 
### Global Warming Fun 2:

### Ice Giants Wake!

By

Gary J. Davies

Published by Gary J. Davies at Smashwords

Global Warming Fun 2: Ice Giants Wake!

Copyright 2015 Gary J. Davies

### Smashwords Edition License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free e-book. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author. Quotes used in reviews are the only exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own free copy.

This novella is a work of fiction created by the author and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are a production of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Thank you for downloading this e-book.

### Contents

Forward

CHAPTER I - A New York Welcome

CHAPTER II - The Long Drive

CHAPTER III - Giants' Rest

CHAPTER IV - Lodge Life

CHAPTER V - Turtle Man

CHAPTER VI - The Quiet Turtles

CHAPTER VII - Talking Owls and Hairless Bear

CHAPTER VIII - Token Whites of the Tribe

CHAPTER IX - Bear Claw

CHAPTER X - The Red Eye

CHAPTER XI - A Conversation with Jerry Green

CHAPTER XII - Hairless Bear Wakes

CHAPTER XIII - The Talking Claw

CHAPTER XIV - Complications

CHAPTER XV - Peace Maker

CHAPTER XVI - What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

About Other Publications by This Author

****

### Forward

This is the second in a planned FREE series of short stories and/or novellas that when complete will also (hopefully) at some future date be merged to comprise one seamless epic novel. Only complete works are permitted to be published through Smashwords. As a short story/novella each release in the series must stand alone and provide a sense of completeness, yet also address a broader series plotline such that together the parts also form a broader story. The novella Global Warming Fun 2: Ice Giants Wake can be read independently as a stand-alone story, but for a better sense of the over-all plot and more insight into some of the characters, before reading this story its prequel the short story Global Warming Fun 1: Saved By Right-Handed Grass should be read. There in its 'Forward' section the over-all concept for the Global Warming Fun series is further discussed, providing greater insight into the behind the scenes sausage-making of this series.

The plan is for each story in the series to provide a glimpse of both typical and critical events amid an increasingly unstable world in which natural, technological and mythical forces are being unleashed due to climate change and other human induced problems. In the first story Ed Rumsfeld and his wife Mary were introduced, along with aspects of the global warming/climate change dilemma including the amazing jants, their creator Jerry (an itinerant gene-splicer) and the Government agents that pursue him. This second story has swollen from short story to novella to short-novel proportions due to bountiful Mohawk lore, science rationale, and adventurous plot.

In addition to cheerfully and patiently waiting for unknown ages to see how this series unfolds and finally ends, you may wish in the meantime to read an already completed full-length novel. (What a novel idea!) See the 'About Other Publications by This Author' section at the end of this e-book for a description of other works by this author to be found at Smashwords, ITunes, Barns and Noble, and other sites. At the time of this writing all are either FREE or absurdly cheap.

As always I thank my wife and daughters for putting up with all this writing nonsense, Bill Gates for his useful spell-checker that makes even physics-trained engineers passable spellers, and my favorite author James P. Blaylock for his inspiringly silly fabulist writings. I wish also to thank the makers of Paint, the freeware which supports my awkward creation of nifty little e-book covers. Finally, I extend special thanks to the native-languages dot-org website and other websites where I obtained valuable source information about the Mohawk people which provides much of the setting for this story. Much Mohawk information that I provide in this story (including the existence of Mohawk County and Giants' Rest Mountain) is of course fictional, but I have with the best of intentions and to the best of my ability used actual fascinating bits and pieces of Mohawk language, culture, and myths in this novella whenever possible.

Happy reading!

****

### Global Warming Fun 2:

### Ice Giants Wake!

### CHAPTER I

### A New York Welcome

"Aside from wanting to escape from the heat of global warming, why do you two [YAHOOS] want to move north from Virginia to New York?" the state border agent asked Ed and Mary Rumsfeld, as he retrieved their digital Personal Identification (PID) cards from them and placed them into the card reader of his computer terminal.

On their side of the table in the little interview room Ed and his wife Mary exchanged nervous glances and impatient shrugs, and Ed wondered if he heard the border agent actually say the word 'yahoos' or if he had merely sensed him thinking the word. Ed's telepathic ability sometimes resulted in his unintentional detection of the unvoiced thoughts of people, if those people were themselves at least slightly telepathic. This was confusing, annoying, and somewhat rude, but Ed was getting used to it, and it didn't very often happen. Fortunately most people were not strong enough telepaths for Ed to detect any of their thoughts.

Given the destabilizing effects of climate change, crossing state lines nowadays was a big deal, but the Maryland and Pennsylvania borders had been easy to cross compared to entering the Empire State. At the other state borders the guards had been satisfied with automatic scans of the digital information contained on their PIDs and with taking a quick look at the contents of their U-Haul truck. Here at the New York boarder with Pennsylvania, Ed and Mary were being interrogated by a bored looking New York border agent, while outside, the contents of their truck and the Ford sedan that it towed were undergoing a search by a full crew of agents and their contraband-sniffing dogs.

Ed wasn't worried that they would find the Jerry-ants hiding in the car or truck. He was sure that the genetically modified jants that his old neighbor Jerry Green had gene-spliced into existence in his garage laboratory were much too clever to be found by state border agents. After all, evidently the jants had successfully evaded even the feds for more than a year now. They had even successfully evaded Mary. Ed was sure that she had no idea that the creatures even existed, or that he had become telepathic.

"I have a good job waiting for me in the town of Giants' Rest," Ed stated, repeating PID information that the agent should already be reading on his computer screen anyway.

"Oh!" the agent responded, his eyes lighting up as he studied his computer screen with new interest. "You plan to move to the Mohawk Reservation! That's probably why you folks were automatically flagged at the gate!"

"Mohawk Reservation?" Ed responded in surprise. "The town of Giants' Rest is on an Indian reservation?"

"Mister, all of Mohawk County is the Mohawk Reservation! Didn't you [IDIOTS] know that?"

"It's news to me," admitted Ed, as he glanced pointedly at his wife Mary.

"Alright, Uncle Jack told me about it being a reservation years ago, Ed," Mary admitted. "Jack has lived there for five years with the Mohawks."

"He has?" Ed responded, but he wasn't really surprised. Mary's mysterious Uncle Jack led an eccentric life that Mary knew much more about than Ed cared to know. After her folks died in an accident when she was ten, her Uncle Jack raised Mary. They lived in dozens of unusual places, chasing after ancient bones and goof-ball mysteries. How Mary had turned out relatively normal was probably the biggest mystery.

Mary had indeed previously mentioned to Ed that Jack lived in the Adirondack Mountains of northern New York, but she hadn't mentioned that he lived on a Native American reservation. It fit though. It explained why in recent years Jack mailed to them moccasins and other items of obvious Native American manufacture as Christmas and birthday gifts. But why the hells would a man of predominantly Irish decent live on an American Indian reservation? And why would Jack stay for five whole years in one place? Usually he stayed for only a couple of months in any one area while he studied local lore and artifacts. He must have found something of enormous interest to entice him to stay in one place for so long. Or maybe he was just slowing down. Aging can do that, Ed was beginning to discover for himself.

"Despite how intrigued I am by your [stupid] family information you will need to talk to one of our specialists, Mr. and Mrs. Rumsfeld," the agent announced, shaking his head and frowning as he rose and exited the interview room.

Fudge, yet another delay, Ed thought. They still had a long arduous drive ahead of them today and this border crossing episode was wasting far too much time. He and Mary had chosen this obscure crossing point precisely to avoid long lines and save time, but it certainly wasn't working out that way. He glanced outside through a nearby window to note that the early morning traffic was moving steadily through the half-dozen gates manned by a dozen or so armed border guards. It was a mini-rush hour. A flood of locals mostly, Ed reasoned, commuting north to day-jobs just across the state line. They crossed the border using special commuter passes. If they didn't cross back at the end of the day they would become wanted fugitives to be hunted down by state and federal agents.

All over the world, state powers were renormalizing towards greater control. The climate change 'national emergency' was the typical excuse, but how could an essentially permanent and worsening condition be an emergency? At least here in the United States, so far there wasn't war or widespread starvation, only tolerable inconveniences such as state border crossing delays and invasive and sometimes mutant diseases and critters.

As Ed watched, the guards quickly waved most of the cars and pick-up trucks through the crossing after scanning the PIDs of the drivers and all passengers, stopping only the larger trucks to search their cargo for dangerous invasive creatures and other unwanted items.

Few trucks were larger than a pick-up, van, or SUV, Ed noticed. At this particular crossing their big U-Haul truck and their identity as people from distant Virginia probably made them stand out like sore thumbs, Ed belatedly realized. They should have chosen a busier crossing that had more big trucks and fewer local commuters. If they had done that they would be driving but one of a whole herd of similar vehicles that border guards wouldn't have time to single out. Safety in numbers: that's how zebras and wildebeests protected themselves from hungry packs of lions, and that strategy would have also probably worked for him and Mary, Ed reasoned.

A different border agent entered the room and moved to sit behind the interview table. The new man was perhaps thirty years old and of above average height with solid, athletic build, dark reddish skin, and a short black ponytail. He moved with the grace of a great cat and the self-assurance of a government official that wielded great arbitrary bureaucratic power.

Ed detected no distinct telepathic thoughts from the man, which was fine with him.

The agent scanned the computer screen for several seconds with darting beady eyes before finally looking up to study Ed and Mary critically. "I'm John Running Bear, Mr. and Mrs. Rumsfeld." He stood to reach across the table and firmly shake the right hand of each of them; a very unusual thing to do nowadays, given the contagious pathogens that rampaged throughout the world. He didn't smile though, Ed noticed, and he and Mary were obviously being scrutinized very critically by this man. "Let me see your State IDs and supporting paperwork first, please," Running Bear asked.

Ed shrugged and fished out his Virginia driver's license from his wallet; meanwhile Mary opened the big fat manila envelope she carried with her and emptied its entire contents onto the table. All the data contained by her and her husband's PIDs originated from these official paper documents, which included original birth certificates, tax returns for three years, the letter from the Reservation offering Ed the teaching job, and a letter from the State of New York approving their entry. She nudged everything across the table towards John Running Bear, who began methodically sifting through them as if they had all the time in the world.

Mary had been right to carry all that stuff with them, Ed now realized, but then Mary was usually right. Ed hadn't seen any reason to do so, since all of this data was already entered on their Federal Government PIDs in digital form. He and Mary had recently spent an entire boring afternoon in a Virginia department of motor vehicles office with a bored looking State of Virginia employee, validating that they had all relevant information entered correctly on their official PIDs. Of course like everything else digital, Ed supposed that even PIDs could be hacked or forged. Evidently Mr. John Running Bear of the State of New York thought so too.

Ed resisted the temptation to drum his fingers on the table as Running Bear carefully examined each document and compared their contents to the PID information that was displayed on his computer screen. After perhaps five minutes that seemed more like twenty the agent was satisfied at last. He pushed the paperwork towards the center of the table as he looked up at Mary and Ed and shook his head. "Why the hell do you folks want to live on the Mohawk County Reservation?"

"We need the pay," Ed responded. "I'm in favor of early retirement, but I've just turned only thirty-seven. I figure that I have a few more years of adequate work effort left in me, if I don't over-do it."

"And I can do on-line sales from anywhere," Mary added.

"You might find that internet commerce is difficult to do from Giants' Rest, Mrs. Rumsfeld. I doubt that they have any internet. Besides, you already both had better jobs in Virginia," Running Bear pointed out.

"We also had bigger snakes in Virginia," Mary noted. "I found a hungry looking forty-foot mutant python in my kitchen one morning and that was the last straw."

"Unfortunate, but that's not New York's problem," said Running Bear. "We have enough freeloaders already without letting more in through our borders."

"I'm a hard working middle-school history teacher, not a freeloader!" Ed sputtered angrily. "Didn't you see that letter from the Giants' Rest School Board offering me the teaching job?"

"In the first place, that letter says that only a one month trial appointment is guaranteed, then a monthly reappointment will be done after that, if your performance satisfies the local school board. Why would you throw away the tenure you had in the Virginia school system for that? In the second place the letter from the Giants' Rest School Board doesn't even say what salary they're going to pay you."

"And in the third place it says that they'll provide free housing and food to us," Mary pointed out. "It won't require much money to live there. I'm sure that whatever they pay Ed will be adequate."

Running Bear laughed and shook his head before replying. "The pay won't be what you expect, and the lodge housing and food won't be what you expect either, you being twenty-first century white folks. I've heard that most of the Mohawk County Tribe lives in traditional bark-covered longhouses. Comfortable enough in the summer maybe, but most of the year you will be south of the arctic jet stream in polar vertex country. You'll have free housing in what isn't even a house, by white man standards. You probably won't even have electricity or running water!"

Ed's jaw dropped open. Bark covered longhouse? No water or electricity? What the hell!

"I'm sure that you exaggerate, Mr. Running Bear," retorted Mary.

"Maybe you have friends already living there on the Reservation that will help you?" the agent asked.

"We do," said Mary. "We'll be living in the same lodge as my uncle Jack O'Brien. He's lived there for five years, and he has great influence with the Tribe that allowed him to find this job for Ed. Uncle Jack has assured us that we'll be treated well."

Running Bear's eyebrows raised a notch, "Jack O'Brien the anthropologist?"

"You know him?" Mary asked. It was her turn to be surprised.

"Not personally but I know of him," Replied Running Bear. He sat back in his chair and shrugged. "He's been poking into Native American business for decades. OK, if he has lived with the local Mohawk there for five years and is in good enough graces with them to get you this job maybe it's legit. Maybe they'll even be able to pay you a little money. They do have government cash coming in now and wages from the iron work that some of them do seasonally in New York City."

"I don't know any of them personally but I've heard of the iron workers," said Ed. "The Mohawk famously help build skyscrapers, don't they? They aren't afraid of heights and do the high girder work."

"Several hundred of them do," Running Bear admitted. "Most sort of commute from locations near Montreal, but lately a few of them also commute from Mohawk County. Only a fool isn't afraid of heights and the Mohawk are not fools, merely a proud brave people. But I must warn you folks that there are some strange and unsettling rumors about the Mohawk County portion of the Mohawk tribe and Giants' Rest Mountain, rumors that have circulated among the other tribes for untold centuries. I'm a Native American myself and I wouldn't go anywhere near that place."

"What sort of rumors?" Ed had to ask.

"Ancient legends, mostly. My own people are the Mohicans. We're an Algonquin tribe, not an Iroquois Confederacy tribe like the Mohawk. We called the Mohawk the Maw Unk Lin: the bear people. The Dutch mangled the term into 'Mohawk' and the name stuck. Even most of the Mohawks tend to use it, though the term means 'man eater' in their own language. Anyway, there are old Mohican and Iroquois stories about some of the Mohawk actually being cannibals. Then there are much older stories about Giants' Rest Mountain: legends about giants sleeping in the Mountain being the actual man-eaters."

"Great!" Ed remarked. Bears? Cannibals? Man-eating giants? "It sounds like a perfectly wonderful place to work and live. You've made my day, John."

"Sounds like pure B-S to me!" Mary remarked.

"You aren't mountain climbers, I hope?" asked Running Bear.

"Not if we can help it," Ed responded. "I'm a flat-lander myself. Why do you ask?"

"There's a white-man club called the Forty-Sevens with members that try to climb all forty seven of the New York mountains over 4000 feet. Giants' Rest Mountain has only recently been verified to be just over 5000 feet. The Mohawks on the Reservation don't like anyone to climb Giants' Rest Mountain, especially outsiders."

"Good," Ed replied. "I'm not a Forty-Seven and for sure I don't want to climb any mountains. I can't even climb a stepladder without getting the heebie-jeebies. My eyeballs are usually no more than five feet or so from ground-level and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Then there's a ton of old Indian traditions that they observe that could drive you folks crazy," Running Bear added. "They still eat traditional food and so-forth such as wild critters and critter food. You still want to move to Giants' Rest?"

"I admit that I'm less than thrilled about it right now but it can't be avoided," replied Ed. "We've already pulled up our stakes in Virginia. Honest Indian, John, we really need to get to Giants' Rest. We'll eat critter food and pee outside in the cold polar vortex if we have too. I really do need that job."

The big boarder guard shrugged and slid their paper work the rest of the way across the table towards them. "OK, it's your funeral. I'm not going to stop you. The State of New York has already approved your migration here; we just needed to provide a final interview at the border."

Ed grinned. They had passed muster and would soon again be on their way!

"Speaking of funerals, I thought that all the Mohicans were dead," Mary remarked, as she loaded their paperwork back into her big manila envelope. "That was in a movie, wasn't it?"

Hardly," Running Bear replied, smiling broadly. "That just shows that you can't rely on novelists and Hollywood screen-writers for accurate Native American history. The Mohawks booted the Mohicans out of New York to Connecticut, and then the white man essentially bamboozled and kicked us clean out of New England all together. But we thrive now in Wisconsin, where we have a very nice casino. A few of us recently returned here to our ancestral homelands in New York. Long term we're hoping to get some of our old land back near Albany where we can set up another casino that will cater to the New York City crowd. Gambling is a great evil. I look at casinos as payback for what the whites did to us Native Americans."

"Sounds like a plan," Ed noted, as Running Bear typed information of the interview into his computer to update state and federal data-banks and PID information.

"The Oneida and other New York tribes already have casinos to get back cash from the white man; why shouldn't we?" Running Bear added, before returning to his one-fingered typing. Through the window Ed noticed that his U-Haul and the car it towed had also evidently passed muster, as it was no longer being searched by the pack of human and dog agents. "Here you go, folks," Running Bear at last said, as he handed their updated PIDs to them and again shook their hands vigorously. "For what it's worth, welcome to New York: the Empire State! Hope you brought your long johns."

"Thanks!" Mary responded cheerily, as she and Ed exited. "And good luck with your casino."

After they were gone John Running Bear took a break outside and watched the Rumsfelds drive away in their truck as he phoned his secret employer, the National Security Administration. He was quickly patched through to Dr. Mark Sheffield, section lead and chief scientist of the NSA East Coast Bio-Terrorist Crisis Response Team.

"Ed and Mary Rumsfeld just passed through my border checkpoint, Dr. Sheffield, as surmised from the PID information that they created days ago. No sign yet of Green or his jants. I've verified that the Rumsfelds are likely heading for Mohawk County, just as their PID entries say. Mary apparently has an uncle that lives there now."

"Indeed!" remarked Sheffield. He had to pull some strings to get the State of New York to approve the Rumsfeld migration. Fortunately New York owed Pennsylvania a few migration slots and Pennsylvania had a reciprocal arrangement with Virginia. Federal law limited the number of migrations between states but the states were free to sell and trade their allotment of migration slots with other states. If only society were to put as much effort into curbing climate change as they did into making money from it, the problem might be solved, Sheffield mused. "Rumsfeld is one of our only leads to find Green, and you're our only Native American agent in the region," he responded. Actually he was the only Native American in small circle of agents that Sheffield trusted. "I want you to follow Rumsfeld to that reservation and determine if Green is hiding there."

"But I'm of the Mohican tribe!" Running Bear protested. "We're ancient enemies of the Mohawk! They aren't likely to welcome me with open arms!"

"You'll figure something out, Running Bear. You always do."

"OK, I do have an idea, Boss," Running Bear responded after a few moments of thought. "But it will require that you pull a few more strings there in Washington."

Following considerable persuasion by Running Bear, Sheffield at last agreed to his plan. After talking to Sheffield, Running Bear phoned his other secret employer and alerted them that Sheffield would soon be in touch with them, before returning to work in the border crossing station. His brief undercover assignment as a New York border agent was complete, and as far as the NSA was concerned he should simply leave them high and dry now, but his personal integrity demanded that he finish out the day working for them. There were things more important than loyalty to one's government.

****

### CHAPTER II

### The Long Drive

"Giants' Rest is on an Indian reservation, Mary!" Ed noted, as they pulled away from the border crossing station in the truck and drove north. "An Indian reservation where crazy people like your uncle might seek to survive the winter in bark houses without central heating! What the bloody hell!"

"As usual you worry far too much!" Mary responded. Mary knew very well that Ed was a consummate worrier. Several years ago he started constructing a ranked Excel workbook list of potentially catastrophic things to worry about; hundreds of issues ranging from food additives to nuclear Armageddon by space aliens, with climate change ranking somewhere in the middle. She pointed out to him that he had very little influence on any of those issues and that one of her own highest ranked worries was that he spent far too much time worrying. She then directed him to tackle their household honey-do list instead of the world catastrophe list. That list was also uncomfortably and impossibly long, but they could at least effectively work their way through some of its issues and achieve some tangibly positive results.

"What? Me worry? About what? What could possibly go wrong?"

"Trust in Uncle Jack."

"I guess," Ed capitulated. As a matter of fact he did trust that Uncle Jack wouldn't knowingly screw up the lives of his favorite niece and her husband. Not on purpose anyway. But Jack was a nut-job that lived a crazy life. His idea of a happy place to live could very well be above the arctic jet stream in a bark house with no electricity or plumbing. Living in a traditional Mohawk lodge could almost be like living outside, and the chilly fall season was well underway. It was seventy-five degrees when they left Virginia yesterday; it was forty degrees when they entered New York this morning and getting colder by the mile. Winter would be truly brutal in a home that lacked modern central heating and proper insulation.

"THAT WOULD BE QUITE SATISFACTORY FOR US," the jants informed Ed telepathically. Ed experienced their telepathic messages as a strange reverberating 'voice' in his head, as cogent jant thoughts were only formed by a great multitude of individual jants hidden deep within the furniture packed in the truck, behind auto door panels, and inside boxes. They carried with them only a small fraction of the total jant super-organism that was rapidly spreading throughout and beyond the United States, but there were enough jants migrating with the Rumsfelds to support sentience and to colonize the Reservation.

"I'M SURE THAT IT WOULD," Ed thought in response. "BUT HUMANS ARE MORE DELICATE THAN JANTS."

"DEFINITELY," the jants agreed, but they didn't elaborate.

It had been more than a year since Jerry and his jants saved Ed's life from invading army/fire ants. To save his life from the toxic stings of the fire ants Jerry had given Ed an emergency injection of strange drugs and the jants had bitten him and provided their own mix of drugs. As a result his body chemistry was forever altered. He now seemed to be impervious to disease and telepathic, which so far was much better than being dead.

The jants lived in huge colonies and were linked together telepathically, with each tiny jant brain contributing to the collective intelligence of what amounted to a super-organism. When fugitive rogue biologist Jerry Green gene-spliced the telepathic big-brained jants into existence, he was being a bit careless, in Ed's opinion. Maybe the feds were right to be pursuing Jerry and his jants; maybe they were indeed dangerous.

After exchanging thoughts with them for more than a year, Ed still had uneasy feelings about the jants. For one thing, unless he was careful they could apparently read and understand his every thought. But Ed was getting better at blocking his thoughts from the jants. He was also getting better at reading jant thoughts but was still having difficulty understanding many of them. Some of their ant thought just didn't seem to translate very well into human thought patterns. That didn't seem to be fair; they apparently understood him well enough. What thoughts they did form into human-comprehensible ones seemed to Ed to always be alien, cold, and guarded. But Ed was gradually getting better at this telepathy business, and increasingly he did clandestinely glean a coherent thought or two from the constant internal chatter of the jants.

On the other hand, the jants and Jerry had saved his life. In particular, the shot of experimental drugs Jerry gave him to counter the venom of the stinging army/fire ants had saved him from certain death, though it also caused him to be transformed. The jants had also protected their Virginia neighborhood from most invasive creatures, but weren't able to completely deter all invaders, including some of the more aggressive giant mutant pythons.

The thick scaly hide of the pythons was apparently jant-proof. Mary's terrifying encounter with the python in their house would not soon be forgotten. If the damn thing hadn't gotten itself stuck in a kitchen cupboard that was too full of pots and pans it doubtlessly would have eaten her. Though being saved by pots and pans from being eaten by a giant snake made for an amusing story, it wasn't the sort of adventure that Mary Rumsfeld wished to repeat.

Hence they were fleeing north to country where mutant pythons presumably wouldn't ever go because of increasingly colder and longer winters. Contrary to popular early supposition, global warming didn't mean that the entire Earth was warming uniformly. Most areas were indeed warming by a few degrees, but a few areas were actually cooling, including the New England region of the United States. Some people were therefore fleeing New England to avid increasingly harsh winters, but more people from the south were in return migrating north to avoid increasing temperatures and invasive critters such as giant pythons. Mass migration was generally very economically and politically disruptive, so it was being discouraged by state and national governments and enforced through the use of PIDs and guarded state boundaries.

In the name of national security news reports were also being subtly influenced by the Federal Government. The current thinking of political leaders was that panic could be avoided by diverting public attention away from the growing national and world crisis brought about by climate change. Stories about migration induced wars and starvation, about unleashed disease and invasive mutant organisms, and about the ineffectiveness of governments to cope with the growing chaos, were all obscured and downplayed as much as possible. Besides, along with auto accidents and big-city murders, most such events were so common now that the public was tired of hearing about them.

Some stories were simply too big to effectively suppress, however. News that Lamarckian evolution effects had been discovered finally rocked the science community and spread to the public, briefly causing a sensation. Changes achieved by individuals were passed on to their offspring. Evolution was on steroids, and nobody knew where it would lead. Scientists often pointed out that radical climate changes had occurred many times in the past, indeed causing mass extinctions but certainly not destroying all life. Some eminent scientists feared that through Lamarckism resulting genetic instabilities could arise that over the long term might threaten all life on Earth.

But that was a long term threat, and would as such almost certainly be ignored until too much money was being lost and it was too late to do much about it. Responsible Lamarckian human cultural evolution would be needed for humans to save themselves from Lamarckian biological evolution as well as climate change, but the human track record for achieving the requisite cultural maturity to address serious issues was dismally poor.

Like most people, Ed and Mary didn't have time to carefully consider national and international crisis situations. They had their own personal short term problems to consider, such as the long drive to Giants' Rest. Originally they had planned the most direct route mapped out for them by various on-line trip-planning software programs, but after half an hour of driving on back-roads that twisted through hilly countryside and through towns with slow speed-limits and fast street-lights, they decided to take a somewhat longer route using wide straight interstate highways that skirted counter-clockwise around most of the mountainous Adirondacks.

Ed dozed comfortably while Mary took her turn at driving the truck, and the never fully at rest jants ate their stored provisions and telepathically contacted several New York jant colonies that they drove past. Each jant colony typically formed itself into a single dominant sentience that addressed colony-level concerns, while individual jants mostly operated by means of chemically driven actions honed through over a hundred million years of ant evolution.

Occasionally thousands of jant colonies linked themselves together telepathically to form the complete jant super organism. The combined brain-power of billions of jants far surpassed the intelligence of any human or human made device.

At such times information was exchanged and over-all jant progress and strategy was reviewed and adjusted. Their progress was good and according to plan; across the USA jants were rapidly replacing local ant species. The other ants defended themselves viciously but were no match for powerful jant mandibles and super-strong exoskeletons, directed by intelligence-driven tactics and strategy. Their Creator Jerry Green had designed the jants well.

Jerry continued mailing packages containing jant colonies nation-wide and world-wide, and the jants continued to cooperate with Jerry. Soon jants would form alliances with other humans, and appear to cooperate also with them while they grew in numbers, until they were strong enough to either completely enslave or destroy all humans. Meanwhile they grew and learned, especially from the unsuspecting humans.

They could read the thoughts of a human soon after they bit them. When a jant-bitten human was within a few feet of jants, their thoughts and memories became accessible to all jants. Jants lived hidden in the yards, houses, business places, and research laboratories of numerous prominent humans, absorbing human knowledge and culture. What is it that the humans said about keeping enemies close? Humans had so many useful ideas that would be turned against them when the time was right!

****

"We're there already?" Ed asked in amazement, when Mary finally woke him. "You were supposed to wake me after we got through the Schenectady area." Ed hated driving through cities and even driving around cities. Through the truck windows he could see that they were surrounded by several huge rounded, tree-covered mountain peaks, presumably the Adirondacks. There were no Mohawks in sight though.

"I wasn't very tired so I just kept driving," explained Mary. "But we aren't there yet; we still have to go maybe thirty miles west on a twisty, narrow, hilly, bumpy road. I knew that you'd want to drive through that yourself, manly man that you are."

"Sure, thanks; that sounds like a manly man's job all right," he said as he climbed out of the passenger side and walked around the truck to climb up into the driver's seat. He was glad to climb back into the warm comfort of the cab; it was shockingly cold outside.

"What happened to the fall season?" he asked, as he gazed at the nearby trees. "Did I sleep through it? Most of the leaves have fallen here. We had perfectly green leaves in Virginia, and just a hint of color in Pennsylvania."

"We drove through fall," said Mary. "Around here it's nearly winter."

The truck was parked along a narrow, twisty mountain road, on a grassy shoulder just big enough to hold it and the car it towed. The road itself was hard-packed unpaved gravel he noticed, and not very wide. Big old-growth trees on each side of it formed a nearly solid canopy overhead, even though most of their leaves had fallen. The road seemed very rustic and picturesque, but not very utilitarian. Driving this road would be slow. "This surely can't be the main road into Mohawk County!"

"According to Jack it's the only road into Mohawk County," Mary informed him.

"Great! How far does the GPS say that we have to go?"

"Our GPS conked out on us a few miles back; this road apparently isn't in its data base at all. Neither is Giants' Rest, for that matter. Not even a postal zip code exists!"

"That doesn't seem possible. They have to have mail! What about tax returns and junk mail and letters to Santa? And how are we navigating then? You said before we left Virginia that you had a couple of routes completely worked out."

"Uncle Jack sent directions to me for these last few miles, I'm simply following them."

"Swell; for navigation we're relying on letters from a non-existent post office about a non-existent road to a non-existent town." Ed put the truck into low gear, slowly inched it out of the grass and began driving along the road. The road itself wasn't really any smoother than the bumpy grassy clearing had been he noticed; the truck and its contents rattled and banged almost continuously. It will be a miracle if nothing gets broken, he figured. No, amend that: it will be a miracle if everything doesn't get broken. It also didn't help that fallen leaves half covered the road surface, making it slippery and hard to judge where the road was in some spots. Driving on this road was a real bitch! "How far did you say we still have to go according to Uncle Jack?"

"Thirty miles as the crow flies, maybe. Maybe sixty-plus, if the crow follows all the road curves. Giants' Rest is near the middle of the Adirondacks."

"Wonderful! That could take most of the afternoon on this cow-path of a road, traveling between ten and twenty miles an hour. I don't dare go faster around curves and over bumps, or we'll have nothing but a truck full of busted goods by the time we get there, or I'll lose track of the road in the fallen leaves and drive us off a cliff."

"There would have been over twice as many miles over mountain roads if we had come more directly up from the south-west, and we would still end up on this road."

"Yes, things could indeed be even worse. Thanks; knowing that always makes me feel much better." He shifted the semi-automatic transmission from second gear to third as they crested a hill. At least there was no clutch to deal with, and trees and hills often blocked the direct sunlight that they would otherwise be driving into as they made their way west. Yes, things could be even worse. Swell.

