Infant Island

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Infant Island

Postby Miki Yamuri » Fri Aug 22, 2014 8:30 pm

Infant Island

All Characters played by: LilJennie and Miki Yamuri


Characters:

Joe Nebrinski - Pilot

Jay Hurst - co-pilot

Dennis Samson - Flight Engineer, navigator

Sam Redkin - flight attendant

Jean Ervin - female passenger

Paul Mayers - male passenger, businessman

Dawn Berger - female passenger

Janice Anton - female passenger

Torrie Keeny - female passenger

Diane McBride - female passenger

Oe-kwon - Native Islander

Manna-lu - Ritual Otter Serum Woman

Andu Namarati - Evil ruler of a strategically important island chain named Kandavu

Scene: The middle of a major storm that appeared from nowhere
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Joe Nebrinski was perhaps the coolest headed pilot Gen/Air had on its payroll. Even he had begun to sweat it as a major storm had blown up suddenly, without the radar seeing it. Due to the ionization and thick cloud cover of the storm, communications were nonexistent.

The Co-Pilot leaned over and said among the worsening lightning flashes, “This isn’t on the radar Captain. It appeared from nowhere and is a full blown hurricane. Forward airspeed indications … bucking 115 mph head wind and growing worse.”

Joe wiped his brow as the aircraft bucked violently around him. The rain was hitting the forward windscreen so hard, visibility was near zero. Radar was almost useless with all the water and electricity in the atmosphere. He was attempting to gain more altitude and find calmer air. He glanced at the altimeter, he was already at ceiling altitude for this aircraft of 35 thousand feet, and there was no relief from the storm. He knew this kind of aircraft was made for the rough haul, and ability to land almost anywhere … but he also understood basic aerodynamics and structural load. This wasn’t going to go very well as the storm became ever more violent.

“What’s going on, guys?” came a voice over the intercom -- the voice of Sam Redkin, the flight attendant. “Where’s all this weather coming from all of a sudden?”

“That’s what I want to know,” said the co-pilot, Jay Hurst, going over the weather reports from the last few hours. “It came up out of nowhere, and it’s all around us.” The plane shook and lurched in all the air turbulence. “I hope people are strapped in back there.”

“Yeah, I told them to, as soon as Joe turned the light on,” Sam said, “but of course they want to know what’s up. Are we changing course to avoid it?”

“I’m trying to find a way to do that,” Jay said, “but as I said, it’s all around us. You can’t avoid something you’re already in the midst of. Still, maybe if we bank south to one nine zero or thereabouts like Dennis suggested, we might manage to get around the main nastiness of it that’s straight ahead.”

“Got it,” said Joe, “Dennis is one of the best navigators ever. If anyone can get us out of this … it’s him. “

The plane gradually turning aside from its original course and dropping in altitude.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Sam, “you probably can’t help noticing that we’ve found ourselves a patch of weather to fly through. It came up without much notice, but we’re trying to reroute and get back out of it. For your own safety, please remain seated with your seat belts firmly fastened.”

The plane was a medium-sized corporate turbojet, with passengers from one company or another, traveling from Honolulu to Sydney with various island stops in between. No forecast had called for any weather like this. Not even the last one they had received just prior to comms going out showed anything.

“Just for fun, where are the emergency exits again?” asked a red-haired female passenger, named Jean Ervin.

“Over the wings and in the tail,” Sam answered.

“I hope this detour doesn’t add too much time to the flight,” said Paul Mayers, a dark-haired man with a mustache and a business suit.

“I hope we don’t have to make a water landing,” said Dawn Berger, a sharply-dressed blonde woman. “I’ve actually survived three of those.” The woman next to her, a dark-haired woman named Janice, just smiled quietly and enigmatically.

Torrie Keeny, a very young, and very attractive legal assistant, looked out the small window next to her seat as a very large wave of turbulence hit the aircraft at an oblique angle, causing it to skew sideways for a few hundred yards. She saw the metal along the pit area where the wing fastens to the main fuselage … begin to tear as the aircraft buffeted even harder.

Torrie realized she was screaming in deathly fear at what she was observing. There were voices and shouting all around her … total panicked pandamonium as the aircraft pitched and bucked more seriously. The sounds of tortured metal filled the cabin.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please do not panic but assume crash positions …”

“... losing contact with the right engine …”

“... no no no no this isn’t happening … not again ...”

“... fuel leak in right wing tanks … indication of more systems failures …”

“No, not like that, position your legs like this …”

Another massive wave of turbulence slams the aircraft. To her horror, Torrie watched as the wing separated from the main aircraft hull in a shower of sparks, and a flash of fire. Immediately, the aircraft pitched to the side and began to tumble rapidly. Lights flickered as the smell of kerosene and the hot smell of fire filled the cabin.

A sudden body shattering impact, then massive amounts of rushing, freezing water filled in the spaces all around. Next thing Torrie knew, someone was pulling her from the rough water into a rather large rubber raft. It had a large shelter kind of place with a roof, and appeared to be provisioned, from the cubby holes she had seen.

Torrie watched in a daze as several more survivors were pulled into the pitching and tossing raft. Torrie pushed the wet hair from her face and took a good look. Apparently, somewhere in the number of maybe a dozen people had been picked up. It was hard to tell in the storm tossed raft lit only by flashes of lightning. One … was in serious condition with an impact head injury caused when the aircraft hit the water.

The storm raged all around even more fiercely. The roar of the wind, combined with the crashing of waves, torrential rain, and thunder made it sound as if the trump of doom were sounding. The only light, the fire from the burning fuel on the storm tossed waters … and the pyrotechnic lightning flashes above. The raft would rise seemingly forever higher, then … a sudden weightlessness as the raft fell into the trough far below. The heaviness through your body as it bottoms out, only to begin the rise one more time.

“I think I see someone else!” shouted Dawn, barely audible above the wind and water, but she was visible in the flashing lightning, pointing at … something out in the water, far from the raft. Was it a person or just debris?

The pilot tied rope to a life preserver and tossed it at the object, trying to pull it in amid the wild seas, but only managed to bring it a small amount closer before the life preserver pulled free. He tried again, but found that amid the lightning flashes the object had already come closer on its own. This time he was able to catch the life ring on the object and bring it in … and it was another person! It was Jean, one of the other passengers, clinging to the flotation device with all her remaining strength, which wasn’t much. The survivors worked together to pull her aboard the raft.

“Are you injured?” Dawn asked.

Jean responded by coughing a lot and trying to say something, but not loud enough to be heard over the elements.

“I don’t see any blood or obvious wounds,” said Dawn.

“I … I’m OK,” said Jean, just barely audible this time. “Something … pushed me. Pushed me toward the raft.”

“That’s --” Dawn began.

“Look!” shouted Jay. “I think it’s another one!” He was pointing to more debris or possibly another survivor.

Jay and Joe, the pilot, were able to bring this one in too -- it turned out to be Sam, the male flight attendant, who was also coughing up water. Once he was aboard the raft, he also said, “I think … something pushed me toward the raft.”

A third time, they spotted one more survivor -- this time it was Janice, the dark-haired passenger who appeared to have been traveling on her own, not part of the same company as anyone else on the plane. “Janice, thank God,” said Dawn. “I’d just gotten to know you. I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“For some definition of ‘all right,’” Janice said, sputtering, as the others helped her onto the raft. “How many are on board?”

“Ten, including you,” said Joe, “I think 2 are unaccounted for.”

“Did you notice anything … pushing you toward the raft?” asked Jean.

“Now that you mention it,” said Janice, “I think I did feel something. It almost felt like someone’s arm around my waist. But then it stopped.”

“You’re the third one,” Dawn shouted. “That’s so weird! But let’s see if we can help anyone else -- whoa!” as everyone became weightless.

The raft crested another huge wave and was airborne for a fraction of a second before crashing into the water again … without warning, the water was calm, although the rain was still sheeting down. If the raft hadn’t been an inflatable, it would have sunk, because it was full of water.

Suddenly, the rain stopped, and the wind abated. The storm clouds were blowing rapidly away, taking the violent seas and gale winds with them, still flashing with massive lightning as they moved off into the distance. Behind them was a star-filled sky and a bright crescent moon, a harbinger of the coming sunrise.

They all gasped at once, because in the moonlight they could see that they were near the coast of an island. Steep rocky slopes reached up like a cityscape, but there was thick jungle atop them. Some kind of whoop or screech reached their ears -- perhaps a bird or monkey. It was a promise of safe harbor, a chance for survival. They were all talking to each other in stunned, hushed whispers at their luck.

Several of the men took up positions and began to use the oars that came with the raft after several had been assembled from the accessory pack. They slowly circled the island looking for a good sandy beach to land.

As they rounded one end of the island, they came to a large open lagoon that led to the interior of the island. By the time they had beached the large raft, they had discovered that a small freshwater stream spilled from the high cliffs above to a medium sized pool, and drained from there into the lagoon.

Paul Mayers walked to the bedraggled Joe and said softly, “I know we just landed and all … but don’t you think we should take a tally of those of us who survived, and then take a look at what supplies we have available?”

Joe looked around at the opening to the lagoon. In the ever more light from the coming dawn, he could see debris from the crash already starting to float up. He turned and said, “All right, people. It was a near thing for us. That magic storm did in the aircraft, but we found a good place to land and survive. It’ll be full light in a half hour or so. We need to organize like we are going to stay here for a while.”

He knelt down and picked up a large, weird looking pink shell from the beach, “Dawn, I need you to go to the raft and begin inventorying all the survival supplies in the emergency stowage.” he hands the shell to Sam and says softly, “I know you were just a medic in the military, but, you’re the best we got. I need you to do the best you can for Dennis. He seems to have gotten a fractured skull from impact on the control console.”

Sam looked the strange pink shell over as he says worriedly, “He needs a trauma unit and specialized equipment …. not a place lower than a meatball on hamburger hill.”

Joe smiled weakly, “And without you, he has nothing.” He patted Sam on his shoulder, “Just do the best you can.” he hands Sam a small leather bundle before he turns and walks off to begin organizing several others into scouting for materials to build some type of shelter.

Sam looked at the case in his hand. It was about 24 bottles of morphine, 4 syringes, and 6 clean, freshly packaged needles. Guess that made him the Doc of this expedition.

“What’ve we got?” a voice asked Dawn.

Turning, she saw Janice, and said, “I’ve found first-aid kits with bandages, tape, a small emergency surgery kit, and antiseptic. I’ve found some emergency rations, in metal cans that could be used to cook or boil water in after they’re empty. I’ve found a container of fresh water that isn’t going to last us long but could be used to gather more, and I’ve found a crank-up emergency radio/flashlight thing. We were lucky enough to have found some hatchets, a rope saw, and 4 machetes.”

“Not bad,” Janice said. “We’re going to have to organize exploration teams -- we can get fresh water from the pool at the base of that waterfall, so we’re in luck there, but we’ll need to find a continuing source of food.”

“Have you … done this before?” Dawn asked as she continued to pick through the emergency supplies. “Hey look, watertight match container.”

“Let’s just say I’ve had … experiences,” said Janice. “And great, but the number of matches in it is finite. I suppose I could teach everyone how to make fire.”

Janice picks up one of the machetes and a hatchet. She asked, “Think you can come with me and see if we can gather materials for … building things?”

Dawn looks at Janice with surprise, “What kind of stuff?”

Janice replied, “Anything that we might can use for … anything. We don’t even know where we are.”

Dawn produced a map she had retrieved from one of the cubby holes. The GPS locator wasn’t in very good shape as she opened its back casing and seawater poured out.

Dawn said, “The pilot would have a better idea of where we are than I would. This stupid thing is a loss.” Dawn tossed the ruined GPS back into the wet cubbyhole.

The 2 women walk over to Sam and Paul. Janice asked, “Can the 2 of you come with us to look for materials? We need things like …. fibers of some kind, water … hopefully we can find some kind of fruits other than those coconuts. They work for a time, but …. they also are natures best laxative.”

The 4 of them laugh.

Sam said, “Joe has already sent several to the beach to gather clams, tortoises, and any crabs they can find. Jay took Torrie and went to gather wood for building some kind of shelter. This tropical sun is murder if we don’t have shelter. And that Paul guy … I didn’t think he’d ever get done grumbling about missing his important meetings, but it turns out he’s an expert fly fisherman in his spare time, so he’s going to see if he can jury-rig some kind of fishing tackle. No reel, no line, but maybe we can find him what he needs.”

Janice said, “We also have to have a means to catch animals …. the ones we hear screeching and growling. The only thing we have that might even be considered as weapons are hatchets and machetes … although those can be very formidable in the right hands.” Her voice trailed off as they all started moving towards the thick jungle growth.

Joe watched as Janice lead them off. He knew there was more to that young woman than met the eye. He could tell by the way she carried herself and her self confidence. He smiled, he would need a strong person like her around to help keep things in order.

In the jungle, Janice sought out specific shrubs, trees, large bamboo tubes, and straight canes they found growing in thick bunches along the stream from the lagoon to the pool at the base of the falls. She also made sure to make landmarks in the trunks of large trees with a survival knife she had. Dawn began to wonder just what it was Janice was going to do with all those … sticks she had gathered and tied in a bundle.

They didn’t encounter much wildlife in the jungle, possibly because of their numbers, but they did disturb a tropical bird that divebombed a shrieking Dawn, probably thinking they were after its nest. They spotted some sort of ocelot-like jungle cat in the trees, but it darted away. Then Janice spotted the path.

She just stopped at one point, holding up her hand. “What is it?” asked Dawn. Janice didn’t say anything. The others looked around nervously, while Janice looked out among the trees to the left.

“Stay here,” she whispered, taking a step in the direction she had been looking, and vanished among the dense brush. She returned moments later with something in her hand.

“We’re not alone on this island,” she whispered, holding up a polished blue stone with a hole through the middle, a braided cord threaded through it. “There’s a path over there. Someone dropped this. It’s an ornament of some kind, made by human hands.”

“Should we go back?” whispered Dawn.

“Yes,” Janice said. “This changes everything.”


Back at the beach, Dennis, the injured navigator, was muttering deliriously while Sam tried to get him to rest. “No undiscovered islands,” he said. “Axis and Allies … both combed these seas during the war … looking for bases … now there’s satellites … gotta be on charts …”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Sam said, trying to calm him down. “I hear you, Dennis. But you’ve got to rest. Your head is hurt. You might have skull fractures. We’re a long way from X-ray machines and proper medical care. All I can promise is that you won’t be getting skin infections thanks to our limited supplies of antiseptic cream.”

“No such thing … as undiscovered island … but … only question … discovered by who …”


“Look, everybody,” said Janice, when they had returned, “I found a trail in the jungle, and near it, I found this.” She held up the blue stone ornament. “There either are or were natives on this island. They might be reasonable, even friendly, but they might also be hostile to outsiders. If we encounter them, we should be cautious -- don’t be hostile to them, but be prepared for the possibility that they’ll be hostile to us. Also …”

“As if that’s not enough,” said Jay.

“They’re not here,” Janice went on. “They don’t live here on the beach, and there aren’t signs that they come here often, or we’d have seen those signs. Why don’t they come here? That’s the question of the hour. Either they have better sources of food and water wherever they live, or maybe they died out and don’t exist anymore, or, maybe … maybe we shouldn’t be here either. Maybe it’s dangerous here.”

“Right, gather everyone up,” said Joe. “Make sure everyone’s accounted for, and let’s find out if anyone’s seen anything … unexplained.”

Joe looked over the faces of the surviving men and women. Including himself, there were 10, with 2 unaccounted for. Joe wasn’t sure who they were or what their positions were within their prospective companies. All he knew was both men were very rude and self centered and stayed off by themselves. He also knew they weren’t on the raft and haven’t been seen since the crash.

Joe said so all could hear, “I brought everyone here so we could have a meeting and get things … organized. First off,” Joe held up the polished blue stone with the braided cord through its center, “Janice has found evidence that we are not alone on this island.” a murmur went through the gathering as those who didn’t know whispered among themselves, “I want to know if anyone has seen anything out of the ordinary while you were gathering materials and exploring the beach.”

Torrie spoke up and brought an object up for everyone to see, “I found this thing lying in a bush where we were gathering those large bamboo logs to build our shelter.”

She held out a very old, but finely carved walking stick. The carvings along the surface looked like some sort of tree with many branches, and at the ends of them were many infants and babies of all kinds.

“I think that’s a huge sign that people have lived here in the past, at least,” said Dawn. “But it looks so old … it could have been there for a long time.”

“Well, I just want to tell you about something I haven’t been finding,” said Paul. “Fish. There aren’t any in the lagoon. I’m not catching them, but I’m not seeing them either, and the water’s crystal clear.”

“I suggest no swimming in the lagoon,” said Janice immediately. “Something eats the fish, that’s what that means.”

“But there are crabs and shellfish --” began Jean.

“Which can burrow into the sand at the bottom if they need to,” Janice said.

“What are you thinking it is, then?” Paul asked. “Sharks? We’d see those too, if they’re there.”

“They’re not, right now,” Janice said, “but that’s because there was just a huge storm here. If they usually live around here, they’ll be back. Yes, I am thinking sharks or other large ocean predators. That might be why the natives don’t come here to fish -- they don’t get much. The island has other coastline -- maybe other places are better for fishing. And this place is probably not very good for swimming.”

“What about … surfing?” asked Jay. “That’s supposed to be a huge traditional across Polynesia.”

“Well, look how calm the water is,” Joe pointed out. “Even a distance out to sea. Our raft was thrown when the waves broke on something -- I’m betting there’s a large reef out there. I wonder if it goes all around the island. That might explain why there are no signs of modern habitation -- ships can’t get close.”

“How are we going to get off this island, then?” asked Dawn.

“Ships with helicopters, for a start,” said Janice.

That was when they finally saw the reason why this beach was unused. It was huge and black and white, and soon it was joined by another.

“That’s it, then,” said Paul. “If those orcas frequent this lagoon and eat whatever they find here, it’s no wonder no one comes here. No fish to be caught, and definitely no swimming.”

“We’re going to have to push inland,” said Janice. “I’ll continue blazing trails. Anyone who hasn’t already seen them, I’ll show you the marking system I’m using on the trees. All you have to do is, when you find trees that aren’t marked yet, mark them with the mark you saw last, and soon every tree’s a landmark -- it’s like the island maps itself. But we have got to explore more of this place. Just stay wary.”

First, though, Janice showed them what she had been gathering bamboo poles and other pieces of wood for. With a quick cut with a machete, one end of the pole became sharp and the pole became a spear. And properly carved, another stick could be used to launch the spear with impressive force, as Janice demonstrated. “This is an atlatl,” she said, “or throwing stick. It takes a little practice, but it’s very easy to make, and we need to use whatever we can find.”

Several of them started practicing, and soon they had made their own spear throwers and spears and were practicing. Janice threw one spear with so much force that it buried itself in a tree and came out the other side.

“Where did you learn this?” Joe asked her.

“Just something I picked up,” Janice answered without answering. “The point is, now we can hunt. This might get us by until we can make more complex tools. It took primitive humans thousands of years to get to bows and arrows, but we already know about them, so it won’t take us more than days. Plus we have some starter tools.”

Torrie took a turn with the spears and atlatls, and others rotated in and helped finish building a shelter, a good distance from the water and up against the jungle in case the tide came in -- no one wanted killer whales in their bedroom, oddly enough. Janice found ways to make it more strategically defensible in case of hostile animals or natives -- bamboo spikes, narrow slits through which they could fire blow guns, even a rudimentary lock on the door so it could only be opened from inside.

And all of this was good, because soon they were all feeling exhausted. They would have to rest. Someone would have to stay up to watch, but they could take turns. Janice volunteered to watch first, and Joe told her to wake him up in four hours. They carefully moved Dennis inside the shelter -- he was alive but unconscious, resting -- that was the best Sam could do.

Torrie watched Janice sit cross legged just like a native with a pole about 8 feet long, and an inch through the middle. Janice took the hatchet first, and with expert strokes, began to carve the pole. To Torrie’s major surprise, within a few minutes, and after Janice changed to her survival knife for more delicate scrapings, Torrie realized Janice was making a longbow.

Dennis opened his eyes and groaned. He had a major headache, partially caused by the head injury, and partially a hangover from the morphine.
He found it almost impossible to move without his head hurting so horridly he became ill with it. Dennis calls out, “Is … anyone around? Can anybody hear me?”

Sam was suddenly there, “It’s me … Sam … I have been designated the group’s medic because of my experiences in the military.”

Dennis said softly with a hoarse voice, “I … need water. I feel like I’m on drugs … or waking up with a horrible hangover.”

Sam gently raised Dennis’ head and held a tin to his lips. The water wasn’t exactly cold … but it was cool enough to take the edge off of the cottonmouth Dennis had. He drank several tins of water before Sam lay his head back on the mat.

Sam said softly, “That’s enough for now. I’ll give you more in a few minutes. Let that settle and see if your stomach handles it or not.”

Dennis asked, concerned “Why? What’s wrong with me?”

Sam replied, “We think you have a skull fracture. If not, then a very bad concussion. Your head hit the navigation panel rather hard when we crashed.”

Dennis lay back and tried to relax. His head was pounding like there were restless natives beating their war drums right behind his eyes.

Janice entered the large hut and sat on an empty mat near the rear. Jean came over and whispered softly, “It’s my turn to stand watch. Let Paul sleep, he needs it.”

Janice handed her a large survival knife and said, “You do know how to use this … don’t you?”

Jean took the knife as she left and said softly, “I suppose I have to learn how now … it’s survival.”

Janice smiled as she watched Jean walk out the hut. Janice nods slowly, that girl has potential.

It was still the middle of the night when everyone began waking up. Jean was wide awake and had been keeping watch, but she had been doing something else too. She had been separating the fibers from a coconut husk and had been sifting them and twisting the longest ones. In a few hours she’d made herself a length of rough but sturdy twine.

“Nice,” said Janice, walking up behind her. “That could be used for a lot of things -- tying together pretty much anything, or as part of a sling or flail type weapon … or as a bowstring.” Janice had fashioned exactly the same sort of rough string for the longbow she’d been making. “But … where did you learn how to make that?”

“Right here,” said Jean. “I had nothing to do but watch and listen, and nothing to occupy my hands but the knife and a few coconut shells that were lying around. I remembered how I once learned how to card wool into yarn and wondered if these hairy coconuts could make string.”

“That’s … amazing,” said Janice. “I’m impressed. Obviously the answer is yes -- people have been making rope out of coir for millennia. If you have lots of time, you can soak the fibers in water and let them cure, making a much finer and stronger material.”

Janice brought out her newly made longbow and braced it for the first time with the new string. She took out her survival knife and made a few minor scraping adjustments so both limbs came round the arc perfectly.

Jean asked, “Could you … maybe … make one of those for me … or at least show me how to make them?”

Janice laughed, “Sure, after a few simple instructions, it’s easy. An old saying goes that any stick can be a bow, making a proper arrow … that’s an art.”

Janice brought out a brace of 24 arrows. They were fletched with some of the feathers from the tropical birds that fluttered in the bush. Jean picked up one and looked it over. Each feather was expertly wrapped with thread like coconut twine and cinched off so it wouldn’t come loose in flight. Jean was truly impressed with the survival skills Janice demonstrated.

About that time, a male voice shouted, “Duck!! Incoming!!”

The girls covered their heads as a large rock landed very close to their feet.

Joe walked up and said apologetically, “Sorry about that.” He holds up a sling he had just made from some of the parachute cord from the survival pack. “I haven’t thrown one of these since I was a kid on the farm. It, sort of slipped.”

The girls looked at him crossly for a second before giggling.

Janice said, “I guess it’s ok since you didn’t hit us with it. Please be more careful.”

Joe grins a boyish grin as he replied, “I was kinna hopin you would want one too and help me make weapons and teach our party how to use them. Apparently, we are going to need them for food at least.”

Janice took Jean with her as they went off into the thick brush once again, looking for some more small trees like the one she made her long bow from, and some of the cane she had made her arrows of.

Marking trees that weren’t already marked, Janice took Jean deeper into the jungle as she looked for likely trees. Suddenly they found themselves face to face with an intricately carved tree trunk. It was decorated with faces -- faces of people and occasionally animals, but the notable thing was the fact that the faces near the ground looked like the faces of adults, but as they progressed upward they began to look like younger and younger people, until the ones near the top looked like the faces of babies. They stopped and stared at it.

“Doesn’t this look like …” Jean began, speaking very softly.

“... the walking stick that Torrie found?” Janice finished the question, also speaking quietly. “I think it’s got a similarity … it is definitely from the same culture, though probably not the same artist or artists.”

“Why is it here?”

“Probably some kind of territory marker,” Janice said, “or perhaps a ward against evil spirits. I’m not sure without having encountered this tribe before, which I haven’t. These might be the ancestors near the root of the tree, with more recent ones as we go up, until these faces at the top represent the people alive today. Of course, that’s just a guess. But we probably shouldn’t go any further this way. Let’s turn back and go another way.”

They did this, and started to explore and mark trees in another direction. They found some trees suitable for arrows and started back toward their camp. It was then that they found out that Joe and Dawn had already gone into the jungle in search of game to hunt. Janice and Jean told everyone else about the tiki or totem they had found and warned them to turn back if they saw anything like it.

“Unfortunately, Joe and Dawn aren’t here to hear about it,” said Janice. “I hope they can spot those tikis if they come near them, and I hope they have the good sense to turn back if they do …”

Joe and Dawn wandered through the thick brush. There were many types of birds and small dog sized creatures. They also saw a few feline predators, so they knew there had to be some kind of meat source to support them.

Joe had knelt and peered through some brush at a small herd of Taiper. He though to himself that pig wasn’t spectacular for you, but it was food and did taste very good when prepared properly. He turns as he hears Dawn screech loudly.

When he stood and looked around, Dawn had vanished. He calls out with major concern in his voice, “Dawn? Where are you? What happened?”

The only sounds he heard, were the distant calls of birds, and the low animal sounds that were normal in this environment. Joe comes face to face with a large tree ornately carved, with many faces on it … and some animals. As his eyes went up the trunk of the carvings, he noticed that the images of faces became younger and younger as they rose up the tree. Joe quickly returned to camp to tell what had happened and what he had found.

Sitting around the fire pit, all the survivors listened to Joe’s tale. Janice raised her hand, Joe pointed to her.

Janice said softly, “Me and Jean found a similar totem on the southern side of camp while were were looking for arrow and bow woods.”

Joe replied, “It seems, the natives might be hostile. We need to go and look for Dawn.”

The group gathered what weapons they had at the moment, and proceeded into the brush in search of Dawn.

Shortly, near the place Joe had lost sight of Dawn, the group heard an infant crying. They found it all tangled up in what looked like the same clothing Dawn had on when she vanished.

Joe said to the group, “How in all the world did a baby get out here in this mess? I wonder who her parents are and where they are?”

Torrie knelt down and picked up the screeching baby. “She doesn’t look Polynesian,” Torrie said. “There, there, please don’t cry,” she told the baby, rocking her in her arms. “You don’t suppose … she’s …”

“That’s ridiculous, Torrie,” said Diane McBride, who had been exploring down the coastline all day. “I know what it looks like … Dawn’s clothes in a pile on the ground, that baby buried in them … Dawn nowhere to be seen … but come on. People don’t just turn into babies.”

“I’ve seen some unusual things,” said Janice, “but that’s something I’ve never seen.”

“So … if it’s not Dawn, where is she?” asked Joe. “And if it is Dawn, how did this happen?

Nobody seemed to have an answer to those questions “Well we can’t leave a baby alone in the jungle to get eaten by wild animals,” said Torrie. “That would be cruel.” To the baby, she said in a soothing voice, “It’ll be OK, we’re taking you to camp.

As the group was walking back to camp, Diane felt a sharp sting in the back of her neck. She slaps at it, only to find a small thorn with some down around one end stuck in her skin.

Diane called out, “Hey guys, I think someone is using a blow …” her voice ended abruptly.

Everyone stopped and turned. Where they expected to see Diane McBride, they saw another pile of clothing like what she was wearing … with another adorable little baby sitting in the midst of them looking around with big amazed eyes.

Torrie said with a near screech in her voice, “People just don’t turn into babies is it?” she points to the new baby behind them, “Then tell me just what happened to Diane … and where did that baby come from?”

Everyone looked on with amazement on their faces. Janice spotted the dart lying close by the baby and bent to pick it up. As she knelt, another dart stuck deeply into the tree right next to where she would have been standing if she hadn’t bent over.

Janice’s eyes narrowed as she sees a shadow in a location that appeared to be out of place in the mottled light of the jungle. Quick as a striking cobra, Janice drew her survival knife and dove into the thick bush. Everyone watched startled, as a major scuffle ensued.

Shortly, Janice emerged from the brush with another woman dressed in animal skins, Janice’s knife firmly held at her throat.

“Uwaah!” said the woman in great surprise. She did look Polynesian, her long black hair darker than her brown skin. She complained in a language none of them understood.

Or so most of them thought, until Janice said something to her in a similar language. The woman said nothing until Janice tightened her grip, then she said something else. “This is a dialect I’ve never heard before,” Janice said, “I know a smattering of Kusaiean, and what she’s saying is similar to that -- this island must be somewhere in eastern Micronesia. She says that we can only pass through the jungle as infants -- that the gods will punish both us and them if we tread upon the sacred ground as we are. Or something like that. I think.”

“We don’t want to be here!” Joe complained. “It’s not our fault. We would leave if we could.”

“That’s what I told her,” replied Janice. “It doesn’t matter to the gods, apparently.” She said something else to the native woman, who replied angrily but did not struggle. “I asked her if there was a way to turn them back. She says she won’t tell us because we’ll kill her anyway.”

Joe frowned at the near naked woman. He said, “Tell this savage … we aren’t as primitive as she is. We don’t kill people as a rule. Also tell her,” a wicked gleam came in his eye as he sneered, “There are many things I can think of right now that are a lot worse they diying … and can make a person beg for death.”

Janice looked at Joe in surprise, “You … have a cruel streak in you … huh?”

Joe snorted, “Not really, it’s just that savage has no right to determine if someone is to lose their whole life … because of a severe storm and an accidental landing on some god forsaken island in the middle of nowhere.”

Janice blinked a few times, then turned and spoke in that strange dialect to the woman. Her eyes became very large as she looked at Joe. Joe frowned darkly at her as he pulled a machete from his belt, then swung it at a tree beside him. He chopped a huge chunk from its trunk.

Joe pointed to one of the woman’s hands, then at the trunk. The woman began to talk … very fast … and in a near panic.

