The Islands of Akamula

By Joe Conceicao

The Islands of Akamula is a story about how a distant primitive tribe is forced by war to sail across the sea to found a new home. They arrive at a little archipelago, a group of five small islands dominated by a volcanic isle. Satirical hints about the exiles adventure, relating to an out-of-this-world influence, are present early in the story. But these end up in the discovery that an alien presence has actually taken up residence in the volcanic isle. Akamula develops into a well-guarded and prosperous trading enclave. A small elite band is drawn into contact with the aliens. But the newcomers on Earth not only bring power to the Akamula community but also evil intention. Another band of Akamulans are determined to fight the aliens who have already killed some Akamulans who defied them. Desperate, despite their growing supporters worldwide, the fighters on behalf of Earths safety find that good Aliens make it known they are ready to come to the aid of the world threatened by evil aliens.

The crisis that occurs ends in the destruction of the aliens. But elsewhere on Earth, the aliens are tempting a certain intellectual human being in a prolonged dream. Baileys dream or dreams has an apocalyptic element of prophecy. A wise woman from Akamula attempts to interpret what Baileys dreams may portend.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Singapore
• Release date: Oct 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781482828405

Joe Conceicao

Joe Conceicao taught in school and later headed a university continuing education department. He served as member of Parliament and ambassador in Moscow (twice) and in Jakarta and Canberra. At eighty-eight, he has published five books, in retirement, and has a few more computer-stored.

Book preview

Chapter One

FIGHT

"Enough!" Rebel leader Dali-eli yelled out the urgent command at his burly lieutenant Adasaja.

Adasaja had knocked down the ruling chief Malu-ipu of Okamaland. Malu-ipu was the tribal nation’s cruel and tough head man. But now his younger brother Dali-eli had revolted successfully against him. The giant-sized Adasaja had got hold of a prone Malu-ipu, the erstwhile ruler of Okamaland, neatly by the hair. He was pushing the unfortunate man’s head backwards. He had thus neatly exposed Malu-ipu’s jugular. He was about to expertly sever it, like he was used to doing with a goat or a buffalo – and with the same relish.

But the younger prince Dali-eli’s cautionary shout caused his burly second-in-command to hesitate in bewilderment. With a disgusted gesture of frustration, Adasaja dropped his hand that held the weapon.

The victorious Dali-eli’s command had the effect also of bringing hostilities to an abrupt pause. It was almost like in the quaint, old-fashioned, melodramatic cinema, when the projectionist suddenly ceases to roll his film, and the actors are seemingly bereft of movement in mid-act. But the old, silent film had its spirited musical accompaniment; Dali-eli here sounded his heroic, single fraternal cry. Enough! he yelled. His was a rare brotherly compassion that was almost other-worldly.

It was at this point that lightning dazzled in several bright flashes that lit up the heavens, continuously for a dramatic while. Thunder boomed from one end of the horizon to another, and rain poured down in sudden torrents. Dali-eli turned his wet face toward the dark-clouded, stormy sky. He felt as if the very elements were endorsing his victory, perhaps acclaiming his generosity. He was a religious man. He laid down the first of his philosophical tenets: When you win, be generous. In another area of the great archipelago in which Dali-eli was aspiring to be chief of only a little territory, people would one day utter a similar cry "Menang tanpa ngasorake". This meant when you win, don’t humiliate the other guy.

I shall not kill my older brother, Malu-ipu, Dali-eli announced. The storm began to abate as suddenly it had started. The hero had announced a repudiation of evil. It was as if the very elements were beaming in approval of the hero’s generous gesture and fundamental religiosity. The sky miraculously cleared of cloud. The sun shone. The victorious one continued to declaim.

"Yes, his rule has been oppressive. He has grown fat on the pigs others have reared. He has savoured the yams that his neighbour has planted. He has eaten the fish I have caught, and has altogether found ease by living off the labour of his desas, his villages. It is not fair and righteous that he should wax rich while he rests and other men sweat. For does not our old saying run thus, that he who does not work, let him not eat?