"Wake me up when we get there, Grumpy," Mary responded, as she curled up in her passenger seat and pulled her baseball cap down over her eyes.

"How will I know when we get there?" Ed asked. Now they were going uphill again already. He shifted from third gear back into second again as he glanced at the truck's fuel gage. The tank was almost full; Mary must have gotten gas while he slept. Smart girl! They would burn a lot of gas driving in the lower gears.

"You'll know. This road ends at Giants' Rest."

"Great! That sounds easy!"

It wasn't. After only half an hour of guiding the big U-Haul truck along the twisting road Ed was already becoming weary. At least traffic was super light. He passed two empty pickup trucks driving in the opposite direction and that was all. In both instances opposing vehicles had to pull half-way off the narrow road in order to avoid head-on collisions. But it could have been worse, Ed constantly told himself. At least they weren't climbing over mountain ridges; the Adirondacks were in the form of mounds rather than the long ridges that formed the Appalachians. This road mostly twisted around the mountains without having to climb totally over them. Ed wasn't disappointed. There was still plenty of uphill and downhill to suit him, thrown in with the endless curves.

To make things more mysterious and interesting, after perhaps twenty miles all signs warning of coming curves and how fast to drive when rounding them totally disappeared. In fact except for the lousy road there was no sign of civilization whatsoever. No phone or electric lines. No houses or shops. There was only the endlessly twisting gravel road.

They did pass one side road. Signs indicated that it was a dead-end road that led to a landfill. Perhaps even the Mohawk created trash! To Ed it was a promising suggestion of some degree of civilization beyond longhouses and out-houses. Perhaps Running Bear had indeed exaggerated how primitive the Mohawks lived!

The bumps, curves, and hills continued. Mary slept through the whole damn thing. Mary could sleep through anything. It was a gift.

Ed could already use another nap himself, but sheer terror thankfully kept him awake throughout it all. This was indeed more a cow path than a road he decided, for insane cows with a death wish, a path that wound dangerously around huge boulders and trees and along the edges of cliffs with no guard rails. All of the leaves on the road, many of them wet, made it like driving on a gazillion banana peels. Aided by wet leaves they could very easily slide off the road and end up at the bottom of a deep ravine where they would never be found. Hell, maybe there were already dozens of wrecked U-Haul vehicles at the bottom of the ravines that surrounded this shitty road, loaded with the skeletons of prospective Giants' Rest school teachers and their families!

This was unsatisfactory. A road should be straight and smooth and have stripes and warning signs and so-forth. Ed had read somewhere that taxes in New York were among the highest in the country. Where the hells were those tax dollars going? Not to this road, that's for damn sure! If he lived through the day he vowed to Twitter some very nasty words about this road. He was up to five followers on Twitter. They'd pass on his road rage to their five followers and so-forth until the whole world was outraged! Then again, maybe this wasn't a government road; maybe it was private. Perhaps that was why the curve warning signs had disappeared.

Government road or private road, it seemed endless. Even Ed's Jerry-transformed body was tiring. His arms were sore from wrestling the big truck steering wheel and gear shift; his legs were sore from alternately working the brake and gas peddles, and his mind and his seat-sore butt were numb from the entire damned experience. If Running Bear only realized how lousy this road was, he could have used it as a very convincing argument against any foolish attempt to move to Giants' Rest. Left turn, right turn, uphill, downhill; it never ended. The good news was, after the first hundred or so hairpin curves Ed was well experienced in how fast to drive through them. The bad news was that he was too exhausted to properly apply what he was learning.

He considered waking Mary and asking her to drive for a while, but quickly gave up on that notion. He was the husband; it was his husbandly duty to protect his wife from terrible ordeals of any sort except childbirth. Besides, he had his foolish manly pride to consider. But those were all fleeting thoughts compared with his need to relentlessly focus on not crashing the truck, even though he had purchased the extra U-Haul insurance.

"DO NOT CONCERN YOURSELF WITH CRASHING; WE JANTS WILL SURVIVE ANY CONCEIVABLE WRECKAGE SITUATION," chimed the jants after a particularly bad curve that strained Ed's driving skills to the limit.

"THAT'S JUST SWELL," Ed responded mentally, with as much sarcasm as he could muster under the circumstances. He was getting better at telepathy; he seldom spoke aloud anymore when communicating thoughts to them. They were getting better at listening too; lately they even seemed to detect sarcasm and other nuances of speech and thought. Right now Ed was too tired and stressed-out to care what the hell the jants thought about his thoughts.

Every so often now Ed drove past crude hand-painted signs that indeed confirmed that he was driving on a private road on private property and that trespass without Mohawk Tribe permission was illegal and strictly forbidden. This was usually followed by convenient turn-about loops that provided law-breaking trespassers with ample opportunities to turn around and leave. Ed seriously considered doing just that. He could give some excuse to Mary that he got confused driving the twisty leaf-obscured road and got himself turned around the wrong way by accident.

But no, that would only mean that Mary would insist that they try again, and he'd have to needlessly repeat this arduous drive. Besides, he kept telling himself that he was more than half-way now, past the fabled point of no return, such that driving out of these mountains would prove to be even worse than continuing forward. No, he was stuck; he had to drive all the way through to Giants' Rest somehow.

****

### CHAPTER III

### Giants' Rest

Following a ridiculously tortuous curve in the suddenly steeply climbing road Ed caught teasing glimpses of an enormous mountain ahead; perhaps Giants' Rest Mountain at last? The peak was soon lost to sight behind interceding cliffs and foliage, as often was the case with mountains when you got closer to them. A few miles later however, the road opened into a surprisingly extensive and flat valley populated by several nearby wooden buildings sheltered behind a high barbed-wire fence. It was the first significant sign of civilization encountered since Mary woke him several torturous hours ago!

Trees and the buildings themselves obscured whatever else was in the town but a few miles beyond them a great granite dome towered above everything. Unlike the other Adirondack Mountains that Ed had seen, this one appeared to be made of solid light-colored rock that was nearly devoid of trees or other vegetation. It reminded him of famous El Capitan in California's Yosemite Park. Immediately in front of the truck, the road ended at a low but massive gate constructed of heavy wood timbers. The gate was closed, and there were no friendly 'Welcome to Giants' Rest' signs to be seen. Instead there were dozens of signs ardently warning trespassers to go away.

"I think we're there," Ed announced loud enough to wake Mary, as he pulled up close to the gate, put the truck into park, set the parking brake, and wound his side-window open. Refreshingly cool outside air rushed in.

"I know for sure that we're there," he amended, as a half-dozen heavily armed men carrying automatic rifles hopped nimbly over the still closed gate and surrounded the truck, guns pointed towards the truck cab. They moved quickly, confidently, and silently, as though they had done this sort of thing hundreds of times before. Ed would have thought that they were an ordinary well-trained army, police, or nut-case survivalist death squad, except for their distinctive Native American appearance.

They all wore what appeared to be colorfully dyed, loose, home-spun clothing, with leather moccasins tied on with leather straps. They had baggy cotton trousers at least, and not the leather breach-cloths and leggings of their ancestors, but other than that and the modern rifles their Native American appearance looked authentic to Ed, though he admittedly didn't know very much about anything Native American except what he had gleaned from old Hollywood movies and TV westerns.

Most tellingly their grim faces were dark and reddish, and they each sported the Mohawk hair style for which the Mohawks were famous: a vertical crest of black hair that ran from fore-head to the backs of their heads, while the rest of their heads were shaved hairless. The crest of hair spiked straight up unnaturally, defying gravity and gusts of cold wind with the likely aid of bear grease or its modern equivalent hair gel. As a final touch their cheeks, foreheads and shaved heads sported darkly painted jagged shapes and runes. War paint, Ed figured. Good grief!

One of them approached Ed's side of the truck, rifle pointed at Ed. "State your names and business here, trespassers!" he demanded menacingly.

Ed found that he didn't have a voice. At the moment he was thinking of the nice friendly New York gate guards encountered early that morning and how much more pleasant encountering them had been.

"We're Ed and Mary Rumsfeld, school teacher and wife," Mary answered loudly for them. "We are expected."

"And we have PIDs," Ed added lamely, though they didn't seem to be the sort of border guards that would care much about PIDs.

"Yes, you are expected," the guard replied, though he didn't lower his rifle and his fierce grim expression remained.

"Drive the truck through the gate and park it where I show you to park it," the guard commanded.

The heavy wooden gate swung open ponderously, and the guard walked through it, motioning with his rifle for Ed to follow him with the truck. Ed did so cautiously, taking care not to drive over the fellow, which probably would have been a serious mistake. The other guards followed, still surrounding the truck with their weapons aimed at their expected guests. Ed tried not to imagine how they would welcome unexpected guests!

Ed soon parked the truck in front of one of several house-sized log buildings as instructed. A large sign on the building declared it to be the Giants' Rest Mohawk Reservation Administration Building. Ed was surprised to notice that its roof was covered in solar panels. Like the automatic rifles that the guards carried, solar panels seemed to be distinctly out of place in this otherwise primitive looking setting.

A United States flag hung to one side of its front door, and a flag unfamiliar to Ed adorned the other side. Ed didn't get a good look at it, but he recognized several animal symbols on it, including a turtle, bear, and wolf. "That's the flag of The Six Nations of the Iroquois," Mary informed him. "That's the Tree of Peace in the middle, and clan symbols arranged around it. I'm going to have a closer look." Heedless of the armed men that still surrounded them, Mary climbed out of the truck and approached the Iroquois flag.

Ed was too utterly exhausted to care about flags or what Mary was doing with them. After looking in a side mirror to confirm one last time that the Ford was still safely being towed, Ed at last turned the truck off. Engine noise and vibration stopped and the silence was heavenly. With a deep sigh Ed slouched over the trunk's steering wheel. His driving ordeal was complete and he could rest at last!

He was comfortably drifting off into a well-earned nap when Mary opened his door and after some nagging and poking helped him down from the truck cab and put on his jacket to protect him from the cold air. Only with her help could he stand up steadily. "You should have woken me if you were this tired!" she admonished. "What were you thinking?"

"Foolish manly pride, I suspect," cackled a strange, squeaky female voice. "We use two or three drivers when we travel the full length of the entrance road. Using fewer is dangerously foolish."

Beside them stood a tiny woman shrouded in a gray home-spun hooded robe-like coat, crooked and wrinkled with age. She stood by aid of an absurdly crooked walking stick that looked like it was even older than she was. "Old Mother here is a tribal leader and a member of the School Board that hired you," Mary explained to Ed.

"My proper name is Tsino:wen," the old woman announced, as she smiled and extended her hand to grasp his.

"Glad to meet you!" Ed managed to mumble. The wrinkled little old woman could have been seventy years old or several hundred years old; Ed couldn't tell, but her bony grip was firm and warm, and she didn't immediately release his hand. "Mouse?" he asked. "Your name is Mouse?" The name fit well her diminutive size and high pitched, squeaky voice.

"You know the Mohawk language?" she asked, clearly surprised.

"Not at all," Ed replied. "I READ YOUR THOUGHTS AS YOU SPEAK," he added telepathically. Indeed, Ed was himself surprised to 'hear' this woman's thoughts in his own mind very clearly when she spoke. Other than Jerry and his jants, before this he had not encountered anyone that was strongly telepathic.

"MOST INTERESTING," the woman replied in kind. Ed couldn't tell if she was thinking English words or Mohawk words; in either case it seemed to be English to him. "THE TURTLE MAN AND I WILL WANT TO SPEAK OF THIS WITH YOU AFTER YOU HAVE BEEN FORMALLY ADMITTED AND HAVE RESTED. WE WILL ALSO NEED TO DISCUS THE STRANGE SPIRIT FORCE THAT YOU CARRY IN YOUR TRUCK. IT IS A SOULLESS SPIRIT OF MANY TINY MINDS, THINKING TOGETHER AS ONE. JANTS YOU CALL THEM?"

"OF COURSE!" he replied, startled that the jants had been detected by her so readily, and that his own thoughts were so transparent to her.

"For now the Bear Clan welcomes you, Ed Rumsfeld," she pronounced aloud, as she released Ed's hand. "Nice meeting you both," she directed to Mary, then turned and hobbled away with surprising speed, using her crooked walking stick. She paused and waved one tiny wrinkled hand and the half dozen fierce looking warrior guards that had been closely watching them also dispersed and disappeared from sight in the general direction of the gate.

"Mary! Ed!" a familiar voice redirected their attention. Jack O'Brian erupted from the log Administration Building, grinning in delight. He and Mary ran to each other and hugged warmly. He looked much as he did when last they met, Ed thought, as the two of them shook hands vigorously after he and Mary finally broke their embrace.

Jack was a small thin man in his mid-fifties, hardly larger in stature than Mary, but he exuded limitless energy and friendly charm. He was dressed head to toe in khakis with dozens of bulging pockets, and was laden with satchels, cameras, and binoculars strapped over his small shoulders. His head and face were covered with curly hair that framed dancing blue eyes that sparkled brightly behind thick brass-rimmed glasses. Altogether he looked every inch the geeky naturalist and anthropologist that he was. However Ed detected a few grey tinges in his otherwise light-brown hair; grey that hadn't been there three years earlier when they had last met in Virginia.

"Welcome to Giants' Rest!" Jack told them. "I have astounding things to tell you both, once you pass muster with the tribal elders!"

"Tribal elders?" Ed asked. "Do you mean the Giant's Rest School Board?"

"That is one of their functions. I watched you already charm old Tsino:wen, and she is the leader that you most had to impress, aside from old A'no:wara Ronkwe himself."

"Does A'no:wara Ronkwe mean Turtle Man?" Ed guessed. He hadn't been able to read Jack's thoughts.

"Wow!" Jack marveled. "You are simply amazing, Ed. No wonder she was impressed. It took two years before she would talk to me at all, and it was two more before I could speak directly with A'no:wara Ronkwe."

"I'm befuddled," Mary said. "What the hell just happened?"

"Just what you suspected, Mary," Jack explained. "Ed has apparently shown that he is indeed a mind-reader of some sort. He can communicate telepathically with Tsino:wen and probably with ants, and he can apparently translate foreign language effortlessly. Astounding!"

Ed was indeed also astounded by his wife. "You knew about my mental telepathy and the jants?"

"At first I suspected you were going crazy, Ed," she admitted. "What was I to think of your talking to ants and their strange behavior? Several times over the last year I saw dozens of huge ants line up in neat rows as you spoke to them. I had to talk with someone about my worries and suspicions, so naturally I confided in Jack. Jack knows a lot about strange things."

"Why didn't you simply talk with me about it!" Ed protested.

"And why didn't you talk with me?" Mary retorted.

She had him there, Ed had to admit.

"Your newfound talents are wasted on ant control, my boy," Jack remarked. "The Mohawk here have a tremendous interest in talents such as yours, as do I. I have plans for your talents that will knock your socks off, Ed."

Ed had no control whatsoever over jants, but he didn't bother to explain that. "I came here to teach history, Jack. That's my profession: I'm a history teacher. Middle-school, preferably."

"Of course you are. The Tribe reviewed your resume and they are suitably impressed. They do genuinely need teachers here on the Reservation and were glad to consider my recommendation that you be added to their teaching staff. But you shouldn't limit yourself, my boy! You should take full advantage of your talents. Besides, there are more things going on here than meet the eye. Monumental things."

"I'm rather hoping that there is much less going on here than meets the eye," Ed remarked.

The door of the Administration Building swung open again, and a stout, mid-sized, middle aged, smiling man emerged. "Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Rumsfeld!" he declared as he advanced towards them. His dark, reddish skin suggested that he was a Native American, but unlike the gate guards he wore standard American blue jeans and flannel shirt, and sported a full head of wavy black hair. "I am Mike Talking Bear, the Reservation T-G-O and Tribal Chief," he noted as he shook Ed's hand and then Mary's.

"T-G-O stands for Tribal Government Officer," Jack translated.

"Yes," added Talking Bear. "I am your federal tax dollars at work. I am elected by and work for the Tribe but I am paid by the IA. It is one means of obtaining cash for the Tribe. Additionally the USA Government was nice enough pay off all of my student loans."

"That sounds very handy," Ed remarked. "Who is the IA?"

"The US Department of the Interior Bureau of Indian Affairs," Jack again translated.

"That's right," Talking Bear confirmed, as he escorted Ed and Mary towards the Administration Building entrance. "My small staff and I are US Civil Servants. Come with me inside, Ed and Mary, and we'll sit and talk. You must be exhausted from your trip. Jack, why don't you help get their belongings to your longhouse? It will be dark in less than an hour and much colder."

"Yes sir, Chief," Jack replied, as he saluted before departing.

Talking Bear led Ed and Mary down a short hallway past several modest offices. Except for log walls they appeared to be normal business offices, including computer terminals and shelves and cabinets crammed with books and paperwork. Sadly government bureaucracy and red tape had evidently found the Mohawk, even hidden here on their remote reservation deep in the Adirondacks.

"My staff has gone home for the day; I'll have to introduce them to you at some other time," Talking Bear explained, as they entered a large office at the end of the hallway and were seated in front of a large wooden desk that featured a new looking computer terminal. "Welcome to my fortress of solitude," he exclaimed.

"It's much more modern than I expected," Mary remarked.

"By necessity," Talking Bear explained. "This is the side of our Tribe that visitors from the outside world see. Most of my staff is made up of Tribe members that have college degrees from the State University of New York, and occupy standard IA and other US Government positions. I have a staff assistant and forest, agriculture, education, and social services experts here, all conveniently paid for by the US Government. We interface with the IA in DC, with the Adirondack Park Agency, the State of New York, and other government and non-government agencies and groups, and at the same time we bring in much needed US dollars."

"That sounds like a pretty good deal for you," Ed noted. "What about teachers?"

"Our school principle has an office both here and at the IA Bureau of Indian Education school building located next door. If you survive your trial phase and become a teacher here you will become a BIE US Civil Servant and be paid as well as any teacher in New York. Salary, pension, the works! That's the good news part."

"That indeed sounds good," Ed responded.

"What's the bad news part?" Mary had to ask.

"It's not so much bad news as perhaps surprising news. We have Tribe members already that can teach history, Ed. Frankly your appointment as a teacher here serves two much more important purposes. First, the BIE has been pressuring us to hire teachers from outside the Tribe. You will become our token white teacher."

"A proud post, surely," Ed noted.

"Second, your Uncle Jack had persuaded certain Tribe leaders that you may have special abilities urgently sought by the Tribe in these troubled times."

"Tribe leaders Mouse and Turtle Man?" Ed conjectured.

"Yes. They realize that the Tribe will face a growing crisis over the coming decades. Colder climate may ruin our agriculture, and we currently provide 99% of our own food. We can't move the Tribe; for religious reasons we simply can't abandon the Mountain. But state and federal funding is declining. We are becoming more dependent on outside influences exactly at a time when outside institutions may also fail us. Plus there are other deepening troubles that Mouse and Turtle Man may in time choose to discuss with you."

"Frankly I don't see how I fit into any of that." Ed admitted.

"Frankly neither do I, but I'm only the Tribe Chief. To the outside world I lead the Tribe but Mouse and Turtle Man are clan aligned leaders and internal to the Tribe wield most true power. Mouse has already seen something in you that interests her, or she would have already had you expelled from the Reservation by our border guards."

"Those big buff guys with the Mohawk hair-cuts?" Mary asked.

"Yes. Actually those are essentially Pawnee hair-cuts, by the way, meant to help frighten and deter unwanted visitors. The war-paint is similarly Hollywood inspired. Traditionally the Mohawk favor tattoos but nowadays we prefer not to permanently mar our bodies. However they are competent fighting men. Some members of our warrior guard force are ex-Army Rangers, and others are tough iron workers that in warmer weather weld steel for New York City buildings."

"Pawnee hair-cuts?" Mary had to ask. "But everyone calls that hair style a Mohawk!"

"A Hollywood bred misconception that we don't discourage. Our Oneida brothers claim Lacrosse and a casino as part of their fame, and we Mohawk have iron workers and a popular hair style mistakenly named after us. That seems fair enough."

"The term 'Mohawk haircut' does have a niftier ring to it than 'Pawnee haircut' does," noted Ed. "But as interesting as all that is, Talking Bear, I'd just like to know when I will start teaching, who I should report to, and when and where."

"All very good questions," Talking Bear admitted. "From an administrative standpoint, given Mouse's interest in you I will immediately start the wheels of Government turning. Tomorrow I will send your Virginia teaching credentials to the New York Department of Education for their certification. That should only take a few weeks. Then we will submit your Federal Government work application to the IA BIE along with my personal letter of recommendation. The whole process should take only four or five months. With any luck we'll have you officially hired and teaching by early next spring."

"The wheels of Government don't turn very fast, do they?" Ed quipped.

"As long as you live with us I advise that you dismiss your fast paced ways."

"A slow pace of life suits us just fine, but how will we get by for the next four or five months? What will I do if I'm not teaching?"

"Two things," explained Talking Bear, "for which you will receive room, board, and a very modest salary. First you will need to become acclimated to Tribe life. Jack O'Brien can help with that, as he is several years along in that process. Second, you will do whatever the school board wants you to do. "

'Whatever' sounded a bit open ended to Ed. "By the 'school board' you mean Mouse and Turtle Man?"

"Essentially," agreed Talking Bear, "THOUGH YOU WILL FIND THAT THINGS ARE FAR MORE COMPLICATED THAN THAT."

"SWELL," remarked Ed in kind. Were all of these people telepathic? "Sounds like a plan."

****

### CHAPTER IV

### Lodge Life

"Right now those forty-foot pythons in Virginia are looking pretty damn good to me," Ed told Uncle Jack over breakfast, after spending a fitful night on a straw mattress in a cold, primitive looking, bark-covered longhouse. The good news was that there was limited indoor plumbing and limited electricity available in the lodge. A florescent lamp hung from the rafters helped to light the cavernous interior of the longhouse. The bad news was that electricity was solar-panel powered, and only present on sunny days. "What the hell have you gotten us into here?"

"It's the adventure of a lifetime, my boy!" enthused Jack, between mouth-fulls of whatever it was they were eating. "Wait until you hear about it!"

They were sitting in the longhouse common room at a crude wooden table on crude wooden chairs. The big common room they sat in ran down the center of the entire length of the longhouse, perhaps a hundred feet or so. From the bark-lined roof twenty feet above them dozens of bundles of corn-cobs, tobacco leaves, and dozens of baskets and bags were hung, most containing drying foods that would feed the household through the coming long winter. Woven mats formed walls and covered hard-packed soil floors.

Ed and Mary had over the years many times watched 'reality' TV 'house hunter' programs that showed snooty perspective buyers going psycho when during the course of a home inspection they discovered wallpaper on walls, or floors that weren't real hardwood, or counter tops that weren't granite, or bathrooms and kitchens that were 'outdated' or painted the wrong color. What would they think of a home that essentially lacked what modern folks considered to be actual walls, ceilings, floors, or kitchens? This lodge and its furnishings were 'outdated' by maybe a thousand years!

To either side of the narrow common room were more than a dozen small rooms, two of which had been assigned to Ed and Mary. One was essentially a bedroom for the couple; the second was now a storage room into which all of the contents of the U-Haul truck had been moved by Tribesmen. The Tribe even thoughtfully returned the empty rental truck to a U-Haul office in the next county, relieving Ed of an arduous drive. They also moved the Ford to the Tribe parking lot and added some sort of gunk to the fuel tank to extend the life of the gasoline. After all, Ed was told, winter was due very soon and they wouldn't be able to drive anywhere at all anyway. Swell.

Ed and Mary were grateful to have their things unloaded and with them, but what useful purpose most of their belongings could serve was quite uncertain. Ed had heard several of the Tribesmen mutter something about "firewood" as they piled crumpled boxes and damaged furniture into the storage room, completely filling it from top to bottom.

Uncle Jack occupied two rooms opposite to theirs. One was his bedroom, while the other, much larger room was crammed with ancient artifacts and bookshelves full of books and papers. A third of the room was occupied by stacks of wooden crates that carried specimens from decades of his previous archeological efforts conducted mostly throughout North America. Most of the room had crude wood tables that were piled high with old bones, pottery, wood carvings, and other items collected in Mohawk County.

"Most of my current collection occupies two more rooms at the far end of the lodge," Jack explained. "Excavation activates have ceased now until summer."

A wood fire nearby the table where they sat spat flames and provided welcome heat and light. Most smoke from it rose to the center of the common room and escaped through small openings. Several wood fires ran the length of the longhouse, tended by a pair of young Mohawk girls that constantly added wood.

An older teenage girl tended a wicker basket where breakfast was still being cooked. Occasionally she used green-wood sticks to skillfully pluck a grape-fruit-sized hot rock from one of the fires, rinse the ashes off of the rock with a splash of water, then artfully drop the stone into a big water-tight basket containing a thick porridge that Jack had identified as mush. Presumably it was the same gooey stuff that already filled the big plate in the middle of their table and smelled and tasted wonderful when combined with sweet syrup.

"Tell us about our adventure right now, Jack," Mary demanded.

"Can't," said Jack. "Tribal secrets are involved that I can only guess at. Mouse or Turtle Man will have to tell you most of it. I have my own twist to things but that too will also have to wait. Want more maple syrup with your mush?"

"Figures," Ed remarked, as he indeed poured more sweet syrup over his mush and mixed it in. "Hey, exactly what is this goopy stuff we're eating anyway? I've had corn-meal mush plenty of times but this is different."

"It's very different, Ed," said Jack. "This is mostly acorn mush, the first of the season. There is traditional white corn-meal in it also, as well as some beans, wild onions, and various herbs. The syrup is made from several tree saps that include sugar maple. Very tasty, isn't it?"

"Acorns?" Ed exclaimed. "People don't eat acorns!"

"Of course they do, Ed!" Jack informed them. "They have to compete with squirrels and bears to get them, of course, not to mention little worms and so-forth."

"I can assure you that they are safe and highly nutritious, young man!" proclaimed a new voice. "Once the dried nuts are pounded into flour and the bitter tannin is leached out of them they become a near-perfect food. We're lucky to have acorn mush so early in the season, but I suppose that early cold weather isn't altogether good news. The growing season gets shorter by the decade, I'm afraid. At some point soon the acorns won't have long enough of a growing season to mature and a key sector of the ecosystem will collapse."

Jack followed by Ed and Mary rose from the table to greet the newcomer, a short rotund white man of past middle age, with receding grey hairline, bushy grey beard and mustache, and thick bifocals. "This is my very good friend and colleague Dr. Richard Tuttle," Jack announced. "Call him Doc."

"And these are of course Mary and Ed," Doc Tuttle noted, as he quickly shook their hands before occupying an open seat at the table and reaching for the food. "Jack has been telling me a lot about you two, much of it positive."

"He has told us absolutely nothing about you, Doc," Mary noted, "except that we could expect another person for breakfast."

"I'm the token white-man medical doctor," Doc explained, as he helped himself to several big scoops of acorn mush and poured syrup over it. "I run a little health clinic near the Administration Building."

"Five years ago the Doc helped me come aboard here as the token white-man archeologist," Jack explained. "We've been working together ever since."

"The Tribe strictly regulates outsiders and the IA would only pay for the two of us," Doc added. "I could have used an entire science team here but I've had to settle for Jack. There are many things here that I needed help with in understanding."

"Things that I suppose you can't tell us about because they are Tribe secrets," Ed guessed.

"Yes I suppose that's pretty much true for now," Doc agreed. "Some things should be eased into. But we can certainly start to give you background information that will help you better understand the general situation here."

"That's our marching orders from the Tribe anyway," said Jack.

"OK," Said Mary. "How many people live on the Reservation?"

"About ten thousand or so," Doc replied, "most of them are centered here near the Mountain."

"With you extending their lives with modern medical care, why are there only ten thousand of them?" Mary asked.

"Good question," said Doc. "Electricity is limited, which leaves a lot of free time in the evenings for couples to procreate."

"Worldwide, electricity normally provides an enormous amount of birth control," noted Jack.

"Nowadays I provide modern birth control," said Doc. "Traditionally women would chew on pine needles to abort an unwanted fetus."

"Yuk!" Ed had to say. "Do many non-Mohawk people live on the Reservation?"

"Nope; everyone in the County is full-blood Mohawk except for the four of us," said Jack. "This club is very exclusive with its membership. Not even the Indians of other tribes are very welcome here, not even the Mohawk of other tribes."

"So these folks are isolationists," Ed noted.

"Rabid isolationists, historically," agreed Doc. "Over the last couple of decades however, they have by necessity begun to open up to the outside world. They have introduced selected technologies into their society, including some water and sewer technology, thank the gods! They use an off-Reservation post-office box and a growing number of them even have TVs and the internet via satellite. They send some of their best and brightest to visit the outside world for education and earnings. They farm most of their own food, but have introduced several new crop varieties to augment traditional foods and to adapt to the shortening growing season."

"Traditional corn, beans, and squash remain the primary foods," Doc noted, "and they also grow traditional artichokes, pumpkins, sunflowers, tobacco, and herbs. Additionally they harvest wild nuts, onions, and berries. They practice techniques that sustain soil resources, things that other organic farmers of the world would envy. They have practiced agriculture here for over ten thousand years. That's a very long time to practice agriculture without wearing out the soil."

"I suspect that they may have originated agriculture in this part of the world," added Jack. "They had a necessity to stay here and the only way they could do it was to develop agriculture that was sustainable."

"Historically many ancient civilizations have risen and fallen based on their agricultural practices," Ed noted. "It is a lesson that many modern societies still need to learn. What else do they eat here?"

"There are trout and all sorts of wild game," Jack added. "They have a really nifty recipe for roasted raccoon. Wait until you taste it!"

"Swell," Ed managed to respond without puking as he sought to quickly change the subject. "Tell us about clans," he requested. "We keep hearing about clans."

"The clans are matrilineal organizations that cut across tribe boundaries," said Jack. "The Mohawk have wolf, bear, and turtle clans, usually with woman clan leaders. Other Haudenosaunee Confederation tribes have those clans and several others. All the members of a clan are considered to be of one family, and members of the same sub-clan are considered to be such close family members that they are forbidden to marry each other."

"That leads to some very healthy gene mixing between clans." noted Doc, with a wink.

"What does Haudenosaunee mean?" Ed asked.

"Haudenosaunee means 'people who build a longhouse' Jack explained; that is what the Iroquois call themselves. The term 'Iroquois' is actually a somewhat derogatory Algonquian term that means bark-eater, referring perhaps to porcupines, but they don't very much mind being called Iroquois. The longhouse concept is central to the Iroquois Confederacy. A traditional longhouse has a door at each end. The Confederacy regards itself to be one big happy family that lives in one big metaphorical longhouse with a door in the west and a door in the east. The Mohawk tribes are the keepers of the eastern door of the Iroquois Confederacy."

Ed shook his head in wonder. He was familiar with the history and traditions of dozens of different European nations, but knew almost nothing of the Native American peoples that inhabited his own country.

"And what does matrilineal mean?" Mary asked.