“I left out that first part about not killing people as a rule,” Janice said. “She says the … I don’t know the words she’s saying exactly, but they sound kind of like ‘infant beer?’ OK, I’m going out on a limb and calling it ‘baby brew.’ Anyway, the ‘baby brew’ is temporary, she says. It lasts for about a month. No, that’s not right. She says it takes about a month to start to grow back up. You’re only a baby for the first few days, really, then you’re a little kid, and so on. The older you are, the less time you’re a baby. Oh. But if you’re given more of the ‘baby brew’ while still under its effects, it slows down the process.”

“That’s good,” Jay said, “but why did she do that to Dawn and Diane? What was that about the gods and sacred ground and all?”

“She’s saying … the gods curse those who walk on their sacred ground without the proper rituals,” said Janice. “She says she was trying to help us. This side of the island is no good for food because of the ocean devils, she says. That probably means the orcas. We were going to starve or be cursed. She was going to turn us into babies, then bring us to her village across the hallowed ground, so the gods wouldn’t curse us.”

“So … there’s no way to get to the other side of the island without crossing holy ground?” asked Jean.

Janice spoke to the native woman, who answered. “She says, not unless you want to swim with the ocean devils.”

“So … no,” Joe said. “We could try the life raft, but orcas … if they’re hungry they’ll just tip it over and snack on us. Those things are smart; they know what boats are.”

“So it’s stay here and slowly starve … or trust her and her people to turn us into babies and carry us across the forbidden area and take care of us until we’re back to normal?” asked Jean.

“That’s if we believe her,” said Janice. “I believe that she believes it, at least. I don’t know … gods? Curses? Sounds like superstition to me, but sometimes these beliefs have a basis in reality.”

“This is ridiculous,” said Paul. “This ‘holy ground’ is probably just where they keep their gold, and they think we’re here to steal it or something. Tell her all we want to do is survive until we can be rescued. We don’t want to steal anything from them. Do we really have to … submit to this weird magic concoction?”

Janice spoke with the native woman, but answered, “No, she says it’s a real danger. The gods curse those who cross their hallowed ground, unless they observe the proper rituals, or unless they’re too young to know the difference -- that’s why she was using this ‘baby brew.’”

“Why can’t we just learn the rituals?” Joe asked.

After speaking with the woman, Janice answered, “The rituals have to do with the moon, she’s saying. The first one must fall on the new moon, then you do them every night until the new moon comes again. Her people do them every night anyway, but it takes a whole lunar cycle of them to get even a little protection. Or so she says.”

Paul sighed. “So … how bad is this curse?” he asked.

“She’s been saying it’s different for each person,” said Janice. “It changes your body. Some it turns into hideous monsters who wander the jungle alone. For some, it just warps the body until it can’t survive. The ones who just get a quick death, or get changed into something … unremarkable? That’s the closest word, anyway … those are the lucky ones.”

Joe’s face takes on a thoughtful expression as he rubs his stubbly chin with the back of his hand. He says, “Bring her … and the infants, with us back to our camp. I think it’s awful strange a severe storm arrives and deposits the 10 of us unharmed … except for Dennis … who seems to be recovering rather quickly.”

Janice looks at Joe with a strange expression on her face for an instant before she takes the woman in charge and they all begin to walk back towards camp. The closer they came to their camping place, the more fearful the woman became.

By the time they had arrived, the woman had nearly become a hysterical idiot. Janice had to tie the woman's arms to keep her from escaping she struggled so hard.

Jay commented, “If I didn’t know better … I would say the savage is very scared of where we set up camp.”

Joe looked over the area. By this time, they had managed to set it up where it looked like one of those very expensive island getaways on the smaller islands of Hawaii … or Palau. The large shelter they had constructed actually had begun to look like a regular hut with the additions of the woven frond matting they had all worked on.

Joe knew they couldn’t survive on just crabs, coconuts, and the strange bitter sweet fruits they had found by the waterfall. The only fish they had found, were in the falls pool. They were mostly very small and bony with little meat. The Orcas kept the lagoon clear of anything larger that might be edible.

The woman struggled vainly to escape. She began to babble in a near panic. Janice was doing her very best to calm her down, when Paul came running up, very excited.

“Joe!” he exclaimed, “There are supplies from the crash … the beach is littered with them. Everyone, come quickly … there’s enough, from the looks of it, to last for several months. I don’t know how it happened, but apparently the whole galley has come ashore.”

Janice commented in a strange tone, “Joe, you’re right … it does seem something brought us here and wants us to stay for a while.”

“Why is she so upset?” Jean asked Janice. “This isn’t on … sacred ground, is it?”

“No, that’s not it,” Janice answered. “She’s been talking about the ocean devils -- she isn’t a fan of the orcas -- but there’s something else too, something about some kind of … future story? Fortune telling? No … prophecy. She says it’s just like the old stories say would happen someday. The gods would bring people here from the sky. They would sneak past the orcas and build a great hut on the barren shore, and the gods would send them food.”

“W-what happens after that?” said Jean. “That sounds pretty accurate so far.”

“I’m not getting very much of what she’s saying -- she’s so incoherent,” Janice said. “The sky people, the gods, something about … the end, or doom. You know, that’s the thing about prophecies -- never specific enough. Deuced inconvenient things, those.”

“I don’t want to hurt your beautiful island,” Jean said to the native woman in a kind tone of voice. “I don’t know what your prophecy says, but I don’t want to hurt anyone -- I just want to get home.”

Janice tried to translate that for Jean. The woman answered, and Janice translated, “She doesn’t think it is your fault. I think she’s just talking about you, not the rest of us. But she says that if it’s the prophecy, it will happen, whoever’s fault it is.” The woman kept talking. “When this is over, she says … oh dear. She says when this is over, the island won’t be here anymore. That’s what the prophecy says.”

Jean paled. “That’s … not good,” she said faintly. She paused. “What’s your name?” she asked the native woman.

“Inek pa Oe-kwon,” the woman said. Janice translated. “Her name is Oe-kwon,” she said. “Jean Ervin,” said Janice, gesturing at Jean.

“Ji Ner-fin,” said Oe-kwon. She looked at Janice, a bit less comfortably, and said a few words.

“Inek pa Janice Anton,” said Janice.

“Jani San-Ton,” Oe-kwon attempted. She said some more words.

“Close enough,” said Janice. “She said that the others should get away from the water. The ocean devils might get them.” Just then there was a splashing, and Paul ran several yards from the water, as one of the orcas had just lunged toward shore to eat one of the food containers, or perhaps just to drag it into the water where it could bite it open.

They watched as the orca played and tossed the container around. After a few minutes, it got bored with it and flipped it onto the beach before it swam away.

Janice said, “We not only have the whole galley here, but apparently we have … luggage and other things washing up.”

Joe shakes his head as he said, “I suppose we should gather it all up as quickly as possible.” He turns and looks at the clouds gathering around the horizon further off to the north. “And perhaps we should make haste. The last time clouds filled the sky … it was a real doozy.”

No one argued as they all got busy gathering the many cases and luggage, then taking them to the large hut they had built. By the time they had finished, the sun had already been blocked by the ominous dark clouds and a strong wind began to blow.

The group gathered around the fireplace as Torrie and Jay lit the oil lamps Janice had devised from coconut oil and some large seashells. When Joe opened the first crate, everyone cheered. In it, perfectly preserved, were steaks, breads, and much more. In another case they even found someone’s shipment of fine French Red Wine.

Joe commented, “Tonight, we feast like people on vacation.”
Another large cheer went up as Jay skewered the steaks and placed them over the fireplace. The wonderful aroma of cooking steak quickly filled the hut.

Oe-kwon looked out the door near the post where she was tied with a real fear on her face. She knew this storm was going to be really bad and hoped this hut would survive. They probably needed to be in a cave somewhere instead of being in a wooden hut on the beach. Oe-kwon also realized that the hut was in a sheltered part of the lagoon. Only thing might make issues, more than likely, would be high water brought on by tidal surge. If only these strangers would allow her and her friends to come and take them to their side of the island. Yes, they would have to be children for a time, but it was necessary. These outsiders were really quite ignorant. But it was no reason not to observe the necessary formalities. She stood and performed the nightly sunset rite, singing the sun to sleep with the traditional lullaby, as she knew her tribe on the other side of the island was also doing right about this time.

“What’s she wailing about all of a sudden?” Paul asked.

“The words she’s singing sound like they’re a farewell to the sun god,” said Janice. “A traditional ritual, probably something they do every sunset on this island. She’s facing west.”

“Oh …” was all Paul had to say.

“It’s beautiful,” said Jean, listening carefully.

“I think something we need to remember is that this is their land, not ours,” Janice said. “We don’t know the territory, and we don’t know their ways. We have no right to expect to be welcomed here with open arms and have the run of the place.”

“They’ve turned two of us into babies,” said Joe.

“According to Oe-kwon, that’s for our protection,” said Janice, “and it sounds as if she’s offering to put us up, and raise us while we get over the effects of the darts.”

“Protection? Ha,” said Paul. “Curses. Don’t believe in them.”

“The darts work well enough,” said Jean, looking at Dawn and Diane, who were babbling at each other in a makeshift playpen they’d made, wearing diapers they’d fashioned out of scraps of cloth from the wreckage. The two were babies, sure enough.

Just then a tremendous clap of thunder struck, simultaneous with a flash of lightning. They felt the sound disturb the air, and the rain began to fall outside the hut. It was suddenly torrential, and the hut, never having been built to be perfectly watertight, immediately started to leak, water dripping through the matted roof. The wind began to blow.

“Not sure it’s gonna hold together,” said Janice, looking at the quaking walls.

Oe-kwon sang a song to the storm god, pleading to him not to utterly destroy them. A little rain was nothing, though her people knew how to build huts that would not blow down in an ordinary storm, but it remained to be seen whether this storm would be an ordinary one, or one like the previous night’s, which had slashed across the island and out to sea, apparently drawing these odd visitors down from the sky in the process.

The lightning flashed, the thunder rumbled loudly all around. The wind howled like a soul in torment, but the hut held fast. Oe-kwon was impressed with these strangers. Apparently they understood how to follow the path of Humans well.

Oe-kwon turned and caught Janice’s attention, she began to slowly say things. Janice came over and sat cross legged by her. Oe-kwon nods and sits in the same manner. She continued with what she was saying.

Janice turned and looked at Paul with an expression of concern as she said to him, “Paul? Come here for a minute, we need to have a talk.”

Paul got up from his mat and walked over and sat near Janice, but away from Oe-kwon.

He said with boredom in his voice, “Ok, what is it that’s so earth shattering?”

Janice glanced at Oe-kwon then said, “Apparently, you have discovered some kind of … plant. It’s ok that you didn’t tell us … but whatever you intend to do with it … don’t.”

Paul frowns, “And who the heck are you to tell me not to do something?”

Janice said softly, “It’s deadly poison love. Anything you do … like eat it or smoke it … will kill you.”

An expression of surprise came over his face, “How … do you know that?”

Janice canted her head towards Oe-kwon and replied, “Fine, don’t listen, see if I care, but I’m telling everyone else to steer clear of that weed. It’s called dart weed. They use it to hunt the marsupials that live on the other side of the island.”

Paul snorts in disgust, “You expect me to listen to a savage that has turned 2 of us into infants?”

Janice replied, “Maybe you should … this is their island.”

Paul got up and walks off in a huff. Janice and Oe-kwon watch as he brings out a quantity of leafy vegetation and looks at it in a pile at his feet.

Jay came back in the hut from outside. He was totally soaked. He said as he shook the water off, “The water has risen to within about 20 feet of the hut. The storm seems to be abating some and the wind has died down.”

Joe went to the door and looked out into the storm. It was true, the water level was very high, but the storm was passing. He could see the edge of it to the north as the pyrotechnical lightning display to the south continued violently.

Joe turned and said, “All right people. In the morning, we venture to the other side of the island. We have to see what’s there … and look for a food source. Our new supplies won’t last forever.”

“But -- but that means --” Paul sputtered.

“It means we’ll all grow up together,” said Jean. “It’s temporary. It might even be fun.”


At sunrise they were awakened by Oe-kwon, singing in that beautiful ululating style that seemed to be how she prayed to the gods. The sun dutifully came up, so perhaps it had heard her .. the crash survivors certainly did.

Diane and Dawn, the two babies, were also wailing, because they needed diaper changes and were hungry. Jay and Jean were trying to handle that. Sam was checking out Dennis’s condition -- he was in less pain, the bleeding had stopped, but neither of them was pretending that his state was anything other than serious. Oe-kwon had looked at him and said her people could help him, but that would mean moving him through the jungle.

“Oe-kwon,” said Janice, once the native woman had finished her ritual. “We’re ready … most of us, anyway,” she said in English, for the benefit of the others, who were gathering around, in the hut. “What should we do?” She then repeated this in the dialect that was at least close to what Oe-kwon spoke.

Oe-kwon answered, and Janice translated, “She says that we’ll follow her to the edge of the sacred ground, carrying Dawn and Diane. Then she’ll call her people and apply the ‘baby brew’ to us, and they’ll carry us the rest of the way.” Oe-kwon gestured toward Dennis and said something else. “She says that she’ll have to treat Dennis before we go, however. It will be much easier to carry him without hurting him more if he’s … small.”

“I … I don’t know,” said Dennis. “Being a baby? I … well …”

“I think you should go through with it,” said Sam. “Your chances here aren’t … well they aren’t that good, Dennis. You might have pressure on your brain that might get worse -- I can’t tell, with no medical gear. Their native medicine is the best shot you have. Obviously they know some amazing tricks.”

“Well … I don’t mean to be a burden to anyone …” Dennis said.

“Hey, you’ll be a lot lighter burden soon,” Sam said, smiling.

“And we’ll be getting Dawn and Diane to people who know how to take care of babies in this place,” said Torrie. “Sure, I used to babysit, but I had proper supplies.”

“Buaaaaa,” said Dawn, whatever that meant.

“We’re about to have an experience that few have ever had,” said Janice. “I plan to learn as much as I can from it.”

“OK,” said Dennis. “Go ahead.”

Janice spoke to Oe-kwon as she released the woman’s bonds, who then dipped one of her darts in a vial she had that looked as if it was made from a shell. She knelt beside Dennis and carefully but decisively jabbed him in the neck with it. There was only a tiny drop of blood -- the dart was incredibly sharp, and she was precise with it.

And in mere moments Dennis began to shrink. “It’s amazing,” he said, “strangest feeling I ever felt,” as his muscles began to lose tone, then his limbs started to shorten. “Ow ow my leg, it hurts where I broke it once back when I was -- wait, now it’s gone.” His voice had suddenly cracked and become high again, as he went through puberty in reverse. “I feel lots better really. I feel goo goo waa noo da.” In mere moments he had become a baby again, probably only a year or so old from the look of it. His eyes were not vacant or unintelligent, but he seemed to be focusing intently on sitting up, getting his arms to coordinate.

“Totally helpless,” said Paul, “and that’s what you think we should all become?”

Sam was examining Dennis. “I think it’s actually done a lot of good for his head,” he said. “The bones have gotten softer, just like they would be in a real baby. I have no idea how any of this works.”

“We should go,” said Janice, reaching down and picking up Dawn. Torrey picked up Diane, and Sam had picked up Dennis already.

“Dza,” agreed Dawn, probably.

The group followed Oe-kwon until they came to a large, very ornately carved tree. She turned and smiled pleasantly as she held out her hand towards them. From the thick brush, came 14 warrior women dressed in the same kind of skimpy animal skin outfits.

Oe-kwon said something to Janice, she turned and translated, “They are here to care for us and insure nothing happens to us while we grow back up.”

Quickly, the women brought out their dart guns and shot each of them …. except for Paul, who made a mad dash deeper into the sacred ground of the natives. Oe-kwon shouted something, but Paul kept going. He suddenly grabs his groin and falls over. He screams loudly in pain, then loudly groans as his body begins to change. Oe-kwon shakes her head slowly as she sighs.

Janice, the last one still an adult, asked Oe-kwon in the similar language, “Is … he going to be all right? Is … there anything we can do?”

Oe-kwon turned and shook her head slowly no, then shot Janice with a dart. The most amazing feeling she had ever experienced rushed all through her body. She suddenly realized she was sitting in a pile of large clothing as Oe-kwon gently picked her up, put her to her breast, and lovingly patted her hinny.

Janice tried to say something, but realized she didn’t know how. This was amazing and fascinating to her. The woman she had until recently known was named Oe-kwon still had a symbol in her mind, an idea or image that differentiated her from other people, but she was unable to call her name to mind. She was thinking not in words or names but in abstract symbols, and it was very different from what she seemed to remember doing until just a moment ago. She remembered Paul running off into the jungle, but no one seemed inclined to go after him. She pointed in the direction he’d run and asked about him … or tried to, but just ended up waving her arm and making babbling sounds. Oe-kwon made soothing sounds at her that she didn’t understand, and she and the other natives carried her and the other babies away through the jungle.

The sight of more civilization was somewhat lost on Janice in this current state of mind. She was currently remembering nothing she had learned since her body had been the age it now was again, so she had no memory of anything but, well, being a baby. She saw all the green foliage give way to big funny faces, which were in reality carved wood totems representing revered ancestors, and shiny white ground, which was really fine white sand, and a big blue faraway thing that made rushy noises, which was really the ocean, far below them through more jungle. There were funny mushroom looking things of all different sizes, which were actually the sturdy houses the natives lived in, and lots of people walking around doing different things.

Some of the people saw her or the other babies and came up to them and said things at them, but Janice didn’t understand. Sometimes they would come up, make funny sounds, tickle her under the chin and make her laugh, and then they would laugh too. They wrapped Janice up in some kind of cloth around her waist and groin, and she saw that this was happening to the other babies too. There were some babies here already, and they were dressed similarly.

Soon Janice was placed in a large shady area with all the other babies and soft sand under her hands and knees that made crawling around very pleasant. She picked up handfuls of the sand and let it trickle through her tiny fingers. She did it again and sprinkled sand all over the feet of another baby, who made confused sounds and started playing with the sand too. She did it another time and sprinkled sand into the hair of another baby, who started to wail, and then one of the grownups reached in and picked up the crying baby and lightly slapped Janice on the hands. Janice couldn’t help herself. The swat didn’t hurt, but she started to cry anyway.

Time slowly passed. The babies began to grow up, and to learn the native language as they did. None of them gave thought to their past during the growth period. They played and were the well loved and cared for children of the village women. None of them noticed that they were growing back up a whole lot slower than they had been told they would. All of them were being well cared for and shown much love and attention, so it didn’t matter to them. They were accepted among the villagers as one of the tribe.

Janice had started making things, like weaving reeds into hats and sandals for the rest of her friends. Jan and Dawn sat and learned how as Janice did this. One of the Village women took the girls aside and showed them how to make fire using stone strikers. The children screeched with glee as the large sparks flew and set the fluff on fire. Janice had picked up one piece and started to blow on the smoking mass. It suddenly burst into flame.

The woman who was instructing them praised Janice as she showed her how to build the rest of the fire around the tender.

One day, probably about nine weeks later, the group woke early in the cool of the morning. Janice looked around the hut they were in and said softly, “Joe? What … happened?”

A young boy sat up and looked around the hut with big eyes, He replied, “I think we have reached the point where we are old enough for our minds to recall our past.”

Dawn stood up and looked at the skimpy animal skin outfit she was in and giggled, “I can also remember our childhood and what happened to us over the last several months.”

Another boy had walked to the door of the hut and looked out. No one was actually paying any attention to him as he left the hut. He now knew his name was Jay Hurst … and they had a mission to accomplish if it were possible. To escape this island.

Jay had now grown up here, in a way -- their minds had been expanded when they had been babies, learning things at an incredible rate, and he now knew the area around the village as well as the natives did. Farther away, though, was another story. The village was on high ground, and he knew there were other villages, including several along the shore -- this was on the opposite side of the island from where their life raft had washed up -- but he had never visited them. Maybe it was time to see what things were like in other villages.

“Excuse me, Udala,” he said to a passing native woman, “I’d like to visit the next village, Kwela, to see what it’s like there. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” she said. “You go downhill past the rocks, then turn left and follow the stream. Oh, while you’re going there, can you take some things for me? My cousin was expecting them.” He followed her to her hut, where she went inside and brought out a bundle, wrapped in woven cloth. “Thank you! Be careful, and I’ll see you soon.”

Well, that was easy. They didn’t seem determined to keep them in this village or make sure they didn’t learn about more of the island. Jay followed her directions, and before an hour had passed, he was in the village called Kwela. It wasn’t hard to ask around for Udala’s cousin Adela, and he soon delivered the package. That gave him an idea. He first asked if anyone had anything they wanted carried back to Siola, the village that had taken them in, and soon he was carrying another bundle back up the hill -- it took him longer, but perhaps becoming one of the island’s postal carriers was a way to both be useful and learn the lay of the land.

Janice was fascinating the villagers of Siola, because every time they taught her how to make something, she found a way to make it better somehow. When Jay returned, she was busily constructing some kind of weather station using native materials, with a few villagers watching with interest as she made a hygrometer with a strand of her hair. She’d already made an anemometer with coconut shells. “You already knew that when the wind changed, it meant a change in weather,” she said. “Here are other things you can look at for changes, and you can watch them more carefully if you look at these little marks.”

“Where did you learn all this stuff, Janice?” asked Jean again.

“I paid good attention in school,” she answered. “Jay, what’s it like in Kwela? They told me you were going there.”

“Hi, Janice,” said Jay. “It’s a slightly bigger village, and it’s further downhill, so the view isn’t as good, but they’ve got a stream that flows by. They have water-powered looms, which might be where they get this woven cloth.” Then, slightly more quietly, he said, “I think if I can learn more about the lay of the land by traveling, I might be able to find out whether there’s any hope of rescue.”

“Good idea,” Janice said quietly. “I don’t want the people here to think we’re ungrateful, because they have basically saved our lives, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life here.”

“I have an idea too, one I’ve been trying out,” said Dawn shyly. “I’ve been listening to every story I can find. I want to find out if outsiders have ever visited this island before, and when, and what happened.”

“This is one of the highest points on the island,” said Janice equally quietly, “and I haven’t seen a ship or plane yet. We seem to be well away from shipping and air routes, which would explain why even Joe and Dennis don’t know what island this is.”

As a seasoned airline pilot, Joe thought he knew the South Seas well, and as a navigator Dennis did too, but neither of them knew of this island, which was fairly large but had seemingly managed to remain ignored by the modern world. But maybe there were stories -- had the Americans or Japanese visited this island during World War II? Had it been discovered by European explorers during the Age of Discovery?

Ooma - nu, the oldest woman in the village, took Janice, Dawn, and Torrie, then sat the 3 of them at the story harth. As she banged the firestones together and made the story fire, she took on an air of mystery.

She said softly, with a mysterious tone in her voice, “On this side of the island, on the other side of Kwela, is a small hidden cove. Several flying machines came to rest there with their operators many years ago. Of course they didn’t listen to us as we begged them to allow us to make them into children, and the gods cursed them … same as they did your friend … only a whole lot worse.”

Janice asked, “What happened to them?”

Ooma - nu threw some small logs on the fire as she said, “They turned into horrid beasts. Mindless, dangerous ones. After they killed several of our children, we had to hunt them down and destroy them. If you like, I can take you to where their bird crafts are still. They haven’t survived very well, but you can still tell what they are and see the markings on them. Inside, there might still be maps and things that could be readable if you’re able.”

Torrie asked softly, “What about … Paul? Has anyone heard about him? Janice told us that he fell victim to the curse.”

Ooma-nu replied sympathetically, “No one of the people has heard anything of him … since he was cursed. If we do … I will make sure you hear of it immediately.”

“I hope we don’t have to kill him,” said Janice. “He was arrogant and headstrong, but not violent. He doesn’t deserve that fate.”

“Then I can also tell you the story of Nula-e,” said Ooma-nu. “It is said that she was a young woman who was known for her grace but also her curiosity. She did not believe the tales of the forbidden lands, for she performed the rites with everyone else every day and walked the jungles without anything happening. So one day she decided she would not do the rites. For an entire cycle of the moon her friends and family begged her to join them for the rituals, but she steadfastly refused. Then, after a full month, she walked past the totems into jungle she knew full well was forbidden -- not out of anger or violence, but out of curiosity.”

“Was she cursed?” asked Dawn.

Ooma-nu answered, “Indeed she was. The gods touched her just as they touch all who tread upon holy ground unpurified. It is said that the small jungle cats that live in the trees are her descendants. Though how this could be, when she was the only one, no one knows. But, graceful and curious, they can sometimes be glimpsed, watching us as we go about our day.”

“So the punishment fits the crime, in a way,” said Janice.

“Perhaps,” replied Ooma-nu, “but it is more like the gods make people’s intentions manifest in their flesh. The men with their flying machines were warriors, trained to kill, and their mission here was to build a fortress from which to attack their enemies. It did not matter that we were not their enemies -- their intent was to do violence, so violent they became. Nula-e was curious, so a creature of curiosity she became.”

“Paul was acting like a petulant child,” said Torrie.

“Ah, then, so we might expect something contrary or stubborn,” Ooma-nu suggested, “but not something dangerous or violent.”

“How did you know the men were here to build a fortress and attack their enemies?” Janice asked Ooma-nu.

“Ah, we are not blind, nor fully ignorant of the goings-on of the rest of the world, here on this island,” the elder answered. “Teams of rowers from other islands come here sometimes, in their outriggers, and we send out teams too, carrying trade goods and news. We hear things. Word travels. It has always been so.”

“Then we could send word that we were alive?” asked Dawn. “Our families, our friends, they could stop worrying about us.”

“Word has already been sent,” said Ooma-nu. “We do not wish for you to be apart from your own people and your homes. However, we also do not wish you to risk your lives in a foolish adventure.” She looked at Janice. “No, I do not think it is a good idea to try to strike out in an outrigger for another island,” she said, “not until and unless you have all trained strenuously and carefully and grown strong enough to brave the sea.”

“How did you know I --” Janice began.

“I could read it in your face. You are strong and skillful, but the ocean is far more mighty than you. Word has gone out. Your people will send a boat or one of their flying machines. This island is remote, so it will take time for them to find the right one. But they will. Do not rush things. When the gods are ready for you to leave, you will leave. There must be something they still intend for you to do here.”

“What about the prophecy that said we would bring about --” Torrey started to ask.

“-- Great change, yes,” Ooma-nu cut in. “It may be so. Some say that after those times are over, this island will no longer be here. Although just what that means is far from certain.”

“It sounds like we’re going to doom or destroy the island,” said Janice.

“I doubt that,” Ooma-nu said. “Even if destruction is what it means, it is possible that it will come from another source. Perhaps the volcano will erupt, but I pray to the lava goddess that she will stay her fury. But it may also mean that the island will not be the place it is now -- perhaps it is our way of life that will undergo great change. It may mean that the island will somehow sink beneath the waves. It may even mean that the island will -- move somehow. There are some old stories that say that the island was not always here, that it somehow traveled here from somewhere else. Some say it brought us with it; some say we came here from other islands and found it.”

About that time, a young woman came running up … panting with exertion, “Ooma-nu, Ooma-nu!!!”

The girls turned and looked as Ooma-nu replied, “Calm yourself child. What is the matter that has you in such a rush?”

The young woman bent over and placed her hands on her knees as she gasped for air. After a few seconds rest, she said, “We found a toddler girl wandering around in the jungle on the sacred lands.”

“Did you, now, child.” replied Ooma-nu as she raised one of her eyebrows in surprise.

The woman nods her head as she points off towards the edge of town. “They are bringing her in now. It’s a miracle she didn’t starve or something.”

Ooma-nu smiled knowingly as she said softly, “Well, girls, apparently someone has found your friend.”

She rose from her crosslegged position, then shooed the girls off toward the commotion across the village. When the 3 of them arrived, sure enough … one of the warrior priestesses was carrying a small, nude, very filthy little girl in her arms. The little girl was being very petulant as she squirmed, wiggled, and kicked her bare feet in what appeared to be a fruitless attempt at escape.

Janice shouted with wonder, “Paul … is that you? Have you finally returned to us?”

The little girl immediately stopped squirming as she looked over. The girls could hear the small infantile voice, “Is me … Paul. I no … adult .. ora man no more.”

The 3 of them couldn’t help themselves as they began to sniggle and snicker softly.

Torrie said, “Well, now. It seems to me you got exactly what you deserved. You were warned.”

The little girl screeches, “This no fair! Amma … baby … an no growin up likes you.” Then she started to whimper and poke out her bottom lip adorably.

Dawn giggles, “Well, seems ta me we have a new sister to play with.”

Janice and Torrie begin to make cooing noises and tickling Paul as they commented on what a pretty little girl she was. Of course, they went overboard in showing Paul he was now a girl … and no longer a man just to teach him a lesson.

The priestess set the little girl on her feet. Torrie took the little girl by the hand and lead the nude and filthy little girl off towards their hut, for a bath … and a diaper.

Once the baby Paul had been diapered and put in a cradle for the night, falling into an exhausted sleep, Janice quietly said to Dawn, “Well, that complicates things.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means that we can’t just train hard on an outrigger canoe and learn how to row ourselves to another island -- maybe one with an airport,” explained Janice. “Now whatever means we use to get home, we’ll have to take a baby with us, one who won’t be able to help with anything, and one who won’t be getting any stronger.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Dawn said. “We’ll pretty much have to wait for someone to come looking for us now. I hope that Ooma-nu is right, and that message they sent gets to someone who’s looking for us.”

“I hope Ooma-nu is telling the truth, and there really was a message,” said Janice quietly. “But this also means that once we get home, we’ll have to find a place for Paul in our world. There isn’t exactly paperwork you can fill out to explain that. I suppose he … or she … could be put into some kind of medical study, since she has a medical condition that no one’s ever observed before. But that’s assuming we could get medical science to believe that this baby girl used to be a grown man. Are her fingerprints the same? I don’t know. I guess they could take a DNA sample and compare it to her DNA previously -- assuming there’s a previous sample on record, and assuming her DNA hasn’t changed too much as a result of whatever happened to her, the curse or whatever it is.”

“And his … uh, her … family,” Dawn said. “We’ll have to find some way to explain to them that Paul isn’t dead, just … different.”

“We could just leave her here,” said Janice.

“Janice!” Dawn said, shocked.

“I know it sounds cold, but if we leave this island under our own power, she’ll be safer here than she’d ever be out on the ocean in a small boat with us. And once we have access to powered boats and seaplanes, we could come back for her.”

“I guess, but … this island is obviously hard to find,” Dawn pointed out. “What if we couldn’t find it again?”

“It’s got to have coordinates,” Janice said. “I can navigate by the stars. I know our latitude already down to the minute. Longitude is tough, though, without an accurate clock. Still, though, we’d find it in satellite photos from the latitude. And maybe those old wrecked planes have charts. We should check them out.”

“Look, I’d better go,” said Dawn. “Ooma-nu said she was going to tell a story about ancient times. It might be important.”

“Right. I’ll talk to you later then. Tell me what you find out.” Janice went back to what she was working on, which was a primitive astrolabe, a device that could tell time by the stars and planets.

