Sentience, page 16
part #1 of Farm Land Series
Fletcher let out a tsk and Leaf smiled at her.
“But when they came to the largest tree, they did not find Death beneath it, but instead a huge pile of coins, glinting golden and silver in the dying light of the day. They decided to seek Death no more; these coins were enough to ensure all of them could live a dozen lives of idleness.
“As they sat, laughing and holding the coins in their hands, one of the men spoke. ‘My sworn brothers,’ he said. ‘Heed my words for I am wise. We have been granted a fortune and now may live our lives in merriment and ease. But we must be careful. Let us wait until night falls to carry this treasure away, so other men do not steal it from us. Let us send one of our number to the town, to gather food and drink, and bags to carry these coins in, and the other two will guard this hoard. When the one who goes to town returns, we will eat, then divide the treasure between us and carry it away, to be rich men and idle the rest of our lives!’
“The other two agreed, and the youngest set out for the town. As soon as he had gone, one said, ‘This hoard is plenty to divide by three, but what if it was to divide by two? Then, each share would be greater. Let us kill the youngest one upon his return, and then we shall have his share to add to ours.’
“The other man, his tongue dripping with greed, agreed, and they sat down to await the return of their companion, each saying that the youngest man had never been their brother.
“But the youngest man was also thinking. As he bought food and drinks and bags, he was thinking that if the treasure belonged only to one man, how much more idleness those coins could buy! In the town, he found a poison, something he could slip into the drinks of the other two. He poured the poison into two of the three gourds carrying lea and hiked up to the forest. But as he entered the forest, the other two fell upon him like spiders. They beat him to death, and threw his body into the bushes. ‘Now,’ said one man to the other. ‘Let us eat and drink, then we can carry the coins from here with ease.’
“They ate and drank heartily, toasting their success, but each was wondering when the other would turn his back, so they might kill another brother, and take all the treasure for themselves.
“But the poison worked well. As they finished eating, and drank the last of the lea from their gourds, each man fell to the ground, clutching his throat and screaming as he died. Their bodies lay upon the earth, with no man to bury them or say a kind word about them. All around them glittered the coins they had coveted, and killed for.
“As they lay dead upon the ground, Death passed through the grove. He looked on with a smile, and wandered on, to his next task.”
Leaf tossed the coins into the air. One flew into my lap.
“Wonder on the greed of men,” she said, her face unusually serious. “That our people once, and even now, hold these things more important than the lives of others, or bonds of fellowship sworn. Wonder that the greed of man has not gone, but has simply changed its face, and that still there are those who would kill to satisfy their desire for power and wealth.”
She walked to Ash, and lay back in her arms. As Leaf’s head rested on Ash’s breast, the villagers erupted into applause.
I turned the coin over in my hands and marvelled at it. Its pretty sparkle was lovely, but all it was to me was an ornament. I, too, raised my hands, and applauded Leaf.
“Take what wisdom you will from my tale,” she said. “Or leave it all behind and go forth none the wiser. The choice is yours as ever it was, and ever it shall be.”
“As ever it shall be,” we said.
Chapter Twenty-Four
A Place for You and Me
Release yourself, said Bracken. Let yourself flow into her.
My mind, side by side with Bracken’s, unseen as we flowed through the forest, watched the next beast my teacher was keen for me to understand. Skye could read only human minds, but Bracken could enter those of other creatures. Sure I could do the same, we had sought out many in the past few days… butterflies whose minds I had ridden, beating their wings above the forest, through the warm air; flies who hovered, buzzing near the ponds; lizards, their flesh cool and sweet, flickering their tongues in the sultry air. This one, however, was different.
The spider could not see us. She sat squatting, poised, and ready, half way up a tree, not far from the village in the valley of the spiders. Her many legs shifted almost imperceptibly as she scanned the forest floor with glistening eyes. The earthen floor flowed with water and mud. This season of rain had not made it easy for any to eat, even spiders.
My mind shuddered. I do not want to enter a spider.
Why not? asked Bracken. This being has as much right to live as you. She brings as much to the life of the forest as you.
She kills to live, I said. She is a flesh-eater. Like them.
Like them but not like them, said Bracken. They have a choice. Spiders do not know any other way to be. Spiders eat flesh because they must, not because they choose to. Their minds do not allow them to find other means of existence, and their bodies are made to eat flesh. Humans do not have that excuse. We can exist on other foods. The flesh-eaters of our kind eat meat because they want to, because they allow their appetites to dictate their morals, and their stomachs to control their principles. Human flesh-eaters imprison and control their victims. At least with the spider, the other creature has a chance to fight and win its life.
Not much of a chance, I said, gazing at her massive jaws.
