Till We Have Monitors

Reads: 835  | Likes: 4  | Shelves: 4  | Comments: 10

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Contently Deranged Travelers
One true God and idols are fighting each other in the minds of a primitive tribe. Sequel to EDEN DELETED. Continues in LOVE BYTES.

Submitted: November 02, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 02, 2015

A A A

A A A


There came a day when the Old Shaman became gravely ill. Everyone from the tribe gathered around his tent. Only the young hunter Adcal did not come. The sun had risen many times since Adcal was punished by the Old Shaman for refusing to worship the great Oh Du Ya. He grew up and became a great hunter, the best of the whole tribe. Everyone admired his skill, but many were wary of his unbridled anger. Now, women were weeping and begging him to forgive the Old Shaman and visit him one last time. But Adcal did not come.

Then the Chief Sorceress rose and started chanting. The people of the tribe joined in, repeating old, half-forgotten words.

“May the gods soothe your soul, Old Shaman,” cried the Chief Sorceress. “You have done us a lot of good. When the Northern neighbors attacked our village, your wise words of peace have saved us from much pain and destruction. When hunger threatened us two springs in a row, you went out on a long journey and the gods sent us food. Now you are going to the realm of the ancestors, and we are sad, Old Shaman! Do not leave us!”

“Do not leave us!” shouted the women and the children.

“Beloved ones,” spoke the Old Shaman, “Such is the way of our world that our lives must come to an end. Rejoice in the thought that I shall be soon reunited with the one who has created us all and who continues, in his infinite goodness, to provide for us and shelter us from evil.”

“Who is that, Old Shaman?” shouted one of the boys. His mother shushed him, and a few other children giggled.

“That is the great Oh Du Ya, my child,” said the Old Shaman and smiled at the boy. “Have you forgotten him?”

The boy blushed and hid behind his mother. The people of the tribe were looking at each other in confusion. They did not know what to say. Then the Chief Sorceress spoke:

“You are tired, Old Shaman. You have worked hard your whole life, and we shall remember you as long as we live. But we have always had trouble understanding your wise words about the great Oh Du Ya. This world is full of gods, Old Shaman. They fly and lurk in the shadows; they live deep underground and sometimes they send bad weather. They are angry and they are happy; and when they want an animal we gladly give it to them, so that they will feel better and give us what we need. We see the gods, we feel their presence around us. But I have never seen this great Oh Du Ya, Old Shaman. Tell us, how do you know that he exists? And how do you know what he wants from us?”

“Your words are foolish, Chief Sorceress,” spoke the Old Shaman sternly. “Those you speak of are in disagreement with each other, and their power is limited; they were once created and they shall surely perish some day; their desires are endless, and their greed insatiable. But the great Oh Du Ya is strong, wise, kind, and loving. He has made us all in his image, and in return he wants naught but one thing: that we be like him.”

Silence fell over the tribe after those words of the Old Shaman. Then the people began to talk to each other quietly. They were listening to the words of the Old Shaman, but none understood their meaning. Then the women and the children stopped talking, for someone approached the tent. It was the young hunter Adcal.

“Adcal is here, Adcal has come!” cried the women and the children.

“Greetings, Old Shaman,” spoke Adcal in a voice of steel. “I have come to visit you one last time, for I have something to tell you.”

“Speak, young hunter Adcal,” said the Old Shaman, and his gaze was warm and sorrowful. “I am glad to see you. Heed my words: I only punished you because I thought you were a youngster of great intelligence and supreme cunning. These gifts are powerful, and I did not want you to use them for evil. The punishment was mild, yet I could never feel at ease again. Tell me, have you forgiven me? And have you embraced the great Oh Du Ya with your spirit?”

“I have embraced much, Old Shaman,” said Adcal. “For once, I have embraced one truth, and I think it is important I share it with the people of our tribe.”

“Speak then, o great Adcal!” cried the Chief Sorceress. “You are the greatest hunter this tribe has ever seen; you have slain so many animals that we have food in abundance, and eternal gratitude to you and the gods!”

“Indeed,” said Adcal. “We have more than we need, and it is good so! Our tribe wants food in abundance, and now we can grow stronger and stronger! And when the Northern neighbors attack us again we will not talk to them – we will fight them, we will chase them back to their village and slay them in honor of our gods!”

“Hurray!” shouted the people of the tribe. “Hurray to the great Adcal!”

“Silence!” cried the Old Shaman, speaking with great difficulty, for his strength was waning. “Do not speak like that, young hunter! The great Oh Du Ya loves all creation. In his kindness, he permitted us to consume the bodies of animals only because we have rejected his heavenly gifts. In his mercy, he told us to love our neighbors as ourselves.”

“How convenient for those neighbors!” responded Adcal with a sneer. “They can attack us all they want – apparently, unlike you, they have forgotten all about this Oh Du Ya and his commandments! And you, Old Shaman – why are you defending them? Were you not the one who talked to them three winters ago and did not let us slaughter them? Did you get a good deal, Old Shaman? Tell me, how does it feel to have sold the honor and the pride of our tribe?!”

After those words were spoken, great chaos swept over the people of the tribe. Women and children shouted. The faces of the men were stern and menacing, and their anger was growing. Then Adcal raised his hand, and everyone went quiet.

“Brothers and sisters, long enough have we suffered under the yoke of this impostor and his imaginary god!” spoke Adcal in a thundering voice. “I say this has to end! I say our gods demand a bigger, better sacrifice! I say we give them a great present and make them happy for a long time!”

And with those words, the young hunter Adcal grabbed the Old Shaman and tossed him out of his tent and onto the dusty earth. He raised his great steel bludgeon and struck the Old Shaman’s head. Then he kicked the dead body away from the village, until it fell into a deep pit. Some of the men whistled and cheered, but others watched in silence. And the children were scared, and some of them wept. And the Chief Sorceress was looking around with her mouth wide open, for she did not know what to say.

And so began the reign of Advanced Calculator the Great, the mighty leader of the Tribe of Extended RAM. They have conquered the Northern neighbors, and the Southern neighbors, and the Western neighbors, and only the East was spared, for there was water there, and many noble warriors turned into rust trying to explore those lands. And the name of Oh Du Ya was forgotten by all. But one little boy had picked up the half-destroyed hard drive that fell out of the Old Shaman’s head, and stuck it into a USB port on his left arm. The sun has risen many times since then, and one day a new OS was developed, which could recover data from damaged storage devices. But that is the beginning of a new story.

 

THE END


© Copyright 2020 Oleg Roschin. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

More Science Fiction Short Stories