“Listen, my children,” said Ooma-nu, lighting the torches, “and you shall hear the tale of how the gods came to this island, and how our people came, and the beginning of the ways. Or -- one tale, anyway. There are many. This is the tale of Yani-a’s dream.”

She settled down on a cushion in the circle of torches, with Dawn and several women of the village listening attentively. The frogs and insects of the jungle continued their nightly chirping. “It is said that once, long ago, this island was barren rock, bereft of life, made of lava from the volcano. The volcano has slept for many, many years, but those who have visited other islands know what volcanoes can do when awake, pouring forth liquid fire that consumes everything it touches in flames and hardens into solid stone as it cools.”

“But from other islands birds flew, and seeds blew, with the wind. And more than that -- it is said that the gods came down from the sky to bless this island and dwell here. They chose their home, on the mountain ridge that divides the island into two sides, and that is their sacred domain.”

“No people dwelled on this island yet, the story says, but one day, much later but still long, long ago, a boat came to this island -- fishermen from another island, perhaps -- and after they went away, more boats came, to settle here. They were our ancestors, but they were quite different from us. There were as many men as women, and the men were terrible brutes.”

“The gods watched these people, and they saw that the men of this tribe looked upon the world as something to conquer and own -- every horizon was a new opportunity to take and hold. But the gods looked at the women and saw that they looked upon the world as a place to live and grow within, one which would nurture them if they nurtured it in turn. The women looked at tomorrow, while the men looked only at today.”

“But to be a woman in this ancient tribe was a harsh life. The men believed they could take any woman they wanted at any time, and because they were many and strong, no woman could say no. A woman who married was seldom much better off -- her husband could have her whether she wanted him or not, and he could give her to other men without her consent.” Dawn shivered at the thought. If life had really been so hard, even long ago, how had they managed?

“The women, of course, gave birth and had babies, so there was always a need for midwives, to help with bringing children into the world. The profession was passed down from midwife to apprentice, over generations. And once, the story says, there was an apprentice midwife named Yani-a.”

“Yani-a’s only sister was to give birth soon, and she sent for a midwife, but Yani-a’s mistress, the most experienced midwife on the island, was already busy elsewhere. But Yani-a wanted to help her sister with the knowledge she had gained, so she hurried on her way to her sister’s village.”

“But on the way she was stopped by a group of men who had nothing but awfulness on their minds. They took her and had their way with her. And by the time she made it to her sister’s village, she learned the worst had happened -- her sister had died in childbirth, and the baby had died too.”

“It was then that Yani-a swore vengeance against the men -- not just the ones who had stopped her from helping her sister, but all men of the tribe. She could not eat or sleep for several days, but when she finally passed out from exhaustion she had a dream. It was a dream sent by the gods.”

“The gods showed her an herb in her dream, an herb she had never seen before. It grew along the sacred mountain ridge, in their holy domain, but they gave her permission to come gather it. They showed her how to make an oil from its stems and leaves, and they told her that she must give it to all newborn babies.”

“When she awoke, she did as the gods had told her, harvesting the herbs and making the oil, and she smeared it on the breasts of new mothers before they suckled their newborn infants. And a curious thing started to happen.”

“Baby girls began to grow stronger and healthier, but baby boys began to weaken, and most of them died before their first year. Yani-a now knew for certain that the gods had sent her this dream -- as she grew older and became the midwife with her own apprentices, she taught them about the herb and the oil, and soon there were very few boys. And soon there were very few men who were not old and feeble. And soon boys were raised with respect for women, because there were few men and many women.”

“Even today, the midwives harvest the herb and use the oil,” said Ooma-nu, “and there is one village of men, where women go when they wish to find a mate and have a child. But the rest are villages of women, and we live in peace now. It is nothing like the times of old, which were terrible, or so some say.”

Janice had a rudimentary map made of animal skins and native inks from berries and carbon from the fire charcoal. She walked the distance to the village of Kwela. Everyone knew of the cove, but gave strict warnings to stay away from the stream that flowed to the sea. When Janice asked why, one of the older women told her of the fish that hunted in the river and ate flesh.

The walk was long and hot. Janice sat on what she thought was a nice convenient seat, and opened her skien to take a drink of water. That’s when she noticed … hidden in the tangle of vines and many years of old growth was a decrepit old metal quonset hut hangar.

Janice crept slowly up to the rusty metal door and tugged on it. With a squealing noise and a shower of debris, the door fell from is corroded hinges. Janice barely managed to jump clear as the door fell with a loud crunching THUMP!!!

She peered in … and saw 2 Mitsubishi zeros sitting within. As Ooma-nu had said, there they sat. They weren’t in pristine condition after all these years of neglect, however, any collector would have loved to have found them.

The fabric covers to the wings and fuselage had deteriorated in many places, but the bright red circle on the wings and fuselage were plainly visible.

“So …” Janice said quietly to herself, “the Japanese found this island during the war -- but not the Allies, apparently. And this might have been a covert op. That might explain why it’s not on maps.”

She carefully approached the old planes and attempted to open their canopies -- but they were either locked or rusted shut … or both. They refused to slide back. So she peered through the glass as best she could, to see whether there would be any benefit to breaking in. But she didn’t see any bundles of documents or satchels that might contain them.

She wasn’t sure why they’d be left in the planes anyway. Documents, if they were meant to survive, would be in file cabinets, or lockboxes …

… or on the persons of their carriers. How had the story put it? They had wandered into sacred territory and been cursed, turned into bloodthirsty monsters that were later killed by the natives in self-defense. Where would the documents be, then? If they hadn’t deteriorated into nothing, and that was a big if, they would either be somewhere in these Quonset huts, or somewhere in the high jungle, along the ridge, where the gods dwelled, supposedly.

First thing, then -- check the hangar she was in. Janice found a combined office space and radio room in the back of the rusting steel building and wrenched the wooden door open; it was so warped that it didn’t take much strength. There was an old filing cabinet, locked of course, but not hard to force. But it only had what looked like personnel files, from the Japanese she knew. She looked through them and saw repeated mentions of four names, the most likely candidates for the men who had been stationed here. No maps, but … there was a mention of the destination coordinates of the mission. Very helpful. She committed that to memory. She never forgot anything she needed to remember -- it was one of her many talents. Now she might not need the maps, but it would be good to confirm.

The radio room had a few documents but they were mostly transmission logs, hardly relevant after all this time. It might be possible to triangulate the island’s location based on what other stations this one communicated with, but she didn’t have information about their positions.

She had some data … what about the jungle? Did she really expect to find a satchel or tube containing intact maps in a jungle after something like 70 years?

Well, stranger things had happened … and she had to get back to the village across the ridge anyway.

“OK,” she said to herself, “suppose I were a Japanese soldier. I’m on this island, and I’m looking for … what? Food? Water? Did their supplies run out? Maybe I go hunting in the jungle … but more likely I’d go fishing, like we did. So I’d go to the river … ah, but that’s full of toothy fish, not so good for eating, more likely to eat me. How about hunting? They’ve got guns, no doubt. So I go into the jungle and look for game.” Janice headed into the jungle, away from the river and the old hangar, where her path started to go uphill almost immediately.

“Well, now, no wonder they wandered onto sacred ground,” Janice said to herself. “From there, it’s hard not to.” She saw one of the warning totems already. A bit nervously she went on -- she had learned the rituals and had participated in them for more than a month by this time, and she had crossed the sacred territory on her way here with no ill effects, but still, there was fear of the unknown, although she saw nothing out of place. She spotted one of those arboreal felines in the trees as it watched her curiously, and she saw a monkey and a brightly colored bird.

Then she saw something move along the ground, out of the corner of her eye and heard a rustling in the underbrush. She turned to look, but nothing was there. A snake, perhaps, slinking out of sight? She heard another rustling behind her and turned again, but saw nothing. Then she heard it again, distantly, then again, right behind her, up close. But again, when she turned, all she saw were the trees and shrubs and dense jungle foliage.

Then the rustling began behind her and didn’t stop this time. The sound spread until it was all around her. All Janice saw were the gently swaying leaves, but there were probably thousands or millions of leaves all told, and a million whispers could be louder than the loudest shout. Then the rustling was above her, and brightly colored petals began to slowly shower down on her. There was a rushing sound like wind -- or breath -- and the flower petals began whirling around her as if she was amid a dust devil or wind eddy. It was beautiful, and she couldn’t help smiling at … whatever this was. Then the wind shifted and blew the whirling vortex of flower petals off uphill, along where she knew the ridge was, to a thicker copse of trees, where the wind dropped them and the flower petals fluttered to the ground, amid the brush. The rustling sound quieted.

Wait -- was there a glint of something metal in there? Janice pushed her way through the brush to get closer, and beneath the pile of petals was an aluminum cylinder, dirty but intact, among what looked like clothing -- moldering leather belt with rusted buckle, corroded brass rank insignia … the cast-off gear of one of the soldiers.

Picking up the cylinder, Janice found that it opened -- it was a watertight map case. Inside were … “The maps,” she said quietly. She closed the tube again, to protect them for the journey back. She could look at them later. Standing up, she called out, “Thank you! I don’t know who you are or how you did that, but thank you!” The leaves all around her rustled again in unison, then ceased again just as quickly.

Using her sense of direction, Janice took her prize and headed back in the direction of the village. Somehow, Janice couldn’t explain, the way back seemed a lot shorter than the way out.

When she entered the village once again, there were large fires lit in the communal cooking pits. The wonderful aroma of some kind of roasting beast filled the air. Janice saw many of the young women in their most colorful costumes, decorated with many flowers and colorful feathers.

One of the young women scooped Janice up, and before she could protest, had her off to one of the huts, and had begun stripping off her skins.

Janice asked sort of annoyed, “What’s happening? Do you normally do his to visitors?”

The young woman giggled softly as she explained, “No, silly girl, this is the Feast of Enlightenment.”

Janice’s eyes get big. She had never heard of this before. She asked, “What kind … of enlightenment?”

The young woman smiled as she helped Janice dress in a very colorful costume of a small songbird, “On this day, many years past … the gods showed us how to become babies once again. No one on this island grows old beyond a certain age. The gods won’t allow it. Today, there are 2 dozen old women … who are to become babies again. We give them the brew in large quantities. They have to grow back up again and relive childhood all over again.”

Janice was shocked, “How … long has this practice been going on?”

The woman replied as she hurried Janice from the hut in the colorful outfit, “Since … the gods showed us how.”

“How do you not overpopulate if …” Janice was not allowed to finish her question.

Everyone was dressed in colorful, fanciful celebration outfits, including her fellow survivors, who looked joyful if similarly confused.

“Janice!” called Dawn, waving to her from the other side of the cooking pits. She was dressed as some sort of colorful frog, it appeared. They hurried to meet, over to one side. “It’s a big party, it looks like! We’ve been getting ready all day!”

“I had no idea, or I’d have helped too,” Janice said. “But I found the coordinates the Japanese were sent to on this mission, and I found a case of maps … or perhaps I was shown it. It was an unusual experience.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“I’ll tell you later. So, are there dances that I’ll be embarrassed if I don’t learn?” Janice asked.

“Well, they showed me this one,” Dawn began, and demonstrated.

Meanwhile, Paul was dressed up as one of the small jungle cats that lived in the trees, which was extremely adorable, and Torrie was carrying the small girl -- Torrie was dressed as a stylized fish.

The survivors had the time of their life. There was much food. The meat was tender and tasty. There were many kinds of fruits, fishes, clams, fowles, beverages of many types, and even coconut prepared in ways none of them had ever known before.

After eating until they could hardly walk, the adults gathered them, and the rest of the children around a huge, prepared, sitting place. The whole village was there. A woman dressed completely in a black cape and hood came to the center of the circle, and lit a large torch. She began to chant in a resonant musical voice as several others dressed in red capes and hoods came out, playing musical instruments made of coconut shells, bone, bamboo, and conch shells.

Two dozen very old women were escorted to the center where the woman in black chanted. Their animal skins were removed, and they all knelt. Each was given a very large clay goblet. In turn, each held it out as a very young woman dressed in what looked for the world like a large otter costume, filled each with a green liquid.

The woman in black turned and held her hands high as she said in a sing song voice, “From the time of the beginning, until the time of the ending … the gods have commanded us to rejuvenate in our dotage.” The nude women lifted their goblets to their lips and swallowed quickly. “And so we obey and return to our infancy … this is why our island is known as … Infant Island.”

Instantly, all the nude women shrank away and became extremely young infants. Warrior Priestesses entered the circle of people and picked the infants up, and carried them off for diapering and their first feeding as babies.

“Was that …” asked Dawn, who had been the first of the crash survivors to be temporarily reduced to infancy by the natives, “... the same stuff that they gave us?”

“Oh, no,” said Oe-kwon. “That was a much less potent mixture, with other herbs that soften the effect and make it temporary. This … is permanent.”

“Or as permanent as time will allow,” said Ooma-nu, also overhearing.

“Ooma-nu!” Janice greeted her. “Are you not going through the ceremony this year?”

“Perhaps in another year or two,” said the old storyteller. “I must make sure the ‘youngsters’ learn the stories properly first.”

“So … how old are you?” Torrie asked Ooma-nu.

“Oh, I’m a tiny youngster,” said the elder. “I’ve never gone through this ceremony, you see. Yes, this is my first time being old. But some have gone through it several times -- the oldest have lost track of how many. Oe-kwon, you’ve done this before, how many times?

“By the grace of the gods, four times,” Oe-kwon said. “I remember earlier times, but not very well -- the process is very much a renewal. It is like another lifetime, and remembering the previous life is difficult. What I can remember … seems like it happened to someone else.”

“It is amazing,” Janice said. “Truly this is an island of wonders.” She thought back to her experience in the high jungle. “Is there a god or goddess of trees or plants?”

“Not specifically,” Ooma-nu answered. “It is said that the gods use the trees as a means through which to speak to us. Certain trees are said to be special to them. It is interesting that you ask. Did they speak to you?”

“I … think so,” said Janice. “On my way back, there was a lot of rustling of leaves that was caused by no animal. And there was a wind that used flower petals to direct me to find what I was looking for.”

“It may have been a message,” said the elder. “You have been blessed. And on a festival day! It is a good omen.”

“I hope so,” Janice said.

Shortly, a large group of people showed up in the midst of the festival. Torrie discovered that they had rowed from a far island for many days to come and retrieve a new child for their village. They offered Liera-ah, the oldest woman in their tribe in exchange.

The young woman dressed like an otter, came up to the old woman and handed her a very large clay goblet. The woman kneeled as she held the goblet up, the young woman filled it. Quickly, the old woman drank the contents. She had just enough time to shiver, before her body shrank away to infanthood.

The group immediately began cooing and cuddling the new infant as they carried it off towards the beach. Torrie watched with her eyes large in wonder as they left.

The young women dressed as an otter, bent over slightly and whispered softly in Torrie’s ear, “Lots of us women of the village think you would make a cute permanant little girl of about 5. You are so adorably cute. Careful … you never know.”

Torrie turned quickly as the pretty young woman dressed as an otter vanished amidst the crowd.

Chuckling, Oe-kwon reassured her, “Don’t worry, she was joking. The gods do not allow this except when the proper rituals are observed. If they are not … well, what happens is unpredictable.”

“I would think that some would try to steal the potion,” said Janice bluntly, “wishing to live forever.”

“The legends say that it has happened,” said Ooma-nu, “but it has always turned out … let me just say badly. I will save the details for a story.”

“I can’t wait to hear that one!” Dawn said happily.

“What happens next?” asked Dennis. There was no sign any longer that he had ever had a head injury; Oe-kwon’s dart and his time growing back up had erased even any scars.

“Now, it’s time for the real feasting,” Ooma-nu explained.

Sure enough, the festive drums and other instruments started up. Everyone began gathering around the cooks in the cooking pits with their bowls or even just their hands.

“Sounds good to me,” said Jay, heading toward the crowd to wait his turn.

“Did you find anything out?” Dawn asked Janice in a whisper.

Whispering back, Janice replied, “I haven’t had a chance to look at the maps yet.”

“How are you not bursting with curiosity?”

“I am,” said Janice, with a rare smile. “But we are guests, and I’m being polite to our hosts. It’s important in many parts of the world, and has been since ancient times, possibly since the dawn of civilization: the host is expected to extend hospitality, and the guest is expected to graciously accept but not abuse that hospitality. It’s almost a ritual in itself. Besides, we are now part of the village’s children and are expected to participate.”

“And ritual is very important to these people,” Dawn remarked.

“Yes, and from what I’ve seen, possibly a matter of life and death,” Janice mused. “Of course we want to get back home, and I’m sure our hosts want us to return home safely too, but there are customs that must be observed, or … the gods might get angry. And I suspect these people’s gods aren’t just symbols or ideals -- I think they’re very real.”

Dances and stylized skits began all around the village, each telling its own story amid the wonderful music made by the many types of native instruments. The survivors participated, as all the village children did, and truly had the time of their life.

As the festival progressed, newcomers would arrive, from time to time, bringing elders for rejuvenation. The young woman dressed as an otter performed the process many times for the new guests.

That night, after they had all been properly bathed and dressed as children their age should be, sleep came quickly.

Janice’s dreams were filled with whispers, images, and voices just slightly out of reach. She tossed and turned until she sat bolt upright. She was sure someone was watching her.

From the long poles of the roof of her hut dropped a medium sized predatory cat like animal. It looked at Janice with a knowing glint in its eye. The both of them, sat for a long time and looked into each other’s eyes. Janice could swear she heard a very far away voice speaking in her mind … just out of reach of her understanding.

One message came suddenly crystal clear, ‘ When the time is right, you will know.’

Dawn awakens, then gasps in fear as she sees the animal sitting on its haunches just a mere few feet from Janice. Dawn stopped being afraid and cocked her head to one side as she watched the two of them closely. Dawn was positive that Janice and the cat were having some sort of conversation. She could … even almost hear it.

The cat left the hut by vertically leaping onto a ledge, and from there back into the rafters and out into the night, all without making a sound. Just then Janice seemed to come out of her trance and noticed Dawn looking at her.

“We’re … not dreaming, are we?” whispered Janice. Dawn shook her head no as she looked at Janice with big eyed awe.

Dawn asked softly, “Just what, were the two of you discussing? I mean, that was a predatory cat you were casually talking to.”

Janice giggled nervously, “Talking … to an animal? You must have been dreaming.”

Dawn snorted as she crossed her arms, “Don’t lie about it, Janice. I sat right here and saw you … and could hear you and it … talking.”

Janice was silent as she looked to the rafters of the hut where the cat had disappeared as silently as it had appeared. She rubbed her forehead as she tried to remember what it was the cat had told her. She knew it was extremely important, but all the conversation was just out of reach of her understanding.

Janice finally admitted, “I’m not really sure what it was we talked about, Dawn. The entire conversation took place … just outside of …” Janice looked back at Dawn with worry on her face.

Dawn said, “Just outside of … where?” I saw you both right there.” Dawn pointed to the spot the cat had sat on its haunches.

Janice shook her head. “No, never mind,” she said. “Even if it wasn’t just a dream … I can’t remember any more of it.”

“Um, OK,” said Dawn. “Would you and your cat friend mind if I went back to sleep? I’m tired.”

“Ha ha,” Janice said sarcastically. “There is definitely something odd about this island.”

“You’re only just now noticing?” murmured Dawn as she fell back to sleep.

Janice had almost gotten out of the habit of sleeping with one eye open -- almost literally -- because of how welcomed and comforted they had felt since they had basically grown up again in this village. But now she was on edge again. If that cat came back, she would wake up instantly. The cat, however, stayed away for the rest of that night. Janice was awakened instead by the sun, its orange light dappled through the leaves of the trees that were swaying gently in the early morning breeze. It wouldn’t be until much later that she would realize what was wrong with that picture.

Getting up and attempting to straighten her hair, Janice accidentally woke up Dawn, who said, “Mmmph … morning. Any more feline visitations?”

“No. It left me alone. No point coming back to tell me that it didn’t have anything to say to me that I was ready to hear …”

“Excuse me, dear, did you say ‘feline visitations?’” asked Ooma-nu, walking in through the hut’s door, which of course had a latch but no lock.

“Err … yeah, I had a dream last night,” began Janice.

“No she didn’t,” said Dawn. “I saw a cat visit her. She talked to it.”

“Well maybe,” said Janice, “but I dreamed it talked back. I just can’t remember what it said. Except something about … when the time is right.”

“The cats,” said Ooma-nu, “are messengers of the gods, or so say some of the stories. Whatever it said, it was probably important. Anyway, who wants breakfast?”

“I’m interested,” said Janice, and Dawn nodded too. Breakfast was a mixture of tropical fruits that Jay had brought from Kwela. While she ate, Janice studied the maps she had found.

“This one is pretty large-scale, showing the big picture … there’s part of Indonesia, there’s Hawaii … and this one is a bit closer in … showing Micronesia, all the way from Palau to Kosrae … ok this gets a bit more challenging, but I think that’s focusing in on the Pohnpei and Kosrae area … and now, OK, I don’t know where this is, but the markings put their destination coordinates right about here, on this small island, which is marked on the map in ink but not printed on it, and it’s not named.”

“Huh,” said Dawn. “But hey, at least we know where we are.”

“These must be some of the other islands they trade with around here,” Janice said, pointing to some larger islands printed on the map -- none of them particularly close. Traversing 50 miles of ocean in a hand-paddled craft didn’t seem possible … well, except perhaps for a large crew with strong arms. She hadn’t seen their outriggers yet.

Jay watched the young woman dressed in the otter costume perform the regression ritual many times. He had even seen people coming from other islands to take part in the ritual here, in Siola -- apparently this village, the highest-altitude one and the closest one to the sacred ground of the gods, was the only village on the island where the ritual took place.

Torrie had begun to worry. What the woman had said about her being made into a permanent little girl for the women of the village rolled around in her head like a dry pea in an empty pot. Every time she would look at the otter woman, the woman would look intensely back and smiled an eerie smile. This only made Torrie more concerned over the whole thing. She didn’t realize that the woman was just playing with her, even though Ooma-nu had told her.

Jean came skipping over, just like the little girl she appeared to be. She said cheerily, “Isn’t this the greatest thing? Even the music is wonderful.”

Torrie had a sour expression, almost like she was pouting. She said softly, “I’m … not really sure.”

Jean’s eyes got big in surprise as she asked, “Why come? There’s food everywhere, drinks the likes of which we have never tasted, fruits prepared …”

Torrie interrupted, “That’s not what’s bothering me.”

Jean said, “Ok, spill it. What’s up?”

Torrie looked over to the woman in the otter outfit, who blew her a kiss. Torrie shivered as she said, “That … woman that’s making all the elders into babies. She … told me that the women of the tribe want me to be their permanent 5 year old.”

Jean’s face had an expression of wonder and joy, “Really? OMG! That would be so … wonderful.”

Torrie screeches in frustration as she runs off to their hut.

“Really,” Joe and Sam said in unison as Janice showed them her maps. “You’ve got our position pinpointed?” Sam asked. “That’s … great! We just have to … well …”

“Yeah,” said Janice. “We’ll have to train hard if we’re going to row a boat to an island with an airport … or even a cell phone tower. Also, the islanders are very generous, but I’m not sure they’ll just give us one of their boats. We might have to learn how to make one ourselves. Not that they wouldn’t teach us. But I think we might want to start making an effort … and soon.”

“Why?” asked Joe. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Janice answered, “but there might be one if rescue arrives.”

“What do you mean? That’d be the end of our problems,” said Sam, looking confused.

“Sam, come on,” said Janice. “You saw it with your own eyes yesterday. You’ve experienced it, for God’s sake. These people have the fountain of youth. The rest of the world finds out about it, and … trouble.”

“But not our trouble,” said Joe. “We can keep a secret, and we could always caution the natives about letting their secret out. And if someone does find out, and the secret gets out … as long as we’re away from here when it happens, what does it matter to us?”

“Are you even thinking?” Janice asked. “Do you know what kind of science it would take to accomplish even what was done to us, never mind what was done to those seniors turned juniors -- or to Paulette? We’ve heard stories about people turned into cats, or monsters. After what we’ve seen here, they don’t sound too farfetched, do they? Whatever is here on this island, causing these effects, it’s real. I don’t know if it’s gods or what, but do you want its wrath coming down on the rest of the world? No, bringing other people from our culture here is far too risky. The best thing would be if we found a way to leave this place under our own power.”

“Hence the maps,” said Sam.

“Exactly,” Janice said. “With the compass from the survival kit and the navigation gear I’ve been making, we’ve got a chance to find our way from this island to the next, and from that one to another, and so on. But we’ll probably have to build a boat and train with it -- get strong. We’ll have help, but in the end we’ll have to do it ourselves. What do you think?”

“Let’s have a look at their boats,” said Joe.

“I’ve seen them,” said Jay, entering the hut where they were talking. “I’ve traveled to the villages down on the shore, and let me tell you, their boats aren’t little canoes. I’ll take you to see them, if you want.”

Later that day, the four of them arrived at the village of Kukol, situated in a cove that sheltered it from the ocean. A boat was entering the cove right now, in fact. The arrivals came in a long outrigger boat, almost 100 feet long, with a large triangular sail and many oarlocks, and there were docks with other similar boats moored at them. This boat had a crew of 14. From the muscles on the women and men who came, it was more than obvious that no child would be able to make the long journey between the islands they were making.

They all examined the boats. They were well-made, deep-well wooden structures. Apparently, they had stitched the planks together with some kind of cording, then stuffed the seams with a tarry rope substance. Closer examination also revealed that there was some kind of metal rivet driven through the planking into the boat’s ribs. These long boats were well-designed for open ocean travel.

“OK, so … sails,” said Janice. “I know a lot, but I didn’t consider outriggers with sails. Now where do they get the metal?”

“They trade for it,” said Jay, “from other islands with active volcanoes. Metal can be found near lava flows. They’ve invented a kind of bolt where the two parts are identical but you can put them together and give them a half turn and they lock together … anyway, I saw them do it. There are only a few of them per boat, but it’s really difficult for the waves to undo those.”

“OK, I’ve -- I can … I can see it,” said Janice. “No … wait … yes … I have to sit down.” She sat down right there, in the sand, and started drawing.

“Janice? Are you OK?” asked Joe. She didn’t respond; she just made marks in the sand. She was drawing a boat.

A native stopped and looked at her. “She has the batu-oal, the making trance,” she said. “I didn’t know you foreigners could have that.”

“I’ve never seen this happen before, to her or anyone else,” Sam said.

“Some say it can only happen to those who are living their second lives, or more,” the native said. “Those who have started again.”

“Well … that sort of happened to us … only temporarily,” Joe said. “It was the darts. So we could be carried across the island from the other side.”

“Oh,” said the native. “Well, that explains it. What’s she drawing? Looks like a boat -- oh! Hey, Tama-oe, look at this!”

Another of them came, presumably Tama-oe, and a few others too, watching at a respectful distance as Janice’s sand drawing became larger and more detailed. “Outriggers solve the problem of having no keel,” she was saying, although in English, “but so does a double hull -- a catamaran.”

“Oh yeah, they use those in the islands to the east,” said various natives, pointing to Janice’s sand drawing. “Look, she’s adding a third hull.” “Or she’s making outriggers that people can sit in.” “Same thing, really.”

Janice didn’t even realize what she was doing as she continued to design a very large, tri-hulled catamaran type ocean going vessel. One of the natives came over to her and placed a large skin of some kind on the ground. An exact duplicate of what she had been drawing was etched on it in charcoal. The Woman handed Janice a charcoal stick. She hesitated only for a second before she took up the drawing once again.

Everyone stood and watched as she drew a very detailed and complicated drawing of a type of vessel none had ever thought of before. It had 2 masts, several different kinds of sails, and several types none of the islanders had witnessed. She murmured to herself, “Can’t make the masts too high … have to make the base bigger which means longer beams which means more force on them which means thicker and heavier … make up for it with more versatility in the sails which can be changed out because of the short masts …”

Even the rudder and steering mechanism were new. Before now, they had used a specialized oar rudder that had been made from a carved tree, along with several polers, to insure the craft traveled in the proper direction. With the new steering and rudder assembly, it made handling of the craft much easier, and allowed the crew more leeway in how to sail it. What was more, the steering assembly wasn’t that complex -- no delicate parts to break, and not too hard to fix if something did break.

“I want to see one of these sail,” said one of the onlookers. “I know foreigners have a lot of materials we don’t -- metals and special fabrics and … other things that I don’t even know what they are -- but this is the first time I’ve seen one of them want to use only our materials. What would this ship be like to sail? I’m curious.”

Janice looked up. “Something like that,” she said, in the natives’ language this time. Then she looked around and noticed she was surrounded by onlookers. “What --?”

They burst into applause and cheering.

“They like your drawing, Janice,” said Jay. “They love boats here -- or they wouldn’t live here, they’d pick another village -- and they think your design is amazing.”

“It was -- just a thought,” she said. “Wait, how long have I been sitting here? I feel thirsty.”

“You have been in the hot sun for quite some time,” said Tama-oe. “Here, come to my hut. You can have some shade and some water, and we can talk. Bring your friends.”

Cera-la, the head of the shipbuilders of the village was totally captivated by what she had seen the little girl draw. She watched as Tama-oe escorted her off to her hut for water and shade. This had to be looked into.

Cera-la followed to the entrance to Tama-oe’s hut, knelt at the threshold, and asked softly, “Would it be possible for this humble ship builder to talk with this amazing child? What I saw her draw … is nothing short of miraculous.”

Tama-oe looked at Janice and asked, “Would it bother you to have her talk with you about your new ship? That is, unless you would rather no one built one.”

Janice almost wet her animal skin bottoms as she quickly nodded her head and said, “Sure, come in. By all means.”

As Cera-la and Janice sat crosslegged at the hearth, Tama-oe prepared some mango juice and some jellied guava candies for her guests. By the time she arrived with the refreshments, Janice was deep into explaination on how to make the cradle spars for the masts and how to anchor them using wooden dowels reinforced with a metal core if some molten metal could be obtained. If not, she also showed her a way to accomplish the same feat using just wood. Not as sturdy, but very strong just the same.

Cera-la offered her advice, and Janice gratefully accepted, as it came from years of experience with building real boats with the materials that were available here, and it wasn’t long before they’d modified her trimaran design into something that both of them found extraordinary.

“Amazing,” said Cera-la. “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to build this boat?”

“What?” said Janice. “I’m sorry -- I’m not sure I understand you. You actually want to build this?”

“I want to build more than one of them,” she said. “One, at first, to see how it sails, and rows too. Then we improve it.”

“The -- the honor would be mine!” said Janice enthusiastically. “If I may be allowed the honor of helping, in any way I can. I want to learn from you. It’s important. I’m … not very strong yet. I need to grow stronger again, so I can do what I have to do when the time is right.”

