Excerpt:
It was time. He picked up the little stick he had brought with him, tossed it over his shoulder, and hit a surprised Sylk right in the chest. “Sit with me, and look at the world.” Chagrined, Sylk did as he was bid.
“How did you know?”
“Later. Tell me your discovery.”
Sylk stared at his Master, suddenly more confused than ever. How? How did Moa’qi know he had reached an answer? Not knowing what else to do, he decided to just answer the question.
“Confusion is a form of stress. The best response to stress is to grow. In the case of a stressed muscle, it grows stronger. In the case of a stressed mind, it grows smarter. We can use different words to describe different growths, but in the end, I believe that Growth is the Proper response to Stress.”
“Excellent!” Moa’qi clapped Sylk on the shoulder. Excellent.” He paused an looked mischievously at Sylk. “Why do you suppose we have this confusion? Why don’t we just know everything we need to know?”
This brought Sylk up short. “Well…” he started, then stopped. “Uh, well, the thing about confusion…” he stopped again. “See, I don’t know if confusion is a consequence or a - a - well, a cause. That’s it. It may be a cause or it may be an effect. I don’t know.”
“Very good. Do go on.”
“Well, ummm…” he trailed off again, thinking furiously. “See, if it is an effect, then it is something designed to prod us forward. But, like any tool, if not used properly, it can be dulled. But, I don’t know where I’m going with that. I’m confused.”
Moa’qi laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder again.
“Does this confusion upset you, or enervate you?”
“Huh? Uh, well, actually, since I know that expending effort can probably yield some, er, growth, I guess it kind of is exciting at a certain level. I guess.”
“Why don’t we just know everything we need to know. The Bruta seem to have everything they need.”
“True”, Sylk replied, almost absently. “But, they really don’t grow mentally, do they?”
“Hah! If they do, it certainly doesn’t show!” Moa’qi laughed some, and looked appreciatively at his apprentice. “You are recovering nicely. I will now show to you my secret. But Sylk, if you share this secret with anyone, you will no longer exist to me. There will be finality to our relationship exceeded only be the death of one or the other. Do you understand?”
“No, not really. I guess that is a warning. I give you my word as a Warrior of The Tribe. I know no stronger oath.”
“That will have to do. I only caution one last time. I will not forgive you if you discuss this with anyone. It may be necessary to save your life, and perhaps the village. This is the critically important fact you must absorb.”
With that Moa’qi stood and moved back to their little camping area.
“Sylk, take up your spear, and throw it too me.” Sylk did so. Now, cover your ears, and close your eyes, and do not speak.” Sylk followed the instructions. Moa’qi moved some distance away, and tapped the rock with the end of his spear. Sylk could hear the sound, muffled though it was. He waited. There, the tap again. Farther away and too his – left? He strained to hear. The tapping started up, in a familiar rhythm. It came close, moved away, then was gone. Sylk stood obediently, straining his senses. “Where am I?”
Sylk shouted in surprise, leapt in the air and scampered away. Thoroughly startled, he stared at his Master. Last he thought he had heard, his master was away and too the left. He realized that he was foolishly still holding his hands to his ears, and felt suddenly silly.
later. fb
No comments:
Post a Comment