Bennu was in a better frame of mind these days. First, having deduced his mission, the necessity of finding Mira was greatly reduced. Second, he had actually started to have partial successes, and as a result began to feel the true fulfillment in Missionary Healing. Finally, it was obvious that The Light was taking an active role in his life - whether it was finding that photo of the Capezzi probeship in a UFO book at a bus stand, or having his life saved from Yago by Premminger.
Not only is that immensely comforting to any being of Good, but it let Bennu feel confident that, when the time was right, he would find Mira. That having been said, life was still very tough. Being shot at (he'd tried to do something about Premminger, at least), for instance, was always both highly unpleasant and rather risky! And it was not easy being alone - and alone in a way no person on this planet could truly comprehend.
Many days he'd been tempted to use some of his precious Mindsmoke just to have a brief mental conversation with what, on this planet, was as close as he could come to a kindred spirit - Osiron or Smokesinger. He'd had to resist, though. His supply was quite limited, and making more would take considerable time and effort. Then, too, the one form he knew how to make was powered by Channeling, and there were conflicts with his SunPower-based abilities. (Interestingly enough, Yago, with his knowledge of infusing SunPower into materials to make potions and the like, could easily have made a compatible version of Mindsmoke. Fortunately, he didn't know about it yet, since he would undoubtedly have used it to launch possibly devastating mental attacks on Bennu.)
Bennu had just taken his morning SunCharge and was about to head off to a small site when he sensed something unexpected - and pleasant, for a change! There was at least one - probably more - Healer in the vicinity. Quite likely, the site he was headed for was not abandoned, and the local tribe still successfully followed the Old Ways.
It was probable that he could help this People - and certainly possible they could help him. He began his familiar stride with some hope. Perhaps this was the day ...
As for those minds he had sensed, he was correct. A small tribe - several dozen people - lived in the shadow of several mounds. What was unusual was the very high proportion of Sensitives - mostly Healers - in the tribe. They, too, had felt the mind of a Healer.
The was much excitement among what, if translated into English, would be "The People Who Guard and Wait." Their legends went back uncounted generations, and told of their selection as guardians of this site until the coming of the Chosen One. Perhaps this would be the day ...
Bennu was a Mature Adult, and it took much of his Training to keep to his stride. It simply wouldn't do to come running into an Indian camp, waving a carving about and chattering about ancient astronauts - and yet, something felt right. Well, if it were true, he'd searched for Mira for some sun-cycles, and she had been in hibernation for a thousand or so. A few more hours couldn't possibly make a difference!
And when those hours had passed and he finally approached the tribe, he felt a strange tension and excitement among them - almost as if they were waiting for him! He felt something else, too - a concentration and strength of Sensitivity well in excess of anything he'd yet felt on this planet.
He reached into his backpack and held out the carving he carried with him. "Do you recognize this?"
The owner of the strongest of the minds reached out for it. "I am Chief Sunsong. None of this generation have seen it, but our legends speak clearly of it. As you surely know, it is there, at the site we have guarded for so long." He pointed to the small group of mounds off in the distance. "Are you the Chosen One we have waited for?"
Bennu was stunned. He stammered: "I - do not know. Perhaps. Surely if what I seek is there, I must be."
Sunsong: "Let us form the Healers' Circle. We will tell you of our legends, the tale of the Pale Gods, and the Prophecy of the Return of the Chosen One. Perhaps the Time of Waiting is ending for all of us!"
With that, about a dozen men, including Sunsong and Bennu, sat down in a circle and joined hands. Other tribal members picked up musical instruments - a flute, a pair of rattles, and a tom-tom - and prepared to accompany Sunsong as he chanted the stories.
First was "The Story of the People". It was a standard tale, that of a group seemingly led to a land rich in the resources that that particular tribe's way of life required. For generations, happiness lay upon the People. Then came the inevitable disruption. In such tales, it was usually a natural or man-made disaster, such as a plague, famine, or war. Not this time!
