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The Half Shaman in Space: The Attrition

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In which both the alien entity and Kosi Lionhair have their say and Jeb realizes what is needed for all her people to survive ... 
I’m almost level with the thing on the ledge. The life-suit sags as if it really just is an old woman. The tunic is the same tinge of gray as Ardrey’s hair still plaited around her head skin.
The life-suit flexes and fills until an Amazon warrior from one of my mother’s stories stands across from us. She/Kosi/it puts Ardrey’s hands around her mouth as if preparing to foghorn its message.
Not really necessary. Silence blankets the grassy slope.
The Amazon opens her mouth, starts to talk. No pink inside her mouth.
The voice cracks and crackles. I hear disparate sounds like chirruping and crackling and tearing and the grinding caused by wind-blown sand in old sprockets.
It seems that the entity realizes its message isn’t reaching us. It stops.
Behind me, I hear the ghostly sound of teeth grinding. “Stop that,” I say without turning. “You’ll ruin your teeth.”
There is…

The Half Shaman in Space: Learning the Animated Skin

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After a two-week interlude due to the author having to battle the flu, Jeb is back on track.
People climbing down are staying in the area near the creek. Soon … I count twenty and multiply … nearly three hundred people will throng the creek banks. I get a joke ready about what will happen if I have to stand in the water too long when I get down there. I might melt?
“When will we hunt?” says the Kosi-entity in Arley’s animated skin.
Is it her or is it the eater who encircles my wrist with Arley’s strong old fingers?
I’m afraid to pull away. Scared I’ll pull her over. Petrified of what will jump loose if she falls. We survey the grassy slope with all the hundreds of people cluttering its middle lower half.
What will we hunt?” I say. I hope Kosi at least realises that the people below are not to be thought of as prey. Will it make a difference?
Someone in the suit laughs with girlish glee and releases my wrist to twirl on the spot. Does Kosi know that the suit’s eyes are dim and old and only …

The Half Shaman in Space: The Ledge

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We are in what I’ve always thought of asThyal’s Totem Reality that I visualised when I first met Thyalsene when we were still on Lotor.
The Kosi-entity pulls me toward the edge of a narrow ledge, I think such flattish places on the side of a cliff are called. “We’ll study the landscape, see where the prey are hiding.”
I remember Wren’s frightened face when I, in my Harpy Eagle mode, made to grab her. She was too smart to be caught. And I now think every one of my group is too smart to be caught. Haven’t we all been out-witting Lotor all our lives?
I release Lithe. He turns and pulls at the next person and encourages her to one side. The next person to the other side. They both help him with feeding people along the ledge. Opposite is the steep green hill sloping down from the sward at its top that becomes stonier as it nears the creek at a bottom.
It’s the cliff face we teeter on. Above and behind us, the membrane shows the images of tall brown cliffs that seem to rise almost to the blue …

The Half Shaman in Space: All about Alien Technology, Version II

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One of the necessities when posting ongoing excerpts of a work in progress is the need to backtrack sometimes to rewrite a section. Today's post is a reworking of one from a few weeks ago. Anyone who feels like comparing I have left the original version in situ for your interest. 

“Why half?” Kosi says.
“Didn’t get to finish my schooling.” I’m lucky there’s still that easy answer available. I make my voice light and my tone light-hearted though I’m thinking dark things about my mother possibly having an Earth-grown body floating about in a silo somewhere in space. “They’re dead, the bodies left behind in the silos?”
Kosi knows exactly what I’m asking. “Some might still be in stasis,” she says. “But don’t worry about them waking up. They can’t by themselves. Most in the less technologically-advanced silos will have died by now through running out of nutrients. How can I separate the data-waving boots from the mysterious object so I can have a good look at it?”
We have nicely circled th…

The Half Shaman in Space: The Human Machine Pattern

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Lithe calls me and beckons. "Jeb!" Hurry. As in, there’s no time for either the Chief’s fireworks or whatever is causing me my red-faced excitement. He’s right. We need to get everyone we can up here in one crowd. I join him on the other side of the hole.
I drop to my knees. “How can I help?” I say with a wobble of suppressed emotion.
“You’ve got an idea?” Lithe says.
I nod. “All of us came on board through Reception. The rest of the humans apparently came directly from the Ark Ship and were delivered either here or in the over-world now below us?” Lithe nods.
“Through what doors?” I say, nodding in various directions where airlocks might be expected to show on the horizon. A few moments more will at least give me someone else who understands.
Lithe rises. Looks around. I see his glance slide over the corner where the reflective membrane stops us seeing it. I see him hesitate over the rectangle in the corner directly behind us where the shadow tried to disappear. He kneels back d…

The Half Shaman in Space: Uncle Puma

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As I struggle to stand upright someone hugs me to him with strong meaty arms.
The man catching me against his chest is broader and he has neither Mongoose’s smell nor his voice.  It isn't Mongoose.
I wrench loose.
It’s Uncle Puma. I catch his expression—glee? Can’t be—as he blinks it away. “I’ve counted through this crowd a couple of times to no avail, as I’m sure you have searched through the crowd in the over-world,” he says. “So you might as well accept that Mongoose is lost.”
Never never will I accept that Mongoose is lost.
“We’ll also need to do without Thyal, a far greater loss in my opinion, and a half dozen more, your friends Ant, Wren, and Meerkat among them.”
A lot of unnecessary words when I have already read his meanings in his touch and his eyes. I control my voice. “I’ve been busy.”
It sounds like an excuse. Why does Uncle Puma always make me feel like I haven’t done enough? I use a well-worn strategy to get his attention off me. Indicating the doubling I ask, “What’s happe…

The Half Shaman in Space: The Underworld

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Remember the manhole cover last week? Jeb lifts thehatch cover. Lays it aside. Looks down through the hole ...
I need to close my eyes and swallow and swallow. I peer between my eyelids but the vertigo is ongoing. Close my eyes, pretend to lift the hatch cover; pretend to lay it aside; pretend to look down through the hole.
Peer between my eyelids. All still the same. The walls and ceiling down there follow the same lines as the ones of the place I’m in except that they are upside down. I see an airlock in the nock of the pyramidal ceiling, far away. The new place is like a reflection, its base is the underside of the floor I’m kneeling on.
I dip my head down and through the hatch into the reflection. There is no disturbance, like rippling, so it isn’t a water reflection. My face and upper body leaning into it aren’t reflected, so it isn’t a mirror.
Weird but good. There’d be one more of me than I could cope with, I think as flippantly as I can to generate the next bit of courage needed.
I…