Monday, November 24, 2008

Athena's Iniquitous Gift

Athena's Iniquitous Gift
An Urban Fantasy Novel
What started as a serial novel to stretch my suffering creative muscles, has turned into a full blown novel. A planned trilogy of novels in fact.
I am just getting a feel for blogger.com, so please bear with me. If you have any constructive criticism, please send it! I must warn you in advance that covert aggression masquerading as 'help' will be ignored.
Speaking of aggression, here is a blistering review of this novel in progress: http://webfictionguide.com/urban-fantasy/athenas-iniquitous-gift/ you have to scroll down a bit to see it when you get there. Click on the Reviewer's name if you find you want to know more about her and her preferred reading.
Update 10/6/09- I'm back! The summer performing season has ended and I will be working on the novel again. After re-reading the first chapters (oooh, a bit schlocky) I will start with some editing. Patience from my hoards of followers is much appreciated...
This blog and more info about the author are also available at http://www.bebo.com/BenazirC
The time is 2-3 years in the future, the place is a small midwestern community....
Prologue

Tuareg- 'abandoned by God', Arabic term for ancient Berbers

Timbuktu, Africa


Ikken & Izri shade their eyes as they approach Timbuktu. While happy to arrive safely at their destination, they are concerned about the absence of contact with anyone from the once grand trade city.

No children can be heard playing in the dusty streets as they ride in towards the market. No people roam from home to home. While depressed economically, the inhabitants of Timbuktu are usually a lively bunch.

The walls outside of three homes are scrawled with the words 'we have no gold' and 'no gold here'. The brothers can smell smoke and burnt flesh. Rounding a corner onto the market space the brothers find the citizens. Numerous bodies are hanged and piled onto fire pits. A melted pile of cell phones and computer equipment is near the body of the English historian who took up residence several years ago.

As the brothers head away from the cursed town, Izri asks if Ikken recalls the film crew of a few years ago. Ikken responds, “yes, they were looking for ancient gold. Remember Izri, they never found it here. After they interviewed the historian we took them to Morocco to look for coins minted from the gold...”


“We dance reverently upon Mother Earth, taking small soft steps”- a female Lakota traditional dancer describing the differences between male and female dancing styles.

Hastings MI Pow Wow

“The great Iroquois Nation instituted the 7th Generation vote, giving a voice to people seven generations in the future. In this way, the Iroquois make very ecologically sound decisions, because their great grandchildren are directly represented...”

The Anishnabe food wagon is serving up Fry Bread to a large crowd of spectators. The Pow Wow committee found a great advertising agency to promote this teaching Pow Wow to the public. Ads on TV and the local radio station were placed leading to a larger than normal ratio of spectators to participants.

The crowd has a largely tourist bent and they ask the proprietor some hard questions:
“Do the Indians think that this is the end of the world?” “Will you pray for me?” “Are you going to rise up in revolt and take your land back?”

All this the proprietor takes in with her customary easy smile. Pointing to the bottle of honey and great barrels of iced soda and water, she reassures them that she prays for everyone. Peace is the solution required by her ancestors and a revolt at the end of the world would be pretty useless now wouldn't it?

The participants begin to quiet down and approach the outside of the large circular arena. The elderly have a tarp to sit under, and some of the families are under their own tarps. The recorded drum music stops and the announcer calls for the Honor Guard to approach the Eastern Entrance. The Drums are to please take their seats under the central arbor. The spectators are encouraged to sit around the edge of the arena to observe the Grand Entrance of the Veterans. Everyone is asked to stand to honor those represented in the arena. Many spectators roll their eyes sighing impatiently- they are ready to see some dancing, not fat old men parading around.

One by one, the honor guard are asked to place their staffs facing the Eastern entrance. Some of the spectators, looking for more action, step away from the circle to shop with vendors.
A young girl runs directly through the circle, trying to get to her brother on the other side. The participants, mostly Native American, wear patient smiles. The spectators, however, seem quite agitated by the child's lack of supervision.
The ceremony honoring the Vet's continues, with a dance allowing the participants to honor them in the arena. Some of the spectators begin clapping and cheering, which is generally tolerated even though it isn't the norm. Everyone is just a little relieved to have the spectators and participants on the same page.

