04-27-2025, 01:17 AM
Been a while since I set some of my story on the forum. Don't worry, more is coming. Here is a short story I wrote for class fifteen years ago. Short stories are not my forte, so if you find this a little nihilistic... well. Oh yea, adult language warning!
Ixtaqua had returned from the pale men's village and Pixtotle hoped that they understood why the Incsa people would no longer harvest the coca leaves for them. He prayed that the pale men were not angered. In his dreams he still saw their metal beasts plowing through the trees and screaming through the air, the rat-a tat-tat of their thunder sticks harvesting women, children, and warrior alike. Jungle knew the hopes and fears that Pixtotle harbored in his heart and it always took care of the Incsa, but now Jungle had told them to stop bringing the two faced coca spirit to the pale men. Word spread through the village that the shaman Uxuquat would parley with Jungle after Ixtaqua had delivered the pale men's reply.
The news that Ixtaqua brought had the entire village muttering in fear. The pale man called Roberto Redonde said that he would personally drop ten thousand fire eggs on the Incsa unless they brought him the coca. There were no men of Pixtotle's generation that had worn the beaded headdress's or warriors bracelets, the few living men old enough to have had those things had buried them along with their will to fight. Now all the men wore their hair cut square to the shoulders with no facial tattoos and they huddled and wept with the women when the drug lord's threatened war. Suddenly Uxuquat jumped up in the middle of the Heart Lodge and grabbed everyone's attention by stalking around the central fire applying the magic Chobba paste too his face. He spoke to the people while catching their eyes one by one.
“You are afraid of the pale men because of what Jungle has commanded us to do?” He berated, his scarred and tattooed features were very fierce. “Do you not think that Jungle will take care of us. It is aware that the pale ones are greedy and care not for the Incsa, It has felt their metal beasts tearing away at It. Now Jungle is ready to listen to us and work with us!” Pixtotle witnessed the change in the shamans' eyes. He saw how the pupils expanded and contracted to the pulse of the Incsa's heart. Uxuquat's voice also underwent a transformation into a thickening sub-harmonic, as though another voice spoke the same words at the same time. “You must let the pale men find the Pulva!” The voice of the Jungle had just spoken but the news only made the Incsa huddle closer wailing in fear.
Pixtotle saw Ixtaqua'a power as a speaker at Roberto Redonde's villa and knew he was destined to be a great statesman for the Incsa. He witnessed his cousin's power transform the pale man's anger into a look of speculation. He wished he could understand the Portuguese they were speaking to one another.
“You are telling me that this Pulva stone is valuable, why have I not heard of this before, Ixtaqua?” Redonde's cold eyes implying a threat to the South American aborigine.
“Because Jungle had commanded that we hide it from you pale men but now It tells us that you must get to know the Pulva stone.”
“What makes this stone so valuable?” The Peruvian drug lord demanded with his head wreathed in cigar smoke. Ixtaqua shrugged in reply, his native features conveying mild surprise.
“We have seen you fight among yourselves for the yellow and silver metals but Pulva stone has more power than those metals. You find the yellow and silver metals all over the world. Pulva will be valuable because there is only one place that it can be found. Jungle moved all the Pulva into the mountains that swallow the sun before making the animal and human peoples, now It wants you to have it so that you will hurt the Incsa no more.”
“Do you have a sample for me? I cannot agree to anything until I know this stone will be valuable.” In answer, Ixtaqua placed a heavy wax sealed jar on the Peruvians desk.
“Yes. Jungle says that if you take this to the learning place in Santiago you will find out how powerful Pulva is.” After witnessing the arranging of details Pixtotle saw the two men shake hands and he knew then that they would be safe from the pale men for a while. He sat down on the spot and began to sing a mournful sounding song that resounded with loss. His tribesmen gaped at him while the Peruvians stared, bewildered...
“Our stock has dropped a steady five points each quarter for the last three quarters, why the hell should I invest in this pulsa stone shit?” Mike Brandt, the CEO of Nestel Computing challenged, the jowls on his aging face quivering with hostility. Time to let the asshole see your brilliance, Tom Norwell thought to himself smiling brightly at his boss.
“Pulva stone.” He corrected as preamble while absently pushing his trendy new glasses up his long nose. “The Buenos Ares University has been studying this stuff for a few months now. They found out that when you mix it with a magnet it produces a substance with anti-gravity properties-”
“That's great for the Pentagon and Boeing, what the fuck does that mean for us?” Mr. Brandt wasn't normally a man who would interrupt someone before they had made their point, so Tom concluded that the Board was probably on his ass.