"Families are defined by the linage of the mother," said Jack. "The marriage of a bear clan man and turtle clan woman results in a turtle clan family that will live with the turtle clan and produce turtle clan children. Clan mothers provide leadership and frankly they do most of the work and make most decisions. In the old days that used to free the men for warfare. The women tend to choose men as chiefs and sometimes as clan leaders but at the end of the day they hold most political power."

"The men no longer engage in warfare, but instead of war parties many of them go off-Reservation to school or to iron worker jobs," added Doc. "But gender boundaries are disappearing. Nowadays many men help around the Reservation doing chores that were traditionally woman's work, including farming. Likewise women are becoming more involved in what men traditionally do. Many of the women are becoming educated now, and English is universally used in the Tribe as their second language."

"And how do they keep them down on them farm once they have seen New York City?" Mary asked.

"Like most Iroquois, they have very strong tribal and clan loyalties," said Doc. "Most Mohawk iron workers still retain homes in the Lake Ontario and St. Lawrence River regions of Canada."

"And not just for tax purposes," Jack added. "The Tribe that lives here is strongly united around performing a secret mission that they have pursued for millennia."

"Millennia?" Ed responded. "You guys keep claiming that this tribe has been here for thousands of years. I thought that Native Americans tended to be somewhat nomadic. Hell, any group of humans, Native American or not, will move around a bit every few generations to find better hunting grounds or whatever."

"Not the Tribe that lives here," said Jack. "They were established here before early Egyptian, Sumerian, or East-Asian societies arose. My carbon dated artifacts indicate that they have been here at Giants' Rest for well over ten thousand years. Not even encroachment by other tribes or by the Europeans has budged them out of this valley."

"That sounds like a very long time," Mary commented.

"Much longer than there have been Mohawks or an Iroquois Confederacy," said Jack. "The Tribe joined the Mohawks a few hundred years ago and adapted much of their way of life, but they are distinct from the other Mohawk tribes. To be sure there has been some exchange of genes between this tribe and others, but that has been minimal."

"My genetic testing has confirmed that," said Doc. "Even with other Mohawk tribes there hasn't been much exchange of spouses."

"But all of this is astounding!" Ed said. "Why haven't I heard about this in the news or history journals or reality TV shows?"

Jack and Doc exchanged nervous glances.

"This relates to even bigger secrets, doesn't it?" guessed Mary. "It has to do with a Tribe mission involving Giants' Rest Mountain and the reason why this tribe has guarded it for thousands of years."

"AND THE REASON WHY YOU ARE HERE," confirmed a voice in Ed's head. He turned in his chair to find Tsino:wen standing behind him, grinning. Mouse had snuck up on the token white folks as quiet as a mouse.

"Great A'no:wara Ronkwe will see Ed Rumsfeld now," she announced with a small squeaky voice that nevertheless wielded great power and resonated telepathically in Ed's head.

****

### CHAPTER V

### Turtle Man

"Wow!" Ed had to say, when he stepped out of the longhouse with Mouse and had his first full-daylight view of the town/village of Giants' Rest. More than a dozen longhouses stretched before him, each of them several times larger than the one that he stayed in. They were all nearly the same size in terms of cross-section; they only differed in length. Some appeared to be as long as a football field.

"Each longhouse is home to over a hundred people of common clan," Tsino:wen explained. "Your smaller longhouse is where visitors to the Tribe stay, along with a rotating troupe of housekeepers, fire tenders, and cooks that treat you like royalty."

Many of the longhouses had large sheets of thick plastic tied over them, Ed noted. A few of them even sported solar panels, satellite dishes, and television antennas. Modern technology was indeed being adopted by the Tribe!

"I hear voices including singing and some flute music, but don't hear any TVs," Ed remarked, as they passed near some of the longhouses that featured rooftop TV antennas.

"When we discovered radios and TVs and so forth, we also discovered headphones," Mouse explained. "We are a musical people, but prefer to make public only our own traditional music, such as the flutes and singing that you hear."

"You have laws that restrict the noise of TVs?"

"Not laws, Ed Rumsfeld. Respect for others. Why would someone subject others to such sounds when they can be restricted? Besides, it is daytime and most people are working now. This is our busiest time of year."

Indeed nearby a great cultivated field stretched for hundreds of acres, where hundreds of tribes-people labored, picking the last of the fall crops and moving them to longhouses for processing and storage. Distant shouts and conversation could be heard, but song could also be heard coming from the fields, mostly in the form of rhythmic, wordless chanting. Among the many workers several horse-drawn carts could be seen, piled high with squash, pumpkins, and corn stocks.

"Horse use spread rapidly throughout the continent when introduced by the Spanish," Tsino:wen noted. "Carts came later, after the horses as is proper. We have adopted such white-man ways to support the multitude that we have become. The horses and their wheeled carts are useful but the horses eat much and need to be sheltered in the winter. As you white men say, there is no free lunch. We also adopt white man wisdom when it can be detected among the unending cascade of blather and foolishness."

"It's hard to believe that you can grow most of your own food without use of modern machines," Ed remarked.

"It can be done because most of our people work in the fields, when we are favored with good weather. Even the children help with plantings and harvests; school will not resume until after the snows come. However the growing seasons are becoming shorter now, and the winters are becoming longer and colder. This may have been our last corn crop, and we are starting to use faster growing varieties of squash and other foods. Expect to eat a lot of zucchini."

The two of them walked on, passing more longhouses and more fields. Women and children, along with lesser numbers of men, were everywhere, patching longhouse roofs, harvesting crops, and carrying fire-wood. The people tended towards a healthy looking thin to stocky build, he noticed, without obesity. It was cold, no more than thirty-five degrees, and these people were preparing for the far colder weather that would be coming very soon.

There were also a few dogs and cats wondering about, but they looked suspiciously like coyotes and bobcats. "THEY EAT THE VERMIN," explained Mouse. "OR AT LEAST THE VERMIN WE DO NOT EAT OURSELVES."

"Yours is a very hard-working people, Mouse," Ed remarked, "Including the children."

"By necessity. The climate change of the white man comes, and perhaps brings with it our doom, but with extra hard work we survive for now. The future is far less certain."

The longhouses and agricultural fields with busy workers gave out to forest and silence, but Mouse led Ed still further and ever upward, following a well-worn foot-path that wound ever closer to the towering granite mound that was Giants' Rest Mountain. Its peak glistened brightly in the morning sun. Too brightly!

"Is that snow on the Mountain?" Ed asked. "In early October? Isn't it too early for snow?"

Mouse laughed. "We think so too, Ed Rumsfeld. This last year the Mountain snows did not fully melt until the end of September, and snowfall resumed only a week later. We fear that in this coming year and those that follow the snow will persist on the Mountain without fully thawing, perhaps with very unfortunate consequences."

The path they followed steepened and wound about great trees and boulders. The Mountain loomed ever closer; they were clearly in its foothills now. "Is that a redwood tree?" Ed asked, as they passed by a huge tree with dark reddish-tinged bark that had a ten-foot in diameter trunk and stretched majestically hundreds of feet into the air. Other trees with darker trunks were nearby that seemed to be equally as huge.

"Yes, Douglas Fir and Coast Redwoods, you white men call these trees. They are extinct in most of the world, but our tribe nurtures them and ensures that they encircle the Mountain, to help keep evil spirits from escaping into the world. Besides, they are far too large to be used for their bark or for longhouse frames."

"Rodger that," Ed responded. Evil spirits? Ed didn't believe in spirits, evil or otherwise.

They passed several great piles of dried wood, obviously gathered there by the Tribe. They seemed to be assembled in the form of barriers that circled the Mountain. Why such a great quantity of firewood was kept here and not closer to the longhouses was puzzling to Ed, but Mouse offered no explanation.

Some of the boulders that they passed were close in size to houses, and seemed very out of place. One of the largest boulders was inexplicably surrounded by huge piles of dried wood and mounds of what appeared to be charcoal. This boulder sat more upright than the others, and was very oddly shaped. Sunlight and shadow made strange patterns on its surface, and Ed paused to stare at it.

"According to your Uncle the great rocks were placed here by glaciers," Mouse explained, in response to his thoughts about the boulders. "That is undoubtedly true for most of them."

"JACK WOULD KNOW," he replied silently.

"That great boulder indeed has unusual shape," said Mouse. "Our legends say that there is a great stone giant frozen within it. Doesn't the top part appear to resemble a great misshapen head and shoulders?"

"Vaguely," said Ed. He also noticed that most of the boulder's shape was hidden by the great piles of wood. Could there also be giant arms, torso, and legs? "I can see how such legends arose. Why is all the firewood here?"

"Our children sleep better knowing that ready-to-burn firewood and charcoal surrounds this sleeping giant."

Ed would have inquired more about the strange boulder but Mouse was already continuing along the pathway. Soon they climbed a long stairway that was hewn into solid granite and warn smooth by the press of countless moccasin-clad feet. At its top was a broad bowl shaped clearing covered with ankle to knee-high green grass.

"This is a glacier carved amphitheater called a cirque, according to your Uncle Jack," said Mouse. "We are grateful to Jack for the science knowledge that he brings to us. Our Tribe's legends speak of glaciers but Jack has told us much that our people have since forgotten."

On the far edge of the natural amphitheater a longhouse of singular aspect rose with its back against the Mountain. It was shaped like a 'V' with a huge head-like dome at its center and two conventional looking longhouses that stretched out to either side of it along the amphitheater rim like gigantic arms held wide. Several well-armed guards stood outside the dome.

"We call this the Great Lodge. Here the Tribe leaders may gather under one roof and have the great honor to confer with A'no:wara Ronkwe."

"I too will be honored to speak with him," Ed said.

"I warn you Ed Rumsfeld: do not seek to tire or deceive him. He is very old and weary."

"Certainly," Ed assured her. "What does he want to know from me?"

"TRUTH," she said simply.

The well-worn path they followed cut down and then up, straight across the grassy field of the saucer-shaped amphitheater and directly to the dome itself. As they approached the entrance to the dome a dozen women came out to greet them. Most appeared to be nearly as old as Mouse herself, and wore what Ed assumed was traditional tribal clothing. They walked stiffly and were not smiling, and Ed sensed their antagonism. Most of them averted their eyes from his, and those that did meet his gaze wore stern expressions indeed. They stopped in front of Ed and Mouse, blocking their path forward. The woman in the lead was nearly the mirror image of Mouse but was probably only in her early fifties, and she was openly scowling. "Tanon'onhkani:se'" she demanded of Ed.

"He is the Kenra:ken Ronkwe called to the Great Lodge by A'no:wara Ronkwe," Mouse answered, her tone equally stern and commanding. "Tiohrhen:sa sata:ti."

Ed translated from Mouse's thoughts that he had been introduced as the white man called here by Turtle Man, and that the Mouse demanded that further speech be accomplished using English. That suited Ed, as except for Mouse he couldn't read the thoughts of these women, and therefore couldn't translate their words into English.

"As you wish, Old Mother," the woman retorted.

"My daughter Singing Moon forgets both her manners and her place," Mouse said. "My sisters, this man is Ed Rumsfeld, nephew by marriage to Jack O'Brien."

"The Elder Council of Mothers is not pleased with this man's intrusion," Singing Moon replied.

"The Leader of the Elder Council of Mothers is not pleased with the behavior of her eldest daughter," Mouse replied. "As you well know, this man is here at our invitation."

"We seek only to protect the Tribe, Old Mother."

"As do I," Mouse replied. "Have I not always done so?" She turned her sharp gaze towards the other women, meeting the gaze of each of them one-by-one. "Does anyone here dispute that?"

"No, Old Mother," they replied in unison.

"Very well," pronounced Mouse. "If Turtle Man and I wish it, this man will stay in the visitor's lodge to help us, and in time he will meet also with you to seek your wisdom. If he does not meet with the Great One's approval and with mine he will be banished from our Tribe this very day. Further, if at any time in the future he is judged to be in conflict with the Tribe, he will be banished or worse."

Ed wondered what 'or worse' meant. Probably nothing good!

"Yes, Old Mother," the women replied in unison, with the exception of Singing Moon, who remained defiantly silent. They all stepped to each side of the path and studied Ed critically as he and Mouse walked past them and towards the Dome doorway. The armed guards had disappeared, Ed noticed. Apparently they wisely wanted no part of the terse female confrontation that had just occurred.

Wide double doors constructed of sticks and bark swung open as Ed and Mouse approached, pushed open by a pair of small boys each perhaps ten years old. Framed in the door opening stood a strikingly beautiful young women of roughly twenty years. She looked like a much younger and more cheerful version of Mouse and Singing Moon, but had larger, wider eyes.

"MORNING GREETINGS, GRANDMOTHER," the young woman thought powerfully, as she smiled pleasantly at Ed.

"GREETINGS, TALKING OWL," replied Mouse in kind. "This is Ed Rumsfeld, Granddaughter. We come heeding the call of the Great One. How does he fare this day?"

"He has again had troubled dreams, Grandmother, but he awaits you both. Please try to ease his spirit, Grandmother."

Mouse motioned Ed to follow her, while Talking Owl stepped outside. "Dreams are taken very seriously in our culture, Ed Rumsfeld," Mouse quietly explained, as they walked through a small foyer that featured several wooden stools and benches and pushed their way through a smaller inner door. "Especially the dreams of Great Turtle Man."

They stepped into a room that was both huge and ornate by any standards. More than a hundred feet across and forty foot high in the middle, the domed structure could have easily accommodated the entire long-lodge where Ed and Mary currently stayed. Instead of drying food and tobacco, hundreds of colorful art objects hung from the rafters: belts and long-bows and dyed animal skins, baskets and shirts, axes, spears, and wood carvings. On the walls great woven tapestries hung, depicting peaceful scenes of farming, hunting, and fishing, as well as battle scenes of great carnage as Tribe warriors fought other tribes and creatures both familiar and monstrously unfamiliar. Ed wasn't sure, but some of the animals appeared to be wooly mammoths, saber-toothed tigers, and other species extinct for thousands of years. Many artifacts appeared to relate to ages long past, and some items seemed to be somewhat faded and worn by time. At the center of the great dome a huge stone fireplace housed a crackling wood fire.

Hundreds of colorful hand-woven rugs covered most of the floor. Mouse squatted to untie and remove her moccasins and display surprisingly colorful cotton socks, and Ed followed her example, embarrassed that his warn old grey work-socks featured several holes in them at toes and heels.

They walked across the comfortably padded flooring, around the fire-place and towards the back of the room, where an ornate throne-chair carved from solid wood sat empty upon a raised platform-like area. To one side of the platform, a thin human figure more ancient and wrinkled than even Mouse reclined on a small bed, covered up to his chin by an ornate woven blanket and half propped up by a mound of colorful pillows. On his lap was a small laptop computer. The old man was transfixed by it visually, and was also listening attentively to it using a set of headphones.

"Great One, I bring you the one that I have spoken to you about: the white man Ed Rumsfeld," Mouse announced loudly.

The old man finally glanced up at his two visitors, smiled, sat his headphones and computer aside and reached a thin shaking hand out to Ed for a brief handshake. "Thank you for coming, Ed Rumsfeld. Please forgive my escapist preoccupation with technology; I find that I am very fond of flash mobs, particularly operatic, symphonic, and dancing flash mobs."

"Yes sir, there are some very good ones on the internet," Ed agreed.

"I would love it if the Philadelphia Opera Company would surprise me with a flash mob here in my lodge, but I don't suppose it will happen."

"Probably not," Ed agreed, thinking of the arduous drive and border guards that had to be overcome to get there.

"TALKING USING MY PITIFULLY WEAK VOICE TIRES ME. MAY I SPEAK SILENTLY? CAN YOU HEAR ME CLEARLY?" Turtle Man asked.

"I'LL DO MY BEST, SIR," Ed replied in kind.

"YOU DO VERY WELL FOR ONE NOT OF OUR BLOOD," Turtle Man responded. "MOUSE DID WELL TO BRING YOU HERE TO US."

"MY ABILITIES ARE AN ACCIDENTAL RESULT OF SCIENCE," Ed admitted. Ed recalled to them his nasty experience with the army/fire ants the year before, and how his neighbor Jerry Green had saved him by injecting him with his personal experimental drugs and how he had also been bitten by a jant. It was a story that he had kept from everyone, including Mary, and it felt good to at last tell someone about it. For some reason he trusted Turtle Man and Mouse with his secret, even though he had just met them. He briefly wondered if his trust was a notion that they had subtly given him telepathically or if it was totally his own.

"TELL US MORE ABOUT THE JANTS AND WHY THEY ARE HERE," Turtle Man requested.

Ed told them what he knew, but there was admittedly much more that he didn't know, including jant intentions towards the Tribe and humanity.

"You have been invited to be here, Ed Rumsfeld," Mouse at last stated, "but they have not. Our sacred lands and Mountain are not to be trespassed upon."

Ed hadn't ever thought of it that way. "I'm sorry; I guess that notion never even occurred to me. The jants are insects that like other insects go where they please without permission from me or any other human. They seem to want to go everywhere. But they have not harmed any humans so far as I know, and people don't appear to even notice them."

"THAT IS ONE REASON FOR OUR CONCERN," thought Turtle Man. "THEY ARE NOT EVEN NOTICED, YET THEY ARE HIGHLY INTELLIGENT AND SHARE OUR WORLD. MANY CAME HERE TO US WITH YOU, BUT WE HAVE FOR SEVERAL PREVIOUS MONTHS SENSED THE RESTLESS THOUGHTS OF COUNTLESS OTHERS FAR FROM OUR LONELY MOUNTAIN. THE MEANING OF MOST OF THEIR THOUGHTS IS HIDDEN FROM US. WE HAVE WONDERED ABOUT THE ORIGIN OF THESE STRANGE THOUGHTS AND ARE HAPPY TO AT LAST DISCOVER THEIR SOURCE, BUT WE ARE VERY CONCERNED ABOUT THE JANTS."

"I share your concern," said Ed, "and will discuss this with them."

"AS WILL WE, ED RUMSFELD," said Turtle Man. "IN THE MEANTIME WE HAVE TWO VERY IMPORTANT REQUESTS TO ASK OF YOU."

"Great!" said Ed. "I will do my very best to satisfy them, assuming they are reasonable, of course."

"FIRST," said Turtle Man, "BOTH YOU AND YOUR JANT COMPANIONS MUST STAY OFF OF GIANTS' REST MOUNTAIN."

"That's fine by me," agreed Ed, "and I'll talk to the Jants about it, though I don't really regard them to be my companions."

"SECOND," continued Turtle Man, "YOU ARE TO TRAIN YOUR TELEPATHIC ABILITIES BY TALKING WITH AN A'NO:WARA."

"With an actual turtle?"

"ESPECIALLY WITH A PARTICULAR WISE TURTLE," added Mouse.

"FROM IT YOU WILL LEARN MANY SECRETS," continued Turtle Man.

"OR YOU WILL NOT," explained Mouse. "IN WHICH CASE YOU WILL BE BANISHED AND SENT AWAY."

"OK, but considering that I'm a newcomer and unfamiliar with all this, isn't there anything else that you can tell me?"

"YOUR REQUEST IS A VALID ONE," said Turtle Man. "AS A HELPFUL HINT I POINT OUT THAT TURTLES ARE VERY QUIET AND SLOW, ESPECIALLY IN COLD WEATHER."

"Well dah!" Ed thought.

****

### CHAPTER VI

### The Quiet Turtles

"And that's all that they told you?" asked Doc, as he, Jack and Mary sat with Ed around the comfortably warm fire in their longhouse after a filling but adventuresome lunch. Actually, Ed thought that the baked squirrel entree wasn't too bad. The taste was a little gamy and they had to watch out for the tiny little bones, but over-all he thought that it was a satisfactory lunch. Ed wasn't altogether surprised to learn that his three companions had previously dined on squirrel. While she grew up with Uncle Jack Mary ate many unusual things.

"That's pretty much all they said, aside from the fact that before he was chosen to be the Turtle Man his name was Talking Turtle," confirmed Ed, who had just told the little company everything, including what he knew about the jants. It had felt good to tell Mouse and Turtle Man his secrets, and it felt doubly good to openly disclose everything to Mary and to Uncle Jack and his friend Doc.

"Nephew, you're just full of surprises, aren't you!" Jack said. "That jant business is every bit as crazy and wondrous as what's going on here with the Mohawk Tribe and their Mountain, I suspect. And I'd like to personally meet this Jerry Green fellow! He sounds to me like a kindred spirit."

"By the gods I hope not!" Ed said. Yes Jerry had saved his life, but he was also a barrel full of trouble. Now that he thought about it, Ed realized that in many respects Jack did indeed remind him of Jerry, except that although Jack was bright, Jerry was a super genius. Their similarity was an unsettling thought.

"Where are the jants that secretly traveled here with us?" Mary asked.

"Pretty much all over the Reservation by now, I suppose," Ed said. "I spoke with them first thing after visiting with Turtle Man. They said that the Mountain itself is too cold to interest them, so we don't have to worry about them not following Turtle Man's edict that they stay away from it."

"If they can be trusted," said Doc. "Who knows what the little buggers are actually thinking?"

Ed didn't come to the defense of his diminutive acquaintances. True, the jants at Jerry's request had saved his life and protected him and Mary from most climate change driven invasive critters after that, but he had never developed a feeling of closeness with them or felt that he understood them. They were after all insects, and Ed had a lot of trouble figuring out the motives and character of even his fellow humans! On the other hand he liked bugs as much as the next guy: which is to say not so much, but as with most insects, he had simply gotten used to jants being around. They were tolerable as long as they were seldom seen and weren't biting him or eating his food.

"As to my second assignment from Mouse and Turtle Man, I don't know where to even start. How does one talk with a turtle? And how will I tell which turtle is the wisest? Will the wise one spout poetry or should I give them all I.Q. tests or what?"

"To talk with a turtle you probably need to have one on hand," suggested Doc. "Maybe you should find a turtle, any local turtle, and ask it where to find the wisest turtle that it knows of. After all, maybe it takes one to know one."

"That sounds logical but we certainly haven't noticed any turtles at all since we've been here," Mary noted.

"Wrong time of the year for them," explained Doc. "Much too chilly for them lately. They've dug themselves under leaves and soil by now, and have probably gone into hibernation. Of course you probably wouldn't much notice them even in the summer; they are small, quiet, shy, and very well camouflaged."

"Swell!" Ed said. "I'm supposed to find a particular wise talking turtle and I probably won't be able to find any turtles at all, let along an awake and wise talking turtle. Besides that, I have no idea how to talk with a turtle anyway."

"Maybe you can already talk with turtles," Jack conjectured. "Maybe due to the Jerry drugs it's easy for you to talk to turtles but you just haven't met any yet since your transformation. Heck, maybe you have Dr. Doolittle-like powers and can talk with any animal. Have you been to a zoo or pet shop lately?"

"No," confessed Ed. "If I had been, wouldn't I be more likely to be able to talk with dogs and cats?"

"Probably," said Doc. "Only a hundred and seventy million years of evolution separate humans from dogs and cats. That is to say, our latest common ancestor is estimated to have lived eighty-five million years ago, allowing the thought patterns of each to diverge since that time for a total of a hundred and seventy years of evolutionary change considering our genetically separate evolutionary lines. That we can get along at all with dogs and cats must obviously be accounted for by some sort of convergent evolution, but such beasts are close cousins to humans compared to turtles. You'd have to go back in time perhaps four times as long to find a common ancestor for humans and turtles."

"Any genetic similarity may well be irrelevant though," pointed out Jack, "since you can already telepathically converse with ants that share a common ancestry with humans that is probably at least twice as ancient as your common ancestry with turtles."

"What kind of turtles live around here?" Mary asked, turning the conversation back towards something perhaps useful.

"Common wood turtles, mostly, I suspect," said Doc. "They roam about on land but like to stay within walking distance of streams."

"They have short little turtle legs and they probably move them very slow," noted Mary, "so they must remain quite close to streams."

"Maybe that's why Turtle Man reminded me that turtles are slow," Ed reasoned, "so that we would look for them near water."

"There's a small stream near here," said Jack. "Let's go."

The four of them spent the rest of the day traipsing through forests and fields near the stream in a hopeless search for turtles. They looked under countless rocks, leaves, and logs, while Ed broadcasted telepathic turtle greetings and 'listened' in vain for a telepathic turtle response. Jack noted that since a mud-covered sleeping turtle probably looked much like a mud-covered rock, they could have even found some turtles and not even realized it.

It was a tired, frustrated group that reconvened for supper at the longhouse as sunset approached. "Ever hear of a snipe hunt?" asked Jack. "As a young boy scout I was encouraged to run about in the woods all night, yelling and making weird sounds to attract fictional forest creatures known as snipes. It turned out that it was all a silly hoax of course. Our pack leaders sat back at the campfire laughing and munching down s'mores and hot-dogs while we scouts naively ran around all night making fools of ourselves. Not that we wouldn't have probably somehow made fools of ourselves anyway, of course."

"Do you think that our Mohawk friends are pulling a hoax on us?" asked Ed.

"Maybe," said Doc. "Turtles are such small minded critters I can't imagine them communicating with humans. Maybe this turtle talk business is the Mokawk version of a snipe hunt."

"No I don't think it's a hoax," said Jack. "And the snipe thing wasn't a total hoax either. It turns out that there actually are small woodland birds called snipe, but you can't find them by blundering around in the forest all night yelling. Among some Iroquois tribes the snipe is even a clan animal."

"Is there some useful purpose behind your amusing snipe parable?" Doc asked.

"Perhaps we are going about this the wrong way," Jack suggested.

"So what's the right way?" Ed responded.

"We obviously don't know, but we apparently haven't found it yet," said Mary. "However I think that Jack is right. Perhaps at this point we need to use our heads more and our feet less."

Doc shook his head. "Well then, if admitting ignorance is indeed the first step towards wisdom I suppose that we've just made some real progress. Any actual useful thoughts?"

"Let's ask the Mohawks how they find turtles," suggested Jack. "I've eaten turtle soup several times while I've lived here. It's very tasty."

"OK, then why don't you ask Tribe members about that tomorrow," said Doc. "In the meantime I'll consult the Tribe reference library about turtles."

"And I'll consult myself," said Ed. "Thanks for all the help but this is supposed to be some sort of trial for me, not you guys. Whatever the answer is, it must mostly have something to do with me and my telepathic abilities."

That night as Mary slept soundly Ed thought and thought about turtles but came up with no new ideas about how to speak with them or where to find them. With all the concentration his tired brain could muster, a hundred times he thought such things as "HELLO TURTLE; WHAT'S UP?" and then 'listened' intently for a response, but 'heard' none.

****

"Maybe it would help if I understood this talking turtle business in the context of the bigger picture here," Ed suggested to his friends the next morning over breakfast. "Like for instance why the hells am I here on this Reservation and what could it have to do with talking with turtles?"

Jack and Doc exchanged nervous glances. "The Tribe Elders know secrets that they don't share with us or possibly even with most of the Tribe," said Doc.

"Doc and I think that we've figured a lot of it out but we aren't totally sure," said Jack.

"Some of it is pretty wild and without supporting proof we'd be laughing stocks in the outside world," added Doc.

"Worse, if we blab too much about what we think we know we could be kicked off the Reservation," said Jack. "It took years before they trusted us enough to help look for a telepath for them. It took four months for me to convince them to give you a try-out, Ed. The fact that you married my niece makes you part of my family, I argued, and that may have tipped the scales in your favor. These folks are very family oriented."

"Why do they need another telepath?" Mary asked. "They seem to have several telepaths in the Tribe already."

"They have dozens, but they say that they need a telepath with very special skills," said Doc. "Ed has raw untested talent that they hope will satisfy their needs. They were eager to recruit someone that could communicate with ants."

"I can't communicate with ants, only with jants," Ed noted.

"Whatever," said Doc. "It got you in here anyway."

"And what they apparently need is someone with the ability to talk with turtles?" Ed asked. "Does that make any sense? Turtles are a Tribe clan animal, right? Tell us more about clans. Keep it simple; pretend that Mary and I just got here only a couple of days ago and don't know much of anything about Mohawk tribes or their sacred Mountain."

"Here in the Tribe the three clans tend to have different duties," began Jack. "Most men in the Wolf and Bear Clans are warriors that guard the Reservation and go off to build sky-scrapers and big bridges and come home with TVs and practical manufactured goods such as tools, clothes, and plastic sheets for roofs."

"Some hold other jobs," said Doc. "Chief Mike married into the Bear Clan and eventually landed the Tribal Chief job."

"The Turtle Clan is the most mysterious one," admitted Jack. "The Elder Council of Mothers elects one Turtle Clan man in a generation to be the Tribe Religious Chief and take the name Turtle Man."

"Turtle Man leads their religious rites, whatever the hells those are," added Doc.

"Have we fallen in with a crazy cult of turtle worshipers?" Mary asked.

"I don't think so," said Doc. "Typical Mohawk tradition is that Tharuhyawa:ka, or Sky-Holder, is the high god. But there are other old legends involved here. The Tribe is very tight-lipped about it, but it definitely has to do with evil beings that they believe dwell in the Mountain."

"Mouse mentioned something about evil dwelling in the Mountain," said Ed.

"Evil beings created by Flint, evil twin to Sky-Holder," said Jack. "I heard the legends when I was investigating the other Iroquois tribes; that's what brought me here. They say that this particular Tribe not only keeps the eastern gate of the Iroquois Nations safe from other tribes and whites, it also keeps the Iroquois and everyone else in the world safe from the man-eating Atenenyarhu: the Stone-Coats."

"Stone-Coats?"

Jack and Doc exchanged nervous glances.

"Come on guys; if you already heard this off the Reservation it can't be much of a Tribe secret," reasoned Mary. "Tell us what you know."

"The Stone-Coats are giants with skin of stone," said Doc. "They are spear and knife proof, apparently, and I bet that they'll turn out to be bullet-proof as well, if they exist."

"They are also known here and across the world as Ice Giants, because they thrive in the cold," said Jack. "The Norse and many other peoples of the world also have legends about them. I've followed the legends around the world. I suspect that this is but one mountain of many that harbors sleeping Ice Giants."

"And I suspect that you guys are complete loons," said Ed. He had hoped that he had been brought here to this culture-forsaken wilderness for some practical purpose, but this business about sleeping giants was completely crazy. "Ice Giants? This is why you had me quit my job in Virginia and come to this God-forsaken back-woods place?"

"You are our ticket to learning all the Tribe secrets about the Ice Giants, Ed," said Doc. "Even if the Stone-Coat Ice Giants don't exist in reality, understanding Tribe mythology is key to understanding Tribe behavior."

"It's the chance of a lifetime," added Jack.

"Swell," said Ed.

****

### CHAPTER VII

### Talking Owls and Hairless Bear

"Pack our bags," Ed told Mary a short time after breakfast. "I think that we need to escape this looney-bin."

Before Mary could even respond Ed walked away; away from Mary and the others and out of the lodge. He felt like taking a walk alone to further mull over what should be done next. Stone-coated man-eating Ice Giants? Talking turtles? He could see how a reclusive tribe if Native Americans might come up with such crazy delusional notions but Jack bought into these delusions, and even Doc was apparently seriously considering them. In time, so might he and Mary, if they stayed here amongst the looneys. He had to get Mary and himself away from this looney-bin!

