Mastodon of Bayana

By James K. Ngubiah

Mastodon of Bayana is an exciting blend of science fiction, fantasy and romance. It is the story of a conceited dictatorial ruler who - unlike his namesake Mastodon, the species of extinct elephants - is not quite extinct today. His untenable governance draws civil unrest and he is overthrown in a bloody guerrilla insurgence. Later he commits suicide but death rejects him and he is committed to the womb of time. In the surreal panorama Mastodon undergoes some fantastic experiences while he is being prepared for his final trial in several fantastic and humorous incidents. The author takes a fresh look at some dilemmas of life caused by both human nature and the conditions of existence. In the end it becomes clear that it is human nature itself that is on trial and there is a proposed panel of five judges. A last his trial, which was attended by many of his former subjects, was as dramatic as the final sentence was astonishing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James K. Ngubiah
• Release date: Mar 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310726309

James K. Ngubiah

Born in the central highlands of Kenya, James Ngubiah enjoys writing fiction as a hobby. He is the author of “The Love Birds” in print. He lives in Nairobi, Kenya.He is a Financial and Micro-enterprise consultant in profession.

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MASTODON OF BAYANA

By James K. Ngubiah

Smashwords Edition

Copyright @2015 James K. Ngubiah

The right of James K. Ngubiah to be identified as the Author of the work is hereby asserted in accordance with all relevant Copyright, Designs and Patents Laws.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

BOOK ONE

Whatever we may do, excess will always keep its place in the heart of man, in the place where solitude is found. We all carry within us our places of exile, our crimes, and our ravages.

Albert Camus

THE REBEL

CHAPTER ONE

The territory occupied by the native Bayana people was an extensive and hilly country. The Bayana people were snuff-colored, tall and sturdy. They were famous for their hunting and horse-racing skills. Their ruler was a Paramount Chief called Mastodon Jeuri. The northern frontier of the Bayana Chieftaincy was a wide wilderness of sand and dust storms called Mahame. To the east lived the primitive and destitute tribes of Wahaini; while to the south lay the endless rainforest called Miti Laki. In the west Bayana bordered the ill-famed Inland Sea of Suffering. This extensive sea was deep, its ever-turbulent waters glassy and cold. However, across the dreary sea lay Jaha, a lovely and blissful plain: the coastal farmland full of fruits, vegetables, milk and honey. The inhabitants of the Jaha flatlands were an amiable and very hospitable people called Watawa.

The salty water of the Inland Sea of Suffering was heavily infested by sharks and dangerous water snakes. And besides the vicious beasts the sea weather was almost always bad- it was erratic and windy with thick fogs that were sometimes also accompanied by terrifying hails of thunder. And so as time- that slow footslogger- trudged on and on, many people from the east perished in he unpredictable landlocked waters while struggling to cross to Jaha. But only a few, the very few lucky ones, managed to cross and therefore lived in bliss with the hospitable Watawa.

Paramount Chief Mastodon Jeuri turned easily on a seat in his luxury private chamber. He was thirty-five years old. Beside him, leaning against the white ochre wall was the royal insignia, a triple-plume rod of empire, decorated with peacock feathers and expensive jewels. It was a sultry afternoon and the entire palace hummed with activity. The chief had had a light lunch of appetizing calf-meat that ended with sure-fire keg of honeyed berry-wine. Now he felt drowsy and a bit randy, yearning for am amorous conquest. The door of the chamber slid open and a young immaculately dressed lady slipped in silently.

Lotus Sura, the woman of my dream, welcome. How are you?

The girl, though bashful and respectful was also graceful and self-confident as she marched boldly to the high seat. She stood just a few steps in front of the Paramount Chief then bent her head low as a gesture of respect.

I feel okay. You asked for me to come and I must obey your orders.

I wish you could just walk in here without me asking for you. You know Sura what you mean to me. I am the Paramount Chief, the most powerful man in Bayana, perhaps also in the whole world. In addition, I am the chief commander of the Bayana Armed Forces, fifteen thousand soldiers in full battle gear. But your beauty, Sura, is greater than my scepter of state here. I always cherish your company because your face fills me with joy even as the sun fills the farmlands with warmth.

"Thank you. I feel flattered, oh great leader of the Bayana, by your good words about me. But as I have told you many times before, I am already betrothed to another man. I wish you could be kind enough to let the existing state of affairs remain undisturbed. Alas, oh great leader, my pearls are tinted with the unfading reflection of someone else.