Try her, said Bracken. You will be surprised what you learn within her mind.
I looked warily at the jaws and glinting eyes of the pure predator before me. This was not something I would do, given the choice. But I would obey. Bracken would never insist, but I would always follow where she led.
Although my inner mind could not breathe, I felt as though I drew a deep breath as I flowed into the darkness, entering the mind of the spider.
I had expected to hear a similar, fearful voice as I had within the mind of the human I had entered some moons ago; a voice keen with hunger for flesh… the single, thirsting thought of a mind set on the gratification of appetite. And yet, within the spider, I did not hear that fearsome call. I did not find the overwhelming sense of want I had felt within that human mind.
The mind of the spider was still, calm.
There were no thoughts, not as I experienced them. There was feeling. It ran from her every limb and hair, resonating like thousands of voices singing.
Through the hairs on her legs, back and belly, I could feel the tree, surging with life. I could feel the whispering movements of leaves at its canopy, bouncing under the impact of rain and wind. Under her delicate feet, I could feel the tree, the solid feel of the earth about its roots. I felt grounded, in a way I had never experienced, for whilst I was connected to everything, I was also apart; I was free as I was bound, light as I was dark.
Her jaws clicked open and I tasted the air, rich with the scent of every creature within the forest. From the taste, I could tell how close they were to her magnificent jaws. I knew, although I couldn’t see them, that thousands of creatures were hidden nearby. I realized suddenly, and sadly, how poor my human eyes were compared to the perfect senses of the creature I inhabited. And it was not only my eyes that were imperfect. This spider was connected to more than I could imagine.
I felt the entirety of the forest wash over me, felt the awareness of creatures around me, felt greatness. I was lost in a sea of strange pleasures. Never had I experienced anything like this. Within the mind of this fearsome predator, I was linked to the forest, to the world; as much a part of it as the leaves and the soil, bonded to the earth, the sky and the wind.
As I floated within her mind, my own thoughts dissipating under overwhelming sensations, I felt her tense. Through her eyes, I saw a small creature, half-hidden in the undergrowth. It was much smaller than me, with a long tail and an inquisitive, half-cocked head; a lizard. I felt the greenness of its body, the coldness of its blood. And I knew something else. It was not aware of us.
The spider’s awareness did not change, but within her mind there came a silver point of purpose. I felt her ready herself to leap.
Without even considering what I was doing, I pushed her limbs down, and held her from her attack.
As the creature slinked off through the bushes, I felt the spider return to her loose flow amongst the forest. She did not seem to have noticed my interruption of her attack.
Come back now, said Bracken.
As I began to leave the mind of the spider, I felt a sense of loss, and sadness. It did not come from her, but from me. The loss of the fluid sense of oneness I had felt within her was something I could not explain, even to myself.
I followed Bracken’s mind back, back, back, our phantom steps passing villagers as we retreated into the shell of the round house. Distantly, I heard Skye’s voice as my mind passed him. The familiar sound of his quiet tone made me want to smile.
When I opened my eyes, Bracken was studying me, a wary look on her face. “You sought to control her,” she said.
“I did control her,” I said, pride riding my breath. “I stopped her killing.”
Bracken sighed. “Holt,” she said. “You need to start considering not whether you are capable of doing something, but whether you should do it. There is a difference.”
“But I stopped her from killing. Surely, that is a good thing?”
“For the creature you saved, perhaps,” said Bracken. “But what of the spider? If she fails to eat today will she die?”
“But she is a flesh-eater. She should not take life in order to live.”
“Spiders don’t have a choice, Holt, not like those of our kind. Do you see spiders planting beans and grinding grain? No… because they are not made to be farmers.” She took a deep breath. “The world has a pattern… a balance. If there are too many predators, too many other creatures will die, and the forest will have no insects to pollinate plants. If there are too many who consume vegetation, then the forest on which we all depend will perish. It is a fine balance, a circle around which we all revolve. You interfered with that. You may not have meant it that way, but your actions were arrogant.”
“I was seeking to help the other creature… it wasn’t arrogance!”
“Oh yes it was,” she said. “A very special kind of arrogance, the kind we humans seem to have inherent in us; thinking we know best. Sometimes the best thing you can do is to leave something alone if it doesn’t concern you. This situation did not concern you. You should have let nature take its course.”
“So if something is in trouble, I shouldn’t help?”
“It depends on the situation. When we found you, we helped, because you are of our kind, and you needed us. But in this situation, you had no part to play, but you made one for yourself. You interfered.” She sighed. “You need to weigh up what you are doing, what you think of doing, and consider your reasons for interfering. Are you doing something because it is of value, or are you doing it to satisfy something within you? Is what you are doing necessary, or harmful? You saved one creature, but in doing so, what did you do to the chain of life? We all have roles to play, even spiders, and it is not the fault of the spider that she became one who was chosen to manage creatures that eat leaf and grain.”
