then over to the building where Da-nama-hat had an official chamber.

I had come to Aket specifically for this meeting with Da-nama-hat. We had occasionally made contact upon the telepathic level, but that had been with Dagrolyt's assistance, and he was away in the Himalayas just now. I was not adept enough (at all) to do telepathy unassisted. So we communicated the old-fashioned way: by going to his office and talking in person.

We had already exchanged the social pleasantries earlier, so I started with,"I've noticed there are a lot of exiles wandering around just outside Aket. The Alutna say they're trying to sneak back inside."

"Indeed. Many of those dedicated to the Starda Faction were too radicalized to ignore, so we had to get rid of them. But we wished to be more humane than they had been: simply throwing dissidents into the dark pits indefinitely was their standard way of dealing with us, so we threw them out of town instead. Hoping they'd just go away. But they won't leave, so yes, it has become a problem."

"Could become a serious problem if American spy satellites register unusually large crowds of Nokhons milling around the vicinity of Aket, they would definitely investigate."

"They might already have noticed," the old guru admitted, "if not for the constant generation of cloaking spells that keep them ignorant. But we do not have enough Sha-hakas to perform that kind of magic day and night forever. So we'll have to do something about them soon."

"Just how many exiles are we talking about?" I was asking perhaps the only Nokhon who could answer such a question, since Da-nama-hat actually had a comprehension of numbers.

"Officially, 33 Nokhons. But we can't be sure how many individuals are actually out there," he said, "some ran away from the riots before becoming exiled, others are simply unaccounted for."

"Ra, when we escaped the riots via the underground river one of our company didn't come out the other end with us. I've been thinking about that poor guy ever since."

"Oh, you mean Dashidmet?"

"We never knew his name."

"Well, he's fine-- he came out another exit. He came back to Aket after a few days, finished his studies here and has since then gone back home to his own mlønoli somewhere down South."

"Oh, that's good to hear!"

"But there were at least two deaths in all that chaos: accidental rather than deliberate, but tragic enough nonetheless."

"Ra, I'd heard about them from people showing up at our Nokhon Nation Camp. They weren’t anyone that I knew, but... well, too bad anyway."

"And how is your Nokhon Nation Project going? Do you consider it a success?"

"So far, yeah, it seems to have a future. At least we've got the American government paying attention; the concept of Nokhons having legal rights has been accepted. Their bahkls out in the wilderness now have legal protection from NokhSo industries. Of course, there are also hindrances because of vested interests... do you know what money is?

"Not exactly, but essentially a formalized barter system based upon the principle of ownership. I do know the NokhSos have a value system that determines their behavior. The Trader Dawalasat explained it to me."

"Ra, good old Uncle Wallace. Well, actually money is mainly a reward for..." I always hit a wall when I try to describe "work" to a Nokhon, "...effort, achievement... time spent on an activity. It's complex."

"How many Nokhons are staying at your Camp now?"

"Between ten and sixteen, they come and go. Most of them are still debating whether or not they can accept the NokhSo world at all: reluctance to touch skesk is one problem; comprehending a different moral culture is another. Some find it rather difficult to learn the language, which is necessary to integrate. At least everyone likes the food.

"But some few Nokhons are now becoming quite comfortable among NokhSos, preferring the freedom to live as they choose. For example, Masnia's parents, Dabronat and Malasna, are already well acclimated-- they've both learned to speak usable English, they go into town to shop for other Nokhons who don't dare, they even have NokhSo friends."

"Of course," Da-nama-hat mentioned, "that family has always been somewhat rebellious of the Nokhon Way. The Aluta would have been after them more, had they not been under Dakakht's protection."

"And yet, it is them who have produced Masnia," I reminded him.

Da-nama-hat's old face broke into an uncontainable, rather beautiful smile. "Ah, ra, Masnia. She's the Future for all of us, isn't she?"

"Seems that way," I agreed.

"Referring back to exiles, Ma-ralla has been asking to speak with you, Dadamet."

"Ma-ralla? You mean Bwat Ket Ma-ralla-hata, of the Three Elders?"

"She is no longer one of The Three Elders, thus no longer entitled -hata, but is now an exile."

"Why would she want to speak with me? We were never on friendly terms."

"She says she has something to tell you, for which you will grant her access back into Aket."

"I will? How? Do I even have that kind of authority?"

"You are The Negotiator. So yes, you do."