“Our R&D boys developed a great big mental hard on when they learned about this stuff, boss. They say that the Pulva's silicate nature makes it viable for integration with our chips, they're predicting that we could boost our processors by one hundred to five hundred percent just using micro-gram amounts. That would put us on the top again and get our computers into every house across the world.”
Mike looked at him blankly for several moments, then with his face breaking into a smile like that of a drowning man seeing salvation arrive he whispered,
“Are you for real?”
“The boys think so and they're usually right about these things.” The two men shared a long smile...
It took researchers eleven months to discover the vector of the new global pandemic. At that point two thirds of the world's population had already contracted the ailment. The CDC had to rename the disease once they determined that it was not caused by a germ but was actually a biological reaction. The Withers became known as “Pulva Sickness”...
Pixtotle led the villagers into the ruins of the now empty pale man village and they all spread out to begin collecting the items the Incsa considered useful. All around he saw signs that Jungle was returning to these lands that the pale men had churned up with their metal beasts. Molds, assortments of fungi, mosses, and weeds were flourishing everywhere. They even startled a band of monkeys who took to the roof tops to hurl leaves and complaints. As had been the new custom since nine macaws had rested on his lodge the children surrounded him and began to ask for stories.
Their demands for stories were very loud and competitive but all the children fell to expectant silence when one little girl quietly asked,
“Uncle Pixtotle, why did you sing a death song for the pale men?” Pixtotle felt humbled by their large eyed scrutiny but he was Incsa so he gave them an Incsa answer.
“When Jungle told us to give the pale men the Pulva stone, I wondered why It had not attacked them earlier with it. Jungle could have done this in our Grandfather's time. I asked myself why but I did not know. When I saw Ixtaqua use his power to persuade Roberto Redonde I suddenly knew that Jungle had waited because It loved them as much as It loves us. Jungle saw the pale men as our brothers so I sang them an Incsa death song to show them honor.”
“How were they our brothers when they look so different from us?” One little boy asked, a sullen look on his face. Uxuquat had joined their little gathering in time to hear most of the conversation, so it was he that answered.
“Just as Jungle is one voice of the earth so too are the pale men but one voice of us humans. They had forgotten how to listen to the earth just as they had forgotten that the earth knows how to fight back.”
Roy L. Simms Jr.
The Pulva Stone
Ixtaqua had returned from the pale men's village and Pixtotle hoped that they understood why the Incsa people would no longer harvest the coca leaves for them. He prayed that the pale men were not angered. In his dreams he still saw their metal beasts plowing through the trees and screaming through the air, the rat-a tat-tat of their thunder sticks harvesting women, children, and warrior alike. Jungle knew the hopes and fears that Pixtotle harbored in his heart and it always took care of the Incsa, but now Jungle had told them to stop bringing the two faced coca spirit to the pale men. Word spread through the village that the shaman Uxuquat would parley with Jungle after Ixtaqua had delivered the pale men's reply.
The news that Ixtaqua brought had the entire village muttering in fear. The pale man called Roberto Redonde said that he would personally drop ten thousand fire eggs on the Incsa unless they brought him the coca. There were no men of Pixtotle's generation that had worn the beaded headdress's or warriors bracelets, the few living men old enough to have had those things had buried them along with their will to fight. Now all the men wore their hair cut square to the shoulders with no facial tattoos and they huddled and wept with the women when the drug lord's threatened war. Suddenly Uxuquat jumped up in the middle of the Heart Lodge and grabbed everyone's attention by stalking around the central fire applying the magic Chobba paste too his face. He spoke to the people while catching their eyes one by one.
“You are afraid of the pale men because of what Jungle has commanded us to do?” He berated, his scarred and tattooed features were very fierce. “Do you not think that Jungle will take care of us. It is aware that the pale ones are greedy and care not for the Incsa, It has felt their metal beasts tearing away at It. Now Jungle is ready to listen to us and work with us!” Pixtotle witnessed the change in the shamans' eyes. He saw how the pupils expanded and contracted to the pulse of the Incsa's heart. Uxuquat's voice also underwent a transformation into a thickening sub-harmonic, as though another voice spoke the same words at the same time. “You must let the pale men find the Pulva!” The voice of the Jungle had just spoken but the news only made the Incsa huddle closer wailing in fear.