“Yes, you are still recovering from the effects of the ‘baby brew,’” observed Cera-la. “As I understand it, you will be back to your original age in a few more weeks. But until then, it is like you are still growing up.”

“Yes, so I think I’m learning fast, and if I get a lot of exercise I will have strength I never knew before -- strength I’m likely to need.”

“I understand,” said Cera-la. “You wish to return to your world. And it is right and proper that you do so, for although you are welcome here, it is true that you will always be an outsider. I understand and believe you are trying to do the honorable thing in the situation the gods have put you in. But I can choose to help, and if I learn how to make better boats in the process … so much the better, eh?” She smiled.

“Well, I can’t speak for the gods, of course,” said Janice, “but I certainly won’t say no. I think we have a deal!”

Jay, Sam and Joe were enjoying the juice and candies when Janice and Cera-la got up and headed for the door. “Come on,” said Janice in English, “Cera-la’s going to give us a tour of their shipyard. We’ll see how the real pros build boats around here.” In the native language she said, bowing to Tama-oe, “Thank you very kindly for the refreshments. I hope I can repay your kindness threefold one day.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure,” Tama-oe said. “Please come and visit again!”

Cera-la showed them the area of the cove where boats were built, bringing trees that had been specially cultivated in an area of the jungle for generations and cutting and forming the wood into the pieces they needed. Very little was wasted; she showed them the small model boats they made from scraps of wood that served as both teaching tools for apprentice shipbuilders and, once they were completed, toys for children. In fact, several children were playing in the water some distance away, racing their small boats to see whose would first make it to a stick they had designated the finish line.

“We will first make one of these,” said Cera-la, “as a model for our new boat. Then we can see if it needs any large changes before we start the big one. Now, over here, Korera is setting these cut pieces to dry in the sun, while Unue-ha is warping these thinner pieces in molds after soaking them in water, so they will dry curved …” The tour went on, and they all now had a much clearer idea of the process that was involved in making one of the boats. It took a lot of work and was much more involved than any of them had originally thought, except perhaps for Janice.

As Janice and the others were offered a hut for the night so they wouldn’t have to traverse the thick jungle in the dark, Janice noticed the tree above the hut had … some kind of weird … corona about it. She stood and looked at it for several minutes until Jay came up to her and stood beside her.

Jay asked, “Is … there something wrong, Janice?”

Janice replied, “It … it’s moving.” She pointed to the tree whose leaves were gently rustling.

Jay laughed, “Trees do that in the breeze, Janice. Happens all over the world.”

Janice turned and said sharply, “Don’t be an idiot.”

Jay’s eyes get large in surprise as he responds, “What do you mean? You’re the one who’s been acting fool today. From what Dawn tells me, you’ve taken up talking to cats too. That’s pretty fool if you ask me.”

Janice replied, “There’s no wind, Jay. Not a single breath of it.”

Jay stops talking and looks around. Sure enough, the tree over the hut they had been given for the night seemed to be gently moving in a breeze. There was no breeze of any kind as the hot, humid tropical air hung heavily.

Jay said softly, “You know, you’re right. Not a breeze stirring.” He cocks his head and looks at the tree more closely, “If I didn’t know better, I would think … it was glowing or something too. Must be an optical illusion because the sun is setting.”

Janice looked around, The sun was now hidden behind the large mountain off to the west. She knew, there was no reflections that would account for what she was seeing.

If this was a message … what did it mean? Was it for her or for someone else? She just didn’t know.



Meanwhile, back in the village of Siola, the rest of them had been helping clean up after the festival when one of them realized … “Where’s Paulette?” asked Torrie. They had taken to calling the little girl by a new name, since calling her Paul was causing them confusion. But now the former businessman was nowhere to be found.

“Have you seen her?” Dawn asked Ooma-nu, but the elder hadn’t seen her since the festival. Diane asked Oe-kwon, but she hadn’t seen the girl either. Jean and Sam started looking in every hut, and soon the entire village was looking for her.

Off in the jungle, near one of the large totem trees, Paulette sat and cried her heart out. She didn’t want to remain a baby for the rest of her life. In her heart, she was truly sorry she had violated the island’s taboo … and wished she could get a reprieve.

Paulette suddenly hears a sing song voice behind her and … up slightly. She turns and sees one of the predatory cats sitting on a low limb just behind her. Fear ran through the baby’s heart as she knew this cat was a meat eater.

The cat seemed to say soothingly, “Don’t be afraid, little one. We have watched over you and those we brought here since your arrival. Did you think yourself just lucky that food appeared for you before your friends found you?”

Paulette stopped whimpering as she looked the cat over. It was medium sized, and very beautiful. It swished its tail in a curling and uncurling way as it wiggled its ears.

Paulette said, “I wanna grow back up.” then poked out her bottom lip in an adorable pout.”

The cat nodded and said softly in its sing song voice, “And so you shall, but as a girl. Your friends are here. Remember to honor us … and we will take care of you. This is a promise of our people … to yours.”

Ooma-nu, and several of the other warrior priestesses showed up at the base of the tree about that time. The cat stood on all fours and flipped its tail at Ooma-nu, before vanishing silently into the thick jungle.

“Mister Kitty say I gonna grow up an’ be a big girl!” said Paulette to Ooma-nu in a happy voice. Then she blinked and said, “What am I saying? I don’t want to be a woman! I want to be the way I was! I want to go back to my job at … at … I can’t think now! They did something to my brain! I am Paul Mayers! I am … I am kinda hungwy an’ my diaper is wet, where is my mama? I … no! I can’t live like this!” The little girl started to wail and cry desperately.

“Now, now, just be calm, child, and come here,” said Ooma-nu, kneeling down and holding her arms open. “Come on.” The girl was crying so hard she could barely move, but she slowly waddled into the elder’s arms. Ooma-nu picked her up and held her, patting her back. “There, now. It’ll be all right. You’ll see. Let me tell you a story.”

“Many years ago, before the big war even, there was a flying machine, flying through the sky. Something was wrong with it, though, and the people flying it weren’t where they thought they were. The flying machine flew too low and went into the sea. People from this island saw it and got in their boats and went out to see if they could rescue anyone, and they found two people, a man and a woman, and brought them here. They were badly wounded.”

“But the gods smiled on them and granted them new life. They still live here, though they’ve gone through the rebirth more than once now. They have a hut in the village of Yukuma, in the deep jungle. You can meet them if you want to.”

“But I wanna gets my old life back!” the tiny girl sniffled. “I didn’t get hurted! I jus’ went into the wrong parta the jungle.”

“But you were in a flying machine, and you did fall from the sky,” said Ooma-nu. “Maybe you should talk to Amelia and Fred. It might be good.”



Janice sat on her mat and looked out the hut’s small door. The soft glow from the tree above illuminated the hut like a small nightlight, providing a warm and comfortable glow. Neither Joe, Jay, nor Sam seemed to notice the soft rustling whispers all around.

Janice could almost hear a soft, pleasant voice as it sang sweetly in the night. After trying desperately to sleep, Janice left the hut and yelled, “Speak, so I can understand you, darn it. This mysterious stuff is driving me nuts!”

Joe and Sam awoke with a start. They heard Janice’s loud voice and hoped nothing was happening to her. They both got up from the comfortable mats and went to the door and peered out. They could plainly see Janice standing with her hands on her hips a short distance from them.

To the amazement of all, they heard a soft, musical voice reply, “How can we plainly speak, when the ears that hear have no volume?” Another piped up that was obviously different, “Or, can eyes that are blind see the object directly ahead?”

Janice gasped. Something had actually answered her. She had no clue what to say.
After a few minutes of stunned silence, she asked, “What is it you want of me?”

A rustling soft laugh, “To return home to us my love. Nothing more.”

Janice replied in surprise, “Return … home? I’ve never been here before in my life!”

The voice said as it softly faded into the sounds of rustling leaves, “Have you not? And in what lifetime, my love.”

Janice was totally mind blown. Sam and Joe stood in the doorway with their mouths open in total shock. Apparently, there was more to Janice than even she was aware of.



“She won’t eat, and she cries a lot,” said Oe-kwon. “I’ve seen this before, but not recently. Those who have been cursed but … stay human often have trouble accepting the gods’ judgement.”

“But … there’s nothing that can be done for her,” said Diane. “She’s got to accept that things are going to be different now.”

“And it could be lots worse,” said Jean. “She could’ve been turned into a tarantula or a shrub or something, but instead she’s an adorable little girl! If she were happy everyone would just love her!”

“Well, some of us got changed against our will,” said Dawn, “and it was scary and confusing at first. And we’re the ones who grew back up. Imagine if we hadn’t?” She looked at Diane, who shivered a bit and nodded back. By this time they all looked like they were teenagers, so they weren’t exactly grown back up all the way, but that was a long way from Paulette’s age.

“I’m hoping to take them to see some others who used to be outsiders,” said Ooma-nu. “They also had to accept new lives. Maybe talking to them might help her. Besides … I think she got a promise from the gods that she could grow up again someday -- female, though, of course.”

“There are others like us on the island?” asked Sam. “I never knew that.”

“They’ve been here much longer, and by now they’re just as much natives here as we are,” said Ooma-nu. “Still, one of them is male and doesn’t live with the other men. That’s unusual -- though not completely unheard of. There are a few other married couples.”

“I want to go see them too!” said Torrie. “I want to meet them.”

“Well, I think we should send someone to ask them first, to make sure they’re warned that all these visitors are about to appear at their door,” Ooma-nu chuckled. “But I’m sure it will be fine.”



Janice stood transfixed to the ground. The soft glow of the tree faded slowly, leaving her standing in the darkness with just the moon above providing light.

Several of the villagers walked slowly up to her and asked in awe, “Do … do the gods speak to you … often?”

Joe and Dennis came from the hut and went to Janice. Joe asked her, “Are … you alright, Janice? I don’t think I ever heard of someone talking to a tree before.”

Jay commented, “A Tree Cat, maybe, but not the trees.”

One of the elder women from the village placed a hand on Janice’s shoulder as she said softly, “Perhaps … you should come and speak with the head priestess. It has been a good many long years since someone has been able to get the gods to directly speak with them.

There is a murmur of voices all around. Janice comes back to herself and realizes, many of the villagers were there.

Jay said, “Janice? Are you OK? You look like you are feeling ill. Your face is … all white and seems to glow.”

Another murmur from the villagers in agreement with Jay.

An elder walked up about that time, wearing a woven robe with threads of many colors and long necklaces made of strung-together shells. She said softly, “Please, people, return to your huts. I’m quite sure this young woman is in shock right now. Think how you would feel if the gods suddenly took notice of you.”

Jay asked the elder, “Are you --?”

“The head priestess of Kukol Village, yes, that’s what they call me. My name is Ue-halo. And if I can help your friend, that’s what I’m here to do.” The woman’s voice was soft and soothing, and her smile was kindly.

“Well I think what she needs is --” Jay began.

“What I could really use are some answers,” Janice interrupted. “What’s happening to me? And why me?”

“I don’t know if I have answers for you,” said Ue-halo, “but let’s go inside, out of the night, and sit down. Maybe I have answers and maybe not, but let’s find out. At the very least, maybe I can help you find the answers you seek.”

They went inside and sat down, Janice on the mat she’d been trying to sleep on, the priestess on one of the woven chairs that seemed popular on this island. “So … what exactly is happening to you?” Ue-halo asked. “What have you seen? What have you heard?”

“I don’t know if it’s important --”

“Just tell me what you remember. What you think is important matters not. But if it stands out in your memory … you must feel that it is important. And that matters. Now, begin.”

Janice told her of the sudden bad weather, the plane crash, the initial scouting of the island, their encounter with Oe-kwon, Paul’s stubbornness and curse, her trip to look for the old Japanese base, her encounter with … something in the jungle that led her to find the map case, the visit of the cat, the sunlight through the trees that had awakened her the next morning, and of course this night’s strange conversation.

“Why do you mention the morning sunlight?” asked Ue-halo. “Was there something strange about it?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “It was just … sunlight, broken up into speckles as it passed through the trees, swaying in the breeze … wait ...”

“Yes?”

Janice blinked. “There was no breeze. It was a very quiet, still morning. And not all the trees were moving -- only some of them.”

“Ah, I thought so,” the priestess said. “We call this the eng-moeng, the wind without wind, when the trees are singing to each other.”

“What does it mean?” asked Janice.

“The gods are awake,” Ue-halo said, “or so they say. They sleep, they wake, no one knows when or why. But to speak, directly rather than in dreams … that has not happened since the old stories.”

“Why would they speak to me,” asked Janice, “an outsider? Why not to a priestess, or even just a native of this island?”

“Perhaps you are not as much outsiders as you think, any of you,” the priestess said. “You did, after all, grow up here. A second time, perhaps, but still.”

“I don’t know …” Janice hesitated.

“Neither do I, in truth,” Ue-halo admitted. “Now, you were flying over the sea near this island, in one of your people’s flying machines, before a storm came -- where were you going? It must have been very important, to be going so fast, so high.”

“Well, the plane was on its way from Honolulu to Sydney with stops at Fiji and New Caledonia …”

“Ah, now Honolulu and Fiji I have heard of,” said the priestess. “New Caledonia, that is the island where Noumea is, correct? Big city.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Janice said. “It’s a big island. Have you ever been to those places?”

“No,” Ue-halo said. “But when I was younger I visited other islands and spoke to people who had been to them. I know it’s a big world. Where were you going, and what were you going to do there?”

“I was, well, going to Sydney, on vacation,” said Janice.

“I feel as if you were going to tell me more, but stopped.”

“Well … there are things that I am not supposed to tell anyone,” Janice said. “But I will tell you that the Sydney-vacation story isn’t true.”

“You weren’t going to this Sydney, or you weren’t going on vacation there?”

“Neither one,” Janice said. “I was going to get off the plane before that, obviously. I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you any more than that.”

“Well, as it turned out, you did get off the plane before that,” said Ue-halo, smiling gently. “And you and your companions found your way to this island -- on the inhospitable, uninhabited side of it.”

“Yes, and it’s quite possible that some very bad things would have happened, if it weren’t for Oe-kwon,” Janice said.

“It’s lucky -- if luck is the right word -- that the village of priestesses is the closest one to that part of the island,” Ue-halo said.

“Village of priestesses?”

“Everyone in Siola is a priestess,” Ue-halo said. “Didn’t you know? It lies so close to the holy ground of the gods that those who feel that the gods have called them to be priestesses go there to commune with them. I lived there for many years until word came that this village’s priestess was nearing her time. She went through the renewal ritual and started a new cycle of life, and I came here.”

In Siola, Paul had become very sullen and withdrawn. He most definitely didn’t want to have to grow back up as a girl. She shivered as she thought about the boys asking her on dates. Perhaps she could establish herself as a lesbian or something. Even this thought made her more depressed.

Dawn finally said with exasperation, “Paulette, you are coming with me to visit some people I think you will find very interesting.” She picks up the infant Paulette, “I think you will find you’re more female now than you think.”

She carries Paulette out of the hut into the small group of people standing in front of it.

Oe-Kwan said softly, “Our runner has returned and Amelia and Fred would be delighted to have you as guests overnight. It will be dark by the time you visit for a bit.”

Dawn, Dennis, and Diane had all decided to go with Paulette -- Dawn and Diane because they’d been regressed without their prior knowledge, and Dennis because he’d been regressed for healing, the likelihood being that he’d have died otherwise. They made their way to the village of Yukuma, following the trails that had been used every day by generations of islanders.

When they arrived, their shadows were indeed growing long, and the village’s cooking fires were burning bright. “Oh, hello,” said one of the villagers, noticing them as they approached. “You must be the visitors that I heard were going to come here from Siola. Come, sit down -- it is not a short journey. Supper is soon. I will tell them you are here.” She left them in the village center, where others were also gathering for supper.

Dawn said to Dennis, “Do you know who these two people are?”

Dennis shrugged his shoulders and replied, “It might not be so much who they were … but who they have become.”

Dianne asked, “What do you mean by that?”

Dennis replied, “Think about it. Look what happened to me -- to all of us. They told us they were injured and dying, and they put them through the renewal ritual to heal them.”

As they discussed this thought, a young freckled faced girl and a young man about the same age approached.

The girl walked up to Paulette and tweaked her cheeks gently, “Well, hello there cutie pie. You are one adorable little girl.”

Paulette screeched in frustration, “I no wanna bea girl!! Amma man. Gotsa job … friens … stuffies.”

The young man laughed as he said softly, “Perhaps life is better this way?”

Paulette crosses her arms, “Nopes, is worser.” Then pokes out her bottom lip adorably.”

The young woman says, “Allow me to introduce myself, “She pauses for a moment, “My name was Fred Noonan,” she indicated the young man with her hand, “And his name was Amelia Earhart.”

Dawn and Dianne gasp in surprise as Dennis’ mouth fell open.

The girl smiles, “It’s true. We crash landed and were very badly hurt. The islanders fishing there saw our plane go down and came to investigate.”

The young man said, “They brought us here and gave us some sweet tasting medicine. Said it would heal us. We became infants.”

The girl said, “Somewhere along the way, as we grew up, we discovered who we used to be, and the fact we had changed sexes.”

“If it weren’t for the pilot’s and navigator's logs we had kept, we would have never realized who we used to be … or what happened to us.” The young man said.

Paulette had quit whimpering as she looked from one individual to the other.

The girl said, “I call myself Lau-nu now.” She pointed to the man and continued, “He is named Meru-ar.”

“But … your lives … people who care about you …” said Dawn. “They are still looking for you, you know -- trying to find out what happened.”

“I couldn’t tell them anything,” said Meru-ar. “I don’t remember it at all. All I know is what they told me about the day they rescued us and our charts and logs.”

“Oh, I’ll bet Janice would want to look at your charts,” Diane said. “She’s determined to get us home.”

“We’ll help, if we can,” said Lau-nu. “She’s welcome to see them.”

“But but but,” sputtered Paulette, “ams you da same peoples? What happen to to who you was afore?”

“I think she means,” said Dennis, “who you are inside, are you --?”

“Well it’s hard to say exactly,” said Meru-ar, “but I’ll tell you one thing. Before we ever found out who we were, before we ever figured out how to read the logs, which were in a language we didn’t know, I gained a reputation for being an explorer. I went all over the island making maps. There wasn’t a single tree or boulder that I didn’t recognize. I still do it -- I have the most complete maps of this island that anyone has ever made. Now there’s this person named Amelia Earhart who I used to be, and from what I can tell she was quite the explorer too. So you tell me -- is the core of our being, our personality, the same or different?”

Paulette looked at the young man and the young woman with different eyes. Dawn and Diane noticed that Paulette had stopped whining and whimpering.

Paulette asked, “Howdja feels when ya relizded that u useta b no only sommon elses … but diffrent ?”

Meru-ar laughed, “I … really didn’t have any feelings one way or the other. I am who I am … and I really like it.”

Lau-nu spoke up and said, “If I had more memories of our previous life, I’m sure I would have more emotions over the whole thing. I sort of enjoy …” she snuggled up to Meru-ar and wrapped her arms around him, “the way things are right now.”

The both of them kissed softly as the still early teen girls giggled and twittered.

Dianne said, “It would seem, the 2 of you have made a good life for yourselves here.”

Meru-ar smiled as he said, “I am the chart maker for this island. If someone wants a map, they come to me. I’m not real sure who, or what their gods are, but I do know they have watched over and guided me through all my explorations. I have discovered many places with many good resources that have helped improve this island and it peoples over the years.”
Lau-nu giggled, “Besides, if we went back to the states now, what would we tell them? How would we convince them we are who we say we are? I also like the fact that on Infant Island, we don’t age but to a certain point, before the islanders make us recycle again.”

Meru-ar said, “If you want those old charts and logs, I have copies of them that are in great shape I will give to you. Who was it? Janice? I think she will find it would be far simpler to forget the old life and just stay here. Life is good, there’s plenty of friendship, and the food’s great.”

They all laughed … except Paulette. The baby girl looked thoughtful.


Meanwhile in Kukol, work began on the prototype for Janice’s trimaran. Cera-la showed Janice how to work with their tools on the small scraps from real boats, and she busily carved out pieces that were the same as those that would make up her boat, but scaled down to toy size. The apprentice boat builders came to watch sometimes, and now and then Cera-la would come by and either praise Janice on her work or give her pointers about some detail or another. Also, as Janice sat in the shade of a palm tree’s broad leaves, Ue-halo sometimes came by and had a conversation with her.

“You are still going to do it,” said the priestess. “Braving the ocean to return to your world.”

“I’m not the sort who gives up,” Janice said. “There are things I have to do -- and the others are counting on me.”

“You are an exceptional person. Of course, only time can say where your destiny will take you. What happens if your destiny is here?”

“It may be, and it may not be,” said Janice, “but even if my path is meant to lead to this island, it wouldn’t be fair to assume that everyone else’s does too. Besides, even if I leave this place, to get the others back home and to do … the other things I have to do … there’s nothing that says I can’t come back.”

That evening, Janice was putting her work away in a woven hamper and carrying it back to the hut where she and the others were staying when a visitor arrived. “Hello, Janice,” said a familiar voice. “I hope things are well.”

“Ooma-nu!” said Janice. “It’s good to see you! How is everyone?”

The old storyteller told her how Dawn, Diane, Dennis, and Paulette had gone to Yuruma to talk to some others from the outside world -- without filling her in on the identities of these settlers for the moment.

“Torrie and Jean are doing well -- they’ve been studying with the herbalists; they both seem very interested in our potions and salves. How are Joe, Sam, and Jay?”

“Well, I was about to see them,” Janice said, picking up the hamper and starting toward the hut, “so you can see for yourself. But they’re doing all right -- I think they’re both bored and mystified.”

“You mean, with your experiences?” asked Ooma-nu. “Ue-halo sent word. Quite mysterious.” Joe greeted them as they approached the hut, and Ooma-nu waved back.

“Goodness, it’s a long way for you to come,” said Sam, “especially for someone …”

“... of my age, yes?” Ooma-nu finished with a smile. “I’m not all that old really -- and I’ve been going up and down that trail since I was a little girl. Several times.”

“Well, it’s up to you, of course,” said Jay, “and we’re glad to see you anyway. Did you come because of Janice’s … encounter?”

“Partly,” said Ooma-nu, “but also because I remembered another story -- not that I had forgotten it, but I realized that it might be important.”

“Well, let’s have some supper, and you can tell us,” Sam said, stirring a pot full of stew. And, once they had all had their first helpings, Ooma-nu began.

“This story is fairly recent,” Ooma-nu said. “I was a young woman then, and I lived here in Kukol at the time. That’s why I remember it so well. But it was a stormy day, and a strange boat washed up on shore -- it was made of metal and glass and strange materials that we don’t have here, not wood. There were three men on board, two of them the servants of the third. The important one did not speak our language, but one of his servants knew a language that was similar to ours, as Janice did before you all learned to speak our tongue.”

“They explained that they were from a nation called Kandavu, made up of many islands, and that their master was what they called an admiral who ruled all the ships of that nation. They had been separated from their great ship, which they said was bigger than the village, during the sudden storm, and their small boat had been damaged. They did not know where they were.”

“We gave them food and offered to help repair their boat, but our builders did not know much about how to make it go, as it had neither oars nor sails. The three of them talked and argued and tried many things, and although the boat often looked as if it was going to move again, it did not yet.”

“Then it came time for the renewal ritual. Boats gathered from the islands around, and people ready for the ritual arrived to take part. As always it was a joyous time, and we invited the three strangers to watch, feast, and celebrate. They came to Siola and did just that, as their boat was still not working.”

“When they saw the ritual, they were amazed and spoke in quite animated words. The one who knew our language said that they had never seen anything like it before and that there were those who would give much wealth in order to undergo the renewal. But this was a strange concept to us: the renewal is a gift from the gods and cannot be sold or bought as if it were a coconut.”

They passed around a large cup of wonderfully flavored fruit drink for all to enjoy.

After taking a drink, Ooma-nu continued, “After the ritual, as people left for other islands, the three men finally got their boat working and left the island. We gave him a necklace made of berries and dried seed pods to remember us by. It was a very special necklace too. The leader of the three, the ‘admiral,’ said that he would come back one day and add this island to his nation. But we have never seen him again.”

Looking at Janice, Ooma-nu said, “His name was Namarati.”

“Namarati,” Janice said. “Hmm … I believe he is now the ruler of Kandavu. He took over 20 years ago or so. I seem to recall a news story where he was thought lost at sea in a story but returned -- this could well be the same man …”

“You know a lot about him,” Ooma-nu said.

“Only what I read in the news,” said Janice.

“I believe that the gods have protected this island,” said Ooma-nu. “If he has sent ships to look for it, the gods make sure they do not find it.”

“I don’t recall ever hearing about him trying to find some island,” Janice said. “That’s not among the stories I know about him.”

“So you know other stories about him?” Ooma-nu asked.

“I … have heard other things,” answered Janice, hesitating. “He had a lot of his opponents put to death when he came to power. He is quite ruthless. Kandavu has some large islands, and the big nations of the world want to keep their soldiers and ships and flying machines there.” It was difficult to put some of these concepts into the island’s language. “And he is trying to get the big nations to give him lots of money -- not money for his country, just money for himself. And meanwhile, the people of his nation just get poorer and poorer. They’re starving. There are some who say that they are going to rise up and throw him out, but others say that if that happens, there could be a big war.”

“He’d be getting pretty old by now,” said Ooma-nu.

“He’s not showing any signs of aging or slowing down,” Janice commented.

“The big war could be avoided, though, if he stepped down,” Ooma-nu said, “or disappeared … or died.”

Janice gasped. “Ooma-nu! Are you suggesting that he should die?” she asked.

“I’m just saying that sometimes, one person can cause a great deal of trouble -- or a great deal of good,” said Ooma-nu.

That night, Janice’s dreams were full of dark whispering voices just on the fringe of her awareness. She tossed and turned until Torrie, who had come to visit and see the new ship design going together, came and sat next to her on her sleeping pad.

Torrie asked softly, “Janice? Are you OK?”

Janice opened her eyes as her body stiffened. She was aware that Torrie was sitting next to her and running her hand through her hair. She was also aware that someone else was there in the room. Janice sat up slowly and smiled at Torrie as she looked around the hut.

The early glow of dawn could be seen turning the eastern sky beautiful colors.

Janice said softly, “Can you … feel something out of place?”

Torrie looked around the hut in the dim light. To her, nothing seemed out of place. Suddenly, a tree cat dropped silently from the rafters. It had a small leather pouch in its mouth. Torrie gasped in fear.

Janice laid a calm hand on her leg, “Relax, I don’t think it came to do us harm.”

The cat laid the pouch on the pad between Torrie and Janice, then with a flick of its strong muscles, silently left the hut the way it came.

Torrie looked at the roof with her mouth open in surprise. She commented, “So, it’s true. You do talk with trees and animals.”

Janice picked up the pouch and opened it. Within, were several sheets of yellowed and aged paper along with a newspaper article. When Janice read it, her mouth fell open as it told the story from western views that Ooma-nu had basically told her. Apparently, all the scholars thought Namarati was suffering from the stress of being on the open ocean for many weeks and discounted his wild stories of the Fountain of Youth.

“‘Admiral’s survival a mystery,’” Torrie read when Janice let her see the old clipping. “How … why is this even on this island, let alone in the hands -- err, paws -- of a tree cat?”

“We can ask someone,” Janice replied, “but I doubt they’ll have any answers. There’s a lot of ‘those who know don’t say and those who say don’t know’ around here. Someone from another island probably brought it when they came to trade.”

“This place is weird,” said Torrie. “I want to go home.”

“Working on that,” said Janice. “We’re gonna build a boat. Gonna sail it to a nearby island once we get our bearings, see if it has an airstrip or some kind of communications -- maybe a cell phone tower -- and if not, we’ll try another island. But it’ll take a lot of us working together. Luckily at least most of us, if not all, want to get back to civilization.”

“I’m with you, definitely,” Torrie said. “Jean is up in Siola learning about how they make their potions. I think she wants to know how to turn people into babies … or maybe herself, I’m not sure. Everyone else who isn’t here went to another village called Yuruma to talk to some people named Fred and Amelia -- supposed to be survivors from a crash or something, a long time ago. So basically I had nothing to do, so anything you need me to help with, just ask.”

“There’s no shortage of work to be done,” Janice said. “Let’s talk about it over breakfast. Now, I have a swim in the ocean every morning -- helps me build up my muscles. You might want to join me. Anyone who’s coming along should be a strong swimmer … just in case.”

Janice had also gotten Joe, Jay and Sam into the habit of going for an early morning swim in the ocean -- actually, many of the island people did the same. Swimming out past the shelter of the cove allowed them to swim in the raw, powerful waves of the ocean, and some of the natives had handmade surfboards that they carried out even further, to ride the waves back in. The islanders cautioned them not to swim alone and preferably to go in groups -- sharks and orcas were not unknown in these waters, but they were less likely to attack groups of humans, especially humans who knew how to fight back, as most in these waters did.

This morning, Janice tried her hand at spearfishing and learned quickly how the natives did it, ending up with two large fish that would make a good lunch for them all later.

After Janice and Torrie had cleaned the fish and cleaned themselves up, they went to visit Ooma-nu. Janice had brought the leather pouch along to ask about. When she showed Ooma-nu he pouch, her eyes became large and her mouth fell open in surprise.

Ooma-nu asked with wonder in her voice, “Where on this island did you find that? I thought it was lost long ago.”

Janice showed a bit of surprise, “So, you know about this then?”

Ooma-nu laughed, “Of course, don’t be silly. That’s the mail pouch we used for sending news from island to island. Once, many years ago, a storm hit just before the boat arrived. No one was injured when the boat capsized, but all its contents were lost to the ocean. How did you come by it?”

Torrie spoke up and said, “A tree cat delivered it to us last night.”

Ooma-nu showed concern in her old features, “You say, a tree cat brought this to you?”

Torrie nodded her head vigorously as Janice frowned at her, “Yes, it just dropped from the roof and laid it at our feet before it left.”

Ooma-nu said softly as she looked through the pouch’s contents, “I think, you have a destiny here with us, child. It has been almost … 45 years since someone has had the gods take this much interest in them.”

Torrie asked brightly, “Who was the last one?”

Ooma-nu didn’t answer right away as she read the contents of the pouch. She looked up and said even more softly, “It was … me. They told me of your coming. And of … what you must do before you leave the island.”

Janice was astounded, “So, you knew we were coming and who we were?”

Ooma-nu said as she patted Janice on the head softly, “No, child, you … I knew you, were coming. I also know, you have to take a pilgrimage to the top of the great mountain before you leave. There’s … something there you must see to believe.”

Janice watched with big eyes as Ooma-nu turned, and quickly left with the leather pouch in her hand.