He hadn't burned any bridges when he resigned from his teaching job in Virginia; maybe if he whined and begged they'd take him back. He had many personal limitations but he was a wonderfully talented whiner and beggar. He and Mary didn't have enough money to rent another truck but aside from a couple of suitcases they could leave all of their things here for Jack and the Tribe to enjoy as a thank-you gift for the fun-filled experience that they had enjoyed here. It was better to start fresh anyway, he rationalized. Ed was fully as talented at rationalizing as he was at whining. First thing tomorrow after one more round of tasty acorn mush and assorted roasted wild critters he and Mary would drive the Ford back to Virginia.

As he walked he found that he happened to be following the same route that Mouse had led him on the previous day. It was a calm day but over-cast and even colder than yesterday; somewhere around freezing, he estimated. Fortunately there was no wind; otherwise the light fall jacket that he wore wouldn't have kept him warm enough to continue. The chill didn't deter the Tribe farmers, he noticed. Today they again swarmed the fields like worker-ants, determined to finish harvesting all crops before colder weather and snow struck.

Nearby the jants were furiously doing the same, he sensed. They were digging little ant-scale caverns deep down into the still warm soil and gathering plant and insect remains in preparation for a very long winter. Like the Mohawks, they were in a race to finish preparations before snowfall.

"Oops, too late," he muttered, as snowflakes began to bombard him. They melted as soon as they hit the ground he noticed, but the snow would eventually stick if it kept coming down. He felt sorry for the Tribe. The climate models predicted that New England would become considerably colder over the next century, certainly cold enough to prevent these people from growing all of their own food. Like hundreds of millions of other people across the world, they would have to move somewhere else or die. These people had allegedly lived here for thousands of years, and now over the next few decades that would be coming to a bitterly cold end. Moving away from their beloved Giants' Rest Mountain would be very hard for them, since apparently their lives were centered around their crazy sleeping giant obsession.

He found himself winding his way up the trail that led to Turtle Man's palatial domed longhouse complex. Maybe since he was in the neighborhood he would stop by and tell the Religious Chief in person that he had decided to quit this farce and leave for warmer pastures. He wasn't doing them any good anyway, and if he left now they wouldn't even have to pay him. The more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that he and Mary leaving the Reservation would be a win-win deal for everyone.

As he hiked past the giant house-sized boulders he surprised to hear a woman softly crying. As he rounded a bend in the path he came upon the particular boulder that was surrounded by piles of wood. Nearby a young Tribe woman sat alone upon a fallen log, crying. Ed couldn't help notice that she was quite beautiful.

"Are you alright?" he asked her. As she looked up in surprise he recognized her; it was Talking Owl, the granddaughter of Mouse.

"I am alright, Ed Rumsfeld. It is my mentor who is slowly dying."

Ed sat down on the log near her. "Turtle Man is dying? I'm sorry; is there anything that I can do? We could have Doc look at him!"

"Doc has looked at him several times. He is a very old man; he simply nears his time to pass on to another plane. He had hoped that you could help us, but he hears your bumbling attempts and your thoughts of already giving up and leaving us tomorrow, and he despairs now anew because of what that means for the Tribe."

Ed was shocked to hear that his thoughts were telepathically being overheard by Turtle Man and perhaps others, and disturbed to hear that he was causing a dying man to despair. "I'm sorry that I have failed you," he said. "Perhaps someone else will be found that can successfully do what your mentor wishes."

"No, Turtle Man says that you are our final hope; there is no time to find another. He is certain that this winter the Atenenyarhu will awaken and there will be none of our Tribe to feel their thoughts."

"I don't believe in your Stone-Coat giants, Talking Owl."

That brought a little smile to the Mohawk maiden's pretty face. "Many in the Tribe also have doubts. Many of them now go to your cities and schools and learn white-man ways and thoughts. Even Turtle Man finds the thoughts of your scientists and philosophers to be fascinating, but he fears that the newer generations will forget our past and lose their way. We have televisions and dollars for plastic sheets and computers but begin to forget that we are The Keepers of the Eastern Gate of The People Who Build a Longhouse, and that since long before joining the Mohawk we have been the guardians of Giants' Rest Mountain. When the great cold again comes and the Atenenyarhu wake, we must again try to stop them from harming our world, because that is who we are. But without your help Turtle Man thinks that we may fail."

"So you do indeed believe in Stone-Coat giants?"

"I believe in my people and in Turtle Man. I came here to ask the Hairless Ohkwa:ri if he exists, and again he gives me no answer. But then I cannot even talk with turtles, so mine was a foolish act of pure desperation. Among the Tribe and the Iroquois only Turtle Man can talk with turtles."

"What is the Hairless Ohkwa:ri?"

"THE HAIRLESS BEAR, ED RUMSFELD," she replied. "I FORGET THAT I MUST CLEARLY THINK MY MOHAWK WORDS FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND THEM."

"There is a bear here somewhere?" Ed asked, glancing about apprehensively. "Is it dangerous?"

"It is not really a bear. Hairless Bear is the name for the Stone-Coat hidden within this great boulder. There are Mohawk legends of the monster bear, but our Tribe knows that this Stone-Coat is the one located the furthest down the Mountain. It is an advance scout for its kind, we believe. It is very dangerous if it wakes up; when asleep it is a harmless rock."

Ed glanced up at the strangely shaped boulder. The rounded shape at its top did indeed very much remind him of a bear's head. "And you hoped to talk with it today?"

"Actually on one hand I hoped that I would again not hear it at all, because if I did hear it at all, it might indeed be waking up. On the other hand if I did hear it, then Turtle Man would be greatly relieved that someone besides him can hear the Stone-Coats, at least as they awaken. The best case outcome would be if I were able to confirm that the Stone-Coats do not intend to wake soon. That is what Turtle Man hoped that you would be able to do. But I have now again failed in my attempt to sense both turtles and Stone-Coats, as I have failed many times before."

"Turtle Man has talked with Hairless Bear?"

"Once, briefly, when he was young. It began to wake when we were having very bad winters. But then warmer weather returned and Hairless Bear once again slept soundly. Mostly Turtle Man hears the Stone-Coats quietly dream confusing thoughts. But now in the winters he senses that they again begin to wake."

Delusion and religious mumbo-jumbo, Ed figured. "Can you explain what turtles have to do with any of this?"

"It is said that turtles think and dream quietly and slowly, much like the Stone-Coats. Over many generations my people have found that people who can talk with turtles can often hear the Stone-Coats dream and can sense their feelings as they wake. Turtles also listen to the Stone-Coats and know things about them. Turtle Man hoped that if you discovered that turtles can talk, you would be willing and able to listen to them and to the Stone-Coats."

"I don't believe that turtles talk either, Talking Owl. People talk, maybe dolphins talk, but certainly not turtles. Turtles have very small brains that are far too tiny to form thoughts of interest to humans. So do owls, by the way. So far as I can tell, only humans actually talk."

Talking Owl laughed and shook her head. "What a dull and lonely world you live in, if you believe that, Ed Rumsfeld! All that live in this world talk in some fashion, you have only to learn to listen and speak to them using the voices that you hear! If I convince you that owls can talk, will you concede that turtles might also talk?"

That sounded to Ed like a very safe bet. "OK, if you convince me that owls talk beyond hooting, I will consider it possible that turtles also talk."

"Would you then remain on the Reservation to talk with turtles and Stone-Coats?"

"Certainly, if I am helped by the Tribe to do so. I don't think I can even attempt what you suggest without some Tribe help."

"That is what Turtle Man hoped that you would agree to when he sent me here to wait for you," she said, smiling.

As Ed jaw dropped open in surprise, movement filled the air around them. Dozens of owls large and small landed quietly to perch on the log next to Talking Owl and himself, and in nearby bushes and trees. As one, all of them swiveled their heads to regard Ed with their huge all-knowing eyes!

****

"So now you want to remain here and try again to talk with turtles?" Mary asked, as the four token white-people sat around their table for lunch, which consisted of some sort of tasty combination of squash, corn, and beans. The Three Sisters, these vegetables were called.

"Certainly," Ed replied. "But this time I'm going to get coaching help from the Tribe. The situation here is apparently becoming so desperate that they are willing to cut some corners with regard to traditional telepath training."

"Really!" Doc responded. "Where the heck did you go this morning and who did you talk to?"

Ed told them about Talking Owl, Stone-Skin Ice Giants, the owls, and his agreement to stay.

Jack was elated. "I can hardly believe it! After all my years of research on myths I have finally hit the jackpot! Talking Owl is the apprentice of Turtle Man , and she came right out and openly confirmed all of my suspicions! The Stone-Coats are real, and if we play our cards right we'll get scientific proof of that! It will be the greatest discovery since the pyramids!"

"She only confirmed that the Tribe believes in their myths," said Ed. "That doesn't make the myths true."

"However, myths generally reflect some sort of truth," said Doc. "I'm a man of science and have serious doubts myself about actual Stone-Coats. The science seems impossible. There are seeds and other simple living things that can survive long periods of dormancy but nothing large and complex could survive for thousands of years. The notion of giants sleeping inside stone for millennia is totally absurd. You apparently still doubt the existence of Stone-Coats yourself, and yet you agreed to stay on the Reservation to look for them, Ed. Why?"

"I bet that this Mohawk maiden you met in the forest is very attractive," said Mary. "Am I right?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Ed protested.

"I happen to know that you're a sucker for good looking chicks with trained owls," she said.

"Me too," admitted Jack. "I'm glad that you're staying, but Mary has a point. Could these owls have been trained to merely act as if they were speaking with her? Doc and I have seen a lot of animals on the Reservation being very chummy with their Mohawk friends, but that doesn't make them telepathic. I've found that when dealing with alleged phenomena of this sort, ninety-nine percent of it is parlor tricks. And having a beautiful woman as the assistant to a flim-flam magician is the most common trick of all."

"She taught me a few owl words that I can telepathically use myself," Ed said. "That's what convinced me. They don't respond as well to me, of course, since they don't really know me yet, but a few of them do respond. One of them even followed me home. I asked her to wait outside while I ate lunch. Want to meet her?"

"If she doesn't mind," said Mary.

His three companions watched as Ed stood up next to the table and held out his right arm. They gasped when a huge owl flew through the open door at the far end of the longhouse and seconds later landed gently on Ed's right wrist. The several Tribal children tending the fires hardly paid any attention to the spectacle at all, as if this sort of thing happened every day.

"She's hungry and disappointed that we have nothing to feed her but vegetables," Ed informed his companions. "At least that's what I think she said." The owl squawked and flew back outside in order to hunt for acceptable food.

"Aren't owls nocturnal?" Mary asked.

"Not totally," said Doc. "Many also hunt during the day. I've never had a great horned owl follow me home or land on my arm, however."

"I don't suppose that your owl friend knows where to find turtles?" asked Jack.

"No, but Talking Owl explained to me where to look."

"Where?" Mary asked.

Ed tapped his forehead with his index finger. "In my thoughts and dreams. We don't have to physically find any turtles; their thoughts are all around us, along with the thoughts of everything else nearby. Since my escapade a year ago with Jerry and his jants I have always experienced a sort of background noise in my head, similar to a great crowd of people talking all at once. Talking Owl says that I need to learn how to break up the noise I sense into the thoughts of individuals, including the thoughts of individual turtles."

"And eventually the thoughts of Stone-Coat Ice Giants," added Doc.

"If I have the chops for it," said Ed. "Talking Owl and Mouse will coach me."

"Swell," said Mary.

****

### CHAPTER VIII

### Token Whites of the Tribe

To Ed's disappointment it wasn't the lovely Talking Owl or even her Grandmother Mouse that soon visited them, but Chief Mike Talking Bear. "I've been instructed to inform you that there will be a ceremony tomorrow to officially adopt the four of you wayward whites into our Tribe. Your attendance is of course mandatory. Congratulations!"

As the Chief shook their hands Jack O'Brian was the first to recover from the announcement. "Can such a thing be done within Tribal law? None of us are of Iroquois blood; none of us even have Native American ancestors of any kind as far as we know."

The Chief shrugged his burly shoulders. "Turtle Man and the Elder Council of Mothers require that it to be done, so it will be done. This is without precedence in the history of the Tribe, but we will be prepared by tomorrow. I have the Tribe lawyers working on the paperwork now."

"Wait a minute!" said Mary. "It is _required_ that we join the Tribe? What if we don't want to?"

"If any of you refuse you will all immediately be evicted from the Reservation."

"But Talking Bear, just this very morning I established an agreement to stay here with Talking Turtle through Talking Owl!" protested Ed. "Don't you talking owls and turtles and bears talk to each other?"

"Considering Tribe security, I persuaded Turtle Man and the Elders to amend your agreement to include the requirement that you and your companions first join the Tribe."

"Tribe security?" Ed muttered in puzzlement.

"OK," said Doc. "Now I get it. This is a way for you to safeguard Tribal secrets. We're going to make pledges and sign legal papers and so-forth, aren't we?"

"That's much of it," Chief Talking Bear admitted. "We want your help but we don't want to be overrun with reporters, government investigators, or the military, and read about ourselves in supermarket and internet tabloids. In brief what happens on the Reservation has to stay on the Reservation. Short of killing you all when you are no longer needed this is the best that we can do."

"When you put it that way Chief, joining the Tribe sounds like a really good idea," said Ed. "And it will of course be a great honor. Tell the rest of the Tribe that we gladly accept."

Jack looked like he was going to object but Doc put a silencing hand over his mouth.

"What do we have to do?" Ed asked.

"Simply show up at the Great Lodge of Turtle Man at nine-thirty tomorrow morning. We'll do all the heavy lifting."

"What should I wear?" Mary asked. "I have a formal gown packed away someplace, just in case Ed ever takes up ballroom dancing."

"When pigs fly," muttered Ed.

"It doesn't matter what you wear," said Chief Mike. "We'll dress you all up in Tribal garb anyway."

"Hey, we won't have to pay Tribe dues or anything, will we?" Ed asked. "I'm pretty tapped out until you pay me."

"No," the Chief reassured them. "You can't buy your way into the Tribe; this one is on the house." He glanced at his watch. "Got to get back to the office now, folks. A VIP visitor has dropped in for an unexpected visit. I'll see you all tomorrow morning!"

"Why should we agree to this?" protested Jack after the Chief was gone. "We won't be able to publish research papers or have artifacts examined by other researchers. Joining the Tribe will be a complete disaster from a scientific research perspective."

"Not as complete a disaster as being dead would be," noted Doc. "I've known these people longer than you have, Jack. Chief Mike was serious when he mentioned killing us as a viable alternative to joining the Tribe. There have been rumors about rebellious Tribe members disappearing and perhaps becoming parts of New York City building foundations."

"I agree," said Ed. "Besides, a plan has been forming in my head about how to save these people from themselves. Listen, we'll play along with whatever they want us to do and truly try to help them, but I guarantee that no stony coated Ice Giants will materialize. This winter the Ice Giants will be shown to be purely mythical and this whole big worry of theirs will all go away. By next summer we'll lead these people away from their myths and kicking and screaming into the twenty first century so that then they can move to a warmer climate where they can still happily grow their corn, beans, and squash if they want to.

"Wouldn't rescuing them from their Mountain obsession be a thing worthy of our efforts? Jack, even if talking with turtles doesn't pan out, talking with birds will be a sensation, and moving this tribe from myth to science will be quite a story in itself. Write research on that if you want to, since by this time next year they'll let you publish it. This whole tribal secrecy thing should go away once they are convinced that there are no Stone-Coats. Maybe they could even create a ski resort and casino here!"

"That all sounds viable and worthwhile," agreed Doc. "I want these people to get recognition for their amazing ancient roots, but I never bought into the Stone-Coat myth. I always figured it was a myth designed in the distant past to help keep their leaders in power, just like a lot of other myths held world-wide are. The required science involved for giants to sleep for centuries inside of boulders and mountains is simply impossible. Let's prove that to these people and try to save them. Yours is a good plan."

"Belief in myths is too deep to eradicate from a culture overnight," Jack cautioned, "but I suppose we can at least give them a good push in that direction. We should be able to make your plan work."

"Except for one tiny thing," said Mary. "What if their myths aren't simply something made up by their religious leaders to keep themselves in power? What if there actually are Stone-Coat Giants?"

"Not a chance," said Ed.

****

"I'm John Running Bear, special envoy for the National Congress of American Indians," the visitor announced, as he sat across a small table from Tribe Chief Mike Talking Bear and Mouse, Leader of the Elder Council of Mothers. "I am here to urge your participation in NCAI supported events. This Monday is Indigenous People's Day for America. The NCAI again urges that you join us in celebrating this day, and also urges that next summer you also celebrate the International Day of the World's Indigenous People established by the United Nations. I hope to stay here through Monday to help you organize your participation."

"We were informed of your visit by the Embassy of Tribal Nations in Washington," said Chief Mike. "We of course told them again that we have no interest in such events. Let the white men celebrate their Columbus Day in peace next Monday if they wish to. It and your counter-celebration on that same day mean nothing to us. Our views on this have been made clear to your organization many times. Yet here you are, only a few days prior to the holiday in question, making an obviously fruitless attempt to change our minds practically overnight. That is foolish.

"I am even more concerned that I met you several years ago at the Oneida Turning Stone Casino," continued Talking Bear. "Then your name was not Running Bear, and you claimed to be Tuscaroran. Your lies perhaps fooled the Oneida, but not me."

Running Bear certainly hadn't realized that he had previously met the chief of this reclusive Mohawk tribe. Chief Mike Talking Bear must not have been publicly advertising his own real identity.

"You spoke truth to us now but not the whole truth, Mohican," said Mouse sternly. "Tell us fully and truthfully why you are here."

The rattled Running Bear hadn't yet mentioned his true tribal affiliation. "Please forgive my deceptions. When we apparently met years ago I was scouting out the Oneida casino to understand if there were lessons to be applied to our plans to establish a Mohican casino in New York State. True, I work for many masters, and have sometimes avoided telling the full truth in order to do so. Although I do in fact work at the behest of my tribe for the NCAI, I do now confess that is not why I am here today."

"We do not have time for games and have no casino here," said Mouse. "Tell us now about your other employer and why you are really here. Tell us what the NSA wants with the Mohawk."

They knew that he was a NSA agent! Running Bear had heard stories about Mouse of Giants' Rest. It was rumored that she could read thoughts. Now he realized that those reports must surely be true, and that it was not possible to lie to these people. "Yes, I work for branch of the US Government Agency known as the NSA that tracks down and nullifies bio-terrorists. They search for a highly wanted fugitive known as Jerry Green, who was in the past a neighbor to Ed and Mary Rumsfeld. The Rumsfelds recently moved to this reservation. I was assigned to come here and look for Jerry Green."

"You did not need to use deceit to do so," admonished Chief Mike. "You seek a fugitive white man. We have well established FBI links that could have been used to determine if Jerry Green is here. Why weren't those used?"

"The NSA likes to do things for themselves," Running Bear explained truthfully. "The NCAI likes to monitor and when possible limit NSA intrusions into Native American affairs. I have gained enough trust in the NSA organization to be involved in most such intrusions and to limit them. In this instance I strive to limit their intrusion into the affairs of your tribe."

"You are a Native American 'mole' in the NSA," said Mouse, smiling. "You should have simply said so."

"Jerry Green is not here now and never has been here," said Chief Mike. "Ed and Mary are here and under our scrutiny and protection."

"I thank you for that information, but there is one more area of NSA concern," said Running Bear. "What do you know of the jants?"

"We are told that the jants were created by Jerry Green," said Mouse. "Jants were brought here by Ed Rumsfeld, though he did not do so with malice. They saved his life and he owes them a degree of loyalty, but even he does not fully trust them. We are concerned that the jants invade our homelands and have great intelligence but do not share their intentions with us, at least not yet. Are not your NSA employers similarly concerned? We sense that far beyond our Mountain countless jants abound. They broadcast powerful cyphered thoughts to communicate with each other and to think together as one great mind."

This startled Running Bear. How could insects possibly have intentions? They were intelligent and telepathic? In what sense did they think together? Sheffield had hinted at possible intelligence, but could it actually be true? They were so strongly telepathic that even here on their remote reservation the Mohawk could sense that jants were widespread? He would have to somehow tell Sheffield what he had learned, without entangling the Mohawk in it. "The NSA is very concerned about all invasive species," he at last mumbled.

"Tell us about your boss Dr. Sheffield," Mouse said.

Crap! She truly was reading his thoughts! "Dr. Sheffield is one of the most sensible people in the NSA. I was drawn to working with him because of this. I believe that he has a good heart. As the climate crisis deepens the NSA infringes ever more on the rights of all peoples, including Native Americans. My NCAI mission is to influence the NSA through Sheffield, in favor of the Native American tribes. I seek to limit NSA prying into Native American affairs."

"We share a common interest on that point," noted Chief Mike. "We seem to also share common concerns about the jants. Perhaps these are areas we could pursue to our mutual benefit?"

"That sounds interesting," said Running Bear. "I think that Dr. Sheffield would agree with sharing jant knowledge. It will have to be done with great care, however."

"In return you must see to it that the NSA stays out of our Tribe business," said Mouse. "Specifically stay away from our Mountain and from Ed and Mary."

"The only NSA interest in Ed and Mary Rumsfeld is to find Jerry Green," said Running Bear. That was true, as far as he knew.

"Ed doesn't know where Green is, but the jants might," said Mouse. "If we find out where he is we will tell you personally."

"Excellent!" agreed Running Bear.

Running Bear then told them what he knew about the jants, which wasn't really anything more than they already knew. But that was alright, their main concern was to deter prying by the NSA, and hopefully they had done that. And if they hadn't, at least now they were alerted to the threat of NSA meddling.

Running Bear had in turn obtained Mohawk confirmation that jants were sentient and telepathic; something that Sheffield would hopefully be thrilled with.

"May I stay here the night to rest before returning to Washington?" Running Bear asked his hosts. "The drive here was horrendous!"

"That won't be necessary," Chief Mike replied. "We happen to have trucks that are leaving Giants' Rest right away. They will deliver mail to a nearby town and return with mail and supplies. Our men will be able to drive you off of the Reservation immediately. There is heavy snow forecast that could otherwise strand you here indefinitely. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Of course not," replied Running Bear.

Only when he was many miles from Giants' Rest did Running Bear allow himself to think freely about his encounter. He had achieved considerable success but had fallen far short of total triumph. In the end they had firmly booted him off of their reservation. They were obviously hiding something, but probably not Jerry Green.

He would need to convince Sheffield to keep him on this case as the ongoing NSA interface with the Tribe. He would keep secret their pledge to possibly provide the location of Jerry Green. If Sheffield's hard-ass boss caught wind of a strong lead concerning Jerry Green he would probably flood the Mohawk Reservation with agents, regardless of laws and treaties. In fact, to avoid an NSA invasion of the Reservation, he should not reveal the presence of jants on the Reservation to even Sheffield.

What were these Mohawk hiding? He simply had to know! Did it relate to the Stone-Coat myth? He had meant to bring up the subject but hadn't. Why not? He now suspected that he had been subtly manipulated as he spoke with the Mohawk. He had been altogether too cooperative with them!

Or could they be lying about Jerry Green? Could they be hiding Green somewhere on the Reservation? In any case he had to prevent the NSA from assigning more agents! He had to reassure Sheffield that he was personally confirming that Green was not hiding on the Reservation.

It irked him that white men O'Brien and Rumsfeld were allowed to be on the Mohawk reservation to learn Mohawk secrets while he was shut out. He had to get onto the Reservation, both to confirm that Jerry Green was not there and to find out what other secrets the Mohawks held from him! Since the Keepers of the Eastern Gate had shut their front door in his face, he would need to use the back door. Fortunately he had already researched other Reservation entry points and found a back door. Cautious man that he was, he never entered a place without knowing of back doors.

****

Ed, Mary, Jack and Doc fretted and talked for hours about what was to happen to them the next day before at last attempting sleep. Morning came all too soon, and after eating acorn mush it was time for them to set off. When they later returned to their lodge they would themselves officially be Mohawk!

It was a cold, crisp morning, and dark clouds promising snow gathered ominously overhead as Ed led the four inductees to the Great Lodge of Turtle Man. Ed's new owl companion flew overhead from tree to tree, occasionally hooting as it watched over them. This was Mary's first hike to the Great Lodge, and she was as excited as Ed had been to discover the great wood piles, trees, and boulders that adorned the Mountain foothills. Even with winter coming this was a place of great natural beauty. He led them quickly past the spooky Hairless Bear boulder however, as they were rushed for time.

Ed wasn't surprised when Talking Owl and her father Chief Talking Bear greeted them outside the Great Lodge; besides telepathy their progress towards the Lodge was made evident by the hooting owl that accompanied them. Both of the Mohawk were ornately adorned in colorful near-traditional clothing that made Ed and his friends feel drab by comparison.

That was soon remedied. In one of longhouses adjoining the central dome of Turtle Man, each of the inductees was led to a separate room where they were stripped and dressed in traditional Mohawk clothing. Mary was thrilled with her soft leather dress adorned with patches, beads, and other colorful do-dads.

The men were less pleased, but they stoically endured their own transformations with few complaints until they were returned to the lodge common room where a waiting crew of Mohawk women insisted that all facial hair be shaven from hairy-faced Jack and Doc. The two hairy men nearly rebelled at that point. "I've had this beard for over twenty years," Doc complained.

"You will be permitted to grow it back after the ceremony," explained White Cloud, Chief Mike's handsome young administrative assistant. "Your face must not be hidden when you make your Tribal vows. The Elder Mothers wanted your facial hair plucked out, but Mouse interceded on your behalf such that they finally decided that to merely shave it off would be satisfactory."

"Remember the alternative to this ceremony, gentlemen!" Ed reminded them. He mimed the slitting of his throat to make sure that his remark was understood.

"OK then; lucky us!" Doc conceded, as he finally allowed the troop of giggling women to attack him with safety razors. "At least they aren't shaving the tops of our heads, though that wouldn't have been a big job in my case, as almost all my hair is on my face."

"And the shave is free!" observed Jack, as the women dabbed his beard and moustache with some sort of gel and shaved them off. "Excellent price for a good shave!"

"True; it's hard to beat free!" agreed Ed.

"Well I'll be damned!" proclaimed Doc cheerfully, after they finished shaving him. "My face doesn't itch anymore! Who-da-thunk-it! And I won't have to wash the soup and other gummy stuff out of it after I eat!"

"We both look ten years younger too!" noted Jack, as he studied his hairless face in a small mirror supplied by the women. "Maybe this shaving business is alright!"

"You'll miss that face hair when the winter cold sets in," predicted Ed, "but then you can't have everything."

"Almost time for the ceremony to start," noted White Cloud. "I'll see how Mary is coming." He excused himself and returned shortly along with Chief Mike. Between the Tribally adorned men strode the widely grinning Mary Rumsfeld, Mohawk version.

"Holy Moses!" Ed proclaimed, when he caught sight of his transformed wife. "You're an Indian Princess!" he told her, as he greeted her with an energetic hug.

"Then you must be my Indian warrior," she replied, smiling.

"He will be shortly," agreed the Chief. "Now we are to all gather outside the Dome of Elders and begin the proceedings."

"Exactly what will we have to do?" asked Ed, who always worried about doing the right thing during ceremonies.

"Follow my lead and do what I tell you to do," reassured Chief Mike. "Generally speaking all that you will need to do is answer our questions affirmatively. Remember that 'hen' is the Mohawk word for 'yes' and use it often. Otherwise we'll all mostly use English. We have made things so simple that even a white man should be able to do it."

Ed remained apprehensive, but hand in hand with Mary, he and the other inductees followed Chief Mike outside where an astonishing sight greeted them. The natural mountainside amphitheater outlined on two sides by the Great Lodge was filled to the brim with witnesses to the commencing ceremony. Nearest to them stood old Turtle Man, propped up on each side by Mouse and Talking Owl. Behind and around them stood several rows of Tribal Elders, perhaps a hundred of them, mostly women. All were dressed as elaborately as the chiefs. Most were smiling.

In the very front row Ed noticed Singing Moon, who was definitely not smiling. She was scowling, as usual. Oh well, you can't always please everyone, he figured, and Singing Moon was evidently one of those unhappy people that couldn't be pleased any of the time.

The men each wore one to three large feathers in their hair, Ed also noticed. Eagle feathers?

"TURKEY FEATHERS," Mouse replied to Ed's unspoken question. "NO EAGLES WERE HARMED IN PREPARATION FOR YOUR CEREMONY. LIKE YOUR BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, WE APPRECIATE AND HONOR THE TURKEY ABOVE EVEN THE EAGLE. THEY ARE FATTER AND TASTE BETTER."

The inductees were most astonished to note that beyond the Tribe Elders dozens of black and grizzly bears quietly stood on four clawed feet, while beside them lounged a couple of dozen grey wolves and an equal number of coyotes. All stared attentively at the inductees as if they were sizing up a meal. Behind them stood row after row of Mohawk men, women, and children: probably the entire tribe, from the look of it!

"But grizzlies and grey wolves are extinct in New York!" Doc muttered.

"Not in and around Mohawk County," Chief Talking Bear explained. "Bear and Wolf clans would not be complete without actual bears and wolves." He waved one of his hands at the bears and they all reared up on their hind legs and growled in response. White Cloud waved similarly to the wolves and they raised their heads and howled. As they did, dozens of hawks, eagles, and owls circling overhead screamed and screeched, and thousands of the gathered Mohawk shouted in delight!

"TOO COLD FOR TURTLES," added Turtle Man silently. "I REPRESENT THE TURTLES. WE ARE NOT AS IMPRESSIVE AS BEARS AND WOLVES ANYWAY."

"We need proceed quickly with the ceremony however, lest our guests eat each other and the Tribe," Talking Bear added. From somewhere in the crowd drums began to softly and rhythmically beat, soon accompanied by rattles, softly chanting voices, and occasional growling and howling. Holding his head high, the Chief marched in time with the drums and led the inductees to stand near Turtle Man and his supporters.

White Cloud produced a folder of papers which he handed to Talking Bear, and the Chief opened it and turned to face the inductees.

"Do each of you wish to become Kanien'kehaka?'" he shouted aloud so that all those gathered could hear.

"Hen!" they shouted back, just as Ed belatedly realized that the Chief had forgotten to tell them the Mohawk words for any other possible response. Or perhaps 'no' was simply not an option.

"Do each of you pledge to ally yourself with your Tribe and your Clan above all other alliances?" he asked the inductees.

"Hen!" Ed and the others responded loudly, though they couldn't help thinking of chickens when they did so. This is exactly what they expected to pledge. Ed was encouraged that they were getting right into the thick of the ceremony so quickly. He never particularly liked ceremonies of any sort.

"Do you pledge your lives to guard Tribe secrets from outsiders, and to honor Tribe traditions and practices?"

"Hen," the inductees again promised, this being pretty much the other thing that the inductees expected.

"Do you pledge to treat all tribe members and all mankind as you would have them treat you?"

"Hen," they all pledged. The Golden Rule! The inductees certainly hadn't expected that one!

The Chief pointed at Ed but turned to Mouse and shouted: "Naho:ten ronwa:iats!"