* * *
Pixtotle saw Ixtaqua'a power as a speaker at Roberto Redonde's villa and knew he was destined to be a great statesman for the Incsa. He witnessed his cousin's power transform the pale man's anger into a look of speculation. He wished he could understand the Portuguese they were speaking to one another.
“You are telling me that this Pulva stone is valuable, why have I not heard of this before, Ixtaqua?” Redonde's cold eyes implying a threat to the South American aborigine.
“Because Jungle had commanded that we hide it from you pale men but now It tells us that you must get to know the Pulva stone.”
“What makes this stone so valuable?” The Peruvian drug lord demanded with his head wreathed in cigar smoke. Ixtaqua shrugged in reply, his native features conveying mild surprise.
“We have seen you fight among yourselves for the yellow and silver metals but Pulva stone has more power than those metals. You find the yellow and silver metals all over the world. Pulva will be valuable because there is only one place that it can be found. Jungle moved all the Pulva into the mountains that swallow the sun before making the animal and human peoples, now It wants you to have it so that you will hurt the Incsa no more.”
“Do you have a sample for me? I cannot agree to anything until I know this stone will be valuable.” In answer, Ixtaqua placed a heavy wax sealed jar on the Peruvians desk.
“Yes. Jungle says that if you take this to the learning place in Santiago you will find out how powerful Pulva is.” After witnessing the arranging of details Pixtotle saw the two men shake hands and he knew then that they would be safe from the pale men for a while. He sat down on the spot and began to sing a mournful sounding song that resounded with loss. His tribesmen gaped at him while the Peruvians stared, bewildered...
* * *
“Our stock has dropped a steady five points each quarter for the last three quarters, why the hell should I invest in this pulsa stone shit?” Mike Brandt, the CEO of Nestel Computing challenged, the jowls on his aging face quivering with hostility. Time to let the asshole see your brilliance, Tom Norwell thought to himself smiling brightly at his boss.
“Pulva stone.” He corrected as preamble while absently pushing his trendy new glasses up his long nose. “The Buenos Ares University has been studying this stuff for a few months now. They found out that when you mix it with a magnet it produces a substance with anti-gravity properties-”
“That's great for the Pentagon and Boeing, what the fuck does that mean for us?” Mr. Brandt wasn't normally a man who would interrupt someone before they had made their point, so Tom concluded that the Board was probably on his ass.
“Our R&D boys developed a great big mental hard on when they learned about this stuff, boss. They say that the Pulva's silicate nature makes it viable for integration with our chips, they're predicting that we could boost our processors by one hundred to five hundred percent just using micro-gram amounts. That would put us on the top again and get our computers into every house across the world.”
Mike looked at him blankly for several moments, then with his face breaking into a smile like that of a drowning man seeing salvation arrive he whispered,
“Are you for real?”
“The boys think so and they're usually right about these things.” The two men shared a long smile...
* * *
It took researchers eleven months to discover the vector of the new global pandemic. At that point two thirds of the world's population had already contracted the ailment. The CDC had to rename the disease once they determined that it was not caused by a germ but was actually a biological reaction. The Withers became known as “Pulva Sickness”...
* * *
Pixtotle led the villagers into the ruins of the now empty pale man village and they all spread out to begin collecting the items the Incsa considered useful. All around he saw signs that Jungle was returning to these lands that the pale men had churned up with their metal beasts. Molds, assortments of fungi, mosses, and weeds were flourishing everywhere. They even startled a band of monkeys who took to the roof tops to hurl leaves and complaints. As had been the new custom since nine macaws had rested on his lodge the children surrounded him and began to ask for stories.
Their demands for stories were very loud and competitive but all the children fell to expectant silence when one little girl quietly asked,
“Uncle Pixtotle, why did you sing a death song for the pale men?” Pixtotle felt humbled by their large eyed scrutiny but he was Incsa so he gave them an Incsa answer.
“When Jungle told us to give the pale men the Pulva stone, I wondered why It had not attacked them earlier with it. Jungle could have done this in our Grandfather's time. I asked myself why but I did not know. When I saw Ixtaqua use his power to persuade Roberto Redonde I suddenly knew that Jungle had waited because It loved them as much as It loves us. Jungle saw the pale men as our brothers so I sang them an Incsa death song to show them honor.”
“How were they our brothers when they look so different from us?” One little boy asked, a sullen look on his face. Uxuquat had joined their little gathering in time to hear most of the conversation, so it was he that answered.
“Just as Jungle is one voice of the earth so too are the pale men but one voice of us humans. They had forgotten how to listen to the earth just as they had forgotten that the earth knows how to fight back.”