Thus spoke the rebel champion whose stout heart had led to his fighting for primitive justice and democracy. The victorious Dali-eli’s disciples stepped back from the defeated band of now disconsolate ruffians. The elder brother Malu-ipu had recruited them to shore up his regime. But now they were to be the ousted. The now-obvious victors and followers of Dali-eli held their arms ready to strike if the enemy did not yield.

Fraternal strife has featured in many stories dating back to classical times and even to the earliest of Biblical narratives on the subject. Right at the beginning of man’s life on earth, so the very well known narrative goes, Cain killed his brother Abel. The Bible relates how Jacob tricked his brother Esau. Then there was Joseph’s sartorial elegance, which was one of the causes of envy, which his brothers felt so much that they wanted to get rid of him.

In the later epic of the Thebaid of the Greek Classical era, two kings who were brothers had to alternate their rule, because they could not get along with each other. But their uncontrollable fraternal bickering resulted in really bloody consequences too gory to recount here. This was equalled by merciless massacres in medieval Ottoman times. It was said that, when a Sultan ascended the throne, he would immediately order the execution of his brothers. It was the ruler’s peculiar and ironic way of avoiding future fratricidal strife.

In modern television and film, fratricide has featured as a pitiless episode of the dramatic story, exemplified in The Lion King, and actually in several films (in various languages) entitled Fratricide. Even Shakespeare could not resist exploiting such a theme. He used it in Romeo and Juliet and in Hamlet.

None of these revered historical and fictional accounts were relevant to the war between Dali-eli and Malu-ipu. The latter tribal conflicts were simply battles between right and wrong. There was greed and oppression on one side, and righteous revolt on the other. Theirs was the exceptional case when simple morality prevailed. This was apparently the result of the background of a dim but true conviction in a primitive divine order of things; or at least command from another dimension! Such basic philosophy prevailed apparently even in such distant times.

But Malu-ipu had run his primitive regal operations on the basis that his gang possessed ruthless strength. This power conferred on the possessor a primordial, self-induced imaging of a divine right to demand hefty payment. Of course such tribute came from the downtrodden side that did not possess power. Such illegal payment was insurance to the suffering contributors. They held insurance for exemption from pillage and rape. It was taxation for the privilege of being left alone to pursue the meek and quiet tenor of their way. For the meek had to pay the strong for the land they had all jointly possessed. Now it was time for the meek to actually possess the land.

In other different parts of the world, nations or empires at one time or another would be embroiled in deadly struggle. Such strife probably resulted in the deaths of thousands and thousands. This can be said of what was happening at any randomly chosen period of the world’s history. Either in Egypt or in the vast steppes of central Asia or in Europe or in the Americas, man would be raising his hand against his brother. Such wars brought changes, and changes brought wars. The French had learnt this for they exclaimed: Plus ca change, plus ces la meme chose, meaning ‘the more the change, the more it remains the same’.

In the early conditions of life at that little-known place about which we are talking, this story is replayed, but thankfully in a small way. Human instinct and deep personal and communal impulse for freedom soon led individuals and then bands of men (and many women) to act. They acted affirmatively to flee to the wilder countryside, and seek refuge in the jungle and the hills. Among these was Malu-ipu’s younger brother as well as other disgruntled ones.

Dali-eli and his righteous stalwarts witnessed with increasing chagrin the oppression and denial of humanity and justice in town and village. The passion for inalienable human rights augmented the fervour and strength of the guerilla dissidents in forest and hill. Such passion grew in face of injustice perpetrated against their meek brethren. For it has been declared, the meek shall possess the land. And Dali-eli could not stand his brother’s injustices any longer.

Inevitably it was decided that armed rebellion was the only way to treat the problem. Dali-eli and his freedom-thirsting cohorts had been long preparing for this day. They had trained with sword and spear and shield. They swarmed out of their mountain and forest strongholds. The rebels overthrew the despotic rule of Malu-ipu the bandit chief. By fate of nature Malu-ipu’s lieutenant, the reckless ruffian Dong had opted to side with the defeated party, although he had originally been Dali-eli’s friend and bodyguard. Wealth and power had lured Dong to the other side.

