They called me that sometimes because I was The One Who’s Usually On The Way, and generally they had to wait a little before I came bounding in … but it didn’t bother them, I was working for the common cause.
I think it’s time, said Bohler, beginning to unravel the silver from his hair. Guess we’d better go to the forge, huh?
Guess so, said Micka. On the table lay a pair of scissors and a razor.
No, said Shark Stein. I had a dream.
We all froze. Night had finally come at the end of a long day. We hadn’t expected this.
What’s the use of self-criticism? said Micka. The tribe’s dissolved.
I don’t want self-criticism, said Sharky. I had a dream.
We took our seats. For the time being we left our silver alone. And our hair. We just let it hang down.
You know, O skippers and brothers, that I’m merely the bearer of the dream an I don’t mean to insult the community with some kina worthless opinion. But it was a very long, hard dream, an I’m not sure I understand it, but I think it wasn’t meant just for me, I got it so I could share it. It picks up where Number Five’s dream left off, an now I know why in his dream I was flyin in front of him. In my dream, O brothers and bluebloods, there are many snares an puzzles, an it’s not for everyone. It’s a dream about dreams an charged objects, the tribe, the end of tribes, the individual, an Possibility. In case you’ve got questions, here’s my answer: I had the dream today, when I couldn’t get outta the box, while you guys were fightin the stalingos.
As I sensed the voice enter Shark Stein, I took a look around at my neighbors. Cassock had his eyes shut, Helmsman sat resigned, knowin the next thing to come wasn’t a byznys day but the exorcism of the Zone. David just lay on the table, an there was anguish for him in our hearts. Sharky spoke:
My dream’s also about what the earth is. An you have to hold out till the end, O fibbers and squealers, because then I’m going to give you a Possibility.
Go for it, cruel Sharky! Bring it on! We’re ready! we cheered on the Scheherazade, settling in more comfortably.
My dream starts where Potok’s left off. We were flyin over the field of bones an then we came to the Face, an it was kind an glowing, an the same thing happened to me as to Potok: I was flyin in the lead, you know that, O pimps and shoplifters, but all at once the Face turned hard an rough … evil … an all the kindness drained from my arteries an veins, an they grew heavy with blood, an I was scared, a great fear came, you murderers and marauders, an as the dread circled inside my skull my vision dimmed … an the Face constricted into the grimace of the Evil One, a hardwood mask. An then suddenly, you perjurers and falsifiers, I was lyin in the grass an I saw you, highwaymen and brigands, in the grass beside me. We must accept these lives too, I thought, and when I looked again I saw you, Micka, as Brawler, in a tattered fur with blood dripping from a gash in your hand, you, Bohler, as Sad Man, sword in one hand, hammer in the other, and you, Potok, as The One Who Leaps, leaning on your spear, and you, Kral, you were unarmed. And I was The One Who Is In Many Places, and I had a bow and quiver but few arrows. And our eyes, dear conquistadors and infant slayers, were all turned in the same direction, toward the wooden idol of our god, the one farther back in time’s memory than even the city’s Starry Bog. We were gazing into the face of Svantovít, lord of lightning, supreme god of the Elbe dwellers, The One Who Drinks Blood From The Heart Of Darkness And Renders His Children’s Enemies Lame And Fearful, and despite our wounds and hunger and fear of our pursuers, we were happy.
We were the people of a tribe that had gotten under the wheel, or into the scissors, as I believe, dear huntresses and she-judges, is the term in fashion round the Pentagon these days. But in our tongue of the time we said: under the hammer. And this Svantovít … he was no lightweight flower-and-sheep lover, as our revolting Marxist teachers claimed … he was an idol of rage for the old people of Bohemia, which of course in those days was called something different … the wood of this statue had been drenched countless times in the blood of sacrifice. The more sacrifices there were, the stronger our idol and the more strength it gave us to hunt fresh victims. It’s only logical. But our teachers didn’t tell us that, it was forbidden. They had to say the new, modern-day man was different, more amazing, better. Extremely gifted, they told us, you recall, you psychopaths and paranoiacs. They didn’t tell us anything. So we had to find out for ourselves. We served Svantovít and he protected us. Only … we were a small tribe, and even though we had many young warriors … one by one they fell in battle … and as a result there were more women and girls in the tribe than men … priestesses, sisters, girlfriends, and brides, very many indeed … we couldn’t keep them satisified … we were too worn out from brawling … so they decided we had to move on, butcher a nearby village or two and bag them some guys and boofalos … why should I be givin birth all the time, said one, it’s a pain, let’s just steal someone else’s kids, what’s the diff … so we obeyed the mighty Eva, O my brothers, you idol worshipers and fanatics, and sallied forth … leaving the statue of Svantovít behind … we were proud and thought we had strength enough … we wiped out a few settlements of soft people and bagged some guys for the women so they could find satisfaction in the arms of slaves … so they’d shut their mouths and stop complaining … we preferred hunting and hacking … only then we got under the hammer.