“And what of human flesh-eaters?” I said. “You could argue their appetite keeps those of us that eat plants and grain under control.”
Bracken shook her head. “They are disordered,” she said. “The few of us that exist here are no threat to the forest, or to other humans. They are the ones out of alignment. Their Factory sucks up precious water and expels foul wastes. They destroy their own kind, bringing our very existence into jeopardy. They do not eat to live, but to satisfy gluttony. Their greed is out of step with the world. It is not the spider that is unnatural here; it is the appetite of human flesh-eaters, blinded by greed.” She paused. “Tell me, for example,” she said. “Did you sense greed in the spider?”
“No,” I said. “There was nothing like that. There was nothing but sense… feeling. I could feel the length and breadth of the forest, the wind in the leaves, and roots stretching like fingers into the deep earth. Even when she was thinking of killing, there was a sense of purpose, but not greed.”
“She knew what she had to do to survive,” said Bracken. “She was not taking pleasure in it, nor was she sad for it. It is simply the way she was made to be.”
“By who?”
“Now there is a question,” said Bracken. “For I could answer there is one sole creator, a god, or that we are designed by the needs of our lives, or we are an accident of chance. Every argument would be as difficult for me to prove as the last. We simply have to decide what answer makes the most sense to us, and live as well as we can with the gifts we have.”
I frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I would be surprised if you did,” said Bracken. Her brow darkened. “Holt,” she said. “I have never had the ability to dominate a mind, as you have. And suddenly I am glad, for I will not be called on to ask the questions you will have to ask.”
“Such as?”
“Such as whether it is right, or could ever be right, to dominate the mind of another,” she said. “You chose to save a life, but you did not consider the life of the creature you inhabited. Will you put your own considerations above those of others? If Leaf or Skye or Ash do something you do not like, will you alter their choices by dominating their minds? If I decide something for the village which you disagree with, will you squash my thoughts with yours?”
“Of course not!” My words came out in a splutter. “I would never do that to you, or to Skye, or any of the others.”
“You say this now, Holt,” said Bracken. “But power of any kind can be a dangerous thing. Sometimes we think we are in control, but it comes to control us. We cannot restrain our powers, but we must know how and when to use them. You have a great gift, greater and more powerful than my own, but with that power must come thought. Please consider, if it happens again, whether it is right to dominate the mind of another, and take their freedom from them.”
“That is not what I did,” I said
Bracken nodded. “Yes, it is,” she said softly. “Had you not stopped her, the spider would have jumped. She may have caught the lizard, she may have failed, but you took choice from her, and made her bend to your will. That is indeed a powerful gift, but it is not one to use lightly. If the circumstances were different, would you want it done to you?”
“I would not,” I said quietly.
“Then consider what you do to others,” Bracken said. “And realize that with the power you have, comes responsibility. Do not unleash it when you are tired or angry. Seek to control it first, and then perhaps you will use it with the care it requires.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
Bracken nodded. “And that is what you must learn to do,” she said. “Think.”
*
Bracken’s words resonated in my head for days. I asked her not to tell the others what I could do, for I wanted to understand the power myself, to think on what Bracken had said, to wonder on what I had done to the spider, and whether I had chosen to do right or wrong.
My thoughts turned themselves over and over.
I had saved the life of one creature, but was it my right to interfere? Was Bracken right? Would I come to dominate the minds of others, my friends, if I didn’t like what they did? Would I become as the flesh-eaters were… sure my way was the only way, and that the wishes, thoughts and needs of others were less important than mine?
And if I didn’t use the powers I had, what use were they?
My mind was a tumbled mess over the next few days. I became quiet and subdued. Skye noted my distraction, but he did not seek to enter it with me. Perhaps I should have minded, but I understood he was leaving me to find my own way, and his stoic presence at my side, warming me as I slept, helping me as I worked, was comforting in my time of turmoil.
It is perhaps not unexpected that, when someone is distracted, they become so much easier to surprise. When Skye took my hand one evening and led me away from the warm glow of the fire, I was so preoccupied that I hardly noticed until we reached the outskirts of the village.
“Where are we going?” I asked, looking around the forest with trepidation. He had taken me along the path that led to the Farmers’ fields. Here, in the darkling forest, I could barely hear stories being told at the fire.
I have something for you, he said, his eyes dancing.
What?
A place to show affection.
A place for just you and me?
Skye nodded, his blond hair falling in his eyes in tendrils as rain raced down his face. I swallowed. My stomach tensed with nerves, just as my heart raced with excitement.