When the dance is over, the announcer asks everyone to continue standing. Many people have decided to sit down anyway at this point. In fact, some resentful grumbling can be heard.

A second dance begins, for veterans and servicemen of any nationality. The participants have remained standing the entire time, quietly showing their respect for those in the arena. The elderly and infirm have taken periodic breaks to sit down, but also have remained standing for the most part. The spectators are beginning to feel a little put out. This isn't what they came for; this isn't the way it was advertised on TV. They didn't come here to be beat over the head with sentimental patriotism.

When the announcer asks everyone to remain standing a bit longer, several groups of spectators begin to pack their belongings up. They are exasperated with all of the standing and waiting. How can they be expected to keep their kids under control for this long under a hot sun? They begin to head for the parking lot.

The announcer asks the veterans to please turn around and face the audience. As the veterans turn out, they find they are facing a relatively empty circle. The elderly are under their tarp and the dancers are gathered at the Eastern entrance. The few families under their tarps clap and hoot in appreciation, and the veterans are dignified in their humble acceptance.

An odd undercurrent of resentment has broken out. Several of the participant women bring out bundles of sage to burn. The participants are happy to take part in this cleansing ritual. The women also go into the arena and out to the vending areas.

Some of the spectators are wary of the burning sage, even snatching their children away from the bundles. One boy, certainly old enough to know better, swats a bundle of sage out of an elderly woman's hand.

A group of men from different tribes begin to converge on the Elder woman and boy. The boy's mother shoots him a disparaging look and turns her back, heading for the car. The boy is suitably cowed by the approach of the men and moves to follow his mom.

The Elder woman mumbles a prayer and sprinkles some tobacco where the boy had been standing. She indicates that the men should accompany her back to the announcer's tent.
The announcer calls for a happy opening song from the Lead Drum. A small group, mostly youth, enters the arena. Artfully representing butterflies and birds of prey, the dancers are blissfully unaware of the tension outside the arena. A tight knot of Elders has convened in the announcer’s tent.

“What a fine welcoming dance!” the announcer intones, “I regret to inform everyone that it has been decided to close this Pow Wow to the public. Refunds will be given on your way out. If you are not a registered participant or the guest of a registered participant we must ask you to leave. Again, I repeat, this Pow Wow is now closed to the public. We will take a short pause before we resume dancing.”

Two couples approach the announcer’s tent, loudly asking who is in charge of this event. One man is apparently an attorney, and is looking for a possible lawsuit. As the announcer calmly tries to explain that the participants have always reserved to right to make these events private, the attorney loudly talks over him about false advertising and ticket sales.

At this moment, when the attorney is at his loudest, a rumbles issues forth from the Earth. It lasts for about 3 seconds, and there is a loud feedback shriek from the PA system. Everyone is quiet for a moment.

The attorney starts in again- and again the Earth rumbles loudly, seeming to gather strength. Leaves and loose branches fall from trees. Several of the women begin to head for the arena, motioning to the Drums to begin a song. They sprinkle tobacco on the ground and burn their sage sticks. As they dance, the rumblings quiet down. Their steps are small and careful upon Mother Earth with whom they have a special bond.


The Dreaming-'more real than reality itself, and existing forever in parallel time'

Family Apartment in Melbourne Australia

On the TV an announcer is talking about the continuing violence in Morocco. The unrest is fueled by tribal rhetoric claiming that the citizens of Morocco have stolen the heritage of the First People of Africa. Bandits have been raiding coin dealers in search of coins minted from gold originating in Timbuktu.

A young girl, next to the TV looks out the window of her 5th floor apartment. The city is reminiscent of a war zone, and she wants to know when she can play outside again.
“For God's sake, get her away from the window! We don't need anyone to know there are still people in this building.” her father snaps.

A shudder rocks the room and more cracks appear in the ceiling. Glass is heard breaking down the hall within the apartment. A new explosion booms in the distance.

Being law-abiding citizens, this family is at a defensive disadvantage. Afraid to face the armed and criminally opportunistic mob in the street, this family has decided to wait out the destructive quakes and flooding.

A knock is heard at the door. The family falls into an uneasy silence.