We had the Pšovans pressing us from the north, the Axe People closing in from the south, the Zličans’ sturdy stockades before us, and suddenly the Curly Heads charged from the rear. A classic hammer and pincers. At first we fought back … but they kept pressing and pressing us … we fell into booby traps … the women started grumbling again … we even considered a truce … temporarily … that’s how much of a mess we were … dunces, Eva scolded us, why’d you leave Svantovít there? Fools, see if I sleep with you again … but she was the one who’d decided not to drag it along! It was unjust! As things got worse and worse, our only strength was fear … it was kill or be killed … no more killing out of exuberance and joie de vivre … now the tables were turned and we were the hounded ones … we had to leave our old people behind in the woods, there was no one to carry our charges … we’d already lost all we owned anyway … fleeing. And then we came to the deep forest, the hunting ground of the Lemuz tribe, an especially hateful and brutal horde of subhumans who’d formed an alliance with their age-old enemies the Doudlebs in order to crush us. After we managed to fend off their attack, our female comrades put all the little children to death … we knew what awaited them otherwise … surrounded on all sides by inconceivably loathsome tribes … we began to resign ourselves to the thought that the human race would soon be extinct … the women also took up arms … in battle they were even more savage than us … it was out of the question that they would end up with some other inconceivably loathsome guys that didn’t know how to do things right … they knew we wouldn’t be bringing them any more slave boys to put through the paces … like us, the only thing they could do was appeal to Morana, goddess of death and winter … they touched our ribs and led us into battle … all we had to eat was roots … and apples.
We got pulverized in that last awful battle, only thirty of us turned up at the agreed spot afterwards, the tribe was devastated. There were just three women left … where’s Eva? we wondered, she was powerful, gave us strength … she was wounded … and one of us had to kill her and bring the rest her hair, so it wouldn’t fall into enemy hands, we divided it up … we have to get back to Svantovít, we’ve got no choice … but the prospects were poor … of us making it all the way through those savage inhuman tribes … we were ambushed by runts in the swamps, we’d never seen such inhumans. They carried wicker shields with a turtle painted on them and their bodies were coated in mud. They attacked screaming Ninja! Ninja! and killed two of our comrades. Then we encountered the Croots, with whom we had once maintained a shaky alliance, since they were as pitiless as us, it made sense to join forces and hunt down those who were weaker … but the Croots turned us over to the Chebeks, whom we’d tyrannized since time out of mind, in return for boofalo and slaves … only a few of us escaped … the women had all fallen, and without their presence, their other fragrance and other agile moves, we were done for … we needed to steal some women … but out of eight men to start with, just five were left, and one of them was Kral … who didn’t even carry a weapon, the nut, he’d only survived by a miracle … for days on end he’d just doodle in the sand … whatcha doin there, Kral … we teased him … hey doodler, come have a dance an jump somebody … the only reason he’d lasted in the tribe was his powerful sister Eva, she protected him … leave him alone … he makes letterz, we’re gonna need them so we don’t forget anything, so we can be with our fallen ones … c’mon, Eva, we remember every bone, every bit of flesh, we’ve got every slain tribesman in our hearts … you do, yeah, but not your children … oh yeah, right, we scratched our greasy manes, and whenever we didn’t happen to be out murdering and ambushing, or being murdered and ambushed, which tended to merge, we pestered Eva and Kral, whadda you wanna remember all that nonsense for anyway … none a your business, said Eva, go hunt me up a couple slaves, I’m gettin kina restless … finally the five of us, Brawler, Sad Man, The One Who Is In Many Places, and The One Who Leaps … and Kral, made it to the statue of Svantovít. And the four of us, you bandits and cattle rustlers, just you recall, the four of us stood there and pleaded with him, and Kral, the poor wretch, broke off a twig and scribbled in the sand while the four of us waited, and Svantovít spoke … remember, you defilers of virgins and slayers of children, you know what he told us … and we went and stood around Kral, remember, you scalpers and censors, we stood around him on all four sides and Brawler struck first and Sad Man tore off his fur and The One Who Is In Many Places spat in Kral’s face and The One Who Leaps speared him … and then we beat him to death.