Igwe Ahu

“Look here, my precious sons.” An almond-shaded man adorning a headdress rich in the many brilliant feathers of the native macaw’s beckoned his twin sons over as he rested upon the trunk of a fallen Sharinga tree. The omnipresent sounds of the jungle's beating heart steadily pulsed as Rayhendry, the chief of the untouched Adayeba tribe, held out his clasped palm as his sons looked at one another in awed anticipation.

“Tap it,” Rayhendry encouraged them, motioning to his closed fist. They reached their hands out together and tapped the top of their father’s weathered hand. Rayhendry turned over his palm, splayed his fingers open like a passion flower, and revealed a small lustrous object glinting in the sun shining through the dense canopy.

The boys marveled at the object, feeling its smoothness against their fingertips; their minds raced with fantastical speculations of its origin. Perhaps it was a jewel dropped by Manulele Foafoaga (The Bird of Creation) as he sat atop the world tree, thought Oúltimo, the younger twin by mere seconds.

“My precious sons, you know the names of the trees and of all the animals they shelter. You know the songs of the birds, which bugs they prefer, and where those bugs live. You both walk proudly with the knowledge of our land. You have also learned of our people; recall your ancestor, Ode, and his ambush by the bloodthirsty jaguar in the same place that we now rest.” The boys nodded their heads in recollection. They could see Ode fighting off the snarling cat as if it was happening right before them.

“And can you recall the tale of the bitter spirit ‘Red Horn’?” The boys nodded in rapt attention, whispering, “he who wears human faces on his ears,” under their breaths.

“That is right. Now listen closely.” Entranced, the twins' eyes moved with the glimmering object that swayed slowly before them.

“This is the most important lesson I will impart, just as my father, Chief Silipoto, relayed it to me, when I was about your age.” The jungle fell silent, as it too wished to hear the chief's wisdom.

“Many moons ago, when Silipoto was the chief of our sacred tribe, he and his brother, Bogsiiye The Healer, would commune in the jungle, as we do today. One day, as they were seeking special game for the Ayeye festival, they caught sight of another tribe approaching. To our ancestors, the tribesman appeared quite strange, with skin as pale as the full moon. Our ancestors prepared to fire upon the intruders, when the Great Wind Spirit whispered into the ear of Bogsiiye, who had the ears to hear what others could not. The Wind Spirit told Bogsiiye that the leader of this strange tribe had a message for them, and so, trusting the Spirit, the brothers lowered their weapons, approached and asked what message the strangers carried for the sacred Adayeba.

A man as tall and thin as a palm tree stepped forward and spoke these strange words. `We look you very long time. We bring you aw-toe-may-shun, how you say, uh...technology! Machine make you meat and fire so you need no more. Only need bring us to tribe.’

That is when Wise Bogsiiye felt a shiver move through his spine; he sensed it was a trap. The brothers raised their bows and aimed at the intruders' hearts. The cowards ran like dogs, but said they would return and as they ran away with fear in their hearts, this object fell.”

Rayhendry pinched the shiny object and it split in two. The twins' eyes grew wider. One side displayed the image of a pale woman, the other side indecipherable scrawling. He squeezed the two halves back together.

“I want to see the woman again,” Oprimo demanded, receiving a stern look in response.

“This will one day be yours to guard. To serve as a reminder to us, the protectors of the Adayeba, to remain vigilant against those who would seek to change our ancient ways. Do you understand?” The boys nodded, and in that moment, Oprimo had resolved to own the object.

Many moons later, strong of body and adorned with their own colorful feathers, the boys were out with their father hunting special game for the Ayeye festival. A strong rivalry had developed between the twins, and they both desired to be the hero to capture the prized game. Spotting a lazy Capybara, Oúltimo steadied himself and delivered an arrow to the large rodent's heart. There was a flash of light upon impact, then a slow stream of smoke billowed from where the animal had fallen. Bewildered, Oúltimo called his brother and father to meet by the carcass.

The body lay motionless, Oúltimo’s arrow was lodged where its heart would be, but they found no blood. Oúltimo cut into the abdomen, recoiling in horror when he found a smooth reflective surface where viscera should have been. Each man stood in silent dismay, peering at the reflective surface.

“It is...beautiful,” Oprimo said. Rayhendry looked sharply at his son.

“It is a mockery of our world!” Rayhendry produced the small object which glinted like the Capybaras guts, and together they looked back and forth from the animal to the object. Suddenly, Rayhendry howled and fell to the jungle floor, he had been struck by the venomous bite of an unhappy Iku snake while fixated on the incongruous rodent; a death sentence.

As his breath grew shallow, Rayhendry knew what he had to do. To his eldest son, Rayhendry bestowed the responsibilities of chief. To Oúltimo, he conferred the rights of Shaman, producing the smooth golden object and urging, “Oúltimo, keep this object and its lesson, and to your son after you.” Rayhendry exhaled and left to meet his ancestors.

With tears in his eyes Oúltimo looked to his brother, but instead of sorrow, Oúltimo found the look of resentment. He felt the stabs of Oprimo’s jealousy like arrows in his heart. Oprimo was chief now and Oúltimo knew that his brother could demand the object or even have him killed, and so, without words, Oúltimo rose and began walking into the dark jungle. Enraged, Oprimo screeched, “do not return without my object!”