Sunsong began the Tale of the Pale Gods. Indeed, it seemed that The Gods had visited the People. Tall and pale-skinned they were, traveling about the land, and even the very sky itself! in magic conveyances. They seemed well-pleased with the People and their Healers, and, interestingly enough, with the sacred platform and mounds upon it the People used. Much useful information they taught the Healers, greatly to the betterment of the People's lives. They denied that they were gods, but merely another People from beyond the Sun and Moon, but if that were so, was it not proof of their divinity? Still, modest Gods. How curious.
Then came the oddest thing of all in the Legends. The Chief God came to the People and asked - asked! the chief for permission to build another mound on the platform. He promised the chief a Gift of surpassing usefulness in return if the tribe would permit it, and agree to watch over the site until the fullness of time had passed and the Chosen One returned. Of course the chief agreed. Who would deny The Gods what they asked? And they had given so much to the People already!
So the Pale Gods used their magic, bending even the Sun to their will, and soon a shining dome rose upon the Sacred Platform. Then they wrapped it in a thick blanket of the local stone so it appeared the same as the other constructs, and set the sacred marks upon it. They showed the marks to the People. One matched the carving Bennu carried. As for the other ...
Finally, in a ceremony cloaked from the minds of even the most Sensitive of the People, they finished their business and prepared to leave. Yet, there was one thing more, and one of the Gods descended from the platform and approached the tribe. "We have finished our work here, and will soon leave this planet." He then uttered the Prophecy of Return. "You will know the right time by the appearance of the Chosen One, and you will know him by the Sign he carries and the Living Sun he bears upon and in his body.
"But we have our final gift for you - something that will enable your Healers, in time of dire need, to bind their Powers together, that they may accomplish great deeds. Use it wisely and sparingly, for it puts a great strain on those who participate in the joining of Minds it causes."
Sunsong: "We have not needed its Power in the memory of the oldest of us, but now, I think, is the right time."
Windsong the flutist put down his instrument and unrolled a ceremonial blanket. Inside lay another flute, obviously, from its decoration, to be used only for special occasions. He brought it to his mouth.
It has been said repeatedly that Mature Adults control their minds and emotions. This does not preclude the deliberate placing of mental reflexes in those minds for special purposes ...
As the first notes of the song echoed in Bennu's mind, reflex took over. Compelling it was by design, and hauntingly beautiful by skill. Only those outside the Healers' Circle could appreciate the beauty, though. Those under its spell found their minds fused into one. Bennu's medallion flared into a brightness so intense that it seemed it truly was a piece of the living Sun!
[Indeed, some of us, too, find it haunting and compelling, though we know it simply as The Phoenix main theme.]
Since there was no actual emergency to deal with, Bennu took up the narration, though whether with mind alone or voice too, nobody could say. "The Healer's Tune! I heard it only once myself, when I was taught it. It goes back to the very beginning of our Society, ten or twenty times as many generations ago as when we visited your People, when we were first learning to cast off the chains of Immaturity and fully develop the powers of our minds. Many, out of fear, greed, hate, or other Evil reasons, not only refused Enlightenment, but slaughtered those who had found it. Some even allied themselves with the Shadow Lords, and great indeed became the peril. Miran the Mage created it to first of all help the Enlightened protect themselves until they were enough of Society to control the willfully Ignorant and defeat the Powers of Evil. His name is still revered. (Indeed, Mira's parents, both Healers, had thought to name her "Mirana". They changed their minds out of respect for the possibility that she would be better suited to - or prefer - another Profession.)
As the last notes faded and silence returned, Chief Sunsong looked first at the medallion Bennu wore, then upon Bennu with awe, love - and reverence. "You ARE the Chosen One!"
Bennu: "So it would seem. But I am no god, nor were those of my People your ancestors met. They knew only a small patch of land upon a large planet. You, at least, understand that Earth is but a speck in the immensity of the Universe. In that immensity live many other races. Our race came here knowing of troubles to beset your race in the future and hoping to prevent them.
"That which I seek should await me at that site. I will stay here tonight and look for it tomorrow. In this I require privacy, but, unless something else has gone terribly wrong, you will then see that which you have watched over for so many generations."
And so it came to pass that the next morning, after a SunCharge (which the tribe found most fascinating), Bennu walked the few miles to the site, and, he prayed, to his destiny.
Copyright Feb. 11, 2001 Three Cheeks productions (Richard Kaplan)