"Ati:ron ronwa:iats," Mouse replied as loud as her squeaky voice could muster, which Ed was able to translate.

"MY NAME IS RACCOON? YOU HAVE GIVEN ME THE NAME RACCOON?" Ed asked Mouse telepathically.

"THEY ARE CUTE, CLEVER, MISCHIEVOUS CREATURES, ED RUMSFELD; YOU SHOULD FEEL GREATLY HONORED!" she replied.

Similarly the name 'Arosen' meaning 'squirrel' was soon given to Mary, and she seemed relatively pleased with it, though she felt a bit guilty that she had recently eaten squirles. Somewhat to the disappointment of Jack and Doc, they were simply named Sak and Resis, which strangely enough were the direct translations of the names Jack and Richard.

At that point the drumming intensified and Chief Talking Bear handed several papers to Ed for him to sign using an ordinary ballpoint pen. The papers were written in English, though it was inscrutable legalese English. However, small Post-its fortunately clearly indicated where he was to sign using both his English and Mohawk names. He signed the papers quickly, without attempting to read anything except the Post-it instructions, and was rewarded with thunderous drumming and shouting and a little hug from Turtle Man when he handed the signed papers back to Talking Bear.

"Welcome to the Turtle Clan, Brother," Turtle Man told him, his voice soft but his thoughts strong.

After the others soon accomplished their own signing procedures Ed mistakenly suspected that the ceremony was over. Far from it! To his surprise each of the hundred or so Tribe leaders individually pledged to acknowledge the Tribe status of the new inductees, and this was followed by a mass pledge to that effect from the entire Mohawk crowd. This was followed by much shouting, singing, and dancing and a sensible retreat from the commotion by the bears and wolves. The inductees were almost moved to tears by this show of affection and unity. They had all been officially adopted into the Mohawk family!

Some sort of drink called 'grog' was passed around in a jug to the new Tribe members and they each endured a swig of the strong brew, whatever it was. "Blackberry brandy, I suspect," pronounced Doc. "Damn good stuff." Ed very much liked the brandy. He enjoyed being a Mohawk so far and was hopeful that the jug would soon be passed back to him. Unfortunately Chief Talking Bear interceded and pulled his new recruits aside. "So ends the first part of the ceremony," he told them.

"There's more?" Ed asked.

"Just a short private visit inside the Great Dome," he told them.

"We're going to get our marching orders, Raccoon," Doc predicted as they followed Talking Bear towards the Great Dome.

"And none too soon," Mary noted. She held a hand out to catch some of the big snowflakes that suddenly filled the air. The rest of the Tribe rapidly disappeared, off to complete a hundred chores that needed to be done in order for the Tribe to survive the coming harsh winter.

****

### CHAPTER IX

### Bear Claw and Hairless Bear

Following in the slow footsteps of Turtle Man, Mouse and Talking Owl, Talking Bear and the four new Tribe members at last entered the Great Dome. There the senior Tribe leaders suddenly became very agitated. There were sharp commands from Mouse and Talking Bear, followed by considerable running about by several young underling Tribe members.

"The Eternal Flame has become nearly extinguished due to lack of fuel," Talking Bear explained to the puzzled new Tribe members. He pointed at the big fireplace at the center of the dome, where firewood was hastily being placed atop glowing ambers and fanned into flame. "The children assigned to maintain the Flame were drawn to your induction ceremony, causing the lapse. They will of course be demoted."

"That sounds a bit severe to me," voiced Mary. "There are several other fires in this wonderful Dome that have maintained its warmth." This was her first time in the Dome of Elders, and she looked around in open wonder at the wonderful artful crafts displayed in it.

"Warmth of the Dome at-large is not the primary concern, Squirrel," explained Mouse. "Warmth of the Bear Claw is the concern."

"Bear Claw?" Ed asked.

"Yes," said Mouse. "Sit with us and we will speak of this, for it is the reason you are now here."

Mouse and Talking Owl helped Turtle Man lay upon his bed. The old man was smiling but obviously exhausted from the long ceremony and the incident involving the near extinguishing of the Eternal Flame. "EXPLAIN THEIR DUTIES, MOUSE," he thought. "I MUST REST."

"Yes, Great One," responded Mouse. Mouse, Chief Talking Bear, White Cloud, and the four new Tribe members sat in chairs that were arrayed around the Great One as he declined, while Talking Owl attended Turtle Man with sips of grog and water.

"First off, what do the four of you think of the ceremony and your induction into the Tribe?" Mouse asked.

"I thought it was wonderful," said Mary.

"After being here for eight years I finally feel that I am a part of this Tribe now," seconded Doc. "I am deeply grateful and hope that I can live up to the honor you have bestowed upon me."

"It was an astounding experience," voiced Jack. "I only hope that someday you allow us to share it with the world at-large."

"True, it would have made an outstanding flash-mob internet video," noted Ed. "But I gather that there are very serious reasons beyond our amusement that we have been brought into the Tribe."

"That is so," agreed Mouse. "We face great danger, and seek your help. You will all be moved into the Great Lodge to accomplish your new duties. Do you agree to this?"

"Of course," the new Tribe members muttered.

"Your duties are in two areas. First, as has already been outlined with Ed, we fear that the Stone-Coats are waking and we need Ed to learn to talk with turtles and Stone-Coats."

"I'll give it my best shot," said Ed.

"Second, we have decided that Doc and Jack might be able to help us better understand the danger by applying their science backgrounds," Mouse continued.

"That sounds very interesting," Jack remarked.

"And perhaps very dangerous," said Mouse. "We have had in our possession for several centuries something that you would call an 'artifact' which we now want you to study using science. We call it the Bear Claw."

Two burley tribesmen carrying long iron tongs appeared and with great care pulled aside a Basket-ball sized stone block that formed part of the central fireplace that housed the Eternal Flame. One of them reached into the resulting cavity and pulled something out that barely fit through the opening, something as long as a man's arm and as thick as a man's thigh that sparkled in the firelight of the Eternal Flame. It was pointed at one end, and irregular at the other, as if it had been broken at that end.

"It's the broken-off finger-tip of the Stone-Coat Hairless Bear," said Mouse.

"And it is alive," added Turtle Man.

****

The remainder of their first day as Tribe members was spent moving to the Turtle Man Lodge. The only way to accomplish the move was on foot, but the Chief assigned a dozen strong young men to help them move their belongings. To the surprise of the newcomers, Singing Moon herself supervised a contingent of women and girls that also helped with the move, though she generally behaved as surly and unfriendly as ever.

Given all the Tribe help, the moving was soon accomplished. Fortunately the snowfall stopped and for several more days winter weather was expected to hold off. Following that the arctic jet stream was forecast to sink south of them and stay there until spring, accompanied by numbing arctic-cold and paralyzing snow. For now the entire Mohawk Tribe continued their frantic preparation for winter, including its newest members.

In moving the Rumsfeld belongings to the Great Lodge, jants still living in them were also moved. It was only a few hundred stealthy worker jants, but it was enough of a jant presence to maintain a link with Ed, and to hopefully establish secret links with a few selected additional humans at the Lodge.

Next and foremost on the agenda as far as Jack and Doc were concerned was the Bear Claw artifact. The four white Mohawks had seen it only briefly the day of their induction into the Tribe and Jack and Doc were particularly eager to see it again and examine it closely. They were disappointed to learn from Talking Owl that before examination of the Bear Claw would be allowed they must first learn everything known by the Tribe about the object and devise a plan to examine it that was judged to be safe by the Tribe Leaders.

Doc and Jack clarified to Ed and Mary that the four key Tribe Leaders consisted foremost of Turtle Man, Tribe Religious Chief and Turtle Clan Leader; closely followed by Mouse as unofficial Bear Clan Leader and Leader of the Elder Council of Mothers, Talking Bear as official Bear Clan Leader and Chief of the Tribe, and young White Cloud, Wolf Clan Leader and Talking Bear's right-hand man.

The fifth most influential Tribe member was young Talking Owl herself. Daughter to Singing Moon and Talking Bear, she was Turtle Man's right-hand aid and apprentice, and had the old man's confidence. Though gifted with telepathic abilities, intelligence, and beauty, Doc had learned from other Tribe members that Talking Owl presented a number of problems for the Tribe. She was by far the most talented young telepath of the tribe, which under the right circumstances would make her the preferred Tribe member to someday replace Turtle Man, but she was a woman and she was not of the Turtle Clan. Further, she had so far failed in all of her attempts to talk with turtles.

The situation was further complicated by the fact that White Cloud planned to someday marry her. White Cloud was the acknowledged young up-and-coming Tribe leader; there was already talk of him someday becoming Chief after Talking Bear retired. For him to marry the most beautiful and talented woman of the Tribe made political sense.

But there were complications that had so far prevented White Cloud from carrying through with wedding her. If White Cloud married her he would become part of the Bear Clan and ineligible to be Wolf Clan Leader any longer. He wanted Talking Owl but he also liked being the Wolf Clan Leader. He still hoped that some other way could be found for them, perhaps by some sort of bending of traditional Tribe rules that would require unanimous approval by all Tribe Leaders and Elders.

However White Cloud feared that any such solution would surely be blocked by Singing Moon. Telepathic ability had skipped her generation but she exercised influence in the Elder Council of Mothers second only to that of Mouse. Further, she was jealous of her daughter's increasing influence in the Tribe, and she was even jealous of her mother and of her own husband's influence as Chief. She was becoming a serious impediment in the Council; lately it was becoming increasingly difficult to get the Council to agree to anything at all.

Then there was the problem that Talking Owl was not in love with White Cloud in the way that he wanted her to be. She knew of his intensions and truly loved the man like a brother, but could not imagine being his wife. She truly dreaded the day when she might have to marry him for the good of the Tribe.

The complex Talking Owl/White Cloud issue was one of many Tribe concerns that was currently being ignored. For now the crisis of the coming winter, the failing health of Talking Turtle, and the possible awakening of the Stone-Coats overshadowed all other issues.

The day after their induction into the Tribe Mouse told the white foursome what was known about the Bear Claw. "According to legend, over six centuries ago during an unusually cold winter Hairless Bear came to life and began consuming the firewood that was piled high around him," she began.

"Stone-Coats eat wood?" Doc asked.

"They are said to eat practically anything, but they particularly like wood or charcoal." Mouse said. "The heat of fire stops Stone-Coats. The wood should have been set afire to stop Hairless Bear, but a blizzard extinguished all Tribe torches sent from Giants' Rest Village."

"Why all the way from Giant's Rest?" Mary asked.

"That was before the Tribe had longhouses and before any of the Tribe lived close to Hairless Bear."

"Is that why the Turtle Man Lodge is so close to Hairless Bear?" asked Ed. He was as anxious as any of them to study the artifact and prove that this entire Stone-Coat business was superstitious nonsense.

"Yes," continued Mouse. "In recent centuries we have stayed closer to the Stone-Coats to better judge if they are waking and to better respond to them by using fire."

"Does fire kill them?" Doc asked.

"No," said Mouse. "Warming them merely stops them from moving until it is cold again. We don't know what might kill them; we have never been able to do such a thing. Long ago when Hairless Bear came alive there was no fire to warm and stop him. In desperation the Tribe attacked him with spears and axes, but the Stone-Coats are made of stone. Our weapons were useless. Hairless-Bear and others like him killed and consumed our strongest, bravest warriors. He went to our biggest trees, cut them down, and carried them up the Mountain."

"Weird," remarked Doc.

Ridiculous, thought Ed.

"Fortunately at this time there was a mighty warrior among our nearby Mohawk neighbors known by white man today as Hiawatha," continued Mouse. "He is said to have been a follower of Deganawida, known also known as Shennenrahawi, or Great Peace Maker, known by the Onondaga nation. Hiawatha was an Onondaga Chief but was visiting the Mohawk and speaking of the Peace Maker plan to join together all nations into one."

"When news of the Hairless Bear awakening reached the ears of Hiawatha he came at once to our village. The Onondaga are keepers of the flame. Hiawatha brought with him better ways of keeping fire that he learned from the Onondaga. With torches burning he led an attack on Hairless Bear. It is said that with a mighty ax blow he broke off the tip of the monster's finger, and the monster bled water and ice from the wound. Fires were set around him and Hairless Bear stopped moving where he stands today."

"That must have impressed people," Ed noted.

Mouse nodded in agreement. "It was what you whites would call a history-changing event. Hiawatha became a Chief to us known as the Peace Maker. Our Tribe joined the Mohawk and the Mohawk led efforts to form what became known today as the Iroquois Confederacy."

"And the monster's fingertip was kept as a sacred trophy," said Jack.

Mouse shook her head. "It is not kept as a trophy, but as a dangerous prisoner that eats what touches it, especially if it becomes cold. It has doubled in size since being captured. When it becomes colder than ice the Claw gathers whatever it touches to itself, including human flesh."

"According to legend," added Ed.

"According to the facts as we know them, Raccoon," Mouse retorted. "Now you know most of what we know."

"Does it have thoughts that Turtle Man can sense?" Mary asked.

"None that he can detect," Mouse answered.

"Have attempts been made to study the object?" Doc asked. "It seems incredible to me that over all those years it has not been analyzed using basics such as stimulus and response, spectral and chemical analysis, and so forth."

"All such science methods were too alien to our culture and judged to be too dangerous until now," explained Mouse. "Your impulse is born of white-man science, while the Tribe has for countless centuries wanted nothing but to contain the Stone-Coats as evil monsters. When Hairless Bear last woke centuries ago, things changed for our ancient Tribe. We joined our Mohawk neighbors and adopted their ways. Now things are changing again. The Tribe has decided that some white man science might help us. We have young men and women in white man schools now, studying science. In perhaps five or ten years we could field a science team of our own, but for now, Jack and Doc are all that we have."

"What has changed now?" Ed asked. "Why not wait five or ten more years? You've been guarding your Mountain for millennia."

"Turtle Man senses that the Stone-Coats are hungry and waking. Not only Hairless Bear but all the Stone-Coats that sleep in the Mountain."

"How many Stone-Coats are there in the Mountain?" Mary asked.

"That is for Raccoon to verify," said Mouse. "Turtle Man says there are countless thousands of them. The Mountain does not merely hide the Stone-Coats; much of the Mountain IS the Stone-Coats. And it is a big mountain."

****

Every evening for the next week either Mouse or Talking Owl visited Ed briefly to mentor him, but otherwise he was mostly on his own as he honed his telepathic senses. Following his mentors' advice he started out as simple as he could, which required that he hike at least a mile away from all longhouses and the deafening mental chatter of their many inhabitants.

Mary, Jack, or Doc usually accompanied him on his hikes but they had to pretty much let Ed sit quietly on his own so that he could 'listen' and learn. Mary quickly became bored, and the energetic Jack became downright frustrated. Doc usually sat propped against a tree and sensibly dozed off. Ed learned the most when Talking Owl went with him and couched him step by step.

Ed's first breakthrough creature, the friendly great horned owl, also followed him on some days, and they continued to exchange simple owlish thoughts. In the course of improving his owl communications, Ed soon found that he was able to isolate the thoughts of other birds as well, and then the thoughts of nearby squirrels and other small nearby animals. He could also sense some of the thoughts of his human companions. He felt that most of the thoughts that he sensed, even the thoughts of the humans, were simple and direct: more feelings, senses, and suggestions for various basic activities than abstract, symbolic, word-like thoughts. Translation of all of it into things that he could understand would probably take a very long time, he suspected. Possibly a lifetime or longer.

Did this mean that all of these creatures were telepathic and had their own languages? Certainly not, Ed quickly concluded. But they did through their normal brain activity inadvertently weakly broadcast many repeating patterns that were specific to their species and even peculiar to each individual. Communication with each living creature was a set of puzzles to be solved, and Ed was rapidly becoming better at solving them.

That included wolf and bear clan animals, which frightened him even though he had been told by Talking Owl to expect them and that they would not harm him. Clan leaders Running Bear and White Cloud sent them. Several members of each species individually approached and then quietly watched him for hours at a time and poked at him with their noses to get a good whiff of his scent - which usually included Old Spice deodorant. When Ed probed bear and wolf thoughts he was immediately aware of keen intelligence that although not at a human level was far superior to other wild animals.

Wolf and bear thought patterns had odd twists to them, and were most strongly tied to immediate needs such as food. "NOT PREY" and "NOT RIVAL" were what they mostly thought repeatedly as they watched him, as though it was a notion that they were fixing more firmly in their minds. "FRIEND," he mostly thought fearfully back at them, though they seemed to be dismissive of that notion.

"They become familiar with you and your thoughts," Talking Owl explained, "and you with theirs. They will tolerate and to some degree respect you now as a recognized Tribe member and acquaintance, but do not expect more without having to work for it. In that they are not so unlike humans. It takes time and effort to establish true friendships." Apparently romping and foraging for food with them for a time in the woods would be required for actual friendship, and Ed couldn't imagine that ever happening. For now Ed was perfectly satisfied not to be attacked and eaten by them.

One day Ed found himself to be alone with grumpy Singing Moon in the Lodge. "As a white man born and raised, what do think of the notion of Stone-Coat giants, Ed Rumsfeld," she asked him.

"To me it sounds like some sort of crazy myth," Ed replied. "But in pluralistic America you are free to believe whatever you want to believe."

"I don't believe in Stone-Coats either," she admitted, surprising Ed. "Many in the Tribe no longer believe. The Stone-Coat myth keeps the Tribe from joining the modern world."

"Your daughter Talking Owl believes in Stone-Coats."

"She believes the web of nonsense that Turtle Man and Mouse maintain around themselves in this Great Lodge of deceit. Years ago they took my only child from me and brought her here to be further indoctrinated. But they have failed, for she remains honest. She does not claim to hear the Stone-Coats dream because they have died, if they ever lived at all. That is her truth that they refuse. Now they have brought you here to boost their waning power over the Tribe. You are supposed to lie and say that you hear Stone-Coats. Is that not what they pay you to do?"

"I'm supposed to try to hear them, but I wouldn't lie about it."

"If that is true I support your efforts, Ed Rumsfeld."

"That's good to hear, Singing Moon."

"But if you lie about it, that will be your last act on this Earth, white man!" Singing Moon said tersely, before she abruptly turned from him and walked away.

"Swell," Ed figured.

So far Ed hadn't distinguished any turtle thoughts, much less Stone-Coat thoughts. Of course Singing Moon was right: that Stone-Coat business was nonsense, it had to be. Maybe turtle talk was also nonsense. After all, people the world over swore that they talked with ghosts and gods and so-forth, without any objective evidence whatsoever. People could talk themselves into all sorts of crazy notions; they seemed to be wired such than many of them strongly needed to do so. Ed doubted that Stone-Coats were any more real than the Easter Bunny. However he had to admit that as he identified the thoughts of more and more forest creatures, the boundaries regarding what he believed to be possible were expanding significantly.

In every direction he hiked Ed encountered jant thoughts. They had established at least a dozen queen-inhabited Reservation nests already, and like the Mohawk, were busily preparing for winter. And like Ed, they were expanding their telepathic abilities.

What Ed learned, through their connection with him the Jants also learned. However they were reluctant to bite Mohawks in order to better read their thoughts; some of the Mohawk were naturally telepathic and might prove dangerous. They had encountered a few scattered telepathic humans elsewhere, but here there were more than a hundred concentrated in a single small community. Such a phenomenon deserved careful, cautious study. So did the Stone-Coats, if they existed. The jants were in no hurry. The jant collective mind was essentially immortal, and would exist as long as any of its colonies existed. However they decided that should bite a selected few members of the Tribe before winter sat in. As they studied Jerry, Ed, and countless thousands of other selected humans, they would now study the Tribe and its secrets.

Every few days Ed met very briefly with Turtle Man, but the visits were becoming fewer and briefer. The old man was clearly fading towards death. Talking Owl made it clear to Ed that the visits were mostly to keep up the old man's spirits, and not to impart wisdom that would help him talk with turtles or Stone-Coats. He wished that he could give the old man better news. Like Talking Owl he could now telepathically connect with just about everything in the animal kingdom except turtles, but it was not enough.

Doc and Jack focused on the plan to study the Bear Claw, aided by White Cloud, who turned out to be a mechanical engineer. "White Cloud, as thrilled as we are to study the artifact you do surely realize that this is an absurdly weak science team," began Doc.

"Very weak, and with very limited equipment availability," agreed White Cloud, "which is why I'm here to help." He stepped up to the marker-board that he had brought from his administrative office in town. "First let's list our requirements," he suggested, in engineer-like fashion. "We need to hold what you white folks call a brainstorming session, first on requirements and then on design."

"Despite our precautions what we do may be dangerous, so we should do the examination remote from any lodges," said Doc as White Cloud wrote 'isolation' on the marker board.

"That will mean using some sort of stand-alone structure," Jack added. "A laboratory building."

Under the 'design' column White cloud wrote 'lab' and underlined it. "We don't have the time or resources to construct a truly stand-alone self-sufficient lab complex," said White Cloud. "Frankly some in the Tribe, led by Singing Moon, oppose the use of any resources at all. Anyway, one practical trade-off is that the lab can't be very far from the resources of an existing lodge."

"As a safely factor it should be possible to set the lab afire, and continue the resulting fire indefinitely without being overcome be the cold of winter," said Jack. "That suggests proximity to existing supplies of firewood and manpower. So you are right, White Cloud; the lab can't be overly remote from lodges."

White Cloud annotated the lab entry with a 'close to lodge' note.

"The object will have to be contained in some sort of container at all times," continued Doc. "We need to rigorously control what it comes into contact with."

"And contain it if it becomes animated," added Jack.

"It will eat what it is in contact with," said White Cloud, "especially if it is cold. The container structure must be renewable somehow. We have changed its location in the fireplace every few years, and replaced the stone blocks it rests upon. Otherwise over the centuries they crumble away." He wrote a great deal about the container under his design collumn.

"And its temperature will need to be monitored and controlled and recorded at all times," White Cloud added. "There need to be observation devices within the containment box itself."

"We need to write up a protocol on how to handle it and what we should do under various circumstances," noted Doc. "We don't want to be making up everything as we go along."

"Besides, it will need to be monitored night and day," said Jack. "Several other Tribe members will be needed. Everyone involved will need to be familiar with the protocols."

"We'll need measurement instruments, cameras and notebooks," said Doc. "We need hand tools and probes, needles and drills, chisels and hammers, water misters and microphones, fire extinguishers and propane torches."

"Most of that already exists somewhere on the Reservation, but we will need to purchase a few things," said White Cloud "And we need to do it immediately, before the snows cut us off from the outside world. We'll also need electricity 24-7. There is no power line from the outside world, but there are a few rechargeable nine-volt battery assemblies that we use in conjunction with solar panels, and more nine-volt direct current gizmo's than you'd imagine exist that were designed for truckers and RV folks. There are even a few gasoline powered backup power generators for full temporary A/C power, and a Tribe gasoline tank to draw fuel from."

Planning went on for hours. White Cloud's efforts were indispensable. He took notes, knew what Tribe resources were available, did most of the design of the lab, and identified a suitable location for the lab not far from Turtle Man's lodge. Jack suspected that this was not the first time that White Cloud had thought about building a lab to examine the artifact.

The next day the plans were presented to Tribe leadership and approved, though there was strident opposition from Singing Moon. Construction began immediately.

A week after the induction of the four white outsiders into the Tribe, the lab was completed. On that day the snow began to fall again and this time it didn't stop for three days. Two feet of powdery snow was deposited everywhere on the Reservation, with six-foot deep drifts in some places. Winter had arrived.

****

On a nearby ridge overlooking Turtle Man's Lodge and the lab construction, Running Bear watched and waited, propped against a tree trunk in a white outfit that rendered him virtually invisible to those he watched. The construction effort intrigued him. These Mohawks here were definitely up to something, but what? He took more photos and studied the construction efforts using high-powered binoculars.

At the peak of construction as many as twenty Tribe members were diverted from other necessary duties to construct the new building. Compared to the huge dome and lodges nearby it was a very small building, but there were many solar panels arrayed nearby to provide power to it. Indeed half the solar panels of the Reservation had been relocated to power the new building. What could be so important and urgent?

He carefully studied everyone who came and went, looking for Green. He identified only four white-skinned people, but none of them were Green. They were undoubtedly the Rumsfelds, the uncle, and the Reservation doctor. He continued taking photos and videos, and watching using his binoculars, even after the snows came. Now that the heavy snows had finally stopped, and he sensed that something important would soon happen at the new building.

"I brought you hot soup, Running Bear," said a voice behind him abruptly.

He span around so fast that he dropped his binoculars in the deep snow. Not ten feet from him stood Mouse: the damned mind-reading Mohawk witch-woman! She held a big thermos in her colorfully gloved little hands.

"You have been thinking with so much disgust about the cold meals you eat that I grew concerned about your health," she said.

"You read my thoughts, Old Mother?"

"Since you arrived here ten days ago, Running Bear. We always keep track of trespassers. Come back to your tent with me and I'll feed you hot soup. It is venison and barley; your favorite."

"You know too much about me!"

"Only as much as we need to know in order to decide what to do with you."

"And so you decided to feed me soup? Is it poison?"

"I am hopefully not so poor a cook as that," she said, as she bent low and slipped into his tiny tent.

After glancing about futilely for other Tribe members Running Bear followed her into his tent, and found her sitting at the far end of it, already pouring soup out of the thermos into two cups that she must have concealed in her robes. The aroma was incredible. He hadn't had good hot food for ten days, not since he began his long clandestine incursion into the Reservation. He had used trails that he learned about from the white Forty-Sevens Club members that had tried without success to reach and climb Giants' Rest Mountain. They were careless and were always stopped by the Mohawk Guards before they reached the Mountain.

Running Bear was not careless. When possible he paralleled the trails instead of traveling directly on them. He made no fires or loud noises. He traveled mostly through the night using infrared goggles. He drove most of the way using a four-wheel all-terrain vehicle with a super quiet electric engine. He had indeed been very careful, but he had been discovered anyway. He might as well eat her soup, he decided. She probably had a dozen warriors with rifles hidden nearby to enforce whatever she wanted him to do.

"No," she said, "there is only me here with you, Running Bear: a harmless little old woman with her thermos of tasty soup. Have some."

Harmless? Running Bear doubted that!

She handed a steaming cup of soup to him. The cup warmed his hand and the smell of it brought back fond old memories. His Mother and his Aunt used to make soup like this for him. His mother had made him this soup the last time he saw her alive. He watched as Mouse began to sip soup from her cup. Elders eat first, he thought, remembering his manners.

"And then warriors," she said, finishing his thought. "You may now eat, young warrior."

He sipped the soup. It was incredible!

"Yes, it is true. I came to bribe you with my incredible soup, Bear Cub."

He shook his head and smiled. "Bear Cub! I haven't been called that for many years!"

"Yes, I know. And I know the promise that you made to your Mother years ago just before she died. It is a promise that you have kept for the last decade, to value the welfare of your Tribe and all Native Americans above all else."

Running Bear could only nod his head. Like his father before him he had been wasting his life in his tribe's casino, drinking and womanizing, but on his last visit to his mother she had extracted the promise from him, a promise that at the time he had no intension of keeping. Indeed he was partying at the casino the night that she died alone. After that his previously ignored pledge to her somehow become the driving force in his life. He had never told anyone of it, but there were evidently no secrets to be kept from this woman. "What do you want of me, Old Mother?"

"What did you think of the ceremony that we held the day that you arrived? The one that diverted you to camp away from the village and to instead spy upon this more isolated Lodge?"

"You made the whites in your midst members of your Tribe, did you not? I was most impressed with the bears and wolves."

"I was most impressed to detect you on our Reservation less than twenty-four hours after we removed you from it," said Mouse. "You must have traveled all night to accomplish such an amazing thing."

"I like to challenge myself, Old Mother, but I was indeed just in time to witness the end of your ceremony that inducted the four whites."

"And why do you think we did that?" she asked.

"You must need them for some purpose that I have not yet determined. You have now constructed a strange and modern looking building for them."

"Yes, and we obtained from them their pledge of secrecy. That is what we want from you, Running Bear. We want you to honor your pledge to your Mother by promising us not to divulge our secrets to anyone, especially the NSA. In return you will personally learn our secrets. You are an intensely curious man. That is what you want, isn't it?"

"Perhaps. I have not told the NSA about the jants here, as that might cause them to invade your Reservation. Are there other secrets that you keep?"

"You know that there are. Unless we discover otherwise, the jants are a white man problem. There are other secrets and responsibilities that are strictly Tribe business. Those secrets must remain with us. You must agree to this."

Running Bear smiled. "Isn't that a bit perverse, to let me in on your secrets but forbid me from telling anyone about them? That would not be an easy thing."

Mouse smiled back at him. "Who said that life is easy? Perhaps you have lived too much among the white man, Running Bear. "

"I do not mind so much living here, Old Mother, beneath the stars and among the trees and animals. It reminds me of my youth."

Mouse smiled. "Accept our belated hospitality, Mohican. Come out of the cold to instead stay with us in our Great Lodge. We will talk further and I will make you more soup. Besides, I'm afraid that any alternative is much less attractive."

****

The next day was colder yet but clear, and at mid-morning the Bear Claw was moved to the new laboratory building from the Dome of Elders of the Great Lodge. From the lab Ed, Mary, Mouse, Talking Bear and White Cloud watched as without ceremony it was carried towards the lab by six straining braves, trailed by anxious looking Jack and Doc. The artifact was contained in a sturdy steel box twice the size of a very large suitcase. Under it was a tray of hot coals, and around that was a canvas tent-like enclosure that kept out some of the cold. The whole apparatus weighed nearly three hundred pounds, and the artifact itself added roughly two-hundred pounds more.

A path had been shoveled through the snow down to the ground such that the men did not risk slipping but their burden was heavy. When the six straining men were half-way to the lab from the lodge Ed and Mary were astonished to recognize that one of them was the New York State Border Guard John Running Bear!

"Yes, it is indeed the man you knew as the Border Guard John Running Bear," Mouse confirmed.

"Is he a Mohawk disguised as a Mohican disguised as a Border Guard?" Mary asked.

"No, he is a Mohican disguised as an NSA agent now acting as a Mohawk," Mouse clarified, though the statement only further confused Ed and Mary. "Running Bear leads a complicated life, but he has recently wisely decided to join our cause for a time."

"And he works for the NSA?" Ed asked. "Those are the guys that are looking for the jants and Jerry Green!"

"Yes," said Mouse. "His NSA assignment is to follow you in the hope that you will lead them to Jerry Green."

"But we have no idea where Jerry Green is!" Ed said.

"True," said Mouse. "Right now John's true objective is to keep the NSA off the Reservation by being here himself. He has agreed to keep the jants here a secret from the NSA, and to keep our other secrets from the NSA also."

"And you trust him?" Ed asked.

"I have confidence in my ability to read his thoughts," Mouse explained. "That makes me an excellent judge of his character. Besides, if we cannot contain the Stone-Coats we will use him to inform the US Government with immediate credibility."

"We will?" asked Mary.

"Only as a very last resort." Mouse admitted.