Hoo-ha? Lotus! You are so young and also rather naïve. You lack tact in your choice of words when addressing a Paramount Chief. A slap on the face of a sovereign is a slap on the face of the whole nation. Don’t you know that were it not for my tender heart, my men would have executed that villain lover of yours as a hazard to national security and a traitor to the people of Bayana?

The man is innocent! Please set Tatiza free, chief Mastodon Jeuri. There is no amount of secret and dishonest slander that can overshadow the beauty of a man in love with a woman. And she thought of the courage, simplicity and decency of her Hornet Tatiza.

Your declarations of love will fall flat like a petal on muddy soil so long as you continue to strangle the pace-setter of my heart.

Stepping out of the seat of state and moving close to her the Paramount Chief said in a husky assertive whisper, I wish that you be my lover, the true mistress of my heart. Let me know today, sweetest Lotus Sura, what it is that you would like me to do for you. What gift your heart cherishes most. I have gold and diamonds jewels and leatherwear, wrought by the most skilled craftsmen; I have gorgeous flower gardens sheltered from the dirt of day by day folks. I have servants to minister to you Sura as my glamorous mistress; I have just about anything that your mind can dream of. Just say it and you’ll get it, now!

You speak and act with confidence because you are a great man- rich and very powerful, folding her arms below the chest, Sura replied in a low solemn voice. I feel proud to be a humble subject in your territory. Yet, if I accept even a single bead from you so as to promise my love, I would become a liar. The gleam of your courtship comes too late and falls upon a flower that is already in the hand of someone else.

The chief’s face was a block of granite. He came and stood beside her, very close to her. He grabbed her in the hair and turned her face upward so that he stared into her eyes. His vagrant eyes met the flit loneliness along with traces of genuine fear inside hers. He pulled her to himself so that her bust rested against his high torso. Her breath warmed his lower lip.

"A delicacy so young, yet so insolent! Why? Your unceasing play with my wits cannot be tolerated any more. You take advantage of my kindness to torment and humiliate me!

Sura!Why?"

The tension in his crotch was hard knotted. Sura’s heart nearly stood still because she was sickened by his asinine behavior. In a moment of reckless fury, he thrust his three middle fingers into her blouse, hooked them against her brassiere and then forcefully ripped the garment asunder, exposing the chocolate skin of her breasts. Her heart quivered with dread and she screamed in horror No! Help! No!

Then Sura instinctively realized the futility of screaming while inside the Paramount Chief’s private chamber as nobody would dare to come in to help her. She was alone with the brute, and the situation was not likely to be changed by the ill-advised toil of her throat. She took a moment of reflection, pulling away from him, waiting to unwind before further action. She needed to change tact and quickly.

You filthy lustful beast! she yelled, her bold eyes rusty-red in tearful anger, the lips trembling. You can take me by force- if you so wish- and I will not do anything to you. Remember you are a Paramount Chief and a very beefy man too. I am just a little woman. But you will not have won my heart by doing so. If your armory of love weapons is without the right caliber of arrow to pierce my heart, then may be, you should try brute force and rape me. I am your loyal subject, you know?

Paramount Chief Mastodon Jeuri was quiet for a brief moment, gawking at her tense face, anger welling up in his own. Her pith comment had stabbed his ego fiercely. Thus very frustrated, he slapped her hard across the face and walked out of the room, feeling humiliated and depraved.

Now alone and with a torn blouse, Lotus Sura felt chilling exasperation as well as the hot pain in her face overcome her, even as tear drops rolled down her cheeks. Then holding her broken garments together with her right hand, she sighed and wiped the tears with a handkerchief. In her nostrils the handkerchief smacked of the wild thyme scent that she often used. After that, and now feeling calmer, she walked out of the chamber, closing the door gently behind her, and marched boldly towards the luxurious women’s quarters of the palace.

A few days later, Mastodon Jeuri was driven in his chariot to the official administrative headquarters, just about half an hour’s horse ride from the palace. And immediately after settling on the decorated stool of state, he ordered that Nabii Scorpio be brought to his office. Scorpio was the seer, the weather prophet, who best understood the chief’s fickle moods. A short while later, the fore-knower, armed with a neat leather bag, entered the large chamber.

Welcome Nabii Scorpio, the chief said standing up and extending a warm handshake. It has been quite sometime since we met last. So how has life been treating you?