I told him I'd try to talk to her when I left Aket. If she was somewhere outside the mountain I certainly wasn't about to waste a whole day walking out there and back in again, considering what a pain in the ass she had always been to me.

"Have you heard anything new from our expedition to Shambala?" I had to ask. I'd given Uncle Wallace a cell phone, but warned him not to use it in Shamballah, so that it couldn't be traced.

"I had received telepathic messages from Dagrolyt upon their arrival, but nothing recently. We must make an attempt in a few days."

"Can't you just do that here and now?"

"Messaging-telepathy is a more complex magic than you think. And the distance is a factor, considering that there is an entire planet between us and Shamballah, so we'll need much more transmitting power than I can generate alone. But you will see: I have decided to teach you how it is done."

"How to do telepathy? Well, uh... wow."

"Wow indeed, it is a very elite discipline. Not everyone can use telepathy, but having been bred to become The Negotiator you should have an affinity for it. We'll see."


At noon the Three Elders of Aket were to convene at the Town Square, so I followed Da-nama-hat up to it. We were early, but a crowd was already assembled and waiting. This was the 12:00 news, events would be reported, announcements would be made, and decisions by the local rulers would be passed down. So most of the town's permanent citizens showed up, although not so many students who were just passing through Aket for a few classes.

However, some of my old classmates were in the crowd, even though finished with their studies and already graduated, now accredited Sha-haka sorcerers. Myself being away from Aket, I had more or less continued studying oration with Dambaraggan, but not learning enough of the various disciplines to keep pace with my fellow students. The same could be said for my academic career at the University of Washington, I've just been too spread out. But then again... I'm a politician and a businessman now, right? Oh yeah, and a professional rock star.

Magga showed up with even more girl friends. As usual, a party mood was happening on Town Square, so different than outside in the wilderness, where the everyday Bigfoot Way of Life goes on. Of course, Aket is what amounts to a university town and students are young people, full of energy and horniness, that's the same everywhere.

When it was time for The Three Elders to do their stuff, Da-nama-hat excused himself to go up onto the chromed dais and join Elders Ma-stinta-hata and Da-tabor-hat. As they did so every squatch on the Square sat down facing them, butts firm on the floor (which they otherwise almost never do), as their demonstration of obedience and respect for their leaders.

The Three Elders stood semi back-to-back in a triangular formation, each facing their third of the Square surrounding them. It took a moment of silence for them to become telepathically united as One Entity, then they began to speak in simultaneous chorus.

Not that they had anything important to say or announce; some local news, a judgment on a minor local squabble about allocation of rooms nearby Town Square. Then it was over, a short session compared to those I'd seen before. It felt like Aket had shrunk in importance. I'd noticed that all reference to the world-spanning Nokhon government, specifically The Ultimate Nine of Shamballah and Da-starda-hat Himself, was missing. It was all local stuff, Aket and the mountain forests around us (The Great Pacific Northwest in USA terms).

But after The Three Elders were done, talk on the square became quite political: there was some dissatisfaction about how the current leaders were not obeying dictates from Shamballah, which was ostensibly the official government of all Nokhontli. It was generally agreed that Da-starda-hat was an evil Elder who misused his authority-- his murders of rival Elders had become public knowledge --but the collected psychic persona of the Ultimate Nine Elders had always been considered an Inspired and Flawless Entity anyway, no matter the failings of the individual members. The argument against the Flawless Theory was that Da-starda-hat had over the years perverted the purity of the Ultimate Nine by killing off the old "good" Elders and replacing them with his "wicked" henchmen. The argument for the Flawless Theory was that the corrupted Ultimate Nine would still become enlightened by the convening of the One Mind and could do no wrong.

However, wrong was being done over there in the White Mountains, Da-starda-hat's decrees were unfair and destructive. Some of the demands from Shamballah were so unreasonable that they could hardly be the thinking of an Enlightened Entity-- the question was if The Ultimate Nine were being convened at all, or if Da-starda-hat was simply pretending that they were and saying whatever he wished to say.

Another perception was that wrong was being done over here-- by ME. Most Nokhons believe in the Atli, honor the rules that forbid skesk and demand that squatches live without possessions or physical comforts. They believe in the Bigfoot Way of Life: to be tough enough to survive after the total destruction of the decadent Civilized Man's World. So they consider me a sinner, with my myøsik and my skesk-guitar and my seduction of young Nokhons to join the NNP and the evil USA. I can't blame them, I AM going against all their old ways. Then again, my intentions appealed to many younger Nokhons.