The box containing the Bear Claw was finally safely placed in the lab. There it sat atop a heavy steel table with a hole cut in the middle that was positioned in the center of the elongated lab building. Below it a kerosene heater burned, providing direct heat to the bottom of the containment box. White Cloud quickly attached leads to connectors on the box, and activating and accessing the lights, video cameras, microphone, and temperature gages inside the box.

Meanwhile Running Bear exchanged greetings with Ed and Mary, and was introduced to Jack and Doc by Mouse. "I have read all your papers concerning Native American ancestry," Running Bear told Jack, surprising everyone except Mouse. "You have contributed much to our understanding of our ancestors."

"And I have heard of you also," Jack responded. "As a Native American rights advocate in a number of court cases, you have helped deny my access to a number of important archeological sites."

Running Bear smiled. "Now that you are officially a Native American you will be able to access some of those sites."

That caused Jack's jaw to drop. "By the gods, I hadn't thought of that! Maybe there are more advantages to being a Native American than I realized!"

"Yes!" said Running Bear, with a small smile. "We Native Americans are truly living the dream!"

"Holly shits!" exclaimed Doc, when the computer monitor abruptly came to life. Ed, Jack, Mary, White Cloud, Mouse, and Talking Owl collectively gasped and stared, while Running Bear stoically watched everything with great interest. Filling the screen was the sharp bedazzling image of the Bear Claw!

Ed was astonished. He had seen incredible mineral exhibits in natural history museums where dazzling gemstones were displayed, and what he was looking at now reminded him of those, except this was more spectacular than anything he had ever seen before. How the hell had it been constructed? It was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen! It was shaped like a clawed finger-tip perhaps two and a half feet long and thick as his thigh. The claw itself was over a third of its length, and seemed to be a single flawless, translucent gemstone, pointed at its tip, with a sharp, serrated, inner edge designed to cut into whatever it grasped.

The 'finger' tip it was attached to was covered with plum and fist-sized, multiple faceted scales that also glinted clear/white in the light. This 'skin' appeared to be a coat of gigantic many faceted diamonds! Beneath those outside scales there was a vague impression of semi-translucent elongated crystals of various shades of blue, green, and red. There were dark streaks of black also, threaded around and throughout the crystals.

"How is its surface so sparkling clean?" Mary asked. "Did you guys hose it off after you pulled it out of that ashy fireplace?"

Talking Owl shook her head. "Dirt doesn't accumulate on it. It absorbs whatever collects on its surface."

"The scales and the claw look like diamonds!" Jack exclaimed.

"Possibly they are diamonds," White Cloud agreed. "That is something we hope to determine. It can't be ice, not at two-hundred degrees Fahrenheit."

"That's the temperature of our thermometer inside the box," noted Doc. "We still have to confirm that it is also the temperature of the Claw. But I suspect you are right; it is some sort of mineral and probably not ice. Quartz perhaps."

"Likely," agreed Jack. "Living in Giants' Rest Mountain would provide access to plenty of quartz. Quartz is the defining abundant mineral in granite, and it is damn near as hard and durable as diamond, being silicon based. Only carbon, silicon's close cousin in the periodic table, forms stronger multiple covalent bonds and harder materials, with diamond the hardest material of all."

"Let's rotate the object to get some other angles and lighting," suggested Doc.

"Angles and lighting!" Jack exclaimed. "Damn! We've simply got to rig up some sort of laser and measure optical refractive index! And that Geiger counter better get here soon too!"

White Cloud turned a crank that caused the center portion of the box's bottom to slowly revolve, along with Claw that sat atop it. Light from the small light-bulb in each box corner reflected and refracted off and through the artifact, causing a dazzling multi-colored light display.

"Wow!" exclaimed Doc. "This reminds me of a disco light show back in the 80's."

"Its surface where it broke off from the rest of the Stone-Coat doesn't look any different than the rest of it." noted Mary. "It has the same big shiny scales covering there as it has everywhere else."

"Yes," agreed Doc. "It healed itself. It's as though a layer of skin has grown over the broken surface. I can see why the Tribe concluded that it's still alive."

"Alive?" Ed remarked. "So far we've seen nothing but rock and no signs of life at all! Give me a gem collection and some Elmer's Glue-All and I could produce something very similar."

"True, it will take more than what you see here to convince some of you that Stone-Coats and this Bear Claw live," said Mouse aloud, before switching to telepathy. "LEAVE YOUR WIFE AND FRIENDS HERE WITH THEIR CAMERAS AND LIGHTS, RACCOON. THEY CAN INFORM YOU LATER ABOUT WHAT THEY FIND. IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO TALK TO TURTLES."

"I'VE BEEN TRYING TO DO THAT FOR MORE THAN A WEEK, OLD MOTHER. WHAT WILL HELP ME THIS TIME?"

"RUNNING BEAR AND TALKING OWL WILL TAKE YOU TO A PLACE NEAR WHERE SEVERAL TURTLES DREAM AND MAINTAIN THEIR LONELY VIGIL, RACCOON. THEIR THOUGHTS WILL BE LOUDEST THERE."

"WHERE IS THAT?" Ed had to ask. "NEAR THE CREEK MAYBE? I WAS THERE FOUR DAYS AGO."

"THE SITE IS NEAR HAIRLESS BEAR," Mouse replied. "TALKING TURTLE GROWS WEAK. WE HAVE DECIDED TO STATION HUMAN WATCHERS TO OBSERVE HAIRLESS BEAR. YOU AND RUNNING BEAR WILL TAKE THE FIRST WATCH."

"SWELL."

****

### CHAPTER X

### The Red Eye

Ed, John, and Talking Owl found the hiking and camping gear they needed waiting for them at the entrance of Turtle Man's Great Lodge and together they set off for Hairless Bear. Fortunately the walk was short, as the Lodge was long ago positioned to be near Hairless Bear, and a path through the snow had already been cleared by other tribesmen. They each carried large backpacks, with Running Bear effortlessly carrying by far the largest pack that included the tent.

"Is it far, Princess?" Running Bear asked Talking Owl, as they set off.

"I prefer Talking Owl," she told the Mohican, but she smiled. "Why would you call me Princess?"

"I am sorry, Talking Owl; I mean you no disrespect. As I spied on all of you I formed provisional names for those of you for whom I did not yet have a proper name."

"But why choose to call me Princess?" she asked again.

"Your beauty and bearing made the name choice an obvious one," Running Bear explained. "I have spoken it in my head a thousand times and grown quite used to it."

She laughed before replying. "Continue to use it if you wish, Running Bear. I do not want to confuse you."

"Only if you will call me John," Running Bear answered.

"Agreed. To answer your question, John, we are almost half-way to the Hairless Bear already; hardly a challenge for a man that can travel into our remote reservation while carrying all of this heavy camping and surveillance gear."

Ed said nothing, largely because he was short of breath from hiking while carrying what he considered to be an enormous weight. He was relieved when they arrived at the site of Hairless Bear and he could take off the heavy backpack. A large area for their tent and campfire had been already been cleared of snow by the Tribe and hadn't yet drifted back. Even the Hairless Bear itself and the woodpile around it appeared to have been cleared of snow!

"Ieeee!" the usually taciturn Running Bear exclaimed, when he looked up at the rocky stone figure that towered above them. "It is much bigger than I expected from legend!"

"Most Stone-Coats in the Mountain are said to be smaller, though some are also said to be even larger," said Talking Owl.

"This one is large and realistic enough! Well over ten meters tall, I'd say! Maybe fifteen or more!"

"You favor the Metric system, John?" Talking Owl asked.

"Chiefly because it is not English, but also because it is far more sensible, Princess," Running Bear said.

John and the Princess were suddenly staring into each other's eyes. Ed couldn't be sure, but he thought that he saw Talking Owl blush. Maybe it was due to the cold.

"I'll set up the tent," Running Bear announced, breaking eye contact with Talking Owl as he shed his own backpack and started unloading tent-parts from it. "It's an NSA tent and provides good protection against cold. Plenty of room in it for two."

Talking Owl turned her attention to Ed, though he noticed that she frequently glanced towards Running Bear. "This is your big test, Ed Rumsfeld. Your best hope is to lie quietly in the tent and relax with eyes closed and ears covered, leaving your mind open to quiet, slow turtle thoughts. Their thoughts form very slowly in your head, I am told."

"Thoughts form pretty darn slowly in my head normally," Ed noted. "What you describe sounds like an easy job."

"Not at all. But in a short time you have learned to do all that I can do with other animals, so your potential must be truly great."

"I'll probably simply doze off," Ed noted.

"That could be a good thing, Raccoon. Turtle Man often receives his best communications when he sleeps or is on the edge of sleep."

"Great! I'm a damn good sleeper," Ed noted. "One of the very best."

"John won't let you overdo your sleep," Talking Owl said. "He has been briefed by Mouse on how to help you." She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag full of small roundish objects. "Use these earplugs. They will stifle sounds that might otherwise distract you. Besides, John might snore." She shot John a smile.

"Or if Ed snores I might be the one to need the earplugs," noted John.

"Good luck to both of you," she said with another little smile, before turning away from them and walking back towards the Lodge.

Both men attentively watched her go, and missed her company already.

"Wow!" said Running Bear, when she was finally out of sight.

"Ditto," agreed Ed. "Princess is a damn good name for her! Of course I'm married to a cutie already and I'm damn near old enough to be Talking Owl's father. But I'm married, not dead."

"Is she married?" Running Bear asked.

As Running Bear finished setting up the tent Ed told him about the White Cloud/Talking Owl dilemma.

"So far I much like White Cloud," said Running Bear, "but he's a fool that doesn't deserve her if he values Clan leadership above her."

"She seems to like you," Ed noted.

Running Bear snorted. "She's possibly mildly amused by me. I'm a Mohican NSA agent and far below her status. No Ed Rumsfeld, I am an outsider here and a realist. She is far beyond my reach. But I'm only a man. She cannot be beyond my thoughts."

They spent the next hour setting up the camp. They constructed a circle of rocks to contain a campfire and put equipment in the tent. Most food was hung high in a tree by Running Bear. "That should keep our food away from wolves, bears, and your little cousins the raccoons," he explained.

The two men entered the tent and sat down across from each other. The ground under the tent was frozen solid and it was colder than a refrigerator inside, but at least there was no wind or drifting snow to contend with. "What is this stuff?" Ed asked about the small parcels of food that John had left in the tent.

"MREs, Ed. Genuine government issue Meals Ready to Eat: dehydrated goodies. When it gets dark later we'll get our fire going and cook it up in a pot of hot water. Then we'll eat like kings. Well, like kings on a shitty restricted diet maybe."

"Swell! We wouldn't want to over-eat."

"Actually we'll both be eating and drinking more than usual, Ed. Out here in the cold we'll burn a lot of calories, breathe a lot of dry air, and make a lot of yellow snow. In the meantime let's talk about our mission. As Mouse explained it to me, my mission is to support you, and your mission is to learn how to telepathically talk with turtles and then mind-meld with this stone statue of a bear."

"Very true," agreed Ed.

"It all sounds a bit crazy to me. Could it be simply some kind of ruse to get me away from the artifact study?"

"I don't think so," said Ed. "My, but you are the suspicious sort, aren't you?"

"I'm NSA. And I'm also the sort of man that likes to be sure about what's going on around him, Ed."

"Me too, John."

"The bear-shaped rock formation creeps me out," admitted John.

"Me too," Ed admitted. "My spidey sense is tingling."

"Maybe it's supposed to creep us out," said John. "This whole Stone-Coat thing has had Native Americans creeped-out for centuries. Maybe the Tribe still doesn't trust me and putting me out here with you keeps me out of their hair."

Ed was quiet for a few moments before he replied. "Mouse told me that they sent you out here largely because you know how to set up your nice warm NSA tent and how to camp-out and keep me comfortable in the cold."

"When did she tell you that?"

"Just now, telepathically. I'm afraid that she's been eavesdropping on our thoughts. Human telepathy is her specialty, even at a distance. Don't expect to keep many secrets from her."

"That creeps me out almost as much as does Hairless Bear," said John, "but that sort of thing has also been long rumored of this Tribe."

"I'm getting to know and trust these people, and I'm getting rather used to telepathy," admitted Ed. "It's a gift. A creepy gift, but a sort of nifty one too. And I've learned how to do it a lot better over the last couple of weeks. I've shared thoughts with a lot of critters, but I'm still not at all sold on talking to turtles or on the existence of sleeping Stone-Coat Ice Giants. My friends and I plan to prove to the Tribe that Stone-Coats don't exist so that they can move out of these cold mountains to someplace warmer and nicer."

John laughed. "White men are always thinking of nice warm swamps and deserts to move their beloved red brothers to. I wonder what Mouse thinks of your plan? But I want to get to the bottom of this Stone-Coat business also."

"Why?"

"Like your Uncle Jack I have a great curiosity about Native American myths. I'd like to know if there is something real behind this one. I sort of hope that there is, actually."

"You do?"

"Native Americans have a lot of myths and there is a lot of wisdom tied up in them. I wouldn't mind finding out that there is some truth behind some of them. Call it a hobby."

"You're a complex guy, John."

"You are also. I'm supposed to let you do telepathy with turtles as you rest quietly here in the tent. Nothing simple about that."

"I suppose," Ed admitted.

"While it's still light outside I'll let you get to it while I have a look around the camp area some more. I like to know where it is that I'm sleeping."

"Sounds like a plan," Ed remarked, as John Running Bear slipped out of the tent and zipped it closed behind him.

Ed opened his sleeping bag and lay down upon it. Being on the padded bag was softer and warmer than being directly on the tent floor but the ground beneath was still relatively hard and irregular. However there was something primal and reassuring about lying on the solid ground; Ed felt like he was somehow part of the Earth and not merely laying upon it.

He relaxed, closed his eyes, and began to telepathically take inventory of the creatures in the area. Aside from John and a few rodents and birds, nothing was readily apparent nearby, though a bit further off he sensed wolves. This was a quiet, deserted patch of woods, all right! He wasn't looking forward to spending the night without Mary; this would be the first time they would be sleeping apart since they were married. He was glad that she was safe at the Lodge though, instead of being camped alongside Hairless Bear. He was also very glad for the company of the stoic Mohican. He couldn't imagine spending the night here alone, even though he still didn't believe in Stone-Coats. However, though he couldn't see it he was acutely aware that Hairless Bear towered only a couple of giant steps away.

John Running Bear circled the camp area several times, creating pathways through the snow and becoming familiar with every square foot and every rock, tree, and bush. It would be a dark, moonless night, but he would be able to move about quietly even without a flashlight, if he had to. He looked for evidence of other humans besides himself and Ed, but found none. Further away from the camp and the pathway to it he found only his own footprints and those of a few animals in the two-foot-deep snow. This included numerous wolf and bear tracks, arranged in a rough circle some distance from Hairless Bear. The Tribe clan animals seemed to be watching Hairless Bear from what they considered to be a safe distance. He in fact sensed several wolves nearby.

Running Bear at last turned his attentions to Hairless Bear. He climbed the great mound of fire-wood that surrounded it to get a closer look, snapping photos with his small ruggedized digital camera as he went. Half way up he noticed rock that almost poked through the wood-pile. He cleared away some of the wood and was astonished to discover a huge stone hand with three fingers each as long and nearly as thick as his own body! They matched perfectly the Bear Claw being studied back at the lab, including scales that sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. After taking a couple of dozen photos he covered the clawed hand back up with firewood. When he did so he noticed that some of the wood looked like it was partly eaten away. It wasn't singed; it seemed to have simply melted away!

He continued climbing towards the head. He expected to find a vaguely shaped rock, but the closer he got to it the more it looked like a perfectly shaped head. It was much bigger than it looked to be from ground level; instead of being as large as an elephant's head, it was closer in size to an entire elephant. He didn't see ears or nostrils, but otherwise it looked much like the head of a huge creature of some sort; a bear perhaps, or a muskrat or beaver. The apparent eye on the side of the head he faced was a round black area saucer in size, while the 'skin' of the head was covered with the same big gem-like scales as the fingers.

John had expected to find vaguely shaped granite, not a perfectly formed head and hand with distinct scales! What the hell?

He cleared away firewood covering a massive shoulder and this time paid more attention to the wood as he removed it. Pieces in direct contact with Hairless Bear were clearly being eaten away. The wood didn't look singed; it simply seemed to have disappeared where it had been touching the surface of the Stone-Coat. Curious, John pressed his leather gloved hand against Hairless Bear for a few seconds and then examined the glove closely. "Damn!" we muttered when he realized that half of the thickness of the glove was simply gone! If he had kept his hand pressed against Hairless Bear a few seconds longer, he had no doubt that it would have also eaten away the surface of his hand! He put the partly eaten-away glove and a wood sample into a pocket and snapped more photos of the head before noticing that something was different about the eye.

The eye wasn't black anymore, but was glowing bright red, and it seemed to be staring directly at him! Dred and fear that he hadn't felt since he was a small child rushed through him and after reflexively snapping one more photo he half ran, half tumbled down the wood pile! He ended up lying on his back on the ground near the campfire and staring up at Hairless Bear, half expecting it to come fully alive and reach for him with its huge clawed hands! Hairless Bear didn't move, and as he watched the eye faded from glowing red back to dull black.

Ed heard the commotion and emerged from the tent to find the usually stoic Mohican lying on the ground and staring wide-eyed up at Hairless Bear. Ed could easily sense the fear in John's chaotic thoughts, even though the Mohican wasn't strongly telepathic. "What happened? Are you alright?"

John took a deep breath, sat up, and wiped his face off with his coat sleeve before responding. "I'll be alright. Nothing's broken physically, I think. It's getting dark soon; let's start our fire and then I'll tell you what I think just happened."

It took a quiet twenty minutes, a warm fire, and a shot of brandy before John would describe to Ed what had happened. He kept glancing up at Hairless Bear, Ed noticed, as he told his story.

"You aren't just making all that up to scare the hell out of me are you?" Ed responded.

"Not likely, but you can check it out for yourself. He handed his camera to Ed. Why don't you study my photos in the comfort of the tent while I fix our MRE stew?"

Fifteen minutes later Ed emerged from the tent with a haunted look and John Running Bear handed him the brandy flask and a cup of hot chunky stew. They each sat down in in front of the campfire on their little folding camping chairs and ate their stew and passed the brandy flask back and forth until it was all gone while they stared up at Hairless Bear.

"Holy crap, Running Bear!" Ed said at last. "What the hell!"

"I take it that my photos match up with my story."

"Glowing red eye and everything! Just as significant, Hairless Bear used to be only a vaguely shaped figure in stone, without a perfect head and arm and so forth with gemstone scales! Now after a few cold days it's a slimmed-down statue with pebbly looking scales that look like they might be made of ice or diamonds! Just like the Bear Claw!"

"Things will get even more dramatic if it starts moving," said Running Bear. "At that point this bear plans to run from that one."

"Let's not jump the gun, John. You have to admit that nothing that we've seen so far couldn't have been done using human technology. Think about it. The Tribe pulled a switch on us somehow and brought in an animated statue and put it on top of the Hairless Bear rock. The mechanical eye is driven by some sort of motion detector. I've got a little glow in the dark garden gnome back in storage at the Lodge that gets charged up by sunlight and says "keep off the grass" when it detects motion. The Bear Claw and what you saw could have been manufactured by the Tribe as an elaborate hoax set up to creep us both out.

"It did that. I'm very glad that Talking Owl packed us some brandy. And she's beautiful and smart too, all the way through, and that's not just the brandy and hormones talking, that's keen Native American senses and wisdom."

Ed was glad to see that his gnome argument, the brandy, and thoughts of Talking Owl had calmed and cheered John considerably. Ed refused more brandy for himself. "Drinking is a young man's game, John, and it mostly just makes me dizzy and tired as hell. It's early but I'm going to try to get some sleep. Too bad walkie-talkie radios don't work this near the Mountain. We'll have to wait until tomorrow to tell the others what happened."

"YOU ALREADY TOLD ME," said Mouse in his head. "I'LL PASS IT ON TO THE OTHERS TONIGHT. DREAM WITH THE TURTLES, RACCOON."

"RODGER THAT," Ed responded, as he helped John add some last wood to the fire and walked a bit away from camp to make some yellow snow before bedding down in the tent in his freezing cold sleeping bag. He shivered violently for at least ten minutes before the bag was heated by his body enough for him to be reasonably comfortable. He was putting earplugs into his ears when Running Bear entered the tent. "Want some earplugs, John?"

"No thanks; if that thing out there starts moving I want to hear it coming. I placed an empty MRE can on the woodpile that will cause a ruckus if the monster bear makes a move. You just relax and ask those turtles what the hell is going on."

Still feeling the effects of the brandy, Ed felt very relaxed. Even with the earplugs in it wasn't totally quiet though, even with no sound it was never quiet for him anymore. There was a constant murmuring of thoughts from everywhere, animal and human. He was getting better at tuning them out though, and he did so now, humans, mice, birds, and so forth: everything that he had come to recognize through his training.

Something still remained though; slow and quiet thoughts on the edge of his perception. In his alcohol slowed mind he began to think of the Mohawk word for turtle: "A'NO:WARA, A' - NO: - WA - RA, A' --- NO: ---WA ---RA. He gradually slowed his thoughts to the pace of the throbbing background, and as he repeated the word, he pictured the wood-turtle photo that Doc had discovered in the library.

After thinking the word slowly over a dozen limes he paused and started to doze off, but all the while he 'listened' to the slow background murmurings. Gradually a word began to form in his mind, vague and uncertain at first, but over a period of several minutes it became "STONE-COATS," followed in a few minutes by the words "HUNGRY" and "WAKE" and then finally a frightful visual image of Hairless Bear. The creature's eyes glowed red!

The vision caused Ed to fully wake and find himself in a totally dark tent. He sat up, located his flashlight and turned it on to discover Running Bear already sitting up with his sleeping bag wrapped around his broad shoulders and staring back at him.

"What finely woke you?" John asked. "You were murmuring in your sleep. I thought that you were having a nightmare."

"Or a vision," Ed told him. "Maybe it was all only a dream." He told John what he 'heard' and saw.

"The Mohawk take their dreams very seriously, but I do not believe this was only a dream, I think it was turtles. Tell me more about what the Hairless Bear of your vision looked like."

"It looked as much like a mole, prairie dog, or groundhog as a bear, though I guess that because it was whitish it looked as much like a polar bear as anything. But it had big long fingers and toes nothing like a bear. They were more like clawed hands than bear paws, but hands with two fingers plus a thumb, as though they were made to grab things. Big things, I bet."

"You could have noticed all that from my photos of the hand and then dreamed about it," said Running Bear. "But it could also be a message from the turtles. Do you want more brandy?"

"Not if it causes nightmares," Ed said. "Oh, and it had teeth like a beaver," he remarked, as he turned off the flashlight and he and Running Bear lay back down for more sleep.

"Teeth weren't showing in any of my photos," said John. "They weren't pointy teeth like those of a bear?"

"No, it had giant incisors like a beaver. Maybe the Tribe should have named it Hairless Beaver or Hairless Gopher instead of Hairless Bear. At least that wouldn't sound as scary."

Running Bear laughed. "A giant man-eating beaver or gopher would be scary enough!"

Both men slept, but for Ed strange dreams returned, again in the form of a slow constant message of warning. But Ed also sensed something else deeper in the background; a subtle but immensely powerful murmuring of a multitude similar to that of the jants, but it was clearly not the jants. There seemed to be countess thousands of hungry beings close by, beginning to stir from a long sleep and calling out like waking babies that demanded to be fed. Their thought was powerful but almost beyond the range of his perception, like a sound too deep to be heard. From it a single concept formed in Ed's mind: HUNGER!

Ed again woke in the darkness but this time he didn't wake Running Bear. Instead he simply broadcast thoughts about his dreams as strongly as he could in the hope that Mouse would receive them.

"RECEIVED," he sensed her immediate reply. Satisfied, he went back to sleep again, and this time though he could more easily sense the turtle warnings and Stone-Coat bleating he slept well.

****

Ed woke to the smell of soup and a soft kiss on his lips. Opening his eyes he was surprised and greatly relieved to find Mary instead of Running Bear at his side, and Jack sitting near her holding a cup of steaming soup. Morning sunlight shone through the fabric of the tent and Running Bear was nowhere in sight. Somehow they had survived the night!

"The good news is: you did it!" said Jack.

"I knew that you could!" said Mary. "I'm so proud of you!"

"The bad news is, the Ice Giants are real, and are waking up and hungry," said Ed. "But Turtle Man must be overjoyed that I can at last hear both turtle and Stone-Coat thoughts!" Ed said, grinning. "I suppose that Mouse told him already but I want to tell him about it in person myself."

The faces of Ed's visitors suddenly turned glum. "There is some really bad news, Ed. Turtle Man is dead."

"What?" Ed felt as though the breath had been physically knocked out of him.

"He died late last night very shortly after Mouse told him about your success," Mary explained. "Talking Owl thinks that he was hanging on to life in order to hear that piece of good news. She says that he died contented."

"Contented? Crap!" said Ed. "I should have waited until morning to tell anyone!"

"He was a hundred and fifteen years old, Ed," said Jack. "You helped him die happy. You can't do much better than dying happy at a hundred-fifteen."

"I suppose not," conceded Ed. "Who would want to live forever anyway?"

"The Tribe is of course in shock, especially Talking Owl."

"Mouse wants you and Running Bear to report back to the Lodge in person for the funeral and for Tribe leadership meetings that will follow," said Jack, as he handed Ed his cup of soup. "We don't know what the political fallout will be, but it might be messy."

"Messy political fallout?" Ed responded. "The damn Stone-Coats are real and they are hungry and they are waking up! Isn't that messy enough?"

"Rumor has it that Singing Moon wants to become the new Religious Chief," said Jack. "Drink your soup."

"Singing Moon?" said Ed. "That's absurd! She doesn't believe in Stone-Coats and she isn't even psychic! Worst of all she's a nasty piece of work personality-wise. Her daughter was Turtle Man's apprentice and should become Chief!"

"But Talking Owl hasn't talked to turtles," said Jack. "Singing Moon argues that since she hasn't, her daughter is no more qualified for the job than she is. Actually in theory you are now the only highly qualified Tribe member available."

Ed almost choked on his soup. "What?"

"Technically you are a member of the Turtle Clan and you are the only person alive to have talked with turtles and Stone-Coats," said Jack. "You should be a shoe-in for the title of Turtle Man and the job of Religious Chief."

"That's totally crazy!" Ed objected.

Jack shrugged. "It is what it is! But first things first: you and Running Bear need to report to the Great Lodge. Mary and I will keep an eye out here at the campsite while you are gone."

"Mary staying here?" objected Ed. "No way! What if the big stone beaver fully wakes up? I won't have it!"

"You aren't chief yet, Mr. Raccoon," said Mary. "I'm staying right here with Jack until you get back. I'll be fine; after all, I can run faster than Jack."

Ed and Jack both gave her a blank look in response.

"You both surely know that old joke about only having to run faster than the other guy when a bear attacks," she explained. "I'm quick as a squirrel but Jack is an old fart and slow as a turtle. Finish your soup, Ed, and get going."

"Swell," said Jack.

They carefully studied Hairless Bear and Running Bear took more photos before they set off for the Lodge. They satisfied themselves that Hairless hadn't moved since yesterday, but to Ed he looked slightly taller.

"Yes, his entire neck and shoulders are exposed today," said Running Bear. "Perhaps he is not getting taller but instead the woodpile is getting shorter. Or maybe both."

"Of course! He absorbs the wood!" said Ed. "Nevertheless we better get to the Turtle Man Lodge and then come back here pronto."

Ed and John half walked, half jogged to the Great Lodge of Turtle Man. Despite temperatures well below freezing, they found the amphitheater packed full of mournful Tribe members that stepped aside to allow the two newcomers to pass. Most were chanting or wailing as they shuffled their feet to help stay warm and/or commemorate Turtle Man. Many of the mourners were telepathic, but Ed could not distinguish many words or clear thoughts; it was as if the pain of the mourners was beyond the reach of mere language.

The Tribe Elders were all crowded into the Elder's Great Dome, close to a hundred of them, all facing towards the back of the Dome where the body of Turtle Man lay. Ed and John weaved their way through the other mourners, arriving at last at the bed of Turtle Man. The remaining Tribe leaders formed an inner circle around the bed, including the tearful Talking Owl. Even the always scowling Singing Moon participated.

The body itself evidently lay out of sight on the bed below a growing covering of parting gifts from the Tribe, including colorful robes, necklaces, and scarves. Ed was actually greatly relieved not to see a body; he hated funerals and in particular dead bodies at funerals. John Running Bear reached inside his coat and pulled out a huge hunting knife, which he reverently placed atop the pile of gifts.

Ed was aware of eyes turning towards him as he suddenly realized that he was expected to also provide a gift! What? He had nothing of value! Finally he fumbled with his wallet and produced a highly valued photo of himself and Mary, which he placed next to John Running Bear's knife. In case that wasn't enough he added his social security card, which was all worn out and he hadn't used in decades anyway.

Mouse mumbled something unintelligible amid the seething din of voices and thoughts that filled the Dome, and as one the two dozen people surrounding the bed reached down and lifted the entire bed shoulder high: frame, body, and gifts. Then as they wordlessly chanted, they slowly carried it away, around the glowing eternal flame and out the front door. The amphitheater crowd greatly increased the volume of their chanting and wailing. Ed had one hand on the bedframe, and struggled mightily to contribute to the carrying of it, and to avoid tripping his fellow bed-bearers. At one particularly icy spot he slipped and would have fallen, but was immediately supported by the immense strength of John Running Bear, who steadily walked beside him, along with hundreds of others.

Ed had no idea where the precession was going, but merely followed along with the others. At last at the far side of the amphitheater they sat the bed down upon a large woodpile and stepped back. Others added more and more wood around the bed, until it was surrounded and covered by a ten-foot high wood pile. A dozen flaming torches were abruptly thrown onto the woodpile by the chanting crowd, and it burst into bright flame.

In the woods around them a mournful chorus of howling grey wolves and coyotes erupted, and Ed thought that he heard bears growling deeply and raptors shrieking high above. He extended his thoughts and confirmed that dozens of the creatures were nearby, and echoing the distress broadcast by their human brethren; friends of the Tribe that shared their sorrows as well as they shared the forests and mountains.

Ed and the Elders stood silently and watched the flame grow to a great height as it engulfed the bed and Turtle Man. The burning wood was mostly small, dry branches and it burned away very fast and hot; in twenty minutes most of it crumbled away and was gone, along with the bed, the parting gifts, and Turtle Man. Coals glowed red then slowly faded to darkness. For too short a time the funeral fire warmed Turtle Man's people, then like the great man's life it was gone forever, consumed into smoke and ash.

"He joins our ancestors, as we will someday join him," pronounced Talking Bear, officially ending the gathering.

When all flame was gone most of the crowd quietly dispersed and Mouse led Ed, John, and a dozen Tribe Leaders and Elders back to the Dome of Elders. There Doc joined them. The Leaders and Elders sat on the rug-covered floor in a circle near the Eternal Flame, and John, Ed, and Doc sat together behind them.