Torrie asked, “What is it up there, you think?”

Janice shook her head as she said with wonder in her voice, “I really haven’t a clue.”

“Lunch?” asked Sam, who had been frying up the fish.

Over lunch Janice explained the list of materials they would need for the trimaran. They would need a lot of canvas-like cloth for the sails, and fortunately the islanders knew how to make it, but again, although they were generous to a fault, it was best to be good guests, so Torrie volunteered to learn how to make cloth from tree bark like the natives did -- the survivors would get some, and the islanders would get some too. Sam had been learning to cook with the natives’ techniques and tools.

Janice asked Joe and Jay to try to collect the others. “The more of us are here working on the boat, the faster it’ll be done,” she said. “Jean’s still in Siola, and the rest are in Yuruma talking to some other survivors called Fred and Amelia -- wait a minute. It can’t be … no, I’m sure it is. Nothing on this island surprises me anymore. OK, actually maybe I should go. I’m told that I need to go on a pilgrimage to the highest peak on the island … that Yuruma village is on the way there. I’m going to finish my prototype today, and I’ll go tomorrow.”

True to her word, Janice finished the prototype boat that afternoon. Cera-la watched her assemble it and gave her pointers as usual, and then they floated it in the water of the cove for the first time. Janice carefully trimmed the sails and set the rudder in a number of configurations and watched how the toy boat performed with the breeze blowing it along. Cera-la watched too and, interested, made numerous comments about how one instability or another meant the final boat would have to be modified slightly. The islanders had more of a grasp of engineering than one would perhaps have expected from what some would call a “primitive” people, but Janice knew that they were no different from any other humans anywhere else … except perhaps for one important fact, and that fact, whatever it was, was probably on top of the island’s highest peak. She looked up at it, protruding above the jungles into the sunlight in the distance. What waited for her there?

That night Janice dreamed … if it was a dream. Mercifully no one else woke up and came to watch her talking to a cat or a tree. There was just the breeze and the stars -- somehow she had gotten outside -- but above her, as she watched, the stars spread out like seeds sprouting, growing roots and vines, intertwining in the sky but still glowing, leaving a voice echoing in her mind that said something like, “Soon we will meet … again.” When she awoke, she was back in the hut. Had this one been an actual dream and not a visitation? Was there a difference?

Janice arose early in the morning. She didn’t sleep well as her dreams were once again filled with visions and whispers just out of reach of her understanding. There was one overriding thought in her head. It was something that was said in her … dream? ‘Soon, we will meet … again.’

As Janice gathered her supplies for the long Pilgrimage to the top of the Holy Mountain, Ooma-nu entered the hut. She said softly, “It’s time for you to do the passage ritual and cleanse your soul.”

Several women entered dressed completely in black. At the last, Ue-halo entered, dressed totally in white leather of some sort. She was adorned with jewelry and trappings, multicolored feathers, and seed pods from a plant Janice was unfamiliar with.

They made Janice take off all her clothes, kneel before Ue-halo, then covered her body completely with a sweet smelling ointment as the women in black chanted in some strange language Janice had never heard used on the island before.

Finally, the ceremony was completed, and Janice was given an outfit made of some kind of royal blue fabric. Once she was dressed, Ue-halo placed a necklace around her neck that held a gemstone that was the most beautiful blue Janice had ever seen.

Ue-halo said softly as she handed Janice a large pottle of water made from an animal’s stomach, “With this go forth to the home of the gods in peace. May you find the answer to your dreams.”

With this, all the women turned with Ue-halo in the lead and left, leaving Janice standing totally amazed and bewildered at this new ritual she had never seen performed before.

As Janice was leaving the village for Yuruma, she did notice Cera-la and her crew were rapidly laying out the materials, and starting construction of the spine and rib base for the new Tri-hull vessel.


Janice walked the trail to Yuruma, expecting her flowing blue robes would catch on every briar, thorn and branch in the jungle, but to her surprise no such thing happened -- it was as if the foliage parted to let her pass. It was only a little more than an hour before she got to Yuruma, rather than the two hours she’d thought it would take.

As she walked into the village, the islanders saw her and stepped aside, bowing respectfully. “Honor to the pilgrim,” some of them said.

Then she saw Dawn, who was apparently still visiting Yuruma, and Dawn saw her. “J-janice?” Dawn said, looking bewildered at how the natives were reacting. “It’s good to see you -- why are you dressed like that? Pilgrim? What does that mean?”

“It means there is something I have to do before we can leave the island,” she told Dawn. Dennis and Diane came out of a hut, carrying Paulette, and listened. “The gods require it, or that’s what Ooma-nu tells me.”

“Then we must not keep you,” said a woman, coming out of another hut next to a man.

“No, wait,” said Janice. “I think what you have to tell me might be important -- or show me, perhaps.”

“I think I know what you mean,” said the man. “Be right back.” He ducked back into the hut.

Diane explained about who Lau-nu and Meru-ar were, and Janice nodded. “I suspected as much, though I would have been thrown by their opposite sexes.” Meru-ar came back out carrying a rolled-up bundle of yellowed paper.

“I think this is what you should see,” said Meru-ar. “I’ve made these maps of the island,” he said, separating one roll, “but the ones who saved us salvaged these from the plane.” He unrolled the charts carefully. “This is the position of the plane when we went down in it.”

“But that’s -- not possible,” said Janice. “The Japanese maps put the island between Kosrae and Pohnpei … these put it southwest of Baker and Howland Islands. Those two locations are over 1500 miles apart! The whole Marshall Islands are in between them. But … this location is much closer to where our plane was when we went down. But … the language is like what they speak on Kosrae, or close enough …”

“Confusing, isn’t it?” Lau-nu said. “Maybe you can understand how I felt. I was the navigator, after all. How could I have gotten it that wrong?”

“More mysteries,” said Janice. “So … the island moves. Or something. And it’s moved at least … three times between two different locations, if not more. How does that happen?”

“If you find out, let us know,” said Meru-ar. “This place is full of mysteries. If there’s magic in the world, this is where.”

“Maybe I’ll ask. Thank you for showing me your maps,” said Janice.

Meru-ar bowed. “Honor to the pilgrim,” he said. Lau-nu did likewise.

“Well, I should be moving on,” said Janice. “I have no supplies and must make it to the mountain by sundown, or it’ll be too dark to find the way.”

“Good luck,” said Dawn. “I … want to hug you but I’ve noticed no one is touching you.”

“It’s probably the ritual purification,” Janice said. “I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”

Janice left on the trail to Siola, farther up, but she’d been told that there was a place to turn off -- a totem by a spring. And she found it -- as the trail went by a rocky outcropping where a rivulet of water sprung from a crevice and trickled down into a pool, she saw a large intricately-carved tree trunk, with painted images of faces, vines and animals. She turned left and looked for a trail, but didn’t see one -- until the foliage quite visibly pulled away to reveal it.

“You must really want to talk,” she said. “Here goes.”

The trail continued to reveal itself before her and close up behind her as she climbed higher and higher, until she reached what she knew was the flat rock face she’d been able to see from Kukol. It looked much bigger from here. It looked as if there was an easy trail up and around it to the right -- but when she stepped that way, vines and brush seemed to rise up to block her way. She went the other way, which looked more difficult but didn’t lead to any vegetative resistance, and found that it was actually quite an easy ascent, leading around the rocks and upward. Soon she could see that the other direction led to a sheer drop. “Appearances are deceiving,” she said.

Climbing up between several large boulders, she came to a flat grassy area -- and suddenly there was no higher place to climb to. She’d made it, and it was only evening. The sun hung low in the west, orange-red, encumbered by few clouds. Sitting on a boulder, she rested, her heart still pumping hard from the climb.

“Well … here I am,” Janice said once she’d caught her breath. “Oh -- right. They told me about this.” She lifted up the pottle of water she’d been given. “I bring this blessed offering, as a sign of respect and honor,” she said. There was supposed to be a … oh, here it was. There was a depression in the ground, where many roots seemed to grow forth, leading off in all directions. She poured the water out into this basin, soaking the roots.

At first there was nothing noticeable -- the breeze through the jungles below, the calls of birds and monkeys, the sound of twisting vines. The sound of twisting vines? There was suddenly a much louder sound of twisting vines as many vines suddenly sprung up from the ground, snaking upward then suddenly intertwining and reaching up twenty feet into the air -- fifty -- a hundred and more -- before actually leaping from the ground, separating into individual vines and leaping down into the earth again, vanishing as if they had never been, leaving only grass. But then they rose up again from the ground, weaving and braiding to form … a giant humanoid face, looking up from the grass into the sky. Then, in a voice deeper than the ocean, came the words, “You have come.” The face’s mouth moved as if to speak these words -- which Janice realized were in English.

“Yes,” Janice said, not knowing what else to say. “I’m told I’m supposed to --”

“But you have your own reasons,” said the face.

“Well -- I have so many questions, and no one seems to have answers,” Janice said, warily. She still had no idea what she was dealing with.

“Answers lead only to more questions,” the face said. Its voice was deep, but it didn’t sound angry. In fact, it sounded more patient than anyone else Janice had ever spoken to. “But, if you like, you may ask, and I/we will answer.” There was a point where suddenly it was as if the voice were many voices, and some of them said “I” while others said “we” at the same time, but the voice immediately went back to sounding like one enormous entity.

“Well … all right,” said Janice. Then she asked, “Have I been here before?”

“Yes,” the voice said. “You were not born here, but you were reborn here -- many times. Then, one day, you left here, adopted by a childless couple from the island of Butaritari. Then your family departed there for other parts of the world.”

“I don’t remember Butaritari,” said Janice. “My parents told me we used to live on an island called that, but I was too young when we left. I remember living in Hawaii. And other parts of America.”

“But now you have returned,” said the voice. “You were not born here, but you came here, like many others.”

“That explains why the people of this island have skin of all the many colors,” Janice said. “People seem to come here from all over -- but not in a flood. They come gradually, a few at a time, and some stay, while others go.”

“You are one we are glad to see again,” said the face in the grass. “But, have you no other questions?”

“Well, yes,” she said. “Who am I talking to? That is, what are you?”

“I/we have explained this to you before,” said the voice, “but that was in another lifetime. I will tell you a story.”

“I like stories,” said Janice. “Good thing, too, since people on this island know so many of them.”

“Once there was a land where both the plants and the animals became intelligent. They knew that they depended on each other. The animals fed on the plants, which did not hurt them, because the plants’ intelligence was collective, spread out among all the plants of the world. The plants, in turn, would feed on the decomposition products of the animals when death took them, as it comes to all life. There was peace and understanding.

“Until the intelligent animals began to become more and more numerous. They found ways to grow more unintelligent animals to eat, but they still needed the plants to grow faster, to feed all animals. But the plants only grew as fast as it was natural for them to grow.

“Then the intelligent animals manipulated the genetic code of the plants. They created plants that grew as the animals wanted them to. They improved crop yields and produced new, more nutritious food. But these plants were not part of the plant intelligence. They were like the unintelligent animals. And the animals started killing the natural plant life. They sprayed and burned and cut. Soon the plants knew they were in danger.

“They tried to warn the animals, but they would not listen. The animals needed their new plants now, because their populations grew bigger and bigger. But the plants had to do something, or they would die out. So they began to fight back. For the plants could also manipulate genetic codes, and weather, and earthquakes. War came to the land, more terrible than it had ever known. The animals found themselves unable to have children, only to find scientific ways to create offspring. They found themselves with new and virulent diseases, only to find cures for them. They found their modified plants dying off, only to create new varieties that lived. The plants were fighting back, but they were losing.

“Finally the plants did the only thing remaining to do. They left their home. They built a vessel that would carry them into space, traveling beyond the stars to a new home where they could live in peace. Only a few of them survived, but that was all they needed -- their intelligence had remained alive for a very, very long time and knew much about survival. Finally their vessel came to land on the world they had selected -- there were intelligent animals there too, but not many, not yet. They landed in the sea and found their way to an island, and soon the people came to that island, bringing their culture with them. It was … not a pleasant culture. The plants did what they could to reduce the misery of the people and nurtured those who had a similar viewpoint to the plants, a similar long view of the future -- these tended to be the females of this culture, but there were some males who were not short-sighted. The plants shared their abilities with these people, who did not seem to know how to do the same things.”

“So you’re … super intelligent alien plant life,” said Janice. “They think you’re gods.”

“I/We do not discourage that belief,” the voice said, “but neither do I/we encourage it.”

Janice was totally mind blown at the revelation. She looked around, everywhere she looked, was a verdant garden like area all along the flat top of the peak.

Janice asked, “What is it I am supposed to do? Why are you so interested in me?”

The deep voice said softly as she felt it rumble all through her, “It is hard to lose a child, even to something as innocent as adoption. There is a storm coming, my love. One that could well topple the world as you know it. It is up to you, to stop it in any way you can.”

Janice’s eyes get big in surprise, “Why just me?”

“You were selected long ago, before the world you know came to be. You, my love, are the ambassador of the stars to this world. For better or worse, we are here and cannot be removed by force. There is one who has been here before. He is now old and seeks to regain his youth. When he left the last time, he tried to steal the formula that makes cells young again. We did not allow him to do that and … moved to avoid the conflict.”

Janice asked, “Then why not just move again? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“It would, except the peoples of this planet now have eyes in the sky.”

“Oh,” Janice said, “You mean satellites.”

The voice replied, “Precisely. It makes the move difficult. We can conjure storms and tidal waves to cover our move, but this person will continue to seek.”

“Janice asked again, “This person wouldn’t be Namarati, would it?”

The face laughed. A deep, earth shaking mirthful one, “And so it is exactly. I see Ooma-nu still tells her stories. It is past time for her to recycle. I think the head Priestess will have … a conversation with her soon. It would be a real shame to lose such a talented story teller as she.”

“Can’t you just make her a little younger?” Janice asked.

“Yes, I/we know much about cellular regeneration,” the voice said. “For instance, if Namarati were to find his way back here, it would be possible to completely regenerate him. He would have no memory of his life before. There would be no trace of the destabilizing ruler he has made himself. And yet he would not die but start again.”

“I … see,” Janice said. “The other survivors and I want to leave the island, but … I have something to do.”

“I/We know that you were sent, put bluntly, to kill Namarati,” said the voice solemnly. “I/We, too, have killed, when necessary to survive. And there are many who will die if Namarati’s recklessness starts a war. But, as I/we have said, there is another way. If you can find him, and convince him that he will get the youth he is looking for if he returns here, I/we will make sure that you and he can find this island again.”

“He will attempt to make sure he can keep his identity and power,” said Janice. “He will make threats. He will kill before he gives up his power.”

“We live only on this island,” the voice said, “but our reach is long. We can protect ourselves.”

“No, wait,” said Janice. “There is another way.”

The voice said in a deep rustling of leaves way as it vanished, “There is no other way, my love. Either this way, or the world as you know it dies horridly.”

The vines making up the face sank quickly back into the ground, leaving Janice alone, in the dark, with a soft, mysterious glow all around.

Janice said, “How do I get back? It’s dark, and a long way back to the village.”

There is no sound but the rustling of the leaves all around. Suddenly, The hairs on the back of Janice’s head stood on end. She turns quickly around, to come face to face with her old friend, the tree cat.

Janice couldn’t believe it, but she seemed to hear a small voice. Was the cat speaking, or was it all in her mind? Janice couldn’t tell.

The voice said softly, “Follow me. I know of a secret way, that no other human, but you shall know. It has been decreed for the most high priestess.”

“I’m no priestess. That’s silly.” Janice said with incredulity obvious in her voice.

“The cat turned and looked at Janice with it’s beautiful golden eyes. With a flick of its tail it said softly, “Perhaps not in your current memory, but very soon and soon as time and times pass.”

Janice asked, “And just what does that mean?”

The cat said nothing as it wiggled its ears and began to walk off, increasing in speed until it was at a slow trot. Janice had to jog to keep up. Within in a very few minutes, Janice realized … they were in Siola.

Many people came from their huts in the cool of the early evening, and all saw Janice enter the village with a predatory tree cat as if it were her pet. The cat came up to Janice and rubbed lovingly around her legs before it gave her a nose bump with its nose, then silently vanished into the darkness of the jungle.

Many voices proclaimed, “The pilgrim has returned … it is as the prophecy said; ‘She shall speak to nature and it will reply. The wild animals shall obey her every command.’”

Another voice said loudly, “The new Most High Priestess has been anointed. Light the fires, bring out the singers. It is a time of renewal and rejoicing.”

Janice couldn’t believe what was happening as the people ran around lighting cooking fires, ceremonial torches, and dressing in their finest ceremonial costumes.

Ooma-nu walked up and said softly, “So, you have met the gods and discovered your task?”

Janice turned and looked at her, “It’s time for you to become … a child again, Ooma-nu. The gods demand it and you have been avoiding it. I didn’t realize who you are … until it told me.”

“Who … I am?” Ooma-nu gasped in surprise.

You are the keeper of knowledge among the priestesses. You cannot be lost to the … ummm … gods. They won’t allow it. Either choose to become a little girl and retain your mind, but still have to grow back up. Or they will regress you back to infancy … and reteach you the stories.”

Ooma-nu smiles as she said, “So, It’s true. The gods have anointed you most high priestess.” Ooma-nu bows, “I shall obey the decree. Tonight, is a celebration of renewal.”

Janice looked around in total amazement. She also wondered how the new boat was coming along. She saw Dawn and Joe coming out of a hut and looking around at all the commotion. They spot Janice in the brightness of the many fires and torches and came to her.

Joe asked, “What’s going on … and why are they saying you are … anointed?”

Janice said softly, “Because someone saw me talking to a tree cat one night and told someone.” She looked at Dawn with a smile.

Dawn started to sputter some rebuttal, but Janice cut her off, “Hows the new boat coming along?”

“I just got here,” said Dawn, “but the others were saying that they’ve gotten a good start on it. It will take weeks to build, of course, but it’s got a frame now.”

“Yes, they made some good progress today,” Joe said. “Cera-la said that she knew you’d want to work on it, but clearly the gods had other plans for you today, so they’d give you a hand.”

“So what’s it mean, now that you’re Most High Priestess?” asked Dawn. “Do you have to stay here? Lead all the rituals?”

“I have no idea,” Janice said. “I’m sure someone will get around to telling me, though.”

“The gods will tell you,” said Ooma-nu. “All High Priestess means is that you’re the one the gods talk to the most. If they have something important they need you or someone else to do, they tell you about it. If not, they stay silent and you do … whatever you think is best. I’m sure they’ll tell you if you’re not doing what they want.”

“Well, right now I think we’ve got a plan, the gods and I,” said Janice. “And it involves building this boat and getting us back to civilization. Though … part of the plan involves my coming back afterwards.”

Before Anyone could ask anymore questions, a large crowd of villagers came and basically carried Janice off. When they had entered the Ceremonial Hut of the High Priestess, Janice saw all of the women inside were dressed in their robes. The young woman dressed as an otter, approached Janice, then knelt at her feet.

She said, “The anointed one has been chosen by the gods and returned to us. As prophecy spoke, so has she done. From the sky she shall come on wings of fire, to bring to the land many wonders. She will speak to the plants and they will answer. She will command the animals and they obey.”

With this, the woman offered up a spotlessly white robe with matching moccasins made of some kind of very soft leather. Janice had no clue what she should say or do at this point. Everything seemed like the villagers had been expecting it to happen all along.

Janice took the proffered rob, “Uhh, thanks? I think. What makes you think I am … the anointed?”

The young woman in the otter robe looked up and said softly, “Look at the stone in the necklace you wear. When you started your pilgrimage, it was deep sea blue. Now, it is clear as ice and within, you can see the swirling mists of foreknowledge. Only the anointed by the gods with an appointed mission can wear that stone. Something horrible would happen to those deemed … unworthy.”

Janice took the large stone in her hand. True enough, it was now a very clear diamond looking crystal with a large swirling mist within. As she looked into the crystal, she felt like she were falling into it. She saw an image of a very angry man. He was banging his fists on a large round table in a room full of other men. The vision changes. There is a hugely bright flash, then massive fire … Janice’s mind snaps back to the present.

Outside the hut they heard drums playing, and Janice looked out the window to see there was a group of islander men playing them. Many people were setting up for the celebration. “This is … so much. It’s just me, you know.”

“It is symbolic,” said one of the women, dressed as a cat. “You are our link to the gods. To do you honor is to honor them.”

“OK, I guess I can get behind that,” said Janice. “They’ve helped … all of us really. In ways we could never have helped ourselves. They do deserve our gratitude. I, on the other hand, just managed to live through a plane crash. That they may actually have caused, so I’m not sure how great that was. But then, almost everyone on the plane survived.”

“Do not sell yourself short, Most High Priestess,” said the cat-costumed woman. “You helped them all survive. And the others who were not with you -- they were separated from you, but they survived as well. They eventually landed on another island.”

“How do you know --” Janice began, but then the woman in the cat costume seemed to change suddenly and leapt out the window and scampered up a tree.

“OK, I thought that was a really good cat costume,” said Janice. “Could anyone tell me whether they saw that too?”

“Saw what, Most High Priestess?” asked a woman dressed as a turtle.

“This is going to take some getting used to.” sighed Janice as she pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger and slowly shook her head.

The group of priestesses gathered around Janice and began to chant in a language she had never heard before.

Oe-kwon and Ooma-nu entered the hut with several women in red playing flutes made of bamboo and some kind of shell. The music was wonderfully mystical as it melded perfectly with the rhythmic beating of the drums.

The woman dressed as an otter lit a torch in the center of the hut while the other women undressed Ooma-nu.

The otter woman approached Ooma-nu as she knelt in front of her. All eyes suddenly turned to Janice. Janice had no clue what was expected of her.

She heard a small, undemanding voice whisper quietly in her mind, “Take the bowl on the shelf behind you. Raise it in the air towards the window. Bow once, then place some of those seed pods into it. Pour water from the pottle hanging from the wall and mix it well. Then give it to the woman dressed as an otter.”

Janice obeyed. She felt she had no choice in the matter. When she had completed the task and handed the bowl to the otter woman, Ooma-nu held her large cup up … the woman dressed as an otter poured the liquid from the bowl and filled the cup. Janice watched as Ooma-nu quickly drank the contents and set the cup down. She had enough time to shiver before she shrank to the size of a little girl about 4 or 5 years old.

The woman dressed as an otter noticed Dawn, Torrie, Jean, and Joe looking in. She raised her head and said so that they could hear at the door, “Will miss Torrie please enter? I think … it’s time for her to make the transition for the benefit and pleasure of we village women.”

Everyone turned and looked at Torrie except for the several ladies attending to the now little girl Ooma-nu. Torrie’s eyes became large in fear as she ran off screeching.

One of the women dressed in black leaned over and said softly, “You shouldn’t tease her that way … it might cause her serious problems.”

All the women in the room giggled. Janice didn’t miss Jean, however, who was looking toward the hut wistfully as everyone else was watching Torrie run away.


The celebration continued on until the eastern sky turned orange, pink, and purple with the coming of the sun. Then the ritual of the sun began in earnest, all participated as it rose from the sea off on the far distant horizon.

As they sang and danced the sun up, many of them realized how tired they all were. Perhaps a nap was in order. It was the day after a festival, and work could wait a little while. Soon there was no sound but the crash of waves out at sea and the splashing hiss of water on the sand -- and the whispers of the trees to each other.


It was mid afternoon, and Janice awoke. She knew people would be waking up again at this time -- somehow she just knew. She stretched, wrapped skins around herself, and walked out of her hut into the afternoon … rain? She walked right back in again. Sure enough, it was raining steadily. Perhaps the alien plants wanted to make sure people got enough rest … or perhaps it was just rain.

She decided to straighten up a bit, folding mats and putting pottery away neatly. Someone had hung her priestess robe up neatly on a wooden hanger-like frame. There was a knock at her door.

Janice thought this was sort of strange since most of the villagers would enter then bow and ask permission to enter. Janice went to the door and opened it. There stood Cera-la and several of her construction team, totally soaked in the pouring rain.

Janice said, “Come in, come in, by all means. You are soaked to the bone. What brings you to Siola in a driving rain?”

As Janice handed them what passed for a towel, Cera-la replied, “I knew we were building a special craft. Especially the way I saw you draw up the plans. I had no idea that it was the boat of the Most High Priestess.”

All the women and several men bow low before Janice.

Janice said as she lifted Cera-la to her feet, “This is nonsense. You know who I am. There is no need for all that” Janice waves her arm, “foolishness from everyone. I am no different now, than when you first met me.”

Cera-la said, “Not so. I found something completely by accident I think will interest you.”

Cera-la holds out a leather mail pouch. Obviously the boat carrying the island chain’s mail had arrived sometime after she had left on her pilgrimage. Janice took the pouch, opened it, and removed a carefully carved, highly polished wooden plaque from it. On it was a name, Tammu-ah, a birthdate from almost 170 years past, and dates of renewal, one from 25 years past with the name Janice carved carefully into the polished wooden surface.

Janice looked at Cera-la with surprise as Cera-la said softly, “I didn’t realize who you were … and are.”

Janice asked, “And just who, am I supposed to be?”

All the women bowed at her feet once again as Cera-la replied reverently, “The one the gods chose many years ago, to save our island and our way of life from a very horrible fate.”

Once again, deep within Janice’s mind something akin to a real time hallucination appeared. Complete with sights and sounds. She saw a huge underground war room with a large circular table in the middle and many men in uniforms seated. All around were large screens with maps and data and many faces. She saw Namarati angrily banging his fists on the table. She could hear him saying that if the world didn’t like the fact he was in control of the formula … he would destroy everything. Then, the same massively bright flash and fire. Fire everywhere. Then she came back to herself.

“The formula …” said Janice quietly. “Surely he isn’t telling people he has it … oh, but of course he is. The right people … at the right times … and he could buy himself a lot of influence.” To Cera-la she said, “Well, perhaps I am and perhaps not, but there is a horrible fate awaiting all of us unless someone does something about it, and it might as well be me.” A vision of the plan and its outcome flashed before her eyes. Janice smiled.

“Well, perhaps we should head back to Kulol,” she said to Cera-la and the others, “and get back to work on that boat.” Cera-la smiled, and Janice got ready to go. The time for rituals was over; now was the time to get back to work.

The journey back to the coastal village, being downhill, took less than an hour of travel, though they stopped in Kwela for a short while to get out of the rain before continuing. When they returned to Kukol, the rain had tapered off to just a shower, and they discovered that the other survivors had been gathering supplies for the boat builders.

“That’s great, guys,” said Janice. “Thanks for all the help -- you’ve probably saved us days of work right there.”

“Hey, if it gets us home faster,” said Jay, “I for one will do anything you want. We just asked the builders what they needed and split up and started getting it. Let us know if you need anything else.”

“I --” Jean began, but stopped. “I’ll help by gathering anything you need,” she said simply, blushing.

Janice looked at Jean with a knowing glance. She walked over to her and whispered softly, “Soon, little girl. Be patient. All things come in their own time and place. Trust in the fact that it is more than a wish. One that I happen to be empowered to grant to you. Tell no one of this … it’s our secret … and Otter’s.”

Jean looked at Janice with surprise on her face as she blushed several shades of crimson redder than before. Janice watched with smile on her face as Jean dashed off in the drizzle to search out some ironwood bark to be woven into rigging for the sails and to become sheets and ropes.

Cera-la lead the rest of them over to the building place near the lagoon. Janice’s mouth fell open in surprise as she saw the spine and ribs had already been laid out and constructed for the tri-hull. Janice went over and even found the sturdy mast cradle blocks had already been built and installed.

“Absolutely … I am absolutely … amazed,” Janice said. “I don’t see how it’s even possible to make this much progress, in that short a time, even with so much help. Cera-la … thank you.”

“It is our way,” said Cera-la. “Besides, as it turns out, you are the new Most High Priestess. We do the gods honor by doing you honor.”

As long as the High Priestess acts honorably, thought Janice. “Well -- you know what I plan to do with the ship once it’s built. Help people -- both the people of the island and their guests.” And possibly the entire world, she thought. If that Namarati idiot kept making overtures to the USA, the Russians, the Chinese, the Europeans, the Japanese -- tensions were already high about rights to build military bases on his strategically-important islands, and if now he was claiming to have the secret of eternal youth … well, some would write him off as a raving madman and say he’d gone around the bend, but if even a few believed him, as long as they were rich and powerful enough, they’d be scrambling even more to ingratiate themselves with Namarati. No, it was imperative for everyone on Earth that she take him out of the picture.

Over the course of the next several weeks, Cera-la and her crew worked like madwomen. Janice and the others were constantly on the run making this component or fetching that material from some odd place on the island. Strangely enough, the materials were in abundance and their searches were quick and fruitful.

Janice learned how to weave ironwood fibers into a thick canvas like sail cloth, while Dawn learned how to weave sturdy ropes and sheets. Joe was kept busy carving the specialty wooden components while Jay and Sam learned how to properly insert, then fasten the retaining metal locking devices into the ribs, holding the side panels firmly in place. Jean learned how to make coconut tar and what thistledown was used for; towing the edges of the side panels and insuring they were sealed and watertight.

Joe and Dennis took Janice aside and commented that this looked more like a modern day racing vessel than a boat built by natives on some island under the most primitive conditions.

Finally the day came. The twin masts had to be seated in their cradles and the anchor pins driven in. Everyone had a large rope in their hands as all stood in every direction holding tension on the mast as it rose up and slid slowly along the shafting groove.

Torrie did her best to keep the coconut butter on the groove to grease it as the mast slid into its cradle and rose majestically into the early morning sky. With several loud clunks, and a bone rattling jar, the large masts slid into the proper place within the cradle.

Cera-la shouted to the few men working there to grab the large hammers and drive the anchor pins in before the mast slipped. The huge BOOM noise of them doing it rang through the village as all the people cheered.

All the survivors stood off at a distance and admired the sleek tri-hull vessel.

Cera-la walked up to Janice and patted her on the back, “Well done … very well done. No other island will have a fleet like the one we’re gonna have in a year.”

Janice chuckled. “Glad to help,” she said. “I was just … driven. I’ve learned a lot of things doing … well, the things I’ve done in my life, and I try to use them to good purpose.”

“Well, the purposes of fishing and trade are usually good,” said Cera-la, “as are helping your friends find their way home and whatever you’re going to do before you come back -- you said you would be bringing some kind of bad man back with you?”

“I’ll explain it all before we leave,” Janice promised. “He wants to go through the renewal, and the, well, the gods, have decided to allow it, but not because he is someone who makes the world a better place, which he is not, but because he needs to be given a new start. He wants to live forever and keep all his wealth and power. That will not be happening.”

“This sounds dangerous,” Cera-la said, frowning, “but with the guidance of the gods I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” said Janice simply. She hoped they knew what they were doing. Then again, they, or it, or whatever one calls a millennia-old communal plant hive mind from another planet, were quite powerful and had seen an awful lot of humans come and go in their time.