Since I was present I was asked-- in fact, demanded --to speak and justify my politics. Which I did: "Ra, I have been acting to unite the worlds of Nokhon and NokhSo, which many of you consider a violation of Atli. But everyone knows that Atli is open to interpretation, my perception of which has been tempered by the Spirit Visions I have received. Actually, I'm just following instructions."

This lead to a debate about the validity of visions-- which Nokhons tend to respect, rather as do American Indians --but they're also quite aware that those visions are only symbolic representations of one's personal situation, a true understanding of which usually requires the services of an educated Wise Man, a Sha-haka (shaman). It was argued that I had assumed to comprehend my visions without assistance. I tried to explain that I have had an education among the NokhSo academia and that their concepts of symbolism were not so different than what the Sha-hakas were preaching. A few were offended by my saying that, since NokhSo values were considered fundamentally wrong, but others were intrigued.

At this point my wise old buddy Da-nama-hat butted into the debate, saying, "Young Dadamet and I have discussed his Vision and I tend to agree with his implementations." Always nice to have one of the Three Elders of Aket putting in a good word for you. Several of my most negative critics mellowed out a bit.

But while I could hear the audience warming to me, there were still some hecklers, especially one of my old classmates (consider him a Poly Sci Major) named Dachallet, who was always eager to win debates: "We must remember that Dadamet is an Orator and has a way with words, he can sway people to believe in his arguments, either which way. A clever presentation wins the argument, whether right or wrong."

"As you have so cleverly pointed out," old Da-nama-hat said, eliciting some guffaws from those clever enough to follow the debate.

You'd think that while defending the validity of my Spirit Vision I should have mentioned how I'd become a rich and famous media star in the NokhSo world-- definitely due to following certain instructions I'd received in that Vision--but bragging about money and material success in the wicked world of skesk would mean less than nothing to them and probably only have reinforced a negative perception of my activities. I had to refer to proper Nokhon cultural values to sell the idea.

"Look, you all believe in the Atli because you have been so taught throughout your lives, which I have not. I have only been introduced to the concepts of Atli one season-cycle ago, before that I've had absolutely no acquaintance with it.

"And yet I find myself contemplating Atli as a potential Ultimate Truth. Why? In the NokhSo world there are many conflicting belief systems to choose from, but I have never accepted any of them as my religion. Most of them refer to an ancient Savior who has the answer to everyone's problems. But the Atli suggests that it is WE Ourselves who must become the Saviors of our world. That sounds right to me! Perhaps it is instinctual, because I AM a Nokhon, no matter how or where I was raised.

"I sympathize with those who believe that I am leading the Nokhontli astray. But being an Orator, I cannot tell lies, thus can only say words that I myself believe in.

"But hey, I could be crazy, right? Some of you might believe so simply because I have lived among the wicked NokhSo people, so that my perceptions have been perverted by their culture and are therefore wrong. But you could just as easily argue that I am a man of both cultures and must therefore have some kind of unique perspective. I say that we cannot afford to ignore what is happening on this planet."

"We have always known what is coming:" Dachallet once again pointed out, "the evil little NokhSos are overpopulating and consuming everything, as they always do. Until we stop them, as is our duty."

"Yes, the mythology is that we have stopped them by debilitating their skesk. Which destroys their technical infrastructure so that untold millions die a horrible death. Their cities collapse, their flying machines fall from the sky, their emergency procedures no longer work. It would be quite gruesome."

"It's their own fault! Had they refrained from becoming slaves to their skesk..."

"They cannot refrain: they need skesk to survive. They are not as hardy as us, the weather kills them. They are not as strong as us, they need their machines and perform great tasks with them that we can never match. Ra, they can destroy, but they can also create-- which Nokhons do not."

"Because creating is to change nature," Dachallet enthusiastically reminded us all, "which is forbidden!"

"Really? I think it would be a really good thing to repair the stairway into Aket, which becomes more dangerous every day. But we don't do that because we may not use skesk to sculpt stone. Do I need to explain the symbolism of being trapped by our beliefs?"

"We have no choice," Dachallat insisted with the Nokhon version of a shrug of one who is certain that he has just won the argument.

