Shen woke to find himself on a stone table. The room had a cave like feel to it, lit by a fire place and orange candles. The smell of oranges filled the room, reminding him of Loxy. The memory of his first kiss with her, the taste of orange prominent on her lip, the smell of it on her breath, brought tears of longing to his eyes. He sat up.
An elderly woman, Japanese in appearance looked up from her writing. It was clear she was also eating something while she worked. She finished chewing, wiped her hands on a cloth, and became attentive to him
“Ah, finally awake,” N’Ma said. “Lanore must have been extremely cross to ‘sleep’ you so hard.”
“N’Ma,” Jon said, bringing his hands up in the appropriate gesture.
“You remember me?” N’Ma said.
Shen nodded.
“Take your clothes off. I am going to examine you,” N’Ma said.
“Excuse me?” Jon asked.
“You said you remember me. I am a Shamanka,” N’Ma said.
“A Shaman?”
“Do I look male to you?” N’Ma said, amused. “Clothes off. Lay on the stone.”
N’Ma turned back to her writing, completing her thoughts. She then sprayed the page with a perfume bottle, perhaps to prevent pencil smudges. It was a simple enough pump, but it seemed more sophisticated than the tech Shen had seen at Easterly. The glass work was sophisticated. The top had some sort of metal alloy, most likely gold. There were copper artifacts on her desk. Jewelry. A pendent with a crystal in it, hanging on a marble bust. It had a Trek like feel, something he had seen before but couldn’t place. N’Ma tracked his focus.
“It’s from Sinter,” N’Ma said. “A gift from a friend.”
N’Ma got up and came over. She didn’t ask to touch him. She touched him at specific places on his body that corresponded to Shen’s knowledge of esoteric energy points, Chakras. She touched 21 points. A hand on his shoulder while she straightened the arm and manipulated through points of articulation. She poked the underarm and he glared at her. She thumped his abdomen, listened to his heart, smelled his breath, and had him sit up and tested reflexes with a small mallet. And then she kissed him. It was a tongue kiss. He brought his hands up to push her away- but she blocked, held his head against hers with the other hand. She gained the information she wanted and backed away.
“Why are you so afraid?” N’Ma asked.
“That is inappropriate,” Shen said, sitting up.
“I can’t gauge your health by heart alone. I need all the intel. Smell, sound, taste…” N’Ma noticed a reaction and was suddenly amused. “You’re experiencing puberty? You think I was soliciting a gift?”
Shen blushed. “That’s a normal physiological reaction…”
N’Ma went and wrote down the word. “Lanore said you had a funny language. It seems to have meaning. Define physiological.”
“Physiology, related to the body, or physicality. I have a penis. All sorts of things could result in erection. Elimination. Touch. Memory. Touch triggering memories…” He wanted to say stress, and fear, but he didn’t want to give her more ammo.
“What sort of memories would an eight year old have of such?” N’Ma asked. “I know the boys and men play this game in the barracks, but my understanding is you refuse to sleep in the barracks.”
“What happens in the barracks is inappropriate,” Shen said.
“Boys will be boys,” N’Ma said.
“Fuck that,” Shen said.
“Proving my point,” N’Ma said. “If you’re old enough to get hard, you’re old enough to be tooled.”
“That is so wrong. What if I had said, if you’re old enough to bleed- you’re old enough to breed.”
N’Ma laughed, sorting the words. She wrote it down. “That’s a fair assessment.”
“No! Physically capable doesn’t equate to emotional and intellectual readiness.”
N’Ma seemed curious. “I agree with that assessment, but we have to have a measure of readiness.”
“The measure is a person says, I am ready, how about that,” Shen said.
G’Ma laughed. “Boys would never leave their mothers if we waited for that,” she said. “You know that gifts results in babies. If the equipment is working, that’s what it’s for. No judgment. It is what it is. But you hold judgment, fear.”
“It’s not fear. It is boundary declaration, only you people don’t hear and respect that because my boundaries are different than yours. No one should be forced or coerced to engage in activities they don’t want,” Shen said.
“I agree with all of that, except the ‘you people’ part. You are us. As a Shamanka, I am privy to the male path. You will play, or you will fight. That is the way of it,” N’Ma said.
“You need a new way,” Shen said. “If a male forced a female to engage…”
“They would die,” N’Ma said.
“So, why the hell don’t you protect children the way you protect females?” Shen asked.
“We do. You’re protected until the age of five, when you are then handed over to the men where you learn to be a man,” N’Ma said. “You are always free to leave.”
“Leave the safety of the group? How many people chose that? And is it a choice? A boy gets awaken at night by an older boy, that’s not choice. That is molestation, and in that there comes confusion, fear, self-hatred, other hatred…”
“Why do you resist the path? Are you asexual? Do you wish to be labeled third gender?”
“No,” Shen said. “I want to have a choice in what happens to my body.”
“You do! Gift or fight. You’re clearly a fighter,” N’Ma said.
Shen got up and got dressed. He was furious.
“I can smell the fear in the air,” N’Ma said. “It’s palpable.”
“It’s not fear. I am angry,” Shen said.
“There are only two emotions, child. Love or fear,” N’Ma explained.
“Oh. You’re one of those,” Shen said.
“Explain this?”
“A philosophy that supposes all positive emotions are derivatives of love, and all negative emotions are derivatives of fear,” Shen said. “It makes me think of Yoda. ‘Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.’”
N’Ma wrote this down. “What is a Yoda? An expression? A Spirit Guide?”
Shen didn’t answer. N’Ma finished writing. She looked to him for more.
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