“Well, the next step is that you and your fellow survivors must begin training in it,” Cera-la said. “You cannot hope to survive an ocean journey without experience sailing as a team.”

“We’ll begin as soon as the varnish is dry,” Janice said. “Those of us who are leaving, anyway. Paulette is too small; she wouldn’t be able to survive if anything went wrong. We can get a ship or seaplane sent from the outside world -- if she wants to leave. Also … there’s Jean.”

“Oh yes, Jean. I can tell she doesn’t want to go.”

“She doesn’t. I think she’ll be staying. But she does want to help,” said Janice. Jean obviously wanted to be a little girl again and stay that way, for some reason. Actually, there were a few on the island like her. It wasn’t unheard of. And it wasn’t as if they couldn’t contribute to island society -- they were small and not physically strong, but they were still fast and light and could climb tall trees as well as any monkey.

Janice watched Jean as she went about her chores helping to bring the Trimaran boat to completion. She noticed Jean would watch the children from time to time with a wistful longing in her countenance. Janice knew she had to do what she had to do.

She went to the hut she was staying in while they were here, and removed one of the seed pods from a bunch hanging on one of the totem stands in the small room.
She ground it up with the stone pestle in a mortar made of shell.

Janice said the small ritual chant over the remaining powder as she added another ingredient made from a large berry taken from the fruiting vine of one of the alien plant creatures and mixed it slowly insuring all the powder was dissolved. She carried the mixture still in the ritual bowl to Manna-lu, the otter woman.

As Janice entered the woman’s hut, Manna-lu was already dressed in her otter outfit. She turned and knelt at Janice’s feet and said reverently, “I hear the call of the gods and know their decree, Most High Priestess. Send the woman here, and a child she will forever be.”

Janice’s face held a slight expression of surprise for an instant before she handed the bowl to Manna-lu, “With this, the gods grant Jean eternal childhood to have and help.”

Manna-lu stood and took the bowl and replied, “As it is so.”

Janice left and returned to her hut and put on the bright, spotlessly white leather robe, moccasins, and necklace that signified she was the Most High Priestess. She left the hut and found Jean, who was busy splashing island made varnish on the deck boards.

Janice said softly, “Jean, you are to come with me.” Then turned, and walked back towards Manna-lu’s hut without saying another word.

Jean quickly dropped the makeshift brush and followed Janice to Manna-lu’s. Manna-lu’s hut was dark inside, until she pulled some cords, and the window mats rolled up, letting the sunlight in, so it was as if Jean had brought the light with her as she stood amazed at the center of the room. The interior of the hut was decorated with paintings and drawings of all the island’s stories, and colorful toys of the characters in them.

“Please come in, child,” said Manna-lu to Jean, “for this is the home of the Eternal Child.”

“Wait, that’s one of the gods, isn’t it?” asked Janice. “I’m sure I’m supposed to know all of that, but I’m still new to this … in this lifetime, I guess.”

Manna-lu nodded. “You are the Most High Priestess, but I am the Priestess of the Eternal Child, guardian of all that is pure and innocent in all of us,” she explained. “There are a few who are chosen to truly embody the Child and live as children forever. No one is ever chosen who does not desire it with all their soul. But be aware of what it means,” she added, looking to Jean. “It will depend on how young your inner self knows herself to be. You may not be able to pronounce words correctly. You may never have all your teeth. You may not be able to walk well. You may have accidents and need diapers … forever. These are all choices you must make.”

“I … umm,” Jean started. “I’m not sure you understand, or maybe you do. I’m … I don’t know how to say it. I’ve never really felt like an adult. Every day of my life I feel like I’m faking, pretending, lying. You don’t know … how hard it is for me to keep from lying about other things because I feel like since I’m lying about being an adult, how bad could one more lie be?”

“Your desire seems sincere,” said Manna-lu. “Let us prepare for the ritual. You should remove all of your clothes and kneel here.” She indicated a tan mat that had been laid out on the floor, with some neatly folded child-sized clothing next to it. As Jean removed all of her clothes, then knelt down, Manna-lu looked at Janice and said, “As the High Priestess, you should stand here and hold this.” She handed Janice a dried gourd with holes bored in it; it obviously contained water. “The water represents the blessings of the gods; the ritual will not work without it.”

“And now,” Manna-lu said, “Let us begin. Oh Eternal Child, we call to you,” she chanted. “Is this woman your chosen daughter? We pray for your wisdom. We ask that you guide us to do what is right, because on this path there is no turning aside, no way back. Will she become an embodiment of your eternal innocence?” As she chanted this, she lit a small twig with a candle and dropped it into a pot of dried herbs, which began to smoke. The aromatic aroma of the sweet smelling herb filled the room and the souls of those there intensely with many voices and visions of childhood. The hut’s windows were open wide, so it did not fill with smoke. Manna-lu set the smoking pot in front of Jean, where she could breathe its sweet-smelling smoke. “Let the smoke purify your soul, and tell us … why you must be a child for now and forever.”

“I … I …” Jean hesitated, but slowly closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. She could feel it as the smoke caused wonderful and intense sensations to wash through her, “It was … December, cold and snowy,” she began, speaking in English, and Janice understood, but she wasn’t sure whether Manna-lu did. Did it matter? “I was three years old, my mother’s only child. Our family wasn’t rich, but we were all right … until Dad left. Now we didn’t have enough money to afford our house. But that had been in September. Now it was December. Mom told us there would be no Christmas, no presents, no Santa Claus. There was more. She was pregnant with another child. Another gift from Dad. We moved from one place to another … I guess they were charities and shelters … and finally Mom had her baby. I was three, and now I had a baby brother. I wasn’t the baby anymore … only I was. My babyhood had been … stolen.” She started to sob. “I couldn’t. I watched this little baby, helping to take care of him, do things for him that I could only barely do, things that had been done for me just weeks before, things I would never have again, given to him … and Mom was hardly ever around, leaving us places, going to work, finding money where she could …”

“Oh, Jean,” said Janice, a tear in her eye. “Now I see.”

Manna-lu walks up to Jean with the bowl in her hand. She said softly, “Though all the adversity, the child within you remained. Hurting and wishing to be a child once again … is this not so?”

Janice raised an eyebrow. It still amazed her how … the islanders seemed to know what they were saying in English under these ritual circumstances … even though they didn’t seem to speak it themselves.

Jean held up the large cup she had been given. Manna-lu poured the liquid from the ritual bowl and filled the cup as she had done countless times for the renewal ceremony over many years.

Jean looked into the cup for an instant or two. She took a deep breath and drank the cup’s contents. She was amazed at how wonderful it tasted. The flavor was super unique. One she had never tasted before or even heard described. She had enough time to shiver as an intense wave of sensation washed through her. When she opened her eyes once again … the whole room had grown larger along with Janice and the otter woman.

Manna-lu smiled and said, “So the first step is done. Now the child will stand for us to view and dress accordingly.”

Janice helped the now little girl Jean to her feet. She was the most adorable 4 year old you could imagine. Jean squeals as she held between her legs. Janice and Manna-lu smiled as they see her have the first of many little girl accidents she will have from now on.

Janice kneels and picked up what passed for a diaper here and said softly, “I know this isn’t pullups, but it will have to do until I can figure a way to make you some.”

Manna-lu cleaned Jean well, then Janice diapered her and dressed her in a very cute little dress made by one of the women in another village. Jean was now the little girl she had always imagined herself to be. Her mind, however, was still completely intact. There were a few minor hiccups, though. Her body would only respond as a little girl of that age for the moment. It would be a while before she regained the total use she had as an adult.

“Now,” intoned Manna-lu, “many have undergone the transformation you have just experienced, but we are not done here. If we go no further, you will grow up once again, just as any child does. But that is not your true wish, is it? If the Eternal Child has truly called to your spirit, you must become a child forever.”

Jean spoke, her voice sounding very tiny, even to herself, saying, “This is … who I truly feel myself to be. I never wish to be bigger. This is where I want to stay.”

“Very well, then,” said Manna-lu. “High Priestess, bless this child with the water of the gods, and she shall truly be the Eternal Child’s daughter, for now and forever.”

Janice sprinkled the water from the gourd over Jean’s head, wetting her hair and clothes. Jean felt the cool water shower over her -- but then she felt something different. She wasn’t feeling her body change anymore, but she felt a cool, calm peace penetrating inward to her very core. She wanted to run through a sprinkler. But they didn’t have those here. But she knew where there was a waterfall. She wanted to go there now. Then she heard a voice in her head -- a laughing child’s voice. “Awright! I have a new little sister! This is gonna be the best! I’m gonna show you all the best places to play -- oh but for now you better finish the ritual thing.” The voice went away.

Janice said softly as she extinguished the ritual torch, “From times unto times shall you bear the right to be a child. None may take it. And, although for most, time has the last laugh … only those such as you can laugh back.” She hoped that sounded mysterious and reverent enough.

From somewhere hidden began rhythmic drumbeats and mystical flute music filling the hut with many emotions. Jean stood in total amazement at the overwhelming sensations of being a little girl once again.

“So what do you think?” came a voice from behind her. It was Janice, who now towered over her like a tree. “Is it what you thought it would be like?”

“I … uh …” began Jean. “No … better!” she said with a giggle. She tried to take a few steps but fell down, her body refusing to do quite what she wanted. Luckily they were still inside Manna-lu’s hut, so she fell onto soft mats. “I soooo wanna run an’ play but not sure I can run …”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get used to it in time, kiddo,” said Janice. “Tell you what, I’ll give you a boost.” She picked Jean up and put her on her shoulders, one tiny foot on each side. “Now the islanders know all about this, so they’ll be fine, but until the other survivors get used to the idea, they’ll probably be a little weird around you. Especially … well, Torrie is always getting teased about this kind of thing, probably because she’s so small and really cute, or maybe because she just panics so much in reaction. And then there’s Paulette, who was forced into being a baby again. Neither of them would really understand why anyone would choose it voluntarily ... and forever to boot.”

“Now,” said Manna-lu, looking up at Jean atop Janice’s shoulders, “look how tall you are! I thought we just went through all this trouble to make you small, so how can this be?’’ She smiled, and Jean giggled. “I am sure you were worried a bit about being small and needing to be taken care of -- after all, there are some things you simply cannot do for yourself.” Jean nodded solemnly. “Well, do not worry,” Manna-lu continued. “None of us can do everything for ourselves. Those who cannot built boats build huts instead, as the old saying goes. There are parents who would be happy to give you a place to sleep, feed you and keep you in dry diapers in exchange for having a playmate for their own children. There are childless couples who would be happy for you to live with them. And in time you will learn how to do things that neither the adults nor the ordinary children can.”

“Meanwhile, for now, I’m going to treat you just like the child you are,” said Janice, “as an example for the others to follow. So hang on!” Janice jogged out of the hut and into the sunlight, bouncing a giggling Jean on her shoulders. “Where to, kiddo?”

After Changing out of her priestess outfit, Janice played with the new child until both were truly exhausted, and both felt the better for it. Janice had wanted to make sure this happened before the boat was completed and they left the island -- for one thing, she could strongly feel the empty void that had been in Jean’s heart, and now she knew what it had meant. For another thing, although the plan was for Janice to come back … there were no guarantees that she would. She was going up against the raw forces of nature, then against a man who was the absolute ruler of a country and had his own army and navy at his beck and call. She had a plan, but it was still dangerous. So she wanted to ensure that Jean’s wish came true while she knew she could do so, before venturing into the unknown.



Finally, the boat was finished. Today was the first day they were going to train with it. Janice, Jay, Joe, Dennis, Torrie, Sam, Dawn, and Diane assembled on the beach, together with Cera-la, Tama-oe, and the other boat builders. They looked at the boat, resting there on its supports. “It is time,” Cera-la said. “We must put this fish in the water! Let us do this thing.”

The survivors stood all around the new tri-hull as several large women came to the bow with large wooden mallets. At a signal from Cera-la, they pounded several wedges loose from several logs across the front of the mid hull, that kept it from sliding. With the obstruction gone, the sleek tri-hulled vessel slid easily into the water, leaving very little wake.

Cera-la smiled as she shouts, “All right people, get the hustle in your feet. Time to take this out for a flight.”

Excitement ruled as the crew assembled, then walked/swam out to the outer hull and climbed up the rope ladder hung there. Dennis, Joe, Dawn, Janice, Jay, and Sam all climbed on board. Cera-la assigned everyone their shakedown duties and positions.

Dawn watched with pride as the sail she had woven with her own hands lifted to the pinnacle. She saw a beautiful design woven into the cloth of a vine twisting around and forming two symbols in the native language.

Cera-la leaned over and whispered into Janice’s ear softly, “The design is to show the other islanders this ship is from Infant Island.”

With a loud popping crack, the sail billowed out for a second as it fluffed the wind, then filled out. With a lurch, the tri-hull leapt off through the waves out to sea. The crew could hear the loud cheering from the villagers that had come out to watch.

Munni-tu came to the tiller pit and said softly, “This boat out performs any that I have seen made in our islands.”

Cera-la nods as she pats Janice on her back, “I know. No one has a boat as fine as this. It’s fast, and because of its triple hull design, will be more stable in rough open sea than our outriggers.”

The experienced sailors showed the survivors how to sail the boat, explaining what they were doing and then putting the survivors to work. Each one had to do each task and then rotate to another position, so everyone had experience with every part of the boat and so they could get a good idea of who was better at which task. It was when Dawn was in charge of the forward ropes when she saw something big in the water. “What’s that?” she shouted, as she had to in order to be heard over the waves.

“That … is an orca,” said Munni-tu, looking to follow Dawn’s pointing finger. “Don’t fall in. But the good thing is -- on a day when they’re out, we don’t have to worry about sharks.”

“Uh … which is worse?” asked Dawn.

“Sharks are worse, definitely,” the native said. “Sometimes orcas will leave you alone. You don’t have very good chances with sharks.”

Cera-la tells Munni-tu to allow Janice to take the tiller. A rather stiff breeze was coming around the island and caught the sails. The tri-hull stood up on its outer hull and raced along faster than any vessel Cera-la and the others had ever seen.

Due to the hull design, it rode the rougher parts of the waters with ease. The waves near to shore seemingly had no effect on the stability of the craft as Janice brought it in close to do some hull surfing. The boat was responsive, and obeyed helm very well. There was no wallowing nor side slippage in any of the many turns Cera-la had Janice perform.

They were about a mile from shore when one of those magic storms appeared all around them. Massive lightning began to flash as torrential rains fell hard. Huge waves rose majestically all around them. The tri-hull took it all in stride as Cera-la and the crew took action to return to the island and the lagoon’s safety.

As violent as the storm became, the tri-hull rode it out, until the crow watch saw the torch of the lagoon through the driving rain and gale winds.

She shouted above the tempest, “There it is, home beacon!”

Janice adjusted the tiller so the craft rapidly approached the harbor. To those on the beach looking worriedly into the tempest, they saw the majestic tri-hull race rapidly up riding gracefully atop a huge wave, then slide several yards onto the beach, leaving it well above the high water mark.

“We made it!” shouted Dawn. “Janice, you handled that tiller like a pro!”

“Thanks,” said Janice. “Next time -- it’s your turn.”

“Eep!” Dawn gasped. “I … I’m not sure …”

“If there’s a storm we’ll help out,” Janice said, “but I want to make sure everyone knows how to do it. If I fall off the boat and get eaten by sharks, or get hit by a boom and knocked unconscious, or any of the thousand other things that can go wrong, I want someone else to know how to do it.”

“Well, I guess ...” began Dawn.

“I’ll do it,” said Torrie. “I want to know how to do everything.”

“Plenty of opportunities for everyone to learn,” said Janice. She just hoped they’d make it in time … before Namarati’s developing diplomatic disaster turned into a full-blown battle.

The next day went even better -- not only wasn’t there a storm, both Dawn and Torrie took their turns at the tiller and learned how to steer the boat, against the waves, with the waves, and across the waves. They all learned how to tack against the wind as a team.

Once they were back on shore, Jean ran up to Janice, falling on the sand a few times but getting back up. “Janice Janice!” she shouted, hugging her once she finally reached her. “Guess what? I learned where the funnest waterfall is and I can run under it and there aren’t even any leeches or bitey fish!”

“That’s great, kiddo!” Janice said, picking Jean up and carrying her. “Did you meet any of the other kids yet?”

“Yeah! I met Sanna and Jumo and Lima -- she’s like me, she’s one of the kids that are forever! She showed me the waterfall.”

“Is that Jean?” asked Dawn. “Oh gosh -- Jean, you’re so cute! Can I hold you?”

“OK!” Jean said, giggling as Janice transferred her to Dawn’s arms.

“So is it true, you want to be a … well a toddler forever?” Dawn asked, and Jean nodded, and they talked about it.

“I don’t … I just … ugh,” said Torrie, looking on.

“Something wrong?” asked Janice.

“It … it’s just … I feel weird,” Torrie said, “whenever I see that.”

“I know you’re not comfortable with being a child again,” Janice said, “but don’t worry, no one’s going to make you do it. When we get you off the island, it won’t be a part of your life anymore, if you don’t want it to be.”

“Good,” said Torrie. “I mean, I like Jean and all, but … to give up life as an adult forever? It sends chills down my spine.”

“Do you want to talk about that?” asked Janice. “It’s a bit unusual, I’ll admit, but I don’t think it bothers most people like it bothers you.”

“Maybe,” Torrie said. “Maybe later.” The two watched in silence as Jean chattered at Dawn about all the things she’d done that day, then chattered at Joe about them as Dawn walked near Joe. Joe smiled and laughed.

Later in the day, after the survivors had eaten lunch and recuperated from the morning’s training, they all somehow managed to be at the lagoon. Cera-la was walking off the yards long skid marks left in the sand by the tri-hull the day of the storm.

Janice came up to Cera-la and asked, “Is something wrong?”

Cera-la turned and with great joy in her voice replied, “Not in the least. Do you realize what you have had us build? It … it’s gonna revolutionize our fishing. Tenna-ho is weaving new nets that we can cast from both runners of the tri-hull. Means double the haul. It’s faster by far than any of the outriggers we made prior to this. I have also discovered a way to improve wind utilization. Instead of using that horrid triangle sail exclusively, I decided to use several of different shapes to test and see which performs the best.”

Janice giggles, “Well, in the front, can use a slim triangle, wide at the bottom and narrow point at the top … call it a jib. The large rectangle can be used for chasing the wind … called a spinnaker.”

Cera-la looked at Janice for a second before she replied, “If I didn’t know you better … I would swear you’re bucking to take my position of Ship Master.” She places her hands on her hips and makes a playful face.

Janice shakes her head and laughs, “Not in the least, but if I can improve the design and make things better.” Janice shrugged.

Cera-la said, “The way this thing handled in the storm!” Cera-la shivered with excitement, “I can think of a few improvements that would make this an even more formidable ocean going craft. I think I’m going to start cultivating the materials now. In a month or so, should have collected enough to build another, better one.”

“Only if you let me help!” said Janice.

“Well --” began Cera-la, then said more quietly, “If the gods permit, everything will go well, when you bring him back here with you.”

“If everything goes according to plan,” said Janice quietly, nodding seriously.

The team continued training day after day, until came the day when they sailed the boat solo, without native instructors. Again they rotated positions until they had the routines down. Then … Janice introduced one curve ball after another. Tacking … sailing across the beam … heeling up on one hull … all of these things the group proved they could handle, in multiple arrangements.

When they got back to shore that evening, Janice said, “Well, I really put us all through our paces today -- I hope it was all right. You all did very well!”

“I’m feeling great!” said Jay. “We can actually do it!”

“Yeah,” said Dennis, “it’s quite a feeling, knowing we can actually sail.”

“We might actually get home,” said Torrie. “I feel so much better.”

“Right now I just want to lie down and sleep,” said Diane. “I’m soooo tired!”

All the survivors slept, except for Janice. Her dreams were once again filled with visions and whispers just outside of her understanding. The villagers noticed immediately how all the trees around the survivor's huts … glowed with a mysterious blue/white light. The leaves could be heard rustling softly, while no breeze blew.

Janice finally got up from her mat and went outside. She immediately noticed the glow … and the windless rustling of the leaves. She put her head in her hands and said through them, “Leave me alone. If you don’t want me to know now … tell me when you do.”

A deep voice she couldn’t mistake as it rumbled through the village, “Ready yourself my love. The time is at hand. Provisions are being gathered as we speak for your journey. It must be now.”

The glow faded and the trees became silent around the survivor’s huts. Janice turned in time to see many of the villagers standing in awe, staring directly at her with big surprised eyes.

Tama-oe came from one of the many huts and said loudly, “Go back to bed everyone. You act like you have never seen the gods talk to the Most High Priestess before.”

A small voice said, “Not in that voice, not ever.”

Tama-oe sighed as she shook her head. Why did the gods have to bother Janice in the middle of the night. Made the people unable to sleep. She finally said tiredly, “Go back to bed everyone. I’m sure the Most High Priestess will tell us what we need to know … in the morning.”

Slowly, one by one at first, then as a crowd, the villagers left the commons area and returned to their huts. Tama-oe nodded to Janice with a knowing glint in her eye as she too turned and went into her hut.

Janice stood alone in the night, listening to the softly rustling leaves from the jungle as they whispered across the island, “Now … it is time … Now … it is time.”

“Well,” Janice said to herself, “they know best.” She started packing up a kit and gathering food for the journey … only to find, when she approached the boat, that it was already loaded with plenty of baskets, made of woven leaves, full of fruits and vegetables. Upon closer inspection, she found that several of the baskets contained not vegetables but hollowed gourds full of fresh water.

“Everything but the fish,” she said. “Thanks, guys. I’ll do my best.” She had already packed a set of fishing spears and lures.

As the dawn approached there was a silence over the village of Kukol that somehow felt tense, even though there was nothing visibly or audibly wrong -- except that wasn’t quite accurate.

“Good morning,” said Tama-oe to Cera-la as they came out of their huts and saw each other. “Why is it … oh. The silence. The birds are usually singing the sun up.”

“Yes,” Cera-la said. “I can hear only the sea. Even the wind is still.”

“Well, I suppose it will just have to fall on us people to sing the sun up,” said Ue-halo, coming over to join the growing group. People were coming out of their huts for the morning ritual. The other survivors joined them too.

The song was simple, and so was the dance, and that is why everyone could do it, even little children. But everyone did it every day, because it was to honor the gods and the earth and sea. Besides, it was fun. As she danced, Janice thought about how attached she’d become to this small island and its warm, welcoming people … and about how this might be the last time she saw it.

When the dance ended and the sun peeked over the horizon, Janice called out, “Some of you know this already, but -- the time is now! The eight of us must go, for it is our destiny. Two of us remain here, and I intend to come back -- perhaps some of these others will come back as well someday -- but this morning, it is time for us to sail.”

Joe, who had of course been the pilot of the airplane that had brought them all here -- or part of the way here -- stepped forward. “We’ve all talked and decided that I would say a word,” he said. “Our thanks go forth to all of you, all the people of this island. You have given us so much, and although we’ve tried to give something back in return, we can never repay you for your kindness. I know what you would say -- if it is repaid, it isn’t kindness -- but our world would say that we owe you a debt. We’ve been here long enough to know that on this island, you’d say instead that we’re now family. But, sadly or not, we already had family and friends before we chanced to come here, and if we don’t make our way back to them, they will live in sorrow for the rest of their lives, thinking that we didn’t make it. We can’t do that to them. And we won’t do that to you. Somehow we’ll keep in touch. Maybe it will be a message in a bottle or letters in the sky, or maybe we’ll come back to visit, but you will know that we’re all right. What you’ve done for us … we’ll never forget.”

The eight swam out to the floating craft just as the sun cleared the eastern horizon. Tide was high, and a wind began to blow. Janice took the tiller position first as Dawn, Joe, and Dennis raised the mainsail and a liner jib to catch it.The eight of them heard a new chant from the island as the tri-hull sailed rapidly out to sea. It sounded mournful, full of silent tears. Janice knew in her heart that she had to succeed. She knew that chant, although no one had ever sung it for them before. It was the funeral chant, with all the hopes and wishes of all the people they had come to know as … family.

In a small chain of strategically important South Pacific islands, a man sat at a control panel and gleefully entered data into the targeting computer. Namarati giggled like a child on Christmas morning, playing with his new toy.

He felt very fortunate to have acquired one of the most advanced mobile missile systems on earth, and to have almost a dozen operational brought him much joy.

He looked at the large semi-clear screen that showed a world map. On each major continent, appeared the impact zone of one of the missiles in a strategically important city. These warheads may not have been totally nuclear, but they contained enough high level radioactive substances to make a mess none of the world powers would be able to handle. With cruise missiles and hydrous warhead capability, they were sure to mostly hit their targets. He smiled as he fondled a seed pod necklace around his neck, made of four large pods and eight small red berries. By agreeing to allow the North Koreans to build a base on one of his islands, he had obtained a missile system, and now, he had proven to several of the Chinese delegates that he did in fact have access to the fabled Elixir Vitae.

A door opened and a man in uniform entered, “Sir, Xin Ki is here with his delegation. They are in the war room now.”

Namarati said, “I’ll be there in a minute. I have things to do first.”

The man saluted, made a perfect about face, then left. Namarati smiled. He knew he had them in his pocket. Now, to show the rest of the world he meant business.



Dennis sighted the sun with the sextant that Janice had made and consulted the charts that Diane had copied. “We’re heading due west, and making good time -- I know the position of Infant Island isn’t exactly constant, but according to this chart, unless we’re much farther west than the island’s ever been sighted, if we keep on this course we’ll see land sooner or later. With any luck, it’ll be land that doesn’t move.”

“What if we are farther west than it’s ever appeared?” asked Dawn.

“Then I guess we’ll discover Asia,” Dennis said.

“How’s the fishing going?” asked Jay.

“Got one … might be about to get another one …” replied Sam, concentrating and holding a spear. He jabbed into the water with it … “Hah!” he said with a satisfied tone, pulling the rope back, his spear impaling a largish mahi mahi. “We’ll just cook these up with some of those veggies, and we’ll have a feast right here on the ocean.”

“You really think you can cook out here?” asked Torrie. “I mean, it’s not rough, but it rolls a lot.”

“I’ve cooked in worse,” Sam said.

“I suspect this east wind is unseasonable,” Joe said, holding the tiller steady, “but by now I’ve learned not to be surprised by anything. No need to adjust the sails, Janice!”

“Fine by me,” Janice said. “I’ll just climb up and have a look.” She climbed the mast and sat on the spar that served as a crow’s nest. “I wish I had a telescope or binoculars or something, because I can’t tell whether that’s land or a cloud bank or …” She coughed. “Hey, warn me before you fire up the grill! You’re smoking me like a side of bacon.”

Sam looked up from the clay cook stove the islanders had made just for this vessel and saw the long lazy curls of smoke drifting right to Janice. The wind blew perfectly to allow it to happen.

As Janice climbed down the mast spar, Joe looked over the bow as best he could off into the western horizon. He thought he saw a dark, purple sort of mass along it far off. The sun was past zenith and it was getting to be late afternoon by this time and made it sort of hard to really tell.

The Tri-Hull made excellent time as it knifed smoothly through the waters. Dennis looked up from the charts he had been examining and said, “I think that … purple smudge on the horizon is the Solomon Islands … if our origin position was correct. Otherwise, it almost has to be New Guinea.”

Dawn asked, “How long, you think, before we arrive to land?”
Dennis replied, “Well, we’ve been out about 4 days so far. The wind has held steady. If it continues like this and no calamities befall us … probably another 3 days or so.”

Torrie said sheepishly, I’m gonna be cooked by then. I already have the start of major sunburn.”

Diane laughed, “If you would put some clothes on and not try and show off the fact you are a little girl … maybe you wouldn’t.”

Everyone laughed about that as Torrie blushed several shades redder than her shoulders.

Dawn was at the tiller that night, and Jay was watching the ropes, though the night breeze wasn’t very strong. Everyone else was asleep, and soon they would be too, because it would be Torrie and Joe’s turn. “Jay,” said Dawn, “what are you going to do first when you get back?”

“Well as an airline employee I have a responsibility to report in as soon as possible,” Jay said, thinking over the question. “It’s not my fault that it’s taken so long to be able to report in. Joe and I -- Sam and Dennis too -- will have to write reports about the crash and our experiences after. We’ll probably leave out the … less believable aspects of it. We’ll just say we got assistance from some primitive but helpful natives and finally managed to build a boat. They’ll probably have all kinds of lawyers and stuff interviewing us, trying to gather information to protect the company from lawsuits. Not everyone survived, you know. Also, people will want to know about Jean and Paul … ette.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Dawn mused. “I wonder what we can tell people? I mean, they’re alive, but they’re not exactly recognizable.”

“I bet Janice will think of something --” Jay began. “Oh, that’s right! She’s … probably not coming back with us.”

“Yeah,” Dawn said. “She’s got some kind of … mission or something.”

“I suspect she’s some kind of … government agent or that kind of thing,” Jay said. “She’s just been too well prepared this entire time.”

“But she said she’s going back to the island, too,” said Dawn.

“Well … I have to admit, I kind of want to also,” Jay said wistfully. “It seems kind of sad to leave. It’s like … paradise.”

“Yeah … I know what you mean,” Dawn sighed.

“How about you? What are you going to do?” Jay asked.

“I guess there will probably be a big media circus when we get back … the survivors, presumed lost, found after … how many months has it been?” Dawn thought, then said, “I wonder if I could write a book about it and get it published?”

“Maybe,” said Jay. “Though if you tell people what really happened, you’ll have to publish it as a fantasy novel.”

“Yeah,” Dawn said. “I guess I’ll have to leave out the wilder parts too.”

That night, Janice noticed a large change in the air temperature and the character of the wind. She leaned her head back and took a long deep sniff of the air. Something deep within her was telling her to be wary, something was amiss.

She looked up into the seemingly depthless sky at all the many stars visible. Off on the very far distant western horizon, Janice did see a very faint glow. She looked down at the compass she had scavenged from the liferaft, it said they were headed almost perfectly due west. She knew instinctively, land would be in sight by sundown tomorrow, and by sundown the next day, they should be able to see the beach of whatever was making the large light.

The wind began to pick up. The Tri-hull took it all in stride and sailed on even faster and more gracefully. By the time the vessel was starting to haul the furthest most hull from the water, Janice knew they were going to have a rough night.

She locked the tiller in cruze position, then went into the small cabin and woke everyone.

Janice said softly, “People, I think we have some kind of storm in our path. From what I can see, there’s a very faint glow on the western horizon. I’m fairly sure that’s civilization, or something approximating it. If we can survive the night … this is the Infant’s first deep ocean storm.”

Joe piped up, “The Infant?”