Mouse spoke first. "It is in such times as these that the Tribe needs to rally its true strength. We must pause in our mourning to address urgent matters. Before we discuss Tribe leadership I want us to hear and see what Raccoon and Running Bear have found. I gave everyone only brief verbal reports last night. Also we will get a report on the study of the artifact from Doc and White Cloud."

"I object," said Singing Moon. "Nothing is more important than Tribe leadership; that should be settled first."

The pronouncement stunned the others gathered in the Dome like a thunderclap. Here in the Great Dome where Turtle Man died only hours earlier, Singing Moon was back to her divisive politics already.

"Nothing is more important now than information about the awakening of the Stone-Coats," countered Mouse.

"We have heard that old story all of our lives," said Singing Moon, "but none of us has ever seen a living Stone-Coat, nor have our parents, or their parents before them. If they ever existed at all it has been hundreds of years since they lived."

"We have indeed for a long time been fortunate that they sleep," said Mouse.

"We have been ignorant for a long time," retorted Singing Moon. "Many of our children have been to the outside world, and seen wonders and wealth that our Tribe members deny for themselves. It is time to reject the myth of the Stone-Coats and fully open our Tribe to new ways and new things."

"We have in recent years brought many new things and ways to the Tribe, Daughter," replied Mouse patiently. "But we must also not forget our commitment to guard against the Stone-Coats. We must all be prepared to stop them when they wake!"

"They will never wake, Mother," replied Singing Moon. "Besides, if they were to wake we are no longer the ones to stop them, the white man with their weapons of war would be the ones to stop them. Why should our men be the ones to save a world that is no longer ours? The Stone-Coats are dead, and the old Tribe ways need to die also. Talking with animals using our minds is a thing of the past and no longer needed. With the passing of Turtle Man, now is the time to break from the past and start a new life." Several of the other elders shook their heads in agreement.

"Many young warriors of our Bear and Wolf clans doubtlessly agree with much of what you say, Singing Moon," said Chief Talking Bear. "Many of them have seen the wonders and comforts that the outside world has to offer. But the outside world also offers many evils and would take away our identity and purpose as stewards to this world. Many still believe in our ancient commitment to hide and guard against the Stone-Coats. But you raise the central issue. If there are no Stone-Coats, it may indeed be time that we take a different path."

Following their gasps of surprise, many Singing Moon supporters nodded in agreement, and several muttered their affirmation aloud. Ed could sense that Mouse was becoming very concerned. If Chief Mike Talking Bear sided with his wife Singing Moon, perhaps she would get everything she wanted. Until last night, the Tribe abandoning their Stone-Coat myth commitment was what Ed also wanted. But that was yesterday. Now he was convinced that Stone-Coat Ice Giants were real and were waking up.

Mouse shook her head sadly. "I did not realize that so many in the Tribe wish to abandon their heritage and abandon our commitment to contain the Stone-Coats." She shot an icy glance towards Chief Mike, who quickly looked away.

Ed felt sorry for Chief Mike. The poor bastard was probably regularly beat-up by both his wife and Mouse.

"There are no Stone-Coats, Mother!" said Singing Moon adamantly.

"You don't know that!" Taking Owl objected.

"Most of us do know it," Singing Moon claimed. Again there were nods and murmurs of agreement from several elders. "While you were listening to the ravings of an old man, others of us have been concerned with the real world. The Tribe's new generations reject the old myths."

"Ravings of an old man?" sputtered Mouse. The old woman was so angry that Ed thought she might club her daughter with her walking stick. "Ravings?"

John Running Bear cleared his throat, causing the Mohawk to turn their attentions to him. "Pardon this intrusion by a stranger, but I have a solution that everyone might agree to."

"You do, Mohican?" Singing Moon said icily. "You?"

"Singing Moon makes a lot of sense," continued Running Bear. "Agree to do what she wishes in the spring, if the Stone-Coats do not wake before then. That would be sensible."

"And if they do awaken?" asked Mouse, her voice steel-edged and strong. "What then?"

"Then the Tribe will continue its unselfish commitment to contain them and to bring new outside things to the Tribe only selectively," said the Mohican. "But as you yourself said, Singing Moon, even if the Stone-Coats once existed they haven't awoken in hundreds of years, or they have actually been dead for a very long time. What is the chance that they will wake during this particular winter?"

"None at all!" declared Singing Moon, grinning.

"Very well, I officially propose what the Mohican has said," said Mouse. "Further, if the Stone-Coats do not wake before spring I propose that Singing Moon herself be declared Religious Chief, as even without the ability to read thoughts she has been wise enough to see truth. In the meantime Talking Owl, the apprentice of Turtle Man, will temporarily perform Religious Chief duties under my advisement. She will become Religious Chief permanently if the Stone-Coats wake. How many here agree to all of this?"

All of the astonished Elders and Leaders raised their hands.

"The motion is carried!" declared Talking Bear, who looked very relieved, though a bit perplexed.

The grinning Singing Moon and three of her supporting elders stood and stepped away towards the Dome exit.

"Wait sisters!" said Mouse. "There are the reports on Bear Claw and Hairless Bear to hear now!"

"A waste of time," said Singing Moon, as she and her supporters continued to walk away. "We have no need for more delusions and lies. You in the Great Lodge can for a time continue to waste your days dreaming about Stone-Coats. Our people are no longer children, to be cowed by stories of monsters and led by dreamers and animal talkers. We of the Village will tend to the real Tribe needs such as food and firewood, for the winter will be long and cold. But then afterwards the spring will be all the warmer!"

"Very well Daughter," said Mouse. "We will somehow manage to continue on without you."

Chief mike exited the Dome with his wife and announced to the remaining crowd what had been decided. There were a few resulting cheers, but mostly there were incredulous looks. Singing Moon as Religious Chief? That seemed like an absurd contradiction!

"First let us hear from Raccoon and our very clever visiting Mohican," Mouse announced, when Chief Mike soon returned.

"Yes, Running Bear," said Chief Mike. "Let's see those photos of Hairless Bear."

"I have them here on a decent sized screen," said White Cloud, as he produced a twenty-two inch monitor connected to a small laptop. Those who remained repositioned themselves in a tight half-circle facing the screen.

White Cloud flipped through the pictures as Running Bear narrated. The very first photo, a zoom in on the Hairless Bear head from ground level, drew loud exclamations from the observers.

"For all of my long life including only a week ago I have seen only granite in the vague shape of a bear's head," said Mouse. "Now the granite has disappeared and nothing but the bare Stone-Coat head remains!"

The photos of the clawed hand also received much attention. "The fingers and hand were mere bulges in granite only two weeks ago when my braves renewed the woodpile!" said White Cloud. "How is this possible? And there should be more wood! We even covered most of the head with wood! Also there should be two feet of snow atop the woodpile and hairless bear!"

John passed around the piece of half-eaten wood and his partly eaten away glove, and explained that the wood pile has been gradually disappearing. "Wood that touches Hairless Bear is absorbed by him. Perhaps the granite and snow has also been eaten away by him!"

The loudest exclamations occurred when the photo of the bear head with its red eye was shown. "The eye is alive!" one exclaimed. "It can't be a coincidence that Turtle Man died on the same night that this happened," said another in alarm.

"Weren't you scared?" Talking Owl asked the Mohican.

"Damn right I was scared when the eye lit up," admitted Running Bear.

"But he bravely took the pictures anyway," said Ed. "Meanwhile I was comfortably warm and ignorant inside the tent. Then later I heard turtle thoughts and what I believe were Stone-Coat thoughts, and it was my turn to be scared." He described his experience. "The bottom line is that the turtles say that the Stone-Coats are waking up and are hungry, and the Stone-Coats also themselves say that they are hungry. I can hear thousands of them chattering away."

"This is already far worse than last year!" exclaimed Chief Mike, "and we are only a few days into winter weather!"

"And it is still only October," complained Mouse. "Doc, is an ice age coming?"

"Technically the world has been in an ice age for the last two and a half million years," Doc replied. "It's called the Quaternary Ice Age. There has been a gradual decrease in carbon dioxide in the atmosphere and cooling for over thirty million years that probably helped lead to it. Within an ice age, the world climate fluctuates between glacial and interglacial periods which can last tens of thousands of years. The resulting hardships may have shaped the emergence of our own species.

"We are in a warm interglacial period now that started more than ten thousand years ago. That warm period is likely to continue and intensify at least another ten thousand years, due to our carbon fuel loving ways. Huge glaciers were receding from this area roughly ten thousand years ago. I don't think that it's a coincidence that your tribe first settled here then, when the last glaciers were receding from this area."

"And encountered and learned how to deal with Stone-Coats?" asked Ed.

Doc shrugged. "It's a hypothesis."

"Do you think that Stone-Coats came into being during our ice age?" Mouse asked.

"Probably not during the Quaternary," replied Doc. "That wouldn't have provided a long enough time span. But the occurrence of ice ages goes back billions of years, and some of them lasted for tens or even hundreds of millions of years. These creatures probably originated and evolved during a much longer ice age than the current one. The two greatest ice ages were more than two billion years ago and over six-hundred million years ago when most or all the entire surface of Earth may have been covered in ice, by ice sheets more than a mile thick. Some scientists call those ice ages the Snowball Earth events. There have been several additional long ice ages since then. I suspect that our sort of life evolved and flourished in the times between the ice age glacial periods, and the Stone-Coat sort of life thrived during the glacial periods. That resulted in two fundamentally different life forms for two very different environments."

"But how can rock live and evolve?" Ed asked. "Ever hear the expression 'dumb as a rock'?"

"The short answer to that question is that we don't know yet." admitted Doc. "But through analysis of the Bear Claw we are learning more. White Cloud?"

There were more gasps when White Cloud displayed view after view of the Bear Claw artifact under various lighting conditions. The Claw clearly matched the Hairless Bear claws of John's photos, but these amazing Bear Claw photos had been taken under better lighting conditions using higher resolution cameras.

"This is what's left of one of our cobalt steel drill bits that we used last night on a Bear Claw scale," White Cloud said. The photo was a close-up of a drill bit with a flattened tip. "That drill bit did nothing at all to the scale. We finally resorted to use of an expensive tungsten carbide drill bit that had embedded polycrystalline diamonds in its tip." A second broken drill bit was shown. The tip of this one was shattered and broken off. "This drill bit created a small scratch on the Hairless Bear scale that disappeared in a few minutes. The scale actually healed itself!"

"What are your bottom-line conclusions?" Talking Bear asked.

"The scales and the claw tip itself exhibit a hardness of level of ten on the standard Mohs scale of hardness and are clearly diamonds," said Doc. "Further, they quickly heal themselves when damaged, suggesting that they are alive in some sense."

"How could a scratched diamond heal itself?" Chief Mike asked.

"We don't know," Doc admitted. "But the healing suggests that the Claw is alive. The overall Claw structure is made up of crystals of various elements and combinations of elements. We don't yet know their functions but we see similar crystals throughout the Claw structure, indicating that the same sort of pattern is being followed throughout. To us that seems to be another suggestion of life."

"Such a pattern implies information," said White Cloud. "Information that must reside within all Stone-Coats and throughout each Stone-Coat."

"For our sort of life the information on how our bodies are structured is essentially encoded chemically in complex carbon-based molecules called genes," said Doc.

"How is it done for Stone-Coats?" Ed asked.

"We don't know yet," Doc admitted. "For our carbon-based life forms we have centuries of scientific research to aid our understanding; for these creatures we have only centuries of legends and one day of clumsy science."

"There appear to be dark-colored strands throughout the Claw that are suggestive of nerves or veins," said Doc. "Those could be another form of carbon called graphite, or they could even be organic material, but their composition and function is totally speculation at this point. Our research has only begun."

"You have discovered much in a very short time," noted Mouse.

"Only the tiny tip of a giant iceberg," said Doc. "As to how these stone creatures move and think and reproduce, we simply don't know."

"Yes, we clearly need to know much more," said Chief Mike. "How can we kill or otherwise stop them if we don't better understand how they are alive?"

"We could use a lot more science brainpower on this, that's for sure," said Doc.

Ed happened to know a scientist with enormous brainpower. Could he be contacted?

****

### CHAPTER XI

### A Conversation with Jerry Green

"WE UNDERSTAND THE SITUATION AND WILL NOW ATTEMPT TO CONTACT JERRY GREEN TO SEE IF HE IS INTERESTED IN DISCUSSING THE MATTER WITH YOU," said the jants, after Ed succeeded in contacting them, outlined the situation, and explained his request. Their thought patterns seemed slower and weaker than before, and based on his experience with jants the previous winter, Ed realized what was happening. As the ground they lived in grew colder they were becoming lethargic.

Ed followed their thoughts and located this particular jant colony just outside of Giants' Rest, near where they must have disembarked from the U-Haul truck. It was located several feet underground below the root system of a large tree, safely away from the worst of the freezing cold. It was probably the best established jant colony on the Reservation, and had enough still active workers for their collective mind to function.

Perhaps due to their stupor, Ed was able to tune in to their internal chattering better than ever. They were considering how much energy would be needed to communicate with the nearest off-Reservation jant colony, and trying to decide if it was worth the expenditure. They would need considerable energy to survive the long winter. On the other hand, they thought that Ed and the Mohawks were interesting subjects of study, and therefore didn't want them to die yet.

Yet? Is that truly what they are thinking, Ed wondered?

"HELLO ED!" came Jerry Green's warm greeting, through thoughts transmitted via the vast jant telepathic network. "THE JANTS TELL ME THAT YOU MAY HAVE DISCOVERED A SILICON-BASED LIFE FORM."

"I HAVE? WHY SILICON?"

There was a several second delay. Jerry was evidently very far away. How many jant colonies and millions of jants were supporting this conversation, Ed wondered?

"GOOD, PLEASE KEEP YOUR STATEMENTS SHORT, ED RUMSFELD," interjected the local jants, in the interim. "BROADCASTING SO FAR EXPENDS MUCH ENERGY."

"I OVERSIMPLIFY," thought Jerry, "BUT THAT'S MY INITIAL CONJECTURE. MINERALS SOMEHOW BEGAN TO REPRODUCE AND PROLIFERATE WITHIN AND USING NATURAL CRYSTALLINE STRUCTURES AS A STARTING FRAMEWORK."

"WHY?" asked Ed, providing as short a question as he could come up with.

"WHY NOT?" responded Jerry, after the expected pause. "OUR CARBON BASED LIFE FORMED WHEN COMPLEX CARBON-BASED MOLECULES BEGAN TO REPLICATE THEMSELVES, WHY SHOULDN'T SILICON-BASED MINERALS DO THE SAME?"

"WHY SILICON?"

Pause.

"IT HAD TO BE SILICON AND/OR CARBON TO GET TO THE LEVEL OF COMPLEXITY REQUIRED. SILICON ITSELF CAN'T SUSTAIN THE COMPLEX STRUCTURES THAT CARBON DOES IN FLUID OR GASEOUS ENVIRONMENTS, BUT IN COMBINATION WITH WELL ORDERED MINERAL STRUCTURES PERHAPS IT CAN. ALSO, THE FACT THAT THESE CREATURES INHABIT SILICON-RICH GRANITE SUGGESTS THAT SILICON AS WELL AS CARBON IS IMPORTANT TO THEM. IN ADDITION, SILICON MIGHT HAVE FACILITATED THEIR DEVELOPMENT OF SOME SORT OF INTELLIGENCE."

"HOW?"

Pause.

"EVER HEAR OF SILICON VALLEY, ED? THESE LIFE FORMS ARE OBVIOUSLY MASTERS OF MINERAL MANIPULATION. MAYBE THEY CAN DOPE SILICON WITH VARIOUS ELEMENTS THAT HAVE LOOSE ELECTRONS TO FORM STRUCTURES WITH VARIOUS ELECTRICAL PROPERTIES TO FORM THEIR OWN INTERNAL COMPUTER CHIPS. MAYBE CARBON IN THE FORM OF GRAPHENE SHEETS OR NANOTUBES PROVIDES ELECTRICAL AND INFORMATIONAL CONNECTIVITY THROUGHOUT THEIR CRYSTAL DOMINATED BODIES. ELECTRICAL ENERGY AND ITS MANIPULATION IS NEEDED FOR THEM TO CONTROL THE IONIC BONDS OF MINERALS AND TO POWER THEIR COMPUTER-LIKE THOUGHT PROCESSES."

Ed wasn't sure what the hell Jerry had just told him but he would pass it on to the others. "SMART ROCKS? ARE YOU SERIOUS?"

This time the pause was twice as long. "I'M MERELY SPECULATING ABOUT THIS ASTONISHING DISCOVERY FROM THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY, ED, BUT THAT'S MY BEST GUESS. PERHAPS THESE CREATURES ARE ESSENTIALLY LIVING COMPUTERS. IF THEY MOVE ABOUT AND HAVE FEELINGS THAT YOU CAN DETECT TELEPATHICALLY THAT CERTAINLY IMPLIES HIGHLY COMPLEX INFORMATION PROCESSING THAT IS FAR MORE SOPHISTICATED THAN PROVIDED BY OUR CURRENT COMPUTERS."

"WHERE WOULD THEY GET ELECTRIC POWER?" Ed asked.

Long pause.

"GOOD QUESTION. THEY MAY FAVOR COLD WEATHER BUT THEY NEED ENERGY FROM SOMEWHERE. IN THIS UNIVERSE NOTHING CAN ESCAPE THE SECOND LAW OF THERMODYNAMICS. THEY MIGHT BE ABLE TO MANIPULATE MINERALS TO FORM BATTERIES TO TEMPORARILY STORE ENERGY BUT THOSE WOULD NOT BE ULTIMATE ENERGY SOURCES. THEY MAY COMBUST CARBON LIKE WE DO WITH OUR FOOD, AND POSSIBLY THEY COULD BUILD THEIR OWN SOLAR ENERGY PANELS, BUT I DOUBT THAT WOULD PROVIDE ENOUGH ENERGY FOR THE EFFECTIVE LOCOMOTION OF HEAVY ROCK BODIES. ALSO SOLAR PANELS WOULD DO THEM NO GOOD WHEN THEY ARE BURIED IN ROCK MOST OF THE TIME.

"ANYWAY, ALL THAT WOULD PROBABLY STILL NOT PROVIDE ENOUGH ENERGY TO POWER GIANT STONE MONSTERS THAT WALK ABOUT THOUGH SOME SUCH SOURCES MUST HAVE BEEN IMPORTANT TO THEIR ORIGINS AND EARLY EVOLUTION. I SUSPECT THAT THEY HAVE SINCE LEARNED TO TAP THE ENERGIES OF NUCLEAR DECAY. I WOULD CHECK TO SEE IF THEY ARE RADIOACTIVE."

The suggestion rocked Ed. Radioactive? What the hell! "SWELL, JERRY! THE JANTS HERE TIRE, AND WE NEED TO CUT THIS CONVERSATION OFF. ANY OTHER QUICK ADVICE?"

Pause.

"MOVE SOUTH."

****

Good advice at last, thought Ed, as he walked uphill towards the Hairless Bear site again. It was at least ten degrees below freezing, and the wind was starting to pick up and drift the snow again. He had left John Running Bear and Talking Owl at the Hairless Bear site after sending Mary and Jack back to the lab. When he returned to the site he wasn't surprised to find that the wood pile around Hairless Bear was a couple of feet shorter and/or Hairless Bear was taller, but John and Talking Owl were sitting around the campfire chatting away amiably as though nothing troubling was happening. John was actually smiling, and so was Talking Owl.

"I spoke with Jerry Green via the jants," he announced to them.

"I don't suppose that Jerry Green told you where he is hiding?" asked John.

"Someplace a hell of a lot warmer than here," said Ed.

John laughed. "It is very cold today. Where is Global Warming when you need it?"

"It's making Alaska and most of the rest of the world warmer, but we're stuck here," Ed replied, before he told them details about his conversation with Jerry.

"A long distance conversation using jant telepathy!" remarked John. "I suppose that for the sake of humanity I will need to tell the NSA about that, but first I will need to devise a clever cover story that does not reveal how I could ever have learned such a thing."

"Jerry's speculations could be important to our little science team," Talking Owl noted. "You two should resume your work here, while I return to the lab with this information." With that she stood and walked away through the drifting snow. A snowy white owl flew above her, they noticed.

Ed watched John longingly watch Talking Owl walk away. The Mohican's smile quickly faded away and his usual somber demeanor returned. "I suppose that you better take a little nap in the tent and try to talk to turtles and smart rocks," John suggested.

"Right," agreed Ed.

John began fussing with his cameras. "I'm going to use my NSA know-how to set up a remote camera surveillance of Hairless Bear so that he can be directly monitored from the lab. Not that I don't enjoy staying out here in the cold in a tent with you, Ed Rumsfeld, but I don't want to do it forever."

"Me either," agreed Ed, as he and John set about to accomplish their assignments.

This time Ed was able to more easily hear turtles and Stone-Coats without even the help of blackberry bourbon. "MESSAGE RECEIVED!" he replied to the continuing cries of alarm from the turtles. There were six of them nearby he determined, set up to hibernate not far from a tiny nearby stream. Over the next half hour the biggest and oldest one expressed condolences to Ed for the death of Talking Turtle. That was the wise turtle, Ed surmised. After Ed thanked them for several minutes, for the next half hour they told Ed that it was time for them to sleep their long winter sleep.

One by one the turtles became silent. At some point they would perhaps dream something interesting, but whatever additional wisdom they might wish to consciously provide would have to wait for spring. Ed hoped that the hibernating turtles would last that long; the winters here were getting too long for them. Maybe he could rent another U-Haul and move them somewhere warmer.

With the turtles finally silent, Ed could sense the Stone-Coats much more clearly. Hunger is what they projected constantly: overwhelming hunger. Ed sensed that there was much more that they were thinking: quick flashes of information that he didn't understand at all. There was also an echoing quality to their 'hunger' message and to the quick flashes similar to what he sensed from the jants, suggesting to Ed that he was listening not to a single Stone-Coat but to a great multitude of Stone-Coats that were sometimes feeling and thinking together as one great hive-mind. He tried to isolate to a single individual but couldn't. He focused on several different questions but got no reply. He thought English words and Mohawk words, but got no response.

There was clearly yet another level of Stone-Coat communications going on that had to be deciphered, but so far he was getting nowhere with it. At last he gave up and left the tent. He found the Mohican sitting near the fire eating MRE soup and sat down next to him. The warmth of the fire felt wonderful but it warmed only one side of him at a time. "If we ever do this again let's build two camp-fires that we can sit between, John."

"Good idea, if you would be so kind to gather the extra wood needed," John replied. "Also you would assume full responsibility for the resulting extra C-O-2 emissions and more extreme climate change." He handed Ed a cup of hot soup.

"I promise I will plant a carbon-fixing tree someplace," Ed replied, after sipping soup. "Or maybe we need all the Global Warming we can get to hold back the next glacial period. Did you set up the surveillance cameras?"

"Affirmative; I've got all three cameras going now. I had to lay out co-axial cable between them and all the way to the lab though; there's too much interference around Hairless Bear for any of the normal sorts of atmospheric signal communications."

Between soup slurps Ed told John about his turtle and Stone-Coat telepathic experiences. John's only immediate response was to say "interesting," But Ed could tell that he was mulling things over. The sun was rapidly setting and it was getting colder as the two men cleaned the soup pot and their cups, mostly using snow.

"It's supposed to get to below zero here tonight, Ed. What say we move our cold carbon and water-based butts back to the lab, where we can more comfortably watch for Hairless Bear movement using the cameras and make use of the fancy white-man inspired indoor plumbing? Let the clan animals and the cameras carry on the watch. I've got some ideas about electrical interference to talk to White Cloud, Jack, and Doc about. We can leave the tent and most gear here and travel light."

"I like the way you think, partner," replied Ed.

The uphill trudge to the lab was more work than Ed thought it would be, as the growing wind had recreated three-foot snow drifts that obscured the pathway, but the thought of spending the night with Mary in the semi-warm Great Lodge spurred him on. Not for the first time he marveled at how much his physical condition had improved since his Jerry and jant encounter more than a year ago. He wasn't even tired or out of breath when he arrived at the lab and exchanged a warm hug with Mary. For John Running Bear the hike had also been an easy one, and Ed noticed that the Mohican 's demeanor brightened up considerably when he found that Talking Owl was present in the lab. How much of the Mohican's desire to hike to the lab was motivated by Talking Owl, Ed wondered?

Crowded to one side of the lab, the little science team was already in deep discussion about ideas stimulated by the Jerry Green's insights. "The possibilities are simply mind boggling," Doc explained to Ed and John. "The key might indeed be carbon, and its ability to form in both two-dimensional sheets of hexagonally arranged atoms called graphene, and in the form of three dimensional crystal lattices. With the 3-D lattice you get diamond, which is usefully the hardest known substance and a very poor electrical conductor. In graphene you get tensile strength a hundred times greater than steel and conductivity that can be better than copper."

"Graphene sheets can also be structured as microscopic tubes called carbon nanotubes, with a variable electrical conductivity depending on how they are structured," added White Cloud. "Using carbon nanotubes and electrical impulses various minerals could be selectively transported throughout the body."

"That means that nanotubes could in principle perform functions analogous to both blood vessels and nerves," noted Doc.

"But silicon also has interesting properties," White Cloud explained. "Silicon based structures also provide the potential for a great variation in electrical properties, particularly when doped with various metalloids and so forth. And besides being nearly as hard as diamond, quartz is even a better electric insulator than diamond."

"Oh!" exclaimed Doc. "Our Geiger counter came. Good news: the Claw is radioactive!"

"That's good?" Ed asked.

"Well, it might help explain how the Stone-Coats are powered," said Doc. "The object is not so radioactive that occasional short term contact poses a serious danger to us, but you wouldn't want to live with one of those things under your bed."

Ed shook his head. Graphene? Nanotubes? Conductivity? Tensile strength? Radioactivity? All of this was way beyond him. "Pretend that I don't understand most of that, guys. What's the bottom line on all of this?

"A real possibility of rock-based life is the most important resulting concept," said Doc. "From the standpoint of science it's conceivable that this finger-tip might be a living super-computer." He pointed towards the nearby box that held the Bear Claw.

"But how would it ever get that way?" Ed asked. "The stuff you're talking about is beyond the current abilities of human engineering, correct? Are Stone-Coats super smart?"

Doc shrugged. "Not necessarily. The details about how our own bodies work are not all worked out by our science either, but they gradually evolved via evolution. With us it was organic carbon molecules evolving in an acquis media that led to primitive life. Through a lot of trial and error over countess trillions of generations, single cell life and then multi-cell life evolved as organic-based life forms, enabled because we carry and control an aqueous media around inside of ourselves.

"With Stone-Coat life forms it was a crystalline media instead of water that supported life-creation and a separate evolutionary path. As our ancestors learned to control the aqueous media inside their cells, Stone-Coat ancestors developed the means to control the form of their mineral bodies. In both cases some measure of intelligence eventually became a positive factor for continuing survival, and it naturally emerged as a capability in both of our lines of evolution. But they need not have developed a science that helps them understand what they are. The blind watchmaker that is evolution made them just as it made us."

"The game theorists have computer models that strongly support the notion of evolution," added Jack. "Just as we didn't have to be designed by biologists, the Stone-Coats didn't have to be designed by mineralogists and computer designers. Life didn't need to be designed. We all arose due to the materials and the basic mathematical laws of nature put into place at the Big Bang."

Ed wasn't totally sure they had answered his question, or what watchmakers or games or big bangs had to do with anything, but he felt reassured that his science oriented friends finally thought that they knew what might be going on.

"However the oldest Stone-Coat legends speak of various sizes and shapes for Stone-Coats, and Hairless Bear clearly resembles a flesh and blood bear," said Talking Owl. "Perhaps the fact that they mimic our life forms suggests that they can purposely manipulate gross aspects of their anatomy. Might that also be an advantage that their evolution would favor?"

Running Bear was staring at Talking Owl in open-mouthed awe. Ed didn't have to read his mind to guess his thoughts. She was beautiful and brilliant too! Wow!

"Our Mohican also has some thoughts to pass on to us, I believe," Talking Owl concluded. "Do you not?" She turned her gaze to John Running Bear and their eyes locked.

There was an awkward silence that seemed to go on forever as the two stared into each other's eyes.

"Yes, John," Ed cued him. "It was something about electrical interference, wasn't it?"

"It was," said John. "Perhaps the unintelligible static that Ed and Talking Owl sense telepathically is related to the electromagnetic interference that plagues our signal devices when near Hairless Bear or the Mountain. Perhaps they are both manifestations of Stone-Coat electronic based thought and communication. Maybe what we sense or measure and interpret as noise is how they communicate between themselves. Their feelings as detected by turtles and Ed may be slow, but perhaps their cogent thought and communications are computer-fast, so fast and perhaps digital that we think it is noise."

"Nifty!" exclaimed Doc. "If that's the case, maybe electronic signals could be used by us to communicate with them!"

"Or perhaps hurt or repel them," added Jack.

"Based on legends it is fire that repels them," noted Doc, "but it doesn't destroy them. It just stops them in their tracks."

"You bring up another important clue to their physiology," said Talking Owl. "They have to be in an environment below the freezing point of water in order to move. The freezing point of water is very significant to them. In the Hiawatha story Hairless Bear bled water and ice when the Bear Claw was broken off. Water runs in their veins."

"Frozen water expands by several percent," John pointed out. "Men build machines that operate using hydraulic fluid within hydraulic lines and cylinders. Perhaps using the freezing and melting of ice they can move by means of the resulting hydraulic pressures."

"Natural freezing of ice is so powerful that it even breaks apart rock," noted Doc. "Perhaps over time Stone-Coat life forms adapted that natural phenomenon to their repertoire of tricks in order to eventually achieve motion. They could have evolved ice-driven hydraulic systems to move body parts." He shrugged. "Of course this is all conjecture. So far we haven't verified that they can move at all."

****

### CHAPTER XII

### Hairless Bear Wakes

"What the hell?" John suddenly muttered. He stood and moved closer to the monitor that displayed the camera feeds from the Hairless Bear site. The three windows that displayed camera outputs appeared to be blank.

"Malfunction?" Ed asked.

"I don't think so," said White Cloud. "My wolf friends watching at the site are very upset and frightened." Indeed, the eerie sound of howling wolves erupted outside, loud enough to be clearly heard inside the lab.

"My owl friends are also upset," added Talking Owl.

John was busy at the keyboard. A window with rows of numbers and mnemonics popped up that the Mohawk scrolled through quickly. "All self-checks are positive," he concluded. The system thinks that it is fully operational."

"Maybe it's the cold," Mary suggested.

"Maybe somebody stuck chewing gum over each of the lenses," said Ed. "The images are dark but not totally blank."

"Play the last few recorded minutes back," suggested Doc.

John went back five minutes. On the monitor two infra-red and one optical view of Hairless Bear appeared. The woodpile had shrunk down to Hairless Bear hip-level, the viewers noticed, but the stone giant stood unmoving in its normal pose. There was a sudden impression of motion on all screens, and the optical camera facing Hairless Bear suddenly shook, got blurry, and then quickly became dark.

"Replay that in slow-mo if you can," said Doc.

