"Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God."
                                      -Book of Bokonon


Jameson W. Walker, Part II
__________________________


     A gradual awareness, of warmth above, of cold below.  Toes
digging in the cool, dark dirt.  Fingers reaching, spreading wide, to
absorb the light that is warm.  A stretch and shrug to waken the slow
flowing sap.  No, blood.  Roots.  Hands?  Trunk?  Opening eyes ... no,
opening to sensations of existence.  These shadows.  Those children,
laughing in the breezes.  Whispering.  Concern.  I am.  We are.  We
have been and we will be.  Thanking you and goodbye.  Fare well
slipping into a soundless noise of rushing, filling and emptying, a
flow and shift and ...

     ...solid ground.  Jameson was standing in a cluster of boulders.
The one beside her was set solidly in the ground and gave the
impression of an iceberg.  There was much more beneath the surface.
The one above her was rounder and leaned against the iceberg forming a
sheltering cave.  The underside of this boulder was hollowed out and
apparently had a kind of crystalline inner structure that created a
halo above Jameson's head.

     That was the impression her eyes automatically absorbed for
future reference, during the split second it took for her to check a
piece of equipment clipped to the clothing of her lower torso.  Noting
its flashing green light, she let out a slow breath and unclipped it
to examine it more closely.  She pressed a button a number of times,
reading the words as they skated across a tiny screen.  She clipped it
back on her belt.

     Unslinging her pack, she checked its contents, then withdrew from
its innards a small oblong cylinder.  Aiming it downward and
depressing a hidden trigger of some sort, she caused the cylinder to
emit a beam of red light.  Twisting one end from which the light
originated, she changed the light to green, then yellow.  By doing a
bit of fine adjustment, Jameson's device achieved a pale yellow.  This
light Jameson brought up slowly, and allowed to touch the very edge of
the crystals.  The beam was reflected inward where Jameson could see
it careening off the tiny walls of the collected crystals and bouncing
around like a crazed weasel.  It eventually disappeared with a flash
somewhere deep in the crystal.  Jameson deactivated her light.

     Murmuring "directional amplifier" to herself, she stored the
light back in her pack and pulled out her word box instead.  She moved
out from under the crystals, sat down and opened the box.  Quickly
checking both stored and new data, she fine-tuned her latest bits of
information, then stashed the box again.  Glancing up, she noted this
world had one sun (so far), which didn't mean much, but narrowed the
field slightly.  She took the round indicator device from the pack and
rested it on her knee.  Once the arrow settled down, the word COMPASS
was visible embossed on its surface.  Jameson opened the lid of the
compass and cleaned something out, then observed the arrows' direction
in relation to the sun, which was a bit low, just slightly above the
boulder in front of her, and off to her right.

     After fiddling for a while, she gave up and picked a direction
out of the boulders away from the sun.  After a sweaty time of
squeezing between huge rocks and a little frantic scrabbling to get
over some gravel piles, she finally reached the edge of the cluster.
By this time it was nearly dusk and all she could see was a great
plain of tall grasses, stretching away to the horizon.  Sighing, she
returned to the boulders and found one she could not only climb, but
that had a flat bit atop which she could curl up for some sleep.
Hopefully, she would be safe, at least for a little while.

				 -*-

     She slept soundly for a few hours, warm with the stone's absorbed
heat, but eventually the cold seeped in and she began to shiver.  She
awoke cold, under a dark sky.  Never one to let an opportunity pass,
she wrapped herself in her cloak, pulled out her word box, donned her
goggles and began charting stars, taking care to note the position of
the gate she had so recently exited.

     Not wanting to push her eyes after the much needed rest, she did
only the most basic of readings.  A search within her files revealed
that she was out of the previous set of systems, but this was no
surprise.  It happened often enough.  She stowed her gear and
contemplated her position in the faint pre-dawn light.

     She could go back to the door she came through.  Chances were it
was a randomizer -- low odds on ever 'porting to the same place twice.
Or she could set out across the plains and search for civilizations
and/or other doors.  She wondered if the Mother Tree was able to
control the 'porting she did, and if so, why send Jameson here?
Perhaps she was suspicious despite Jameson's reassurances?  More
likely it was out of her control.  Was she a randomizer herself?  Or
did her 'ports always land here?  Jameson cursed herself mildly for
not finding out more.

     Eventually she pulled out yet another bit of equipment.  It
looked like a hand held video game.  She flipped it on, fiddled with
the buttons and then rested it on her knee.  The round screen was
mostly dark except for a glowing green bar that went from the center
of the screen to the outer edge.  It slowly swept around the circular
face of the machine.  A tiny light slightly to the right of the
center, pulsed and faded as the bar moved on.  Peering in that
direction, she assured herself that was the door she just came
through.  The line crept along very slowly, but Jameson waited
patiently.  She had a lot of time.

     The line completed its circuit without another indicator light.
Jameson stowed it and taking some food cubes and water out, watched
the sun rise while she ate.  Finishing the food, she seemed to come to
a decision.  She climbed down the rock and ambled back to the edge of
the field.  Here she paused a few moments, settled her pack then set
off, the rising sun on her right.