Janice giggled, “Yup, that’s what Cera-la and the builders christened her.”

Everyone laughed. The laughter was cut short as the craft suddenly rose rapidly in the air, the deck canted back enough, Janice lost her footing and almost fell. Then, just as suddenly, everything became suspended in air for an instant until the craft hit the bottom of the mountainous wave’s trough, only to start it once again.

Janice went out the cabin on hands and knees, “It’s starting people. I need the 2 mainsails down now, and a fore Jib and a small chaser sail on the aft mast.”

Dawn commented as they all scrambled to make preparations for the blow, “My oh my, Janice sounds just like Captain Bly.”

Everyone laughed again as they made their way out into the worsening weather to lower the mainsails and raise the storm chasers.

The gentle roll of the ocean had become a roller-coaster ride. Once everyone had left the small cabin, Janice made sure everything was stowed and lashed down. Thinking quickly, she then made sure everyone who wasn’t actively working the sails was tied down -- she made sure that at least one loop of rope was tied around everyone’s waist, arm, or at least ankle, with the other end fastened to the ship’s frame in some way. “No way am I losing you if you go overboard,” Janice shouted to Dawn over the noise of the wind and waves.

Thunder crashed as Janice made her way to Torrie, Sam and Jay, who were struggling to reset the sails and started preparing safety lines for them too. They had stowed the mainsail and were setting the smaller storm chasers -- it was obvious why they wanted those; the winds of the storm were easterly for the most part, so they were at least going to get some mileage out of the storm’s fury. Nature was about to batter them, but when life gives you lemons, etc.

“I thought the gods were going to protect us!” shouted Sam as Janice tied a safety line around his waist.

“Maybe we’re too far away,” Janice shouted. “Or maybe they arranged for this, knowing we could handle it. I don’t know!”

“Are they real?” shouted Torrie. “Are there really gods, and are you really on a first-name basis with them?”

“They’re not supernatural beings!” shouted Janice over the rising wind and the rain that had started to pelt them. “But they’re real! They’re extraterrestrial in origin, and they have knowledge and technology way beyond ours. Are there really gods out there, though? That’s not a question I can answer. The ‘gods’ of the island are just … powerful allies. Believing in real religion-type gods -- that’s something only you can decide. If you believe in them -- praying to them now would be a great idea!”

“There, that should do it!” shouted Jay, tying off the last sail. “You’re good to go, Diane!” He waved to her, holding onto the tiller with a grip of iron.

“OK, hang onto something and don’t stand up or move around unless you really have to,” Janice said. “I’m going to back up Diane at the tiller in case she needs an extra pair of arms.”

Lightning flashed across the leaden sky as the pelting rain became driving and then sheeting. Water washed across the small decks of the outer hulls and the larger deck of the central hull as the tri-hull vessel crested every large wave with easy grace. The ship climbed up one enormous swell, crested it, and then careened down the other side, then started climbing again. So far, the boat’s wide base and short masts kept them stable -- so far. The wind howled and whipped about, but that wind was at their backs.

“I can’t -- hold it!” shouted Diane, trying with all her strength to hang onto the tiller and keep the wind behind them, but it was pulling to one side like some mighty beast. Janice got up and tried to help her with it, but knew it would be a struggle even then.

“It’s too much -- use the ropes,” Janice said, and they went to one side to turn the handles on the spools of rope attached to the tiller -- Janice had showed the islanders how to make a basic relieving tackle, and they had taken to the idea right away, building one onto this new ship. The spool was easier to turn than the tiller, but also had a setting mechanism so the force wouldn’t be able to overwhelm them.

The winch and pulley system gave the muscle power the girls didn’t have to keep the tiller straight and sure with a monster like this blowing. It was hard work, the strain showing on all the survivor’s bodies as they fought the majestic raw fury of nature.

The ship was sound and true as it carried them through the worst that tempest could dish out. Nearly sunrise, the storm had almost blown itself out. A sort of heavy rain fell, but the huge wind driven waves had passed. Janice and the crew could tell in the coming light, they had survived the storm, rode it like a bronco, and now stood victorious, although humbled.

Exhausted, they lay on the deck, being pelted by heavy rain, unable to sleep because of the urgent possibility that the storm might escalate into another tempest. Torrie was actually the one who found the energy to climb up and try to see something, anything, through the drivin rain. “A light!” she called out. “I see a … oh it’s gone. But I saw a light!”

Joe and Dennis took up the fore spar position and began looking for something in the growing light that might account for the light. Once again, far off in the distance, a flash of light briefly appeared, but was then lost again in the rain and fog. It was too far away to tell much else.

Dennis said to Torrie, “Good catch. I’m not exactly sure where that is because of the storm, but if we stayed on a westerly course … it might be one of the Gilbert Islands.”

Joe commented, “If it is, we will make landfall before lunch.”

The rain slackened off, and soon they were drying their clothes on the ropes. Because it was fun, and because it made them feel better, the survivors did the ritual of the Sun as it peeked over the eastern horizon.

Dennis took the charts out of the sealed aluminum tube and sighted the Sun and whatever else he could find in the sky, finding the Moon and Venus visible. Using Janice’s astrolabe he was actually able to make a good estimate of the date and time. Focusing on the charts he had, he concentrated for a while until he finally announced, “I can’t come to any other conclusion -- we’re heading straight for Tarawa.”

“Tarawa!” shouted Joe. “Tarawa has an airport! We’ve done it!” There was cheering among the survivors.

“We’ll have to sail around the island to get into the lagoon,” said Dennis, “because we’re coming from the east and it opens to the west. But that’s where all the docks and ports are, so that’s where we’ve got to go. But it shouldn’t take too long.”

There were a few ships visible on the water as they sailed around the south side of the island, but they were too distant to signal and probably couldn’t see the trimaran either. However, as they turned northward to approach the island from the west, they entered the shipping lanes, and ships of all sizes and kinds were all around them. They waved to the fishing and pleasure vessels they saw, and the crews of those ships waved back, unsure of what they were seeing. Finally the Infant entered the Tarawa lagoon and started making its way eastward toward the town of Bonriki. The survivors hoping they could find a place to dock and make contact with the authorities.

They continued waving at passing ships until they were approached by what was obviously a motorized police vessel, though it wasn’t marked in English. “We’d better lower sail and let them come talk to us,” said Joe. The rest agreed and started furling the sails. A voice was speaking over the police boat’s loudspeaker in several languages as it approached, until they finally heard in English, “Unknown vessel please halt for identification. Unknown vessel please halt …”

“Ahoy!” shouted Joe, waving his arms above his head, “we’re plane crash survivors! Please help us! Requesting assistance!” He repeated his message several times as the police craft approached.

The police craft came alongside, and the man who had been speaking English came out of the cabin and spoke. “Plane crash survivors? When did you go down, and where?”

“Gen/Air Flight 21225, and we went down … it must be about eleven months ago now,” said Joe. “As for where, that’s a good question. It was in a storm, we were near an island, and we made our way to shore in the life raft. We befriended the islanders, they helped us build this boat, and we sailed here. Can you take us somewhere we can tell you more?”

“Flight 21225?” said the policeman. “They’ve been looking for any survivors for months! What are your names?”

“I’m the pilot, Joe Nebrinski,” said Joe, and he introduced everyone else. “Two other survivors elected to stay behind on the island.”

“Amazing!” the policeman said. Some of the other officers talked with him, then he said, “With your permission, we’d like to tow you to our dock and take your official statements.”

“I have no problem with that,” said Joe. There was general agreement, so the survivors threw a tow line to the police craft, which slowly towed them to the town’s port.

The Docking crew were totally amazed as the twin masted Tri-hull came to the dock and tossed a line to the foreman. The Trimaran was, for all intents and purposes, as modern an ocean going craft as any made in the USA. The men quickly and efficiently tied off the craft fore and aft, before laying a simple boarding ramp made of wood for the survivors to disembark their craft.

As one of the harbor patrol police came to the small group, all the people looked on with big eyed amazement at the half naked men and women dressed totally in animal skins and moccasins.

Dawn whispered to Dennis, “I feel like an animal on display. They act like they’ve never seen people dressed in primitive clothing before.”

Dennis looked around and said with a sly tone, “Perhaps it’s not the fact they are primitive clothes, mayhaps it’s because such beautiful women and men are standing on the dock half nude?”

Dawn gasps as her eyes got large. She swats Dennis on the shoulder as she sniffs playfully.

The officer said, “If you fine folks would follow me to the office. I think there are many people who would like to hear your stories.”

As the officer led them to his office, the small group looked around at the shops and things the small island town offered. It was easy to see the thieve’s market and hear the many vendors hawking their wares to the passing folk.

Joe said, “I would like to stop at that eating place and get some of their food … after a bath and a change of clothes, of course.”

Everyone laughed as the officer escorted them into his office and offered them seats. He rummaged around until he had enough chairs for all of them to be seated comfortably.

The Officer said, “My name’s Officer Lewis. You can just call me Lew … everyone else does. Would you like some coffee or … something to eat?”

Janice answered, “Coffee!! OMG!!! yes! I would love some coffee. Sugar, no cream … and hot please.”

Torrie replied, “I would like some iced sweet tea with lime if you could. It’s been so long.”

The rest wanted a soda of various sorts.

Lew asked, “No one’s hungry? I’m surprised. Most we find adrift on the sea are starving and suffering from severe exposure. We haven’t had a group … build a boat and sail themselves back to civilization before. That’s a new one. Especially on a boat as elegant as the one you made.”

Before the officer left, he placed recording devices in front of each one of the survivors, a pen, and a small stack of paper.

Lew said, “I would like each of you to write, and say into that recorder your account of what happened. We have already contacted the officials at Gen/Air and notified them of your rescue. They are sending someone here as soon as they can arrange it. I have been asked to make sure each of you make a complete statement with all the details. A whole lot of people are very happy to hear you have turned back up.”

With this, Lew turned and left them alone with their thoughts.

Having talked about what to say during the voyage, each one of them gave their account to the tape recorder.

“My name is Joe Nebrinski, pilot of Gen/Air Flight 21225. We were en route as usual, about 300 miles due south-southwest of Honolulu, when …”

“The storm came up very suddenly -- not that unusual over those seas during that time of year, but this one’s magnitude was. Suddenly it was all around us, with very little warning,” said Jay.

“I tried to plot us a course around it,” said Dennis, “but very soon there was no ‘around it.’ Joe tried steering to one side, but there was nothing there but more storm.”

“Soon we were feeling its effects,” said Torrie. “The cabin was shaking, and people were getting nervous. Then there was a terrible noise from the left wing. I looked out the window and saw it actually separating from the plane. I think I started screaming right about then.”

“I tried to calm everyone down and initiate water landing preparations,” said Sam. “I’ve had the emergency training, like all employees of Gen/Air have, but I’ve never had it really happen before. Still, I tried to do everything by the book. I have no idea how they did it, but Jay and Joe somehow got us down with only minor impact -- and we were pretty high up to start with.”

“This was actually the fourth time I’ve been in a plane that had to make a water landing,” said Dawn, “but this is the only time the plane was actually in danger of coming apart. Still, I did what I did every other time -- protected my head and braced for impact. And when the impact came,”

“When the impact came,” said Diane, “we were all thrown forward so hard -- I’m amazed the seats didn’t pull out of the floor. I guess they bolt them down really strong. But there were a lot of screams and shouts, and the plane’s walls broke open, and water started coming in, and we were still moving!”

“Sam took action first, as you’d expect,” said Janice, “since he was trained for it, throwing open the emergency doors and deploying the auto-inflating life raft, ushering people into it, the closest ones first. I grabbed my seat cushion, since he’d told us it was a flotation device, and tried to make sure everyone near me got to the raft first.” She left out the part where she’d spent quite a bit of time in the ocean after the raft had floated away from the plane, finding as many survivors as she could and steering them toward the raft.

“I truly thought I was going to drown,” said Jean, “but then suddenly there was a life ring right in front of me. It was Joe -- he had seen me and had thrown it to me. I grabbed it, and he hauled me in with the rope that was attached to it. He saved my life.” She left out the part where something, probably Janice, had pushed her toward the raft.

And thus they told their tales, about how they had found the island and the small lagoon that turned out to be full of orcas, and how the natives had found them and brought them to the more hospitable side of the island. They left out the part about their becoming babies in order to cross holy ground -- none of them had thought the investigators would believe that part of it, and besides, they didn’t want crazy people swarming the island looking for the cure for aging. Over the next few months they had learned the natives’ ways and helped them, and the natives had helped them build the boat that had brought them here. Dennis had taught them all how to navigate at sea -- a hobby of his, but not one that he’d ever thought would be tested in an emergency. The natives showed them their maps, and told them of the ruins of the rudimentary Japanese air base Janice had explored. They left out the Amelia Earhart connection as well -- it was another part of the story that just wouldn’t be believed.

All of the returnees told their version of the story. The view points differed enough no one suspected they had rehearsed what they were going to say for almost a month as they helped build the trimaran.

Janice had left for a short space, when she finally returned, she was wearing a skin tight pantsuit that zipped up the front and shiny black leather shoes. Everyone looked at her in amazement as she walked in.

Janice said as she walked around and hugged each one and gave them a kiss on their cheeks, “I must be on my way. I have … serious unfinished business to attend to. I have rented out a small aircraft. I will be leaving in a few minutes to go … and complete what I must do. Love to all, and I will contact you as soon as I can.”

Without further adu, Janice turned and left the office.

Joe said, “Well, now. I don’t think I had ever pictured Janice in an outfit like that.”

Jay nodded his head, “I think she looked better in that animal skin bikini.”

Dawn remarked, “Just like a man … only thing you noticed was … what she didn’t have on.” She crosses her arms and glares.

Jay commented, “But, Dawn … you were just as adorable in your bikini.”

There seemed to be tension in the room for an instant, before all of them burst out laughing.

Janice leaned against the wall for an instant to catch her breath. That was one of the hardest goodbyes she had ever had to do. After a few more seconds, she turned and walked out the main office door and headed towards the small airport.

The petty cab she had hired took only a few minutes to cover the mile. She paid the man in cash.

As she turned to enter the main concourse of the small airport, a man in a tweed jacket and sunglasses approached and said, “I hope the … arrangements meet with resource’s approval.”

Janice looked at the man and smiled, “Agent Tomey … how nice to see you.”

He smiles a mirthless smile, “Things have gotten really heated since you vanished. No other resource has been able to penetrate Kandavu since the North Koreans established a base on the eastern island.”

“Namarati will let me in,” said Janice, “and he will let me out, too. It’s all part of the plan.”

“If you can do that,” said Agent Tomey, “you’re going to be looking at a fat promotion.”

“If I can do that,” said Janice, “and if I live, I’m looking to retire. I think I have this one last mission in me, and that’s it.”

“If it works out … maybe it can be arranged. Now, if there’s nothing else you need … I shouldn’t waste any more of your time. Good luck.”


The Chinese delegate Xin Ki looked in the mirror with amazement. Hair had sprouted on his formerly-bald head overnight, and his gray hairs were gone. He now had a full head of jet black hair. Wrinkles had vanished from his face. He looked like he had looked when he was … about 35, he’d have said. And all of this after a dose of some sort of medicine that Namarati had supplied, followed by a good night’s sleep.

He mused as he looked at his younger image. What island magic potion was this? He had tried traditional Chinese medicine, he had tried shou wu chih, but they were nothing like this.

Legend said that the first Emperor, Qin Shi Huang, had heard tales that there was an island in the sea to the east, and on that island was a mountain where the immortals lived forever thanks to their Elixir of Life. He had sent his court sorcerer Xu Fu twice on expeditions to find Penglai Island, but he had never found it. Instead, he had discovered Japan.

Since then, many emperors had died drinking poison that their alchemists told them was a magical life-prolonging elixir. But this … this could not be denied. As long as the effects did not rapidly vanish, he reminded himself. It could still be some sort of trick. But if it wasn’t …

If it wasn’t, the Premier would stop at nothing. He was an old man, and Namarati held the secret of youth, not to mention an island chain with significant strategic value. The North Koreans had Namarati’s favor for the moment. That would have to change. The delegate would be offering Namarati some significant incentives.


Janice flew toward Kandavu without stealth, without guile. She had only one plan -- well, she had a few backup ideas in case of emergency, because she always did. Will this work? she thought.

The answer came unbidden. He needs more, came a familiar voice, whispering among her thoughts. He will do anything to get it.


In a very large room with a large round table in the middle, a group of Chinese men were loudly discussing the fact they all looked 30 years old after taking that medicine Namarati had given them and sleeping the night.

Namarati walked in and said with an arrogant tone, “Well, gentlemen, Seems I have found the island of Penglai your legends speak about and the elixir of life.”

One of the men turned. It was Xin Ki. It was kind of hard to tell now that they weren’t old men anymore.

Xin Ki said with incredulity in his voice, “Th … this is so … incredible. I haven’t felt this wonderful for many years. I have even regained my lost fingers.”

Xin Ki held up his left hand and showed the 2 middle fingers were there once more.

Namarati chortled for a second, “Seems I have the formula. If your Leaders want access to it, I want access to nuclear cruise missiles. Preferably with those … hydrous warheads for independent multiple target acquisition. I have the launchers, just not the warheads I want.”

Xin Ki said softly after regaining control of himself, “The Emperor would give anything to obtain the elixir. He also wants … access to some of the perimeter islands for bases. There’s also another matter, the North Koreans. They are sort of allies, but not ones we want next door.”

Namarati said, “ They agreed to come and see my evidence first without question. They had no reservations on giving me the mobile missile system and the cruise missiles I have now. Your Premiere, on the other hand, has had a few discussions about my sanity behind my back that I have become aware of. I think he should consider my proposal.”

About that time, an impeccably uniformed Officer entered the room, walked quickly up to Namarati and snapped to sharp attention with a loud click of his heels. After a smart salute, he said, “Sir, we have a small unarmed civilian jet on radar. They are requesting permission to land. They … also say they have a message from someone named … Ooma-nu.”

Namarati’s eyes get big as he gasps, “Wh … who did you say?”

“Ooma-nu, sir. What should we do?”

Namarati said sharply, “By all means, allow them to land. Launch a fighter escort immediately. Make sure they land at the secure bunker. I have a few words to say to whoever that might be.”

The officer saluted sharply, did an about face with a sharp heel click, and left.

Namarati smiled inwardly. So, it comes to me now after all these years. He takes the necklace around his neck and looks at it. There were now only 2 pods left. He desperately needed more. These had gotten old over the last 60 years. None of the top scientists he had hired could decipher the genetic code or the chemical mixture to reproduce it artificially.


Janice landed her plane at Namarati’s private airport as directed and stepped out of the cabin. There were immediately soldiers standing to either side of her -- wearing elaborate ceremonial uniforms, of course, but they were still there to guard her. Or rather to guard Namarati against anything she might do. Janice was quite aware that Namarati was extremely paranoid, as any dictator would have to be.

The guards escorted her across the tarmac and showed her to a black limousine, which took her to a lavishly-decorated palace, its white stones supporting gold-framed windows and jewel-encrusted gables. Janice thought it looked horribly gaudy, but doubtless Namarati had had it built as a sign of his wealth and power, not of his good taste in architecture. She was again escorted up the wide walkway, into the palace, and into an interior room that looked as if it had been decorated with quantity rather than quality in mind.

“Very good,” said a voice that Janice had only heard on recordings. “Leave us.” Namarati entered the room. The beaded shell necklace with its seed pods that he wore seemed out of place with his military uniform, replete with decorations. His hair was black, but his face was etched with lines. She recognized the seed pods, but either he wasn’t using them himself or they’d done all they could for him.

“Are you deaf?” he asked his guards, irritated, when they didn’t immediately obey. “Leave us! At once!” They looked at each other, then left the room, closing the only obvious door. Janice had a few guesses as to where there might be hidden doors as well, but they probably wouldn’t be necessary.

“You are Namarati,” said Janice. “It has been a long time.”

“I don’t remember you,” Namarati said, taking a seat at the large table in the center of the room. “But my men told me that you mentioned the name of Ooma-nu. I remember her.”

“I am of … another generation,” Janice said. “Please call me Janice. Everyone does. Ooma-nu is well. I have come from the island with an offer for you.”

“An offer, eh?” Namarati said cautiously. “What is it that you think I want, Janice? And what do you want in return?”

“You are old,” Janice said frankly. “Very much older than you’re letting on. From the looks of the airplanes at your airport, you have many guests, and I’m guessing that you’re trying to interest them in the seed pods on your necklace and their contents. But you’d be using them yourself instead … if they still worked on you.”

“You know a lot,” Namarati said. “Pray to your gods that you don’t know too much.”

“I say only what I have seen with my eyes,” said Janice. “You need more of the pods, both for yourself and for your political dealings. And you know there is only one place to get them. I imagine you have tried to find it. And I know you haven’t.”

“So you are here to offer me more pods, as some kind of deal?” Namarati asked. “What could you possibly want in return?”

“That is not the offer,” said Janice. “I have been sent to offer you your youth again. But, in order to have it, you would have to come with me. You know the ritual only works properly on the island, and you may only return if I take you there.”

There, that was it, all the cards on the table. He would take it or leave it.

“I see,” Namarati said. Janice could see the wheels turning in his mind. “How do I know you’re not some agent -- maybe American or Russian -- and that you won’t just murder me as soon as we’re alone?”

“For one thing,” Janice said, “wouldn’t such agents have been able to do so as soon as your guards had closed that door?” She nodded to the door through which the guards had left. “You don’t believe I’m one of them, anyway, or you’d never have met with me alone. I doubt you even have anyone watching this room, do you? You don’t want anyone to know the secret. Only you.” Janice knew there wasn’t anyone watching them -- not only hadn’t she noticed any of the telltale signs of hidden cameras or peepholes, Namarati hadn’t exhibited any of the telltale signs that he knew they were being watched. “But in case you still have doubts -- a gift for you.”

She reached into no pockets, and she carried no purse or handbag, but she suddenly produced a seed pod, appearing in her hand, laying it on the table. It had been up her sleeve -- a simple conjuror’s trick. “It’s fresh.”

Namarati seized the seed pod, holding it up, examining it, even smelling it. “It’s real. It can’t be -- not unless you really came from the island. It’s real.”

“So you know, we are serious,” said Janice. “We of the island wish to give you back your youth. But the only way is for you to return to it, and the only way that can happen is if I take you there. And you must come alone -- or the island will not let even me find it.”

“I … see,” said Namarati. He paused, thinking. “I will come with you,” he said. “But give me one day to prepare. I will make rooms ready for you.” He got up and went to the door, opening it. No guards were in sight until he clapped his hands. “Tell the servants to prepare a room for my guest,” he said. “She is an ambassador from … a very important island.”

“At once, Admiral,” said the guards, and marched off.

Namarati was very cordial as he invited her to a formal dinner party. Janice wasn’t sure she wanted to attend, seeing as she hadn’t really brought the proper clothes for such an affair.

Namarati took it all in stride as he said, “Clothes are no problem, Janice.” He picks up a phone and punches a button, “Sal? This is Namarati … I need a really pretty and elegant ball gown for a young lady. Can you arrange it in the next 30 minutes? You can? Great. She will meet you in the green room.”

Namarati rings a small silver bell that was sitting on the table. A woman in a very short, ruffled French Maid’s outfit arrived and curtsied, “Yes, M’Lord?”

“Please escort Miss … Janice to the green room for a measurement and fitting. Sal will be waiting for you to arrive.”

She curtsied once again and turned to Janice, “If you will follow me, it’s this way.”

She led the way through the garishly decorated and furnished palace. When they arrived, a very effeminate man met them at the door.

“Hi there. You must be Janice.” He takes her by the hand and leads her into the room, “This way. I’ll have a gown for you within the hour.”

He measured her with professional precision, made some notes, and said, “A bit leaner and more muscular than what I usually see, but no problem at all -- now shoo, I have work to do! Come back in an hour.” He made dismissing gestures at Janice with his fingers.

Janice was interested in what sort of “preparations” Namarati was going to make in the day he wanted, but it was a bit difficult to listen in on him when she didn’t know where he’d gone. Still, now that she was free, she wandered about the palace and its grounds, observing.

“I can’t believe this!” groused a distinguished looking Asian man in Korean. “We give him a missile control system and now he’s kicking us off the island just because the Chinese gave him a better offer! Why, we should …” The man and his companion walked out of hearing range around a corner.

Janice went outside and found a beautiful garden … well, the plants and flowers were beautiful, but the gaudy marble and gold fountains and statuary detracted from it all, in her opinion. There were two men speaking Chinese here, one of them saying, “The Premier has been advised. Things are going very well. It looks like promotions for both of us!” They noticed Janice and said, in English, “Oh, good afternoon, Ma’am, how do you do?”

“Quite well, thank you,” Janice responded, also in English. “I trust your negotiations are proceeding favorably?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “The outcome should be beneficial for both China and Kandavu. Everyone concerned should be pleased.”

“I doubt the North Koreans will be,” Janice said, “but after all, what can they do? I’m sure I couldn’t imagine. In any case, isn’t this garden beautiful? I’m going to have a look at some of the statues.”

As she drifted away, she heard them saying, again in Chinese, “Maybe she’s right -- we shouldn’t ignore the North Koreans. They may be planning something in retaliation. We should be careful. We don’t want to mess this up.”

She pretended to look at the statues, then caught a glimpse of the Koreans through a window and re-entered the palace through a nearby doorway. “... if we have to abandon our base, we’ll leave a surprise there that Namarati will never forget!” she heard them hissing in hushed tones, again in Korean. Then, in English, they said to Janice as they noticed her, “Ah, pardon us, Ma’am, we were just discussing the negotiations.”

“Of course,” Janice said with a smile. “I hope things are going well.”

“As … well as could be hoped, under the circumstances,” said the delegate.

“I do hope Namarati’s decisions haven’t disappointed you,” she said. “After all, I’m sure he had little choice. The Chinese must have made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. They seem to want what he has to offer very badly, and with their resources … well, let’s just say I wouldn’t want to get in their way. Anyway, good afternoon, gentlemen … I have to see about my evening gown for the ball.”

As she walked away, she heard them whispering, “Maybe it’s not Namarati we should be focusing on -- she might be right. He might have had no choice in the matter.”

Janice smiled. Perhaps she could take Kandavu out of the political equation altogether and make this just one more quarrel between China and North Korea.


Namarati held the seed pod in his sweaty palm. He couldn’t believe it. He knew this pod was still green and not fully matured. It had to have been picked very recently because the sap still leaked slightly from the stem end. He put the stem to his lips and tasted the sweet nectar.

An intense rush ran all the way through him to his soul as he felt the wrinkles on his face and hands smooth away. His pods were many years old and dry. They had lost much of their original potency. He also knew that if he used this entire pod, it would only revert him back to a young man in his early 20’s. He wanted a full reversion with his mind still intact … he had seen it many years past on that island when a young woman dressed as an otter performed the ritual.

He made several phone calls. While he was in the middle of the last call, a young man dressed in green hospital scrubs entered the room. He carried a small surgical bag with him.

The man said, “Hi, I’m Doctor Garith. I’m here to take a genetic sample and insert the RFID chip under your skin as requested so we can identify you immediately under any circumstances.”

Namarati looked sceptical, “What if it is removed and implanted into someone else?”

The man laughed as he opened his case, “Doesn’t matter. It will be genetically encoded to your body. If it is removed, it will be incompatible with anyone elses genome.”

Namarati sat back and watched as the doctor rubbed something very cold on his arm. Where it touched his skin rapidly became numb and the sensation ended. The Doctor took a scalpel and made a 2 inch incision on his arm, then inserted something the size of a grain of rice, along with several other markers. He took something that looked like a glue gun … and basically glued the skin back together. It left a scar so slight, it was almost impossible to tell it wasn’t part of his natural skin lines it blended so well.

The doctor then gathered up the blood and skin samples and put them in a sealed sterile container.

Dr. Garith said, “There, now we add your genetic uniqueness to the database, and we will always know it’s you … or at least …. parts of you, no matter what happens.”

With this, the doctor gathered everything up and left. Namarati made another call. He wanted to make sure his genetic seal was on all his assets. That way, no one could access them without him.


After some fussing, Namarati’s tailor pronounced Janice’s dress ready, and soon it was time for dinner and dancing. Janice noticed that there was no Mrs. Namarati, but he did seem to have no shortage of beautiful women in his palace. Power and wealth attracted others wishing to share in it, and the powerful and wealthy could have their pick.

Janice found herself dancing with Namarati at one point -- the music was eclectic, from African and Caribbean world music to European classical to the latest popular tunes. “I see you’ve used the pod,” said Janice, noticing that his deeply wrinkled face was now smooth. “That’s all I have, however, and one single pod is … limited.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m coming with you to the island tomorrow. It won’t matter then.”

“Have you made your preparations for your return, then?” Janice asked.

“Yes,” said Namarati. “Everything should go smoothly.”

Janice heard that voice in her head again. Do not worry, it said. We watch.


Once again, as on all previous nights before something was to happen, her dreams were filled with specters. This time was different, the voices and visions weren’t obscure and just out of reach of understanding. This time, she saw plainly the result should she fail to bring Namarati to Infant Island. She saw not only the Chinese giving him nuclear capability on a monstrous scale, but the Russians were desperately vying for his favor and offered many advanced fighters, Ships, weapons, and even several newer versions of their Squalus attack submarine.

It was super fast, ultra quiet in attack stealth mode, and even had ASROC Nuclear ability and tracking. The resulting conflagration left very little of the earth’s surface liveable.

On the other side of these dreams, was the foreknowledge of what was going to happen as soon as Namarati was safely on the island. Janice giggled softly in her sleep. A very familiar voice rumbled through her mind, “The end is for the Most High Priestess to choose. Anyway you choose … is appropriate. The threat ends.”


The Sun dawned, waking Janice, who got up and did the traditional sunrise dance and sang the traditional sunrise song. This little ritual now made her feel better about the day and its importance in world history, even though most of the world’s population had no idea.

She looked out at the ocean through the windows of her room -- it was far below. There was probably no way to take a morning swim. Namarati’s guards probably would not allow it. She sighed. She took a bath instead.

When she was done and dressed, in the clothes she had worn when she arrived, she went looking for breakfast. She didn’t have to look far. A guard in the hallway said to her, “Breakfast for guests is available in the dining room, Ma’am,” without her asking.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Just doing my duty, Ma’am,” he said. He didn’t even meet her gaze.

Namarati eventually showed up for breakfast, and by that time Janice had already been speaking with the Chinese and Korean delegations, in English, as she didn’t want them to know that she knew their languages, and speaking in the Kusaiean-like Infant Island tongue was unlikely to get her anywhere. Japanese might have worked, but English was really the lingua franca of international negotiations.

“Just what are they planning, I wonder?” the Chinese delegates were saying to each other. But to Janice they merely said, “Ah, the stress of these negotiations. We are always worrying about what tactics the other delegations will use and how to counter them.”