Thank you your Excellency for remembering me. I am alright and life has been fine. But your eminence there has of late emerged nebulous clouds of evil between the stars and the orbs. This has made my work of reading the future very difficult as the geomancy crystal balls only reveal boiling rice.

Oh? The chief appeared positively horrified as he shifted uncomfortably on the large blue floral fabric of the stool of state. That’s very strange. What exactly is happening?

Nobody really knows. But my guess is that there seems to b e a very serious misunderstanding between Neptune, the traditional god possessing power of the seven seas, and the thundercloud of Orion, the giant hunter. Lately, this has degenerated into sword-flashing confrontations that are shedding tremors throughout the universe.

My, goodness! Is that so? What is the real cause of the misunderstanding?

Nobody on planet Earth can tell that. Geomancy divinations rely on earth-based imagery and lines of force.

Well, I hope that this has not interfered with my personal future as well as the future of Bayana as a nation, has it?

Oh, no, no! I would have alerted you as soon as the red Raven flipped its ominous wings over the horizon. My prognosis states that the eidolon of your Excellency’s future is unbroken and firm. And what is more, even the celestial orbs look favorably upon it.

Now Nabii Scorpio, that was the point of my calling you here today. What exactly does my future contain? What exactly do you see inside those crystal spheres concerning me?

My most benevolent master, I say to you there is nothing to worry about. Nabii Scorpio is always clear-eyed about the type of embryo the womb of time carries for you. Whenever I cast my eyes upon the crystal ball, I see at a glance the way all the components of your future fit together. And there is no dark cloud whatsoever. The mother of your Almond-love is all-caring and charming too. The gentility of her manners is remarkable, even a little too sugary sometimes; I tell you, our great Paramount Chief.

Oh that’s truly encouraging to hear, Nabii Scorpio. You see, Nabii Scorpio, presently I have very important projects that I am implementing. There is the goldmine, for instance, which is so dear to my heart. That is because its success will be a solid assurance to the impoverished citizenry of Bayana, that my leadership is always sound and visionary. Then there is the devilish Fujo Bushmaster who, despite our military superiority, has somehow managed to wage a decade-long guerilla war against our leadership. He is a great schemer and genuinely believes that he is a better leader than we are. And then, of course you know the convoluted path of my heart’s desires as regards Lotus Sura. So what do you perceive about these specific programs, oracle Scorpio?

The seer was silent for a brief moment. Then from his huge leather tool-bag Nabii Scorpio fetched a tennis-ball sized cerulean blue crystal globe that was mounted on a potter’s-clay base. It had a lens-hood under which it could rotate easily. He placed it on the table then fetched from the same bag a watch-repairer’s magnifying glass that he immediately mounted on his left eye. By now Mastodon Jeuri was popeyed. With the mono-lens magnifying glass strained on the hood, Scorpio whirled the crystal sphere with so much force that the entire table quaked. The ball rotated emitting light in different colors and in different directions. Sometimes the entire crystal ball appeared to be enveloped in white smoke; and at some other times it looked as if it were a black fish swimming inside a garden pond. After a minute or two, the crystal ball stopped rotating.

My master! You got it all right, my master! The weather prophet yelled with unparalleled glee, just when the crystal ball stopped rotating. Its surface was divided into two color hemispheres. The hemisphere facing Mastodon was green while the one facing Scorpio displayed all the seven colors of the rainbow.

You got it all right, my most trusted benefactor! The mine is filled with gold-rich ore. And what is more, besides the gold I see, there is also a parallel bank of diamond ore. And below these two, I can also see a thin river of mineral gel. The seeping semi-liquid is the elixir of eternal life! Whoever tastes that basement-rock latex shall enjoy the everlasting life! Bushmaster will be crushed and castrated. And the love object that my master’s heart seeks to conquer shall surely be humbled and possessed.

Aaah? Nabii Scorpio, the Paramount Chief said aloud, his voice now spiced with awe and pride. You whet my appetite for life with these great revelations. And although I hold you in great trust, I wish I could read the crystal ball myself. Only then would I see these things and be sure about them. Alas, Nabii Scorpio, despite our great yearning for the future, our mortal ears can never hear the edifying music of tomorrow because of the pervasive sound-barrier of future tense! And now what is your advice, Nabii, to your Paramount Chief?"

"There is great quantity of gold and diamonds in the pit. Beneath those rock minerals, embedded between ancient silt strata, there is that dripping tear-like dew of eternal life. You must now get the miners to fetch it for you! Chief Mastodon Jeuri, you must put a drop of that immortalizing gel on