A later society would feature extraordinary super-heroes in Comic Books. There would be Superman, Spiderman, Hulk, Batman and many others. And in much later literature there would appear such an extraordinary character as Sang Dol. Dong would share a bit of each of such characters, except that he could not fly, nor could he change his shape. But the shape that Dong’s forefathers gave Dong was impressive enough. He did not seem to possess much brain material, for he had been lured to join the wrong party. But he had luck enough. And when the time came, Dong turned out to be a god-send.

The revolutionary party of Dali-eli hoped to set up a kindly society that would assure that every individual would contribute according to his ability, and each would be treated according to his need. In this way it was recognised that all men were created equal. Later, feminist advancement and agitation even in that primitive society succeeded in including women too in this bargain.

Dali-eli’s achievement could also be seen against another certain sad background of human history. Indeed the history of mankind served as backdrop also to a sad account of a particular subjugation: the Egyptians over the Jews, the Assyrians over the Jews, the Persians over the Jews, the Greeks over the Jews, the Romans over the Jews, and finally Hitler against the Jews. In brief, if you want to know about subjugation, talk to the Jews. It was as if the hand of the Almighty was raised against them.

Chapter Two

JUDGMENT AND CONDEMNATION

Where our story is concerned, as the sky cleared, and the sun shone as if it were from the gracious Almighty himself, Adasaja gave voice to the crying need of the moment. It was a question which the victorious warriors were asking, "What are we going to do to him?"

Dali-eli’s guerrilla chief pointed his parang knife at the prone figure of the defeated oppressor. Such a question had been frequently asked and long ago, for example, in one of the more civilised empires of ancient Cathay, regarding the fate of a defeated prince. The Emperor’s advisers had no hesitation in recommending the immediate execution of the loser.

This was accomplished in the cruellest manner – probably by the fallen hero being quartered alive, his body drawn asunder by four horses urged to gallop in different directions. In another more barbarous instance, the victorious Empress would force the defeated one, who had been expecting the death of a thousand cuts, to instead become her son-in-law. The Orientals believed in Fate.

The European historical theatre produced the horrifying Rumanian King Vlad the Impaler, feared and hated for his torture. Vlad’s favourite method of punishment for those he disliked on sight was to throw them on to a forest of upright stakes. He also enjoyed sticking a stake through the entire body, lengthwise of each sufferer, male or female. All this was perpetrated against the background of some of the most beautiful mountain scenery in the world.

This royal psychotic personage would enjoy the sight, or the thought, of the tormented victim dying in frightful agony. Such treatment was meted out quite indiscriminately, it is said, to tens of thousands of victims. Thus the region was unfairly given the popular reputation of sourcing the greatest number of blood-seeking human vampires. A later English writer immortalised Vlad through a literary best seller entitled Dracula. But Dracula was a frightful character, with two protruding incisor teeth, who preferred to be a blood-sucking vampire, rather than one who flung his victims on wooden stakes. Thus Literature is capable of drawing one evil figure from another.

And, by the way, one need not necessarily be inspired by Literature or Legend, to devise death by impalement. In this present writer’s historical wanderings, urged by his interest in ancestral peccadilloes, he noted the riotous role the Portuguese Conquistadores played in the 15th/16th Century’s Luso-Hispanic Movement for World Colonisation.

In Burma, namely today’s Myanmar, a small Luso-Myanmar (Eurasian) community continues to dwell in the Valley of the River Mu. These are gentle people who possess the facial features of a blend of their Portuguese and Myanmar forebears. But their ancestors were possibly not too close to being gentle: particularly perhaps on the Portuguese side. These included fierce Portuguese mercenaries who operated in the region comprising Northwest Myanmar and a small portion of East Bengal. They were reputed to occupy their time in slave-trading, in cooperation with Arakan people of Myanmar; as well as smuggling and other honest commerce.

In addition the Portuguese migratory elements also served as soldiers and military advisers in the armies of those local kings who favoured them. The leaders of these migrants and colonists (although they failed to obtain permission from Goa or Lisbon to colonise) wielded powerful influence. Outstanding among them was Felipe de Brito.