“It sounds absolutely nerve-wracking,” Janice said. “I can’t imagine what it must be like, always wondering whether they might stab you in the back … figuratively speaking, of course.”

“You don’t suppose they would actually try to murder us?” said one of the delegates quietly, in Chinese, which Janice pretended not to understand, while one of the others laughed nervously and said to Janice, “Yes … figuratively, of course, heh.”

Janice smiled as she heard the Chinese begin to speculate about what the North Koreans might do as a messenger showed up and informed everyone that the Russians were dispatching a Diplomat to these negotiations and would be arriving in a few days.

Janice wasn’t smiling now as the memories of her dream returned full force. Janice was ready to leave, she sure hoped Namarati would be inclined to hurry their departure. She really didn’t want the Russians here bending his ear with massive bribes before they left. Janice already saw the North Koreans and the Chinese were starting to bicker. She smiles at this. If the ongoing semi-hostile relationship between the two of them erupted, most of this issue would end itself after a few missile exchanges between the two countries … China, of course, reducing the North Koreans to smoldering piles of radioactive ash. Janice was sure this wouldn’t bode well for world relations either.

Janice daintily dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a lacy napkin, “I … need to be getting my aircraft ready for the trip. We have to pick up a sailing vessel to finish out the last leg of the trip. If we don’t, the Island will never allow itself to be found.”

Namarati frowned when she said this. He didn’t want any of his secret to leak out … and this was one such thing.”

The North Korean Delegate’s eyes twitch for an instant. What Janice had said about an Island not letting itself be found … He said out loud, “What Island would that be, ma’am?”

Janice smiled as she quickly replied, “The one where I am the Most High Priestess, Islanda Infans .”

This time, Namarati showed total flabbergasted awe when he heard who Janice was.

“N-now, we should probably be getting ready for our trip, Janice,” Namarati said nervously, not wanting more questions to arise. He took her aside, where they spoke quietly just outside the doorway. “Where were you wanting to land your plane and transfer to a sailboat?”

“Where I rented the plane from,” Janice said. “Tarawa, in Kiribati.”

“I, uh …” Namarati began.

Janice knew he hated not being in control, and relished this a bit, but if she pushed him too far he might pull out of the deal. She also knew that he was persona non grata in Kiribati and most other nations of the area, likely to be arrested or possibly shot on sight, so they would have to be discreet.

“Don’t worry,” Janice said. “If we leave this afternoon, it will be evening when we arrive, and we can transfer to the boat under cover of darkness. And as long as you don’t wear your uniform, no one will have any idea who you are. Who would expect to see the great Namarati out of uniform? On Tarawa?”

“It is … as you say,” he said. “No one will know it is I. And you can sail this boat?”

“I helped build the boat of which we speak,” said Janice. “I sailed it to Tarawa. I can sail it back.” I had help, of course, Janice thought to herself.

And you will have help on the way home, came that familiar voice.

Tarawa’s air traffic controller sounded sleepy as they received their landing instructions. Janice smiled as she heard the slight slurping noise has he drank a cup of tea or coffee before he said, “Use runway 66 niner south. Come right 23.67 degrees north by northwest. Sorry folks, this is a small airport on a tropical island. Once you’re on the ground, it will take me a few minutes to get to the chief’s station with the wands. Tower out.”

Janice brought the small jet in with precision as Namarati watched with an expression of approval. He only wished he had pilots as good as this woman. There was a small warning light going off in Namarati’s mind. Something wasn’t exactly right … although for the life of him he couldn’t explain what it was.

Janice slowly taxied up to the small air station. There were several large corporate jets parked on the tarmac close by, not to mention many puddle jumpers and a few seaplanes. Janice smiled as she saw the lights of the Chief’s wands dance across the grass to a parking location near a small hangar. She followed the chief’s signals and brought the craft into the slot perfectly. The sounds of the engines winding down shrilled through the cabin as Janice undid her harnesses and began shutting down systems.

Namarati said with an air of suspicion, “Not bad … for a woman who claims to be the Most High Priestess of a primitive South Pacific Island.”

“I am older than I look,” she said, “and I have lived many lives. Now we must find the boat.”

“Find it?” Namarati asked. “You don’t know where it is?”

“I know where it was,” she said. “With any luck, it is still there.”

Janice dropped the keys to the plane in the rental agency’s overnight drop box, and Namarati followed her as they nonchalantly left the airport via a hole in the broken fence. No point going through customs inspections -- such as they were -- and having people ask uncomfortable questions.

“Where are we going?” Namarati asked. “This -- that’s the city’s police headquarters! Are you insane?”

“Not at all,” Janice said. “That’s where the boat is. Fancy a swim?”

“Lead on,” said Namarati, gritting his teeth.

Janice knew he was only enduring all this so he could conquer the island and obtain an infinite supply of the youth potion. She removed her shoes, stuffed them into her outfit’s pockets, and waded into the water, in sight of the police dock where she could see the trimaran moored in the fading twilight. She swam out toward it.

“That’s the boat?” Namarati said. “You can sail the ocean in that?”

“With your help,” Janice said. “Now quiet -- do you want them to hear us?”

Janice eased her body over the gunwale slowly. She wallowed onto the main hull’s deck and crawled along it. She watched as the lone guard walked slowly up to the naked bulb light hanging from an old decrepit post.

He glanced at his watch as he removed a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and lit one. He took a deep draw and slowly let it out in a long exhale. He casually flicked the ash before he moved slowly off on the rest of his rounds.

Janice quietly came back to the far side and helped Namarati on board. She beckoned him into the cabin.

Janice said quietly, “I will remove the mooring lines fore and aft, I need you to raise at least one of the mainsails. I will be able to help in a few minutes. We probably need a couple of Jibs too because of the way the wind is blowing.”

Namarati said nothing as he began to unfurl one of the mainsails and slowly raise it. Janice, meanwhile, had picked up a machete and chopped the tether lines loose.

She began to hoist one of the fore jibs. The main sail fluffed in the stiffening breeze before it made a loud cracking noise and billowed out to its full capacity. Janice looked back at the receding shadow of the guard back on the dock, but he appeared not to have heard. The Tri-hull began to gain speed rapidly as Namarati grabbed the tiller. He was amazed to discover it seemed to be locked into position. Janice arrived about that time and showed him the relieving tackle and how it worked and how to set it and remove it. Namarati was very impressed.

As Janice took the helm and steered the sleek tri-hull from the lagoon, Namarati took a short nickel tour of the boat. For a ship built by natives on a primitive island somewhere unknown to modern man, this was a top notch yacht type vessel of truly high quality.

Namarati returned to the tiller pit and said, “I’m rather impressed with this ship. If I didn’t know better, I would swear some place in … Maine or something in the USA built this.”

Janice laughed, “Sorry, a crew of very meticulous women made everything here by hand. Ropes, sheets, sails … everything.”

Namarati looked around once more as he nodded his head approvingly, before he started to raise the aft mainsail. The breeze had begun to turn into a wind as it started to whistle through the rigging. The tri-hull hoisted its outer hull from the water as it gracefully sliced through it like a hot knife through warm butter leaving very little wake behind.

The boat sailed through the night, going swiftly eastward, according to Janice’s sightings of the stars.

“Your charts … they don’t show the island in one place,” Namarati said.

“They’re not my charts,” she said. “Some were made by the Japanese military during the war; some were made by Americans before that. And … they both thought they were somewhere else.” She had a good idea where they’d been when they started out, and as long as the island didn’t shift position before they got there, they’d find it.

“This is a strange wind,” he said. “It’s usually not this strong this season … and usually not out of the west like this.”

“Yes,” said Janice. “It’s a bit odd … but I don’t consider it too terribly odd. Considering.”

“Considering … yes,” said Namarati. “The island … we are following the instructions you were sent with, so it is cooperating. Or did you send the instructions yourself?”

“I may be what they call the Most High Priestess,” said Janice, “but I can still be sent. I have my job to do. My role may be the most circumscribed of anyone’s. And yet I feel the most free.”

“Riddles! Why does everyone speak in riddles when they speak of that island?”

“I find it the most straightforward place on Earth,” said Janice calmly as they sped along through the night.


The dawn started to approach, the eastern sky lightening, a deep red starting to shimmer on the few clouds on the distant horizon, and if Janice wasn’t mistaken, there was a faint blue shape blocking the light out there. One thing they didn’t have was a spyglass -- glassblowing and lens grinding was a craft the islanders really didn’t pursue. But Janice really thought it looked like land -- and familiar land at that.

“Is that it?” said Namarati about 15 minutes later, squinting into the coming sunrise. “I think I see land.”

“That’s it,” said Janice, looking again. It really did look like the island now. She was a bit surprised at how friendly she felt toward it, how much returning to it felt like coming home. Maybe she was indeed from here.

“So … you never told me,” said Namarati, “what do your people get out of offering me this … chance?”

Finally he was looking the gift horse in the mouth, thought Janice. Or perhaps he thought that now that he had his prize in his hands and knew she wasn’t lying about returning to the island, he could afford to be impertinent. “It closes a circle,” she said. “It began when you first found the island -- and now the circle turns again.” She hoped that was cryptic enough.

“More riddles,” he said. “No, really, you must know that I am trying to exploit the island’s power, to live forever -- even to choose who lives forever and who does not. Surely you cannot have missed that on your visit to Kandavu.”

“I saw,” Janice said. “But the island’s power, if you call it that, cannot be exploited in that way. The island touched you -- you didn’t touch it.” This was actually pretty easy. She could speak in riddles all day if he wanted her to.

“But I found -- no, you will just continue being incomprehensible,” he said, checking himself before arguing. “What are you doing?”

“I am singing the sun up,” she said. “Care to join me? We can’t do the full dance on this boat, because there isn’t really room, but I can teach you the song.”

“No, thanks,” Namarati said. “Sing and dance all you want. Someone has to keep a hand on the tiller.”

“Suit yourself,” said Janice, and began the turning and the arm gestures and the delightful song of the morning, just as the dawn broke over the horizon.

With the sun well above the horizon, Janice could plainly see it was indeed land … a rather large island far off in the distance. Janice placed the tiller into cruise position, then went to the fore mast and opened a large chest. Namarati watched with interest until he realized Janice was unpacking a spinnaker. The wind was blowing right for them to chase the wind. He went and helped Janice unpack, then cleco ring the sail to the sheets. Janice returned to the tiller and took control as Namarati raised it. It filled gracefully with the wind as it billowed out. The tri-hull gracefully jumped forward as the wind took the spinnaker and pushed them along faster.

Dark had almost fallen before Janice saw the port torch of Kukol, the Infant’s home port. Janice expertly guided the sleek craft onto the beach, then started lowering the last of the sails.

Janice said softly, “Follow me. Don’t dawdle. If you get lost, terrible things can happen to an outsider.”

Namarati sneers, “Another of those … stupid superstitions again.” as he followed Janice closely.

Janice smiled inwardly as she imagined many different things the ...’gods’ … could possibly do to him. The trail was a long one, but for some reason that Janice didn’t even try to explain, it didn’t take very long for them to travel to the top of the mountain. Janice had remembered to bring a large pottle of water with her … for the ceremony. She looked up into one of the trees as the leaves began to softly rustle. Looking back with what appeared to be a satisfied smile, was her friend the tree cat. It nodded to her as its bright golden eyes sparkled in the soft rising glow all around.

Namarati became very quiet and apprehensive. The jungle had become deathly silent as all the vines and brush appeared to part for Janice as she passed. Before he could reach the clear spot that Janice walked through, the brush would snap back, causing him much aggravation. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she was commanding them to make way.

They finally reached the summit of the mountain. Everything was aglow. The only sound was the soft whispers of the leaves moving without the aid of a breeze. Namarati looked around in wide eyed amazement at the glowing, whispering trees. He then spotted over a dozen predatory tree cats walking up, then sitting with their tails curled around them. He looked to Janice and saw her holding her hands out, palm down, towards them all, and they seemed to obey her.

Namarati was now concerned; he knew there was more to Janice than flesh and blood. He watched her as she poured water from that nasty stomach thing she had with her into a depression in the ground.

It was then that he realized that among all the huts he had seen at the seaside village, and the second village they’d passed through on the way up through the jungle, he’d seen not a soul, not one other person. Where were all the people? Was the island deserted?

With a rushing, rustling sound, grass stalks grew from the ground, faster than any plant could really grow -- was he really seeing this? Or had he been dosed with some kind of drug? No, they were vines, stretching and thickening and weaving together, and they weren’t just any vines; they shimmered and glowed with an unearthly light. They wove together more tightly and rose higher and higher until they formed the shape of a great tree, towering above them, showering greenish light down upon the entire island. Faintly they could hear song from below -- human voices, the voices of all the islanders singing together.

“What’s -- what’s going on?” Namarati asked, looking at Janice, who was looking upward at the great tree, awe in her eyes.

“Just what you’d expect -- I’m a priestess, after all. And what do priestesses do? Commune with the gods. It’s in the job description.”

“But -- the tree --”

“The gods have chosen to appear in the form of Tuo-Shashiri, the Great Tree, this evening. It is a sign of great change, momentous growth,” said Janice. “Ah, but what kind of change, and what kind of growth? Only time will tell -- but the time is close at hand.”

Fear replaced his discomfort at this point. He turned and saw the tree cats had blocked the only exit he knew away from here. He could actually hear many whispering voices all around him coming from the soft rustling of the leaves.

Namarati said loudly in fear, “I want to leave! NOW!” From a pocket, he pulled a small automatic pistol and pointed it at Janice.

Namarati realized too late, that there were many vines intertwining around his legs up to his waist. A small vine flashed out fast as lightning, knocking the pistol from his hand, then wrapping around it many times immobilizing it.

Namarati screams. He was totally helpless at this point, unable to move.

A very deep bass voice rumbled across the mountain top, “Welcome home, my child. Far too long you have wandered aimlessly through the earth. We welcome our wayward child on her return.”

Namarati squirms fruitlessly in attempts to escape before he said, “She? Child? I am no child of yours … or hers for that matter.”

Janice suddenly said in a very mystical and solemn voice, “From the time of the beginning, until the time of the ending, the gods commanded us to regress in our dotage and return to the innocence of childhood.”

She had no clue as to why she had said what she did, she just … did. Suddenly, 4 women dressed totally in black robes came into the light from the pitch black. One of them carried her Most High Priestess robes. Another woman in red robes entered with a large clay cup held in front of her with both hands. Janice was mildly surprised to see Manna-lu step into the light, in her otter costume, with the ritual regression bowl in her hands.

As two of the women in black Helped Janice from her civilian clothing into the beautiful and bright white leather outfit, Manna-lu raised the regression bowl above her head and chanted softly, “In this hour of redemption, a lost child is returned to the fold and given a new start.”

She fills the clay cup the woman in red held in her hands. The woman in red turns and approaches Namarati. He struggle even harder, but in vain. The vines held him tight.

Walking over beside Namarati, Janice crooned, “Now, why are you struggling? You’re about to get your every wish. Was this not why you came here -- your youth renewed?”

“I didn’t think it would be like -- this --”

“Like what?” Janice wondered. “What precisely did you think it would be like? Of course there are rituals involved -- ritual brings order to life on this island, and many others as well. The gods don’t personally attend every rebirth, but then, how often does the great Namarati drop in for a visit, hmm? They do you a great honor. The least you can do is accept their gift.” The woman in the red robes held up the cup, offering it to him.

“No, why am I being -- held --” Namarati tried to ask, still struggling against the vines.

“You didn’t think you could change your mind, did you?” asked Janice. “Oh no, once you decided to come with me, you accepted the offer. There was already no turning back; you just didn’t know it yet. Now, though, it’s far, far too late.” Janice was really just making most of this up -- though perhaps the aliens were sending her some mental inspiration; she didn’t know.

“No -- I won’t --” he struggled, even as Janice took the cup from the woman in red and held it up to his lips. He tried to turn his head, to close his mouth, but the vines, continually growing, worked their way in between his lips, forcing them open, forcing his jaws apart. “Aaaaaa!” Janice poured the syrupy white liquid, like coconut milk but thicker, into his mouth, causing him to cough and sputter, but some of it went down his throat, and his body went into spasms, stiffening into one position, then another.

This time the serum is special -- we are now in direct contact with his DNA, said the voice in Janice’s head. We ask for your advice -- what should he become?

As Namarati’s body began to shift, change, and grow smaller, Janice thought back, I’m sure he has some kind of subcutaneous transmitter implanted, trying to lead his military here.

That has been jammed since long before he set foot on this island, the voice of the aliens replied. It will be removed in the process.

Ah. Good. He also no doubt has plans to return to Kandavu and prove his identity, probably using either his DNA or his memories, Janice added.

Then we cannot afford for him to retain either, said the voice. We can randomize his DNA -- should it remain within human parameters? Or should he become a beast? Or a plant?

Janice shuddered. Turning him into a plant -- that would be nearly the same as killing him. Surely the people of this island were better than the like of Namarati. Erasing his memory is as close as I want to get to killing him, she said, even though he has killed many people during his rise to power and was going to kill many more with his decisions. Keep him within human parameters, but with random markers. Leave nothing to indicate that this was Namarati. Give him a clean slate. If you ask my opinion, there it is.

Very well -- that is easy enough, said the aliens. Janice was no molecular biologist, but she didn’t think that even Earth’s greatest genetic experts would find it easy to do what these aliens were about to do.

Namarati’s diminishing body went limp. He looked like an unconscious child of perhaps nine years of age, but he was still growing smaller. Janice could hear snippets of the aliens’ thoughts as they randomized the genetic parameters and postulated what that combination of genes would produce. She wondered what human scientists would give to know how to do this.

The vines gently lowered Namarati to the ground, lifting him out of his clothes, which were now far too large for him, and setting him down on top of them. As he approached the size of a newborn baby, his form changed further. Manna-lu knelt down, reached into a satchel she had brought with her, and said, “Looks like we’ve got a new baby -- this one’ll grow up, though, I think.”

Janice smiled. “Boy or girl?”

Quickly diapering the newborn infant, Manna-lu said, “My, my, it’s a girl -- beautiful dark skin, birthmark on her left ankle … starting to get some hair already, and it’s black. Striking blue eyes, though those often change a few days after birth.” Indeed, the baby had opened her eyes and was looking around in wonder and confusion. “We’ll have to find a mother to adopt this little one,” said Manna-lu.

“Indeed,” said Janice. “She’s a new person -- Namarati is no more, and no trace of him will ever be found. We’ll have to do something with his clothes … oh, no we won’t.” A swarm of crawling insects and worms had emerged from the ground and begun chewing on the pile of clothing Namarati had left behind. The vines’ roots were already burrowing into the remains. They were seeing the decomposition of decades packed into a few seconds. “Anyway, she is not to be held responsible for anything Namarati did. She’s a clean slate.”

Janice returned to Siola with the new infant in her arms. She was so adorable as she kicked her feet and played with her fingers in wonder. Jean and Paulette looked at the new baby, and both of them thought about her from their perspective … Paulette had at least retained her memories and would grow up again with time, while Jean had chosen her regression of her own free will.

When Janice arrived at the village, there were many ceremonial fires burning. The smells of good things to eat filled the air with a heavenly aroma. Janice could see that the villagers were in their festive costumes as they sang, danced, played games, and feasted.

Janice actually saw Cera-la there and came up to her. Cera-la bowed to her knees. Janice picked her from the ground and said, “None of that nonsense please. I’m still just me.”

Cera-la said with awe in her voice as she pointed to the bright glowing green light atop the mountain, “There has been no priestess ever that has invoked a presence of the gods before. Much less … changed all the stars in the heavens so they are totally different.”

Janice looked up, sure enough. All the stars in the heavens were totally strange. No where she looked did she recognise any of the many stars scattered across the heavens. Her mouth fell open in shock as a moon appeared, then another, then a smaller third one glides into the heavens.

Cera-la said softly, “You are indeed the one prophecy spoke. She shall command nature and it will obey her.”

This was overpowering. Janice sat and contemplated what was going on. It was more than obvious the island was no longer in waters she was familiar with in any way. She remembered Ooma-nu about that time and what she had always said about this time. The island would not be where it was previously. It most certainly wasn’t as Janice looked to the new heavens and the glory it bestowed on the island.


In another dimension, and another astral plane, aboard the US Navy destroyer Ulysses, Joe Nebrinski stood next to the navigator on the bridge. “There they are,” he said, pointing to targets appearing on the radar, “right where the satellite recon said they’d be. Kandavu navy’s way too big for a chain of that size.”

“They say they got their ships from the Chinese,” said Joe. “But they’re stopping. They’re just … sitting there.”

“I’ve just gotten new orders,” said the captain. “We’re to hold position and await further instructions. We’re not to engage in hostilities unless they open fire, and the intelligence says they probably won’t -- but they still might, so keep a close eye on ’em.”

“Aye, Captain,” the navigator said.

“Something tells me they’re … looking for something,” Joe said. “Or … someone.”

“Now how in blue blazes did you know that, Joe?” the captain said. “We both got straight As at the academy, but I never took a class in … ESP or whatever. Intelligence says their president’s gone AWOL and they’re out looking for him. The way they’re stopped like that, my gut says they had some kind of tracking device on him and they lost the signal.”

“I’ll just bet they did,” Joe said. “I think … he won’t be a problem anymore.”

“That one woman in your party, the one who vanished? You told me you thought she was some kind of … CIA agent or something.”

“Or something,” said Joe.

“You think she got him?” the captain asked.

“I don’t know, Phil,” said Joe. “You didn’t hear this from me, but if her mission was to take him out … that mission’s as good as accomplished. She is definitely someone you want on your side. I just hope we’ll see her again someday.”

“Joe! Come here!” said Torrie in a loud whisper from a doorway.

Going over to her, Joe whispered to her, “You are not supposed to be up here!”

“Come listen! News on the radio!” Joe went with her to a ready room down the hall, where all the remaining survivors were clustered around a shortwave radio they’d brought with them. He listened.

“... further negotiations. To repeat, reports are coming in that the president of Kandavu, Andu Namarati, has vanished. Officials in his government have apparently leaked the information that he left of his own free will, leaving his vice-president in charge temporarily, intending to return, but that his whereabouts are now unknown. The island nation has been in the news a great deal recently due to Namarati’s attempted power-brokering with such nations as China, Russia and North Korea. With me is Eli Chapman, international politics analyst for the Zeitgeist Institute, a non-partisan think tank.”

“Bill, I would have thought that the more powerful of the nations Namarati had been dealing with, certainly China and Russia if not North Korea, would have been fighting over who would get to annex Kandavu by now -- but I’d have been wrong. All accounts seem to indicate that they’re just … fighting. With each other. The accusations and allegations are flying, all about the schemes and machinations of the various members of the delegations that were sent there. They’ve now all been recalled, and I think they’ll manage not to go to war over this, but it looks like Kandavu is going to somehow remain independent in Namarati’s wake. I’m not really sure what kind of leader they’ll end up with …”

“This just in,” said the news anchor, “the acting president of Kandavu has announced that they would soon hold a special presidential election, according to the nation’s constitution. United Nations observers have been invited to ensure a free and fair election.”

“This is a good sign, Bill,” said Chapman. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen a reduction of tensions in that part of the world.”

Joe stood up and smiled slightly. Deep within his soul, he could feel the island’s call. He realized he too was a child of Islanda Infans. All of them were, in fact, and the mother island didn’t want to lose any of its children.

Dawn said softly, “I wonder if we could ever find the island again? You know? It wasn’t so bad being a little girl and playing on a tropical island.”

Joe and Dennis agreed quickly, Torrie seemed to be hesitant and looked at the floor while her cheeks reddened.

Diane McBride noticed Torrie’s reaction and cuddled up close, threw an arm around her, and cooed softly, “What’s the matter, sweet heart? Does being a little girl scare you?”

Torrie shivered slightly in the older woman’s arms. She nodded her head as she said in a sniffly voice, “I … I’m a very small woman. Everyone treats me like a child all the time. I … I don’t want everyone to see me as a child.”

Diane said softly as she snuggled her nose into Torrie’s lovely smelling hair, “But Torrie, if you would let the women do what they wanted, you would be a child. Their pride and joy, Like Paulette and Jean. Us too, when we were literally growing back up there.”

Torrie sniffled quietly in Diane’s arms. Finally she said, “I would probably love to be their little girl. That’s what scares me so much.”

Everyone looked at Torrie with surprise on their faces. The way she had acted when the otter woman teased her, you wouldn’t have known.

Later that night, all the survivors had retired to their assigned quarters. Nothing special, cramped, stark with only the bare necessities … a small sphere of green light appeared in their rooms. Whispering voices could be heard drifting through the air and an aroma … sweet … intoxicating … home.

“Wh … is this … a dream?” said Dawn groggily.

“If it is,” said Sam, “we’re all having it.”

“What if I’m dreaming that you’re here and you aren’t really?” Dawn asked, still sleepy. “And hey, what are you doing in the women’s quarters?”

“Hello?” said a voice that sounded like it was coming from far down a long hallway. “Can you hear me?”

“That sounds like …” said Dennis.

“Janice?” asked Jay. “Is that you?”

“Are you all there? Are you all together?”

“Yes, we are,” said Joe. “But … where are we?” Looking around, they seemed to be in some sort of featureless blue room.

“I’m … well, I think I’m kind of sending a message to your minds, all at once, and that’s how you’re interpreting it,” said Janice’s voice. “But listen … the island, it’s not exactly where it was anymore, but you can still come back. It’s up to you whether you want to, but when it comes time for the ship you’re on to leave, it’s going to get really foggy really fast. If you’re up on deck when that happens … well that’s the point where you’ll come closest to the gateway, or whatever it’s called … they call it an interzonal osculation boundary. Anyway, stay below decks if you want to stay there, stand on deck in the fog if you want to come back. Everyone here misses you all. I have to go now, but best wishes with whatever you decide.”

“Janice!” said Diane. “We …” But the dream, or trance, or communication, was over. She wasn’t in the strange blue room anymore … she was just in her bunk in the quarters the ship had allowed for the women.

“Did you all have a dream … or was that just me?” asked Torrie in a whisper.

“I’m wide awake,” said Dawn.

They discussed the dream -- and meanwhile, in the men’s quarters next door, they were discussing exactly the same thing.

Finally, all the survivors dressed and entered the narrow hall. Joe said, “I just had this …”

Dawn finished the sentence for him, “Dream? Janice was telling us something about going back to the island?”

They all looked at each other for a few seconds before an announcement came over the squawk box, “Attention all crew; we are getting under way. New heading should take us to Hawaii for a 180 day layover for retrofitting a new weapon’s system.”

Everyone but Torrie scrambled for the ladder to the main deck. Torrie watched for an instant longer before she began running and calling out, “Wait! Guys! Wait for me … I wanna come too.”

Torrie ran out on the main deck and up to the rest of the survivors who were standing next to a rail looking out into the ocean. Off in the short distance, a major fog bank suddenly came into existence.

A shrill bosun’s whistle and an announcement, “Attention all hands, we are coming into inclement weather. Radar visibility less than a mile due to moisture content and ionization.”

Dennis said softly as the fog rapidly formed all around them, “Well, here goes. I sure hope we aren’t turned into babies during the trip.”

Torrie’s eyes get big as she gasps. What it was she said, none of the survivors heard. They all felt a weird wave of intense energy wash over their bodies, the fog bank cleared rapidly, and they all were standing on the beach in Siola next to the Infant. They all could plainly see that some kind of major celebration was in works. They all couldn’t help but notice, the huge tree visible on top of the mountain, and the bright green glow it showered the island with.

Diane McBride said, “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

Dawn, who had been checking out the stars in the sky said, “Toto, I don’t think we’re in the Solar System any more.”

For a few minutes, they all stared in big eyed awe at the three moons in the sky.


“There you are!” came a familiar voice. Janice ran across the beach and started hugging them, beginning with Dawn but joyfully embracing every one of her friends. “Oh, and you all came!” She was in tears with emotion.

“Yea, well, how could we not?” said Dennis, grinning. “We did grow up here, after all.”

“Let me tell you about this place … the weather’s tropical, the oceans are warm, the fish are … unusual … and we might be able to arrange visits home occasionally …”
The islanders were obviously gearing up for a party tonight, and it looked like the survivors were the guests of honor.

Diane saw the woman dressed as an otter. She went to Torrie and patted her on her cute butt and cooed softly, “If 5 is too young for you sweetheart, Just ask to be 9 … or 10 … or even 11. You’re too cute to get old.” With this, Diane kissed Torrie on her nose.

Torrie, for the first time in her life felt really good about herself. “Wow! I can actually be … 11 again …. for as long as I want without that dumb old Uncle being nasty all the time.”

Diane took Torrie by her shoulders and escorted her to Manna-lu.

Manna-lu urned and smiled as she cooed softly, “Have you finaly decided to be the women of Siola’s Babydoll?” She then held the regression bowl up to her.

Torrie wasn’t really sure where the large clay cup had come from. All she knew was it was in her hand. Manna-lu filled the cup and asked softly, “I think … 9 would be a good age for you. Drink up like a good girl.”

Torrie found the cup next to her lips as Manna-lu helped her bring it to her lips. Torrie tingled all over as the wonderfully sweet ambrosia filled her mouth. She took a very large drink and swallowed is a loud gulp.

Manna-lu said quietly, “Here are some clothes that will fit you perfectly.”

Torrie had time to shiver before she found herself standing in way over large clothes. Everyone around her had grown somehow. Janice suddenly poured water over Torrie’s head. She felt a wonderful wave wash through her. No one told Torrie, She was now Siola’s Babydoll for ever. Although if someone had … she really wouldn’t have minded in the least.

As the party continued, Janice told all the survivors, “Welcome home children. We, are now part of this tribe.”

---------------------------------------
~~ The End? ~~
---------------------------------------
Miki Yamuri
 
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Re: Infant Island

Postby TiresiasRex » Mon Oct 13, 2014 4:49 pm

So, Miki: I am now detecting a theme running through most of your recent works: the big adventure story! FIRESTONE, LAPIDEM and now this one....

Not sure about the timing....but was this written before 2012's LAPIDEM? Just curious. (and yes...I see that it was published here in 2014...but many of your series were written earlier...)
TiresiasRex
 
Posts: 57
Joined: Sat Jul 05, 2014 9:05 pm

Re: Infant Island

Postby Miki Yamuri » Wed Oct 15, 2014 10:00 pm

This one is new. Was done inna last few months.
Miki Yamuri
 
Posts: 327
Joined: Mon Jun 23, 2014 3:06 pm

Re: Infant Island

Postby TiresiasRex » Thu Oct 16, 2014 4:34 pm

Cool. And thanks for the clarification!
TiresiasRex
 
Posts: 57
Joined: Sat Jul 05, 2014 9:05 pm


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