"Actually, we do," I said, which shut him up because he realized that it was true. Me being proof of that.

I saw Dachallat give up and Da-nama-hat give me a nod (bobbing head) and a smile, so I finished up my big speech with some inspiring words that must certainly go down in history somewhere. Or maybe Dambaraggan would put them in one of our comedy routines.

"The thing is, I doubt that any Nokhon here would wantonly KILL some tiny NokhSo that he happens to randomly meet in the forest-- unless you had to protect yourself, of course --Nokhons tend to respect the sanctity of life for all species. And yet some of you seem rather eager to inflict mass murder upon the entire NokhSo population.

"My goal is to find a better way to convince the NokhSos to control their destructive tendencies. And to allow the Nokhontli to expand their own horizons, rather than living lives of isolation and constant deprivation. The best of both worlds is what I want, as so should you all."

As usual with political arguments, nothing was determined or agreed upon. But they had listened and I didn't get lynched, which is always a plus.


Normally I had no specific place to stay in Aket, one just slept on a classroom floor somewhere, there are no dorms or hotels. But this time Magga had assured us the privacy of the Alutna-jii's own chambers, where she had previously been living as Dakhlakht's "special assistant" (concubine). I, as Daklakht's own son, had no special privileges of inheritance, due to the weird squatch custom of ignoring fatherhood, but Magga did and she invited me to stay with her.

Daklakt's rank as Alutna-jii was enough to reserve his chambers indefinitely, since he was often gone off on missions. It made me feel a little exposed that his rooms happened to be right in the middle of the Atlutnat (police station) itself, considering that I'd been under arrest the last time I'd been here, but there seemed to be no problem with the Alutnas on duty. I also got a very friendly greeting from Daset, who'd been made acting Alutna-jii while Daklakht was away.

Daklakht's two room "apartment" was absolutely Spartan, there was no furniture and the only attempt at comfort was some leafy branches as a bed on the floor. But it was private, no one could see inside and there were even "doors" to make it soundproof enough that the Alutna-jii's confidential conversations could not be overheard. Anyway, that's where Magga and I were staying.

So of course we discussed if we could get away with having sex in there. It was generally forbidden everywhere in town except for Alutna agents, as long as they were not studying magic. We weren't exactly Alutna, and we might just be studying soon, so that was a grey zone. Especially since Magga still seemed to have a standing in the cop's ranks that nobody was questioning except me.

It had been my intention to stash the guitar I had brought along with me in Daklakht's chambers, where it should be safe. I've had a professional luthier build some extra copies of my main guitar, that large format extra-wide-necked 12-string hand-made by old Herr Fischer in Bellingham. Just in case anything happened to the original. It had been the only guitar big enough to fit my hands, so I needed some backups. I'd taken one of those extra guitars to Aket, planning to leave it there for whenever I came to town. Yes, it was forbidden skesk, but I'd established a legal loophole in the Atli to justify it as a hand-crafted magical icon, so I wanted to maintain precedence with a physical presence.

I also wanted to play it. I had not done so on our trip so far, preferring the sound of the forest's own music for a while, but now here in Aket I was ready to make an appearance at the Town Square. Several people, like Magga's friends, had asked if I would do so. I actually had a fan base here!


Evening at Town Square. I've described it before, the place where everyone in Aket gathers to experience what passes for entertainment in the Nokhon culture: Sha-hakas doing magic tricks, people telling stories (usually more or less true, with some ego thrown in), wrestling matches, Atli being preached. And sometimes-- ever since I entered their culture --a traveling troubadour comes singing songs. Sometimes even defying the law and playing myøsik on a skesk-guitar, if I could get away with it.

There was a dense crowd on Town Square. Folk had heard that the oh-so-famous Great Orator Dambaraggan was back in town and would be performing, which was considered an important cultural event to people who had no media. We had arranged to meet here and perform together.

Magga and I arrived as the sunlight dwindled away, transforming the Great Chamber around us into a night sky without stars, no lights in the windows around us, only dim blurs of blue glow phosphorescence to show where doorways were. But the Town Square was alight with fire and flame: this was definitely where it was all happening. Be there or be... well, you know, just be there. The square was filled to capacity; it seemed every Nokhon in Aket was here. It was still nice and quiet-- squatches don't make a lot of noise --except for a story being narrated by The Great Orator Dambaraggan Himself.