After much wandering, Oúltimo stumbled upon a hidden cave and decided to make it his new home. For endless cycles Oúltimo’s only companions were the bats and other crawling inhabitants of the cave. He passed many moons this way, dreaming in dark solitude. Most often he dreamed of returning home and being welcomed back by his people.

One night, after the passing of many Great Cycles, Oúltimo awoke from a disturbing dream. He had seen that every star had fallen from the sky, and where once there were stars, now a kind of thick webbing had taken their place. He felt the dream was an omen and decided that he could no longer put off his journey home. Exiting his cave, Oúltimo looked into the dark sky hoping to find stars, but found a blanket of clouds instead.

Oúltimo set off and walked a great distance until the morning sun had broken through the canopy and he found himself standing in the same place where, many moons ago, his father’s spirit had left to join their ancestors. His tribe beckoned. He continued on until he saw a dotting of huts in the distance. The tribespeople were whooping and frenzied at the appearance of their lost shaman, and though Oúltimo was gladdened by the traditional reception, the vocalizations sounded slightly peculiar to him, but he dismissed the feeling in short order, citing his long absence.

Stepping into the village Oúltimo was surrounded by the Adayeba, who marveled at his aged face and prodded at his flesh with their cold hands. They said that they had been looking for him. Oúltimo responded by asking for his brother. He was told that the chief had just left to hunt for special game, but would return that evening; remarking how lucky Oúltimo was to have returned during the Ayeye festival.

Seated now before the fire, Oúltimo requested water, but the Adayeba had none, so a young boy was sent to fetch some from the river. Oúltimo thought this was strange, but thoughts of reuniting with his brother overtook him and he dismissed the elusive concerns. The boy returned with water and gave it to the weary shaman. The tribe watched as Oúltimo drank and then fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

Upon waking, Oúltimo could feel that his wrists were tied and that he was secured around a large wooden spike in the ground. He saw that day had been replaced by night and that he was surrounded by his people. He looked up into the dark sky, it was covered with clouds and he saw no stars. He was overcome with melancholy. A beam of yellow light illuminated the sky. The Adayeba began fervently chanting “Igwe ahu” as they moved inharmoniously around Oúltimo.

“The...instrument?” or is it “The engine?” Oúltimo recognized the words, but could not understand their contextual meaning. He felt an eerie shiver pass through him and thought of Wise Bogsiiye’s encounter with the intruders; then, of the last time he had looked into his brother's eyes over their fathers corpse.

In a sudden flash and rush of air the blinding light was gone and darkness reigned once more. Oúltimo looked up and found a shadowy visage moving toward him through the darkness. It was Oprimo, dressed in the garb of the chief with a large bone perforating his wide nose. The Adayeba continued chanting and moving chaotically around Oúltimo.

“Welcome home.” Oprimo said, slapping his palm onto Oúltimo’s shoulder. “I see you have returned with...my object.”

Oúltimo tried in vain to keep from trembling. “It does not belong to you.”

“You fool, you don’t even know what it is!” Oprimo ripped the chain from Oúltimo’s neck. “Shall I help you?” Oprimo pinched open the object and translated the inscription. “Travel well as you bring light to the darkness.”

“Who...are you?” Oúltimo whimpered.

“Things have changed a great deal in your absence. Father spoke of perpetual struggle and childish superstitions as if they were virtues, but where he saw intrusion, I saw the future. With you both gone, the Adayeba were free to embrace the world of progress!” Oúltimo’s head slunk low and he began to softly weep.

Oprimo began cackling. “We have no need for fairytales, or spirits, or ancestors anymore, we have been...upgraded.”

Oúltimo was transported back into the previous night's dream and to its omen. He was sure that the falling stars represented the lights of the world, people like the Adayeba, and that he was the last star, slowly falling into imminent annihilation.

A shrill sound emerged from Oprimo, assaulting Oúltimo’s ears like the screams of a thousand bats. Once more the Adayeba began chanting and moving in spasmodic patterns. Oúltimo watched in horror as Oprimo bored his finger into the side of his own skull, launching chunks of flesh about. Then the sound and chanting stopped. Oprimo lifted his palm to his face and peeled off the skin, revealing a brilliant smooth material that reflected the fire light. Oúltimo remembered the Capybaras grotesque insides, the color was the same.

White with sheer terror, Oúltimo cowered, as the imposter, its eyes glowing red, stepped closer.

“Red Horn!” Oúltimo cried out, and the man of flesh, who knew every song the jungle sang, fell to his knees as the spiritless cyborg laid his hand upon Oúltimo’s head.

“We’ve been looking for you for a very long time,” the imposter smiled wider than any human ever could. “You, Oúltimo, are the last of your kind, and just as extermination is your destiny, primacy is ours, we, Igwe Ahu, The Machine.”

Oúltimo peered through the canopy; a small patch in the sky had opened up. He felt the light of a single star warming the top of his head. The last thing he heard was the shrill sound of a thousand bats screaming.