				 -*-

     For a number of bright, hot days she saw little more than grass
and a few grazing animals that always bounded off on their spindly
four-legged way whenever she came within smell or sight distance.  At
night she charted extensively while trying to limit eye strain.  After
a day or two, she thought she might have located the planet within the
memory of her storage machine.  She wondered idly if she was still in
the same time slipstream.

				 -*-

     On her fifth day she stumbled over a campsite.  At least, she
supposed it was.  The traces had been neatly swept away, but an area
of trampled grass and a patch of bent stems where something heavy had
lain led her to believe something had been here recently.  

				 -*-

     On her sixth day, she felt as if she were being watched.  She
could see no one.  Nothing moved but the swaying grasses and hot,
rippling air.

				 -*-

     On her eighth day, she caught sight of a man in the far distance,
standing disproportionately tall despite the land rise from which he
observed her.  He watched for quite some time before turning and ...
galloping away.  His lower body resembled a horse.  That explained his
odd height.

				 -*-

     On her ninth day, she woke in the pale dawn as shadows crossed
her closed eyelids.  Opening her eyes, she found herself being closely
examined by a large male, possibly the same one she had seen
yesterday.  Absently, she noted that his lower body did not have
hooves, but rather paws.  With retractable claws.  The tail was
animated and twitching, the only outward sign of agitation.  Finally,
it frowned and spoke to her, rapidly firing off a string of syllables
that sounded very liquid.  She responded with similar sounds, lifting
her voice in question at the end.  He shook his head.  She tried
again.  Again he shook his head, and his front right paw scratched at
the ground in mild frustration.  Sighing, he spoke slower, and used
exaggerated hand movements to illustrate.  She spoke hesitantly in
return and his face lit up.  He began speaking more rapidly and she
motioned for him to slow.

     He told her his speaking name was Seema.  He called her Djameesan
and asked if she were his totem.  At least, that's what it sounded
like he asked.  The language resembled one she had heard before, and
it had been a fairly straightforward sort, so she hoped this one
followed and there weren't any harsh double meanings.  She asked him
for his story or his clan's story, looking for clues regarding what
behavior she should be exhibiting.  He settled down, tucking his paws
under his body, and began to tell.

     From what he related (and what she could understand), she
gathered that his tribe was Jyasha of the Ano, which was also his race
and his heritage.  They had a basic tradition in which children
reaching functional maturity would spirit fast until their true name
was given to them by their totem.  This journey was mental only, and
was chaperoned by a soul guide who sustained and guarded the child's
body, giving it water only.  Children who actually met their totems at
this time were destined to become healers, soul guides or sometimes
even leaders.  Later in life, when the young people reached spiritual
maturity, they went on another journey, physical this time, where
again they would only drink blessed water and take no food.  They were
to search out their totems, whose voice would be recognizable from the
first journey, and discover what or who their totem truly was.  This
would give them insight into themselves.  They could be sure it was
their totem because the totem would know their truenames.  Stories of
meeting others while on this journey -- tricksters, evil-doers, sages
and other travellers -- were common.

     Children who had been chosen as spirit guides after the first
journey had a somewhat different ritual as part of their training, but
Seema was to be a sustainer for his people.  This meant he would hunt
or farm or weave or throw clay, depending upon his abilities and
training, and he was to take the standard journey.  Seema's particular
talents were in both hunting and weaving.  He proudly displayed the
equipment harness he wore, which he had made himself, then asked again
if she were his totem.

     Jameson apologized and said that she was not his totem, because
she did not know his truename.  Seema was disappointed, saying she
would have made the most interesting totem of the tribe since no one
could remember the last time a two-legger had come this far east.

     Having asked if he were allowed to continue speaking with her,
since it had been established she wasn't his totem, and having
received his vigorous assent, she began questioning him and answering
his questions in return.  

     She found that if she walked a western route, shading it a bit
toward the north, she would eventually find two-leggers herself.  He
asked her if she'd come from the door in the graveyard of stones and
she assented, slightly surprised he knew of the gateway.  He said his
people could not get to the door easily, because of their bulk, but
rambunctious children sometimes snuck away and returned with stories
of strangers who appeared, then stepped away to disappear.  Some
children did not return at all.  He recounted stories of his people
traveling a long distance to reach the Running Lands, as they called
these plains and wondered if perhaps they had come through the the
graveyard themselves.  As the morning wore on, his speech patterns
became more dreamy and the content of his half of the discussion
tinged with spirituality.  Eventually, when the sun reached its apex,
his words trickled to a stop and he became slightly glassy eyed.  He
stared off into the middle distance, his eyes focused on nothing for a
few moments, until suddenly his face lit up.  Looking in the direction
of his gaze, Jameson thought she saw, flickering and wavering in the
rising heat, a large Ano, both male and female, its face haloed by a
golden mane that ran down its back to blend in with the fur of its
hindquarters.  Like Seema, it's human-like upper torso was bare.  It
stood with its arms folded for a few moments, then lifted its hands to
the sun and held them there.  Suddenly, it turned.  Scrambling up,
Seema bounded after it as it began to run and they both disappeared in
the wavering heat, as if dropped into a deep pool.  Nothing left to
see but ripples.

     Jameson shouldered her pack and headed west.

				 -*-