His story was an incredibly dramatic version of how he and Masnia and I had released the enslaved Aluta-jii Daklakht from psychic domination by the evil Da-starda-hata. Based on a true story, folks, happened right here in this very town. He had that audience hypnotized with his voice, most of them listening with their mouths open.

Once finished, Dambaraggan got an enthusiastic response for his narration. Squatches don't do loud clapping and cheering, instead they softly hum a deep tone in a group as a form of applause. It's a nice sound, a bit like chanting "Aum". Means "appreciation". But even before the crowd was finished humming I butted in and began insulting him. Part of our act, me being the crass punk kid. At first the audience was shocked at my uncool disrespect, but I was quickly recognized, so everybody knew not to be offended by my insults, but instead be entertained.

(punk) "Hey, o most corpulent old guy, why DO you always have to tell that stupid old story as if YOU were the HERO? Really, such vanity!"

(stodge) "Vanity? Nay, 'tis history immortalized, o ignorant buffoon. Or do you suggest that it should be YOU who be the hero?"

(punk) "T'was thus it happened. As I saw it all transpire with mine own eyes, all the while yours were closed-- methinks you were asleep whilst the actual heroics did take place."

(stodge) "I, asleep? And yet it is I who tell the tale from my prodigious memories..."

(punk) "I could just so well tell the story... and far better than you, old fool!"

(stodge) "Only as you would copy it from me! T'is not your story to tell, nor do you have a proper understanding of inspired narration, as do I. You would only confuse the order of actions and befuddle the drama with your dunderhead misinterpretations."

(punk) "Oh yeah?" etc...

Okay, it's funny in Nokhontli. We got lots of laughs anyway. Then, since we had the audience, we did a song together. One of my own, Wild & Wooly Sasquatch, but rewritten into Nokhontli by Masnia. Actually, the squatch version is the better song: the English version was just personal, my own I-Voice; the new song is the more powerful We-Voice, almost a national anthem for the Nokhon Nation. Almost propaganda-- but fun to play.

    We're so lucky to be born Nokhontli
   And not some tiny hairless NokhSo twerps.
   They're scared of us, you know, even though we don't really wish them harm
   Because we are bigger, hairier, stronger, wiser, purer than them
       But the truth is that we have feared them too
       We feared their skesk and greed and ever-growing numbers
       But now we'll let them know who we are and what we want
       So that we can come to share this world.

I played guitar, Magga did blues-girl backup and Dambaraggan was Pavarotti. He has an amazing voice. It took some practice for him to get the trick of singing words, having never used his voice that way. But then one day it clicked for him and now he's a fan-- of himself, of course. He's such a ham.

At first, Dambaraggan had been vociferously against my singing myøsik, deeming it "a perversion of Oration". Until I convinced him that it's actually a form of magic. Since then we've learned how profoundly Nokhons react to songs in their own language-- which they'd never heard before-- especially if you structure the words into rhyme with a good solid beat, dramatic phrasing and pauses, then hit them with a classic "hook" that is repeated enough that they can learn it. Then they can sing along, which is a paradigm shift for squatch culture.

We did a little concert of two songs and a short guitar instrumental by Mozart, being careful not to present them with too much at once. Nokhons aren't used to voices being raised and ours were echoing through the Great Chamber, my 12-string jingling and jangling. We sounded good, but it was best to stop and leave them wondering what just happened...and wanting more. Which they did, so it was a success. Besides, there were other performers awaiting their turn to do their stuff (nothing musical). The scene went on into the night.


It was dark but hardly late when Magga and I went home to lay us down to sleep, side by side on a bed of leafy branches.

"Too bad we can't yøramma here in Aket." I say wistfully.

"Whaddya mean?" Magga argues "We're in the Alutna-jii's rooms, yøramma-ing happens a lot in here. Really a lot."

"You should know," I kid her, referring to her special duties to the Alutna-jii in this very room, but it's pointless to tease a squatch chick about sex.

"Ra, of course I know, Daklakht was just as eager as you. Several times a day-- and night. Like father like son, I suppose. So we MAY yøramma now-- in fact, I insist."

And she climbs on top of me, to where an erect dakh was conveniently awaiting her: just in case she could use one. Which she certainly did. I confess to feeling a little bit guilty for violating Aket's rules, but not guilty enough to stop enjoying her until we were both satisfied a few times.

I figured: who would ever know?





Chapter 39

Adam Into Babylon