Our own modern times have envisaged a view that sovereign nations – never mind individuals like Vlad – sovereign nations cannot with impunity commit crimes against humanity. Thus Nazi leaders have been executed for the Holocaust and Japanese military for war crimes. This brings up a vexed question: to what extent can the consequences be justified, for example, of a powerful country’s mal-intentioned punitive action against, for example, Iraq, which has carried with it that country’s devastation? It would appear that right comes with might, or as a Chinese sage intoned, power comes out of the barrel of a gun. Or virtue derives from victory.

Dali-eli – coming only from a simple, savage, primitive tribal environment – was inspired to temper justice with mercy. But, in his own thinking, Dali-eli’s actions would have been seemingly justified by heavenly sanctions. Thus he pronounced judgment. I will exile my brother. We shall make his robbers build their own boats, and we shall put them all in these craft and force them out towards the far sea. Let the devils of the ocean take care of their own. Let the wind and the sea decide their fate. They shall be faced with dire fate if they try to return.

Thus did the new ruler prince speak, and thus was it done. Malu-ipu would not have been ruler, however unjust, had he not been enterprising. Now his enterprising spirit, driven to desperation, led him to seek the tallest trees in the neighbouring jungle, and to supervise their fashioning into reliable sea-going boats. The tribes that had been sentenced to exile launched themselves on to the great ocean.

Chapter Three

FLIGHT AND VOYAGE OF THE CONDEMNED

The boat-building skills and seamanship of Malu-ipu and his followers were not a completely unique accomplishment among Pacific Ocean islanders of Malu-ipu’s day. About the same period some islanders from Polynesia embarked on wave after wave of migration from their original island homes. Amazingly similar to the vessels Malu-ipu and his followers constructed, the Polynesians built long boats that could contain between fifty to a hundred people each.

Each of these large and extraordinary sea-going canoes had been fashioned out of single massive tree-trunks. Basically oar-driven, they were equipped with special steering gear and also sails to ensure safe navigation. Some were shaped like catamarans, with one or two pontoon-like structures at the side. The Polynesian voyagers arrived in a land they called Aotearoa, or land of the great white cloud. A different fate brought Malu-ipu and his fellow-voyagers to a group of islands that they named Akamula.

The islands of Akamula are situated, as everyone who has a handy atlas knows, among the deepest ocean troughs in the world. The ocean’s accumulated colour was black, but that was because the atlas will show that they are in the celebrated Akamula Sea. This sea is one of the outstanding oceanic locations celebrated for the vastness of its depth. Still, light travelled to a reasonable distance below the surface of the clear water. So that when you dropped a coin you could see it wafting down and perhaps being gulped by a barracuda.

Even in a future century, the Sea would impress its tourist visitors with its magnificent depth. Many a Japanese or American tourist in times ahead would lean over the side of his excursion craft to have a better look at the glittering ocean throbbing with marine life. Inevitably one of such breed would accidentally drop his camera overboard. He would see the article winging downward in the pellucid depths for an agonisingly long time until it faded away and finally disappeared.

Scientists called the oceanic trough, which aroused the tourist’s curiosity, a deep depression. That was exactly what would also be registered on the features of the tourist who lost his camera. But he would be amply compensated, when he went to shallower waters, by the sheer beauty of coral and nature’s infinite variety of fish of dazzling colour and different size and shape. That would be if he could cease to regret his worldly loss and prepare for an aesthetic and spiritual experience.

While voyaging to Akamula the exiles, like the future tourist would have occasion to view many aspects of the seas they were crossing. The migrating exiles braved driving rainstorms that suddenly tossed up exceedingly high waves. Spectacular calm weather could follow a spectacular storm. The mariners took the rough with the smooth. Of course they exploited the huge quantity of marine food available. Such kinds were different from the reef and shore fish to which they had been accustomed.

They enjoyed the sight of sharks and impressively large ray fish and octopuses. Sailors from one of the boats recorded a fight between an octopus and a shark. It was on one of those spectacular, clear calm days, when one could see to an unusual depth. The octopus won, its tentacles overwhelming the shark, despite the shark’s hundreds of teeth. But one more frequent, entertaining episode was to watch barracuda pursuing flying fish, known locally as exocoetidae. The flying fish would leap out of the