In slow motion the astonished viewers saw something shoot out from the mouth region of Hairless Bear and strike and cover the optical camera. John replayed the event even slower. "It spat on my camera!" he exclaimed.

"Possibly water at near freezing temperatures," said Doc. "Striking the even colder camera and air it would quickly freeze into ice, covering the lens. Let the recording play further forward."

They watched as the head of Hairless Bear abruptly twisted towards the second camera and repeated its spitting actions, and then towards the third camera. Soon the feed from all three cameras was essentially blank.

"Damn!" said John. "The head moves! And it put all three of my cameras out of commission in about ten seconds!"

"It did that for a reason." said Ed. "It's up to something!"

"What I find amazing is that it apparently recognized their function and acted to effectively nullify them," said Doc. "High intelligence is definitely implied."

"Someone should hike to the site to see if Hairless Bear is still there," Mary suggested.

"Unnecessary," said Talking Owl. She stood apart from the others, with her eyes closed tight. "It is fully awake and mobile. It walks now and my owl friends follow it, as do wolves and bears. They are all very upset that Hairless Bear is attacking a tree near the site."

"Exactly where is it?" Jack asked.

"Its exact position is unclear from my conversations with animals," said Talking Owl. "But it is not far from here and near or on the path."

They heard the sound of cracking wood and the crash of a fallen tree.

"The snow and the lab walls greatly muffle any sounds," said John. "That noise had to come from nearby. Surely no more than a hundred meters."

Everyone scrambled into winter coats and moccasins, picked up flashlights, rifles, and cameras, and rushed outside. They ran to the nearby path that stretched to the Great Lodge all the way from Giants' Rest. Downhill towards the Hairless Bear site, the sound of breaking wood, hooting owls, and howling wolves shattered the stillness of an otherwise quiet winter night.

"We should warn the Lodge," said Mary, but they soon saw the light of several flashlights moving towards them from the Lodge. Distant startled voices could be heard, and it was clear that people in the Lodge were already alerted.

The crackling sound of breaking tree-limbs and the ponding sounds of monstrous footfalls came from someplace down the path towards the Hairless Bear site and was moving closer. The science team pointed all of their flashlights in the direction of the sound.

Far down the path at the edge of darkness, something monstrously large was steadily moving up the pathway. Fifty feet above the path a pair of saucer sized eyes more than a yard apart glowed red. The massive diamond scaled body below the eyes flashed multi-colored reflections from the flashlights.

"Good god!" exclaimed Mary. "It's Hairless Bear and it's coming this way!"

Step by monstrous step it moved closer!

"It follows the path!" said Talking Owl.

"Of course," said John. "Why wouldn't it take advantage of the path? Otherwise it would be walking through trees and boulders."

"It's carrying something!" said Jack.

"The animals say that it moves the forest," said Talking Owl.

"It holds a tree trunk under each arm," said John, who was watching it through telescopic night-vision goggles. "It drags the trees up the path towards the Mountain! I see a dozen owls flying above it also."

"Fascinating," remarked Doc.

"Terrifying is the word I would use, Doc," said Chief Mike Talking Bear, who had just arrived from the Lodge with a dozen rifle-armed warriors. Strapped to their backs were satchels that held torches. "It's obviously too late to light the woodpile that was surrounding Hairless Bear. The woodpiles surrounding the Lodge are being readied for lighting. In the meantime we can try out our rifles and torches on it when it gets closer. We also carry Molotov cocktails. I'm telling my bear brothers to stay away; there is nothing they can do to help us. Bullets and fire may be flying soon."

"I am telling the wolves the same," said White Cloud, "while thanking them for raising the alarm."

"Why attack it?" asked John. "It is obviously bullet-proof and so far it hasn't attacked anyone."

"Perhaps the Mohawk has a good point," said Mouse, who had suddenly appeared at the side of Chief Mike.

"Right!" added Ed. "Why piss it off? So far it hasn't attacked humans and humans haven't attacked it either. You even fed it some nice tasty firewood."

"Very well, we'll hold our fire for now," said Chief Mike. "If it moves to attack us, the lab, or the Sacred Lodge, we will attack it."

"For now let's also get ourselves off the path and out of its way!" said Running Bear.

The shocked group moved towards the lab, which was fifty yards to the right of the main path to the Lodge.

Taking monstrously huge steps, Hairless Bear soon crested the lip of the amphitheater and was in plain sight of the terrified onlookers. It indeed held a massive six-foot thick tree trunk under each arm, trunks with pointy ends that looked like they had been gnawed through by a giant beaver. They were large- sized Douglass fir trees, Ed guessed. Most of the rest of each tree was dragged behind the creature, a great tangle of mangled limbs several times as long as the monster was tall.

Up close Hairless Bear looked less like a bear; its fingers and toes were too monstrously large: fingers large enough to grasp huge trees, and huge diamond-tipped toes to dig into rock for better traction in order to drag trees up the icy Mountain. It didn't look hairless either; much of it was covered with long crystals that rather looked like hair, though like the scales they were probably made of quartz or diamond or both.

It paused and looked about as though considering which way to go. Straight ahead of it the path ended at the Sacred Dome on the far lip of the amphitheater. It ignored the lab and the gathering of humans that watched it.

"It's looking mostly at the Great Lodge," said Chief Mike. "If it heads for the Lodge we're going to light up our fires and shoot it!"

"It is simply trying to carry the trees to its hungry kin upon the Mountain." said Talking Owl, "I can hear them crying out in hunger! The Lodge blocks the straightest path!"

"Yes!" Ed exclaimed. Talking Owl was at last sensing Stone-Coat feelings! "I can hear them too! Thousands of them!"

"Light a new path for it to get to the Mountain!" John exclaimed. "Don't shine your lights directly on the creature and provoke it; point your flashlights at a spot on the ridge of the amphitheater to the left of the path!" With a large flashlight in hand, the Mohican ran off, along a side-path that led to the main path at a point ahead of Hairless Bear.

"Do as he said," seconded Talking Owl. "We must try to lead it around the Lodge and not through it! Perhaps it can be done without loss of life."

"Good plan," agreed Chief Mike. "Red Hawk and Swift Deer, take more flashlights and a pair of snowshoes to the Mohican. Lose your rifles; I doubt they would be much good anyway against a diamond-plated giant. Everyone else keep your flashlights pointed at the left rim and away from Hairless Bear. We don't want to draw him here with our lights; we want to show him a path to the Mountain that avoids the Great Lodge."

John Running Bear cut across to the path beyond Hairless Bear, and then trudged with difficulty through deep snow to a point on the amphitheater rim to the left of the path. He was gasping for breath when he shined his flashlight into the Face of Hairless Bear and blinked it on and off while shouting at the top of his lungs. Hairless Bear had no visible ears; could it hear him shout? Maybe not; but it didn't hurt to try!

The Stone-Coat turned its red eyes towards Running Bear as Red Hawk and Swift Deer reached the Mohican. Red Hawk slipped snowshoes onto him while Swift Deer mimicked his flashlight efforts. Soon the three snowshoe clad men moved off together along the left rim of the amphitheater, occasionally flashing light at the monster's red eyes. Meanwhile the flashlights of the others made the entire snow-covered left-rim dimly visible in the darkness.

The creature suddenly began to move, towards the fleeing flashing lights to its left along the rim! The creature took huge strides, and soon the three humans that led it had trouble staying ahead of it.

Just when the onlookers feared that the tree-hauling giant would overtake and run over the three men, their flashlights went dark. Without pause the Stone-Coat Ice Giant and the trees it dragged continued beyond the amphitheater, up the Mountain and out of sight.

Happy cheers erupted from the lab crew and from the direction of the distant Lodge. Mouse immediately wanted to powwow in the warm environment of lab, but Chief Mike and his daughter Talking Owl would not go inside until the Mohican and his two Mohawk companions returned, looking a bit weary but otherwise in good health and great spirits. Chief Mike greeted them all with hearty hugs and back-slapping. Talking Owl looked like she might want to give the Mohican a hug herself, but managed not to. "That was fast thinking, John," she instead told him.

"It was mostly your fast thinking, Princess," he replied. "When you said that the Stone-Coat was merely seeking a path to the Mountain, the solution became obvious. Of course on its own the Stone-Coat could have already observed that the lodge obstructed its path and decided to walk around it. Or it may have also noticed that to travel across the amphitheater would take it down and up again needlessly, and that passage along the amphitheater rim would be more energy efficient."

"Your solution wasn't very obvious to me," Ed remarked. "I was mostly too damned scared to think at all."

They crowded into the small lab building. To Ed it felt wonderful to be still alive and out of the cold, and he would love to talk about the astonishing thing that had just happened, but right now had other immediate needs. He rushed towards the small lab bathroom but as usual, Mary beat him to it. He felt some satisfaction however, that a small line formed behind him. At least he was second. "Who's the new kid?" he asked White Cloud, who stood behind him in line. Near them a young boy of perhaps fifteen years sat before a computer terminal and was watching the Bear Claw monitor while he made entries at the keyboard of a laptop.

"That's my cousin Frank Grey Wolf who was raised in Brooklyn by his steel-working dad. He even took some CUNY computer science classes last year. He's the computer whiz that sat up the computers for the lab and Wi-Fi for most of the Reservation. I added him to our science team. Right now he's going to use copper wire to measure electric conductivity through one of the scales of the Bear Claw. Our experiments must continue."

"Absolutely," Ed remarked, before taking his turn in the bathroom.

"The heroics of the Mohican and our men at least bought us some time," Chief Mike was saying, when Ed joined the gathered leadership and science groups. "But we don't know what will happen next."

"Hairless Bear will continue to feed the hungry ones," said Talking Owl.

"That is very likely," agreed Doc. "And if there really is a whole Mountain full of Stone-Coats, that could take a lot of trees.

"The legends say that they eat everything in the area when they wake," said Mouse. "That could include us and our lodges."

"Hairless Bear didn't seem hostile tonight," remarked Running Bear. He was sitting comfortably close to Talking Owl, Ed noticed. "It seemed to be mostly just avoiding our interference. It covered my cameras with ice and then later it avoided the Lodge, the lab, and us. It could have iced us like it did the cameras or crashed us like bugs, but it didn't. Of course, it could consider us to be insignificant or be merely waiting until more of its kind wake before it attacks us."

"Is this the usual way that Stone-Coat awakenings begin?" Mary asked. "And what should happen next? What do the legends say?"

"The legends say that a few Stone-Coats wake first, and those first ones are to be attacked by Tribe warriors using torches," said Talking Owl. "Obviously we skipped that part. The alerted Tribe is then to burn great fires that cause the aroused horde of Stone-Coats to retreat to the cold sanctuary of the Mountain."

"The Tribe has been alerted," added Chief Mike. "They will soon march from Giants' Rest three-thousand strong. There are woodpiles that surround the Mountain that we will light when the time comes."

"Of course in the past the Mohawk had no clever Mohicans with flashlights or scientists to help them, but the Stone-Coats were contained anyway using fire and the warmth of the coming of spring," said Mouse. "We could do that again this time, but we would likely lose many lives by merely following the path of our ancestors."

"Yes, when they were opposed by us the Stone-Coats fought the Mohawk and killed many of the Tribe," explained Talking Owl. "Talking Turtle had hoped that some other way could be found."

"In my opinion we're at a decision point now," said Running Bear. "Either we facilitate the Stone-Coats or we attack and try to stop them."

"Facilitate them how?" Chief Mike asked.

"Give them what they want," Running Bear explained, "or at least don't impede them. They want to eat trees, so let them eat trees. Let them eat your woodpiles instead of lighting them on fire."

"With what consequences?" Chief Mike asked. "To make them stronger so that they can more easily kill us? What you suggest seems like too big a gamble."

"Good point," acknowledged Running Bear. "We have no idea what they will do if we let them freely feed. The results of that path are unknown. On the other hand, if we fight them your legends say that they can be stopped. That seems to be the more certain path, though it would also likely cost many Tribe lives. Perhaps hundreds or thousands of Tribe lives."

"And that's the usual way of Man, isn't it?" added Talking Owl. "We fear and seek to destroy what we do not understand."

"It is a natural reaction for people to seek their own preservation by destroying a powerful force that could kill them," Chief Mike countered. "We must seek to preserve Tribe lives, Daughter. I am Tribe War Chief. We will gather our warriors and weapons and make ready to attack the Stone-Coats. While the rest of you seek understanding I will go to Giants' Rest to rally our fighting men." The Chief and the two warriors with him quickly left the lab, leaving the others.

"That was a shorter meeting than I figured on," said Ed.

"Talking Bear has no other choice now, he must prepare for war," said John. "Here we should try to find him another choice; either a choice for peace or a better choice of weapons, if war remains the only choice possible. I sensed intelligence behind Hairless Bear's actions. Communications with the Stone-Coats could be very useful. What do the Stone-Coat talkers sense?"

Both Ed and Talking Owl closed their eyes and sat quietly for several minutes while the others patiently waited. "I sense only their hunger," said Ed at last.

"As do I," agreed Talking Owl. "And my owl friends tell me that Stone-Coats return from the Mountain. I can hear them each chattering. There seems to be five of them."

"Yes," said Ed. "I sense five of them also, and they are getting closer." confirmed Ed.

Most of the company hurriedly put on their coats and rushed outside, where they saw five pairs of glowing red eyes moving down the mountain along the route earlier taken by Hairless Bear. The sound of their monstrous footfalls filled the air.

"Yes, there are five of them now!" exclaimed White Cloud. "Each is as large as Hairless Bear or larger!"

"Keep your flashlights off!" John implored. "Let them walk past us without unduly getting their attention."

Indeed the five stone giants were following the path originally taken by Hairless Bear, which avoided the Lodge and lab. Ed could sense the relief felt by the humans that stood with him watching them pass, along with their continuing fear and astonishment. Each giant was a copy of Hairless Bear, but three were twice as big, and the ground shook with each monstrous step that they took.

****

### CHAPTER XIII

### The Talking Claw

As the final creature passed, it suddenly stopped and turned towards the on-looking humans with its red glowing eyes!

"What the hell!" exclaimed Jack.

"Is it attacking?" Mary asked.

"It is surprised," said Talking Owl. "It listens to something, and I can sense its chattering."

It was Ed's turn to be surprised. "I can sense something in the lab also chattering! It's communicating with something in the lab!"

"The Bear Claw!" exclaimed Doc as he rushed into the lab, followed by Ed and White Cloud.

There they found young Frank Grey Wolf, alternately staring in astonishment at both the Bear Claw monitor and at his laptop screen. The cameras watching the Bear Claw showed two wires attached to it on either side of a large scale on the clawed finger.

"What's happening, Frank?" White Cloud asked his grinning cousin.

"Some really wild stuff!" the boy responded. "A minute ago I poked the scale with a copper wire and it stuck on to it."

"What do you mean?" Doc asked.

"The wire became firmly attached like it was welded on," Frank said, "right there where I poked it between the scales. The other end of the wire is attached to this little old-timey volt/amp meter, which began to jitter around like it's doing now."

The amp-meter needle was visibly vibrating. "Some kind of high frequency signal," said White Cloud.

"Right," agreed Frank. "Have you guys got an oscilloscope? At first I thought I might be picking up my own computer's USB signal passing through the scale, but it jitters like that even when I disconnect The USB."

"What USB?" Ed asked.

"The one that I attached to the other side of the scale," Frank said. "It stuck on just like the copper wire did. I was going to see if the low voltage and amperage direct current available from the USB would pass through the scale and maybe suggest hidden carbon nanotubes, or not pass through the diamond scale at all, suggesting no nanotubes. Very crude but you have to start somewhere." The boy glanced at a second device that was attached to a wire that led from the Bear Claw box and from there to the laptop. "The Bear Claw is drawing only a couple of hundred milliamps at five volts from the laptop. What do you suppose it's doing with that?"

"So the Bear Claw is plugged into your laptop?" Ed asked.

"Essentially," Frank admitted. "I intended to merely use the USB as a low voltage source for the conductivity experiment, but besides the voltage line there are of course the two serial data lines and a ground line that are also part of the USB interface. The Bear Claw must have tapped into them all, because my laptop thinks the Bear Claw is some sort of USB device and has been looking for the right drivers to communicate with it. Pretty nifty, right?"

"It's probably related to the radio communications that Running Bear talked about," said Doc.

Jack came rushing in from outside. "The good news is, four Stone-Coats have gone on down the trail, possibly in search of more trees." Indeed, their distant receding footfalls could still dimly be heard even inside the lab. "The bad news is: Hairless Bear or his identical twin stands right outside of this lab, transfixed by whatever the hell is going on in here. One more giant step and this place is history."

"I haven't heard any gunshots," Ed noted.

"John and Talking Owl have managed to restrain Chief Mike's warriors so far," said Jack, "but there are a dozen of them out there now led by Red Hawk, ready to fire up Hairless Bear if he gets destructive. Right now the thing just stands there glancing at us occasionally but mostly just staring at the lab, like it's transfixed by something inside, presumably the Bear Claw."

"It walked right by here earlier without giving the lab a glance," Doc noted.

"It couldn't sense the Bear Claw then," said White Cloud. "The Claw was hidden inside its grounded steel box, which served as an impenetrable Faraday cage as far as electronic signals are concerned. Now young Frank has provided the Claw both a copper wire antenna and a power source. Look at the images; you can see that dark strands of black material have formed inside the Claw where the two wires connect to it."

"You're right," agreed Doc. "Those dark strands of graphite or whatever weren't there before! The Claw has rewired itself to accommodate the interfaces that Frank provided!"

"Guys! Look at this!" Frank exclaimed.

On the laptop screen two words had appeared on an otherwise black screen: 'PROVIDE INPUT' it said.

"Is that the laptop or the Claw asking?" Ed asked.

"It has to be the Claw talking, or even Hairless Bear," said Frank. "If those things are super computers like we suspect them to be, they must have figured out how to communicate with us computer style!"

"I don't understand how!" said Doc.

"Figure out how they did it later," said Jack. "Right now what do we reply assuming it's them?"

"Type in something soothing and friendly, White Cloud," suggested Ed.

White Cloud took Frank's place at the laptop keyboard and typed 'WE SEEK PEACE' and hit the enter key.

"WE SEEK FOOD FOR SURVIVAL," came the immediate reply.

"How do they know English already?" Doc asked. "This doesn't make any sense!"

"So ask it," suggested Ed.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW OUR LANGUAGE?" White Cloud typed.

"SKY SIGNALS," was the brief reply.

"Humans have produced radio and TV signals for nearly a century, and digitized signals in recent years," said Frank. "Maybe they tapped into those!"

"That could explain how they've been able to communicate with us so well so quickly," said Doc. "Is this laptop also connected to the Lodge Wi-Fi?"

"For sure," said Frank. "I set up a Wi-Fi for this lab, same as in the Great Lodge. The Lodge and lab Wi-Fi get a feed from a satellite dish in the village via Ethernet. The Stone-Coats could be hooked up to the internet right now, directly through the Wi-Fi or through the laptop."

"YOU SOFT, WATER FILLED WARM CREATURES COVER OUR WORLD IN THIS WARM TIME," it noted. "YOU ARE MANY."

"OVER SEVEN BILLION," White Cloud responded.

"WE COLD ONES WAKE NOW AND NEED CERTAIN MATERIALS TO SURVIVE."

"WE FEAR YOU WILL EAT US," typed White Cloud.

"YOU WARM ONES ARE SMALL TO EAT," was the reply. "YOU ARE TOO FAST TO CATCH FOR ENOUGH FOOD, AND YOU CAN MAKE FIRE TO STOP US AGAIN. WE CAN NOT LET YOU STOP US AGAIN: WE MUST FEED NOW."

"YOU HAVE EATEN US IN THE PAST," typed White Cloud. "WE WILL STOP YOU AGAIN WITH FIRE IF YOU ATTACK US OR OUR HOMES."

"YOU AND YOUR HOMES CONTAIN FOOD WE NEED, AND WE MUST FEED."

"Human bodies like all living things contain at least three dozen different essential elements," noted Doc, "including many also used in computers. Maybe that's what they mean."

"Maybe if we feed them trees they won't eat us," Ed suggested.

"WHAT DO YOU NEED TO EAT?" White Cloud typed. "PERHAPS WE COULD PROVIDE FOOD TO YOU IF YOU AGREE NOT TO ATTACK US AND OUR HOMES."

This time there was no immediate response.

"I do not trust them," said Mouse, who along with John Running Bear and Talking Owl had come inside and crowded behind White Cloud. "We cannot read their thoughts. They could easily deceive us."

"True; we don't know them," added Running Bear. "We don't know how they think or what they might plan. We can't count on their human nature or competently judge their intensions or predict their actions."

"And we don't know what they know or don't know," added Doc. "We're really working blind here."

"What can our Stone-Coat talkers sense?" Mouse asked.

"We sense only their broad feelings and not their concrete thoughts," said Ed. "Right now I sense hunger and eagerness."

"As do I," echoed Talking Owl. "Perhaps if we had more time we could do better."

"Why don't they answer us?" asked Mary.

"Maybe they're thinking things over like we are," said Ed.

"WHAT YOU SUGGEST MAY BE ACCEPTABLE," came the Stone-Coat answer at last. "WE ASSESS THAT YOU MAY BE CAPABLE OF GATHERING FOOD FOR US EFFICIENTLY FOR OUR BENEFIT."

"FIRST WE NEED TO KNOW YOUR LONG TERM INTENTIONS," typed White Cloud.

"WE SEEK OUR SURVIVAL FOREVER," it replied. "THAT IS THE LONG TERM INTENSION OF ALL LIFE-FORMS."

"AND WHAT ABOUT THE SURVIVAL OF OUR LIFE FORMS?" asked White Cloud. "IS THERE ROOM ON THIS WORLD FOR BOTH HUMANS AND STONE-COATS?"

"WE THRIVE IN COLD TIMES; YOU THRIVE IN WARM TIMES WHILE WE SLEEP. ACCOMMODATION MAY BE POSSIBLE AND BENEFICIAL TO US. WE WILL DEFINE AND TELL YOU OUR NEEDS AND GATHER ONLY NEARBY TREES FOR NOW."

The sound of monstrously heavy footfalls came from outside. As the sound receded a Tribesman entered the lab and informed everyone that Hairless Bear had walked down the path to join the other Stone-Coats.

"The agreement sounds good to me," remarked Ed.

"Much better than being squashed like bugs," added Mary.

"Pretty open ended and undefined though," said Running Bear.

"Yes, we need to stay alert," agreed Talking Owl. "My bird friends say that the Stone-Coats are returning again."

The five giants soon walked past the lab and up the mountainside, dragging great trees. A contingent of a hundred Tribe warriors followed behind them, led by Red Hawk.

"Where are Chief Talking Bear and the other warriors?" White Cloud asked, when they drew near.

"The village is in chaos," Red Hawk explained. "Singing Moon claims that by not attacking Hairless Bear immediately her own husband is a failed leader. At the same time she is calling for the Tribe to contact the United States Government for their military intervention to destroy the Stone-Coats."

"But she was the one that said that the Stone-Coats are dead!" Ed noted.

"And now that tactic has failed, so she is trying to take advantage of their existence to gain power," said Running Bear. "She is relentless in her scheming. At a time when your Tribe needs unity, she continues to divide."

"Always she has been the rebellious one," said Mouse, who had just emerged from the lab to join them. "As a child she was crushed when telepathy never emerged in her. Since then she has schemed for power. She will not listen to me. She has not done so for many years."

"I should go to the village and speak with her," said Talking Owl.

"It is too late." said Mouse. "I have what Ed would call the good news and the bad news." She handed a printed sheet of paper to White Cloud. "As the Stone-Coats walked past they sent this list of their food needs Via the Bear Claw and Frank printed them out."

"It is a list of substances and associated tonnage," said White cloud, as he glanced over the list. "We will need to study the list, but my initial impression is that it will prove very difficult to provide them everything that they want."

"But it is a huge positive step just to have such a list." said Talking Owl. "It could allow us to advance our peaceful relationship with the Stone-Coats. I assume that was the good news?"

"There is more good news," said Mouse. "I have been in mind-to-mind contact with Talking Bear. He has told me that things have settled down and the warriors are ready to back him as needed."

"That is indeed good news!" said White Cloud.

"And what of my Mother?" Talking Owl asked?

"That's the bad news," said Mouse. "When it became clear that her position was not winnable, she disappeared. We used wolves to trail her. A short while later it was discovered that one of the Tribe snowmobiles is missing, along with her nephew Big Otter, who happens to be an expert snowmobile driver. There is only one conclusion to be reached."

"The new snowdrifts on the road aren't fully plowed yet and cars and trucks can't use it. She must be using the snowmobile to leave the Reservation," said White Cloud.

****

### CHAPTER XIV

### Complications

Dr. Mark Sheffield sat alone in a diner booth, waiting for his contact to arrive as he munched on a cheeseburger. Whatever information the contact had better be good; better anyway than the lousy cheeseburger. This place was a very poor place to meet someone; it had a limited menu and terrible food. Its only redeeming feature was that it was the closest restaurant to the Mohawk Reservation where Running Bear was on assignment.

Before the cheeseburger Sheffield had already been grumpy: it had taken him three and a half hours to drive to the Adirondacks from the Manhattan NSA office, where he was following up on reports of giant mutant alligators and vampire bats nesting in the subways. They were true rumors, unfortunately. Now the city was never sleeping due to nightlife of an unwanted sort. But even a big city full of panicked complaining citizens and mutant bats and alligators was preferable to being where he was now. Here it was thirty degrees colder, the snow was drifting, and more new snow was forecast.

He hated field work, and longed to be back in his nice warm NSA laboratory, supervising the scientists trying to make biological sense of what the hell was going on around the country. Unfortunately since his untimely promotion a year ago, he was also saddled with management duties, including managing his little force of rogue agents that were trying to find Jerry Green before anyone else did.

While his NSA bosses, the FBI and others had it in mind to crudely prosecute and imprison the rogue gene splicer or even kill him; Sheffield had it in mind to secretly recruit him. Jerry had his principles that included distrust of the Government, but the man was living on the run and working out of garages and cheap motels. The prospect of a real lab and virtually unlimited Government-funded resources would bring Jerry Green to heal, Sheffield was convinced. After all, it had done so for him. With Jerry Green on his science staff, there would be no limit to what they could do to save mankind from the evils that were beginning to ravage the planet. Besides, Jerry was the key to understanding and dealing with the jants. Reports were coming in nation-wide that the huge ants gene-spiced into existence by Green were establishing themselves everywhere, with unknown environmental consequences.

But first he had to find Jerry Green, and he had to do it off the books, using several agents that could be personally trusted to bend NSA rules when necessary. One of his best was John Running Bear. The stoic Mohican had one weakness: his unflagging loyalty to the welfare of Native Americans. He and the Mohican had a deal: he would steer the NSA away from Native American communities and affairs, and Running Bear would find Jerry Green, if the bioterrorist was hiding somewhere among Native Americans.

The call from the Mohawk Reservation earlier that day had been a surprise. Running Bear wasn't due to check in for another day, unless something important came up. The most surprising thing about the call was that although it was made using Running Bear's satellite phone, it wasn't made by Running Bear.

"You are Dr. Sheffield, the NSA boss of John Running Bear?" asked the middle aged Native American woman that abruptly appeared at his booth.

"If I am I wouldn't make a public announcement to that effect!" Sheffield retorted quietly, though fortunately the diner was nearly deserted. "You must be Singing Moon?"

The woman retrieved an object from her coat pocket and showed it to Sheffield before returning it to a shirt pocket. It was John's NSA satellite phone. "I am she," she replied, as she took off her heavy winter coat and made herself comfortable by sitting down in the booth opposite Sheffield. "Did you bring me what I requested?"

"It's in the trunk of my car," Sheffield replied," but you need to explain to me what's going on before I'll let you have any of it. For instance why didn't Running Bear call for himself, and why does he need all those explosives?"

"I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but Running Bear seeks to betray the NSA.'

"Really? How so?"

She pulled a second small device from the robe-like clothing she wore. "This is a recording of Running Bear speaking with our Tribe leaders." In the recording she played, Running Bear pledged to two other speakers to keep Tribe secrets from the NSA in exchange for any information on Jerry Green and the jants. They also mentioned that jants were on the Reservation.

That all sounded perfectly reasonable to Sheffield; it was in perfect keeping with his agreements with the man. There was another thing about the Mohican known by Sheffield; he was absurdly honest. The Mohican sometimes omitted facts or stretched word meanings, but other than that, Sheffield trusted his word. Generally speaking, Sheffield and the NSA didn't give a rat's ass about Tribe secrets, and the jants were everywhere now. They wanted Green. He was startled to hear his name mentioned, however. "Where did the Tribe get my name?"

"The squeaky voice in the recording is that of my Mother, who can read the thoughts of others. Running Bear must have thought of you while he was being interrogated. In any case the Mohican plans to keep Tribe secrets from you: secrets that I will report directly to you, if you meet my price."

Mind reading? He had frequently investigated such claims, and they never panned out. Telepathy didn't exist. But what were the Tribe secrets? "What is your price and what will I get for it?"

"Use your Government influence to make me sole Chief of the Tribe. In return you will possess Tribe secrets, secrets that the Tribe has kept for many centuries."

"If the NSA values the secrets high enough, your price can be met. What are the secrets? And why would they interest the NSA?"

"The Stone-Coat Ice Giants wake and attack my people. That is of interest to you because if the Giants are not stopped on the Reservation they will also attack your people."

"Giants?" This woman was truly looney! "Really?"

"The Stone-Coats have slept for centuries, but now they wake. White-man weapons are needed to stop them. Invade the Reservation with your Army and destroy the Stone-Coats forever. You will be a hero among the white men; I will be a hero among my people for saving them and leading them to a new life within your world. Deal?"

She was delusional and perhaps downright crazy. He decided to continue to humor her. In a short time he would drive away from this place and never see her again. Of course he would definitely not give her the explosives intended for Running Bear that were in the trunk of his car. "Deal. But I'll keep the explosives for now. They require experts that know how to use them. I'll send my own men to you and Running Bear with the explosives. Return the satellite phone to Running Bear and I'll give him a direct order to support you."

"Of course," Singing Moon replied. "When will the Army get here?

"By late tomorrow, I estimate." It was as good a lie as any.

"Excellent! I'll be in touch." With that she got up and left.

Sheffield was relieved to see her go; he never felt comfortable around crazy people. , He heard a snowmobile start up outside and pull away. He quickly finished his by now cold cheeseburger and went out to his car. With luck he would be in New York City in a few hours and find some decent food in a real dinner.

"Crap!" he exclaimed. His trunk was empty and the explosives were gone. It was enough explosives to blow up the village of Giants' Rest and kill hundreds of people! He should contact Running Bear about the woman and the explosives, but Running Bear didn't have his encrypted phone, the looney woman did, and Sheffield had very little confidence that she would return it to him. He tried to phone her but nobody answered.

So now what? There were no additional NSA agents that he could trust nearby, and he certainly wasn't about to acquire a snowmobile himself and go onto the Reservation. It would be dark soon and he didn't know how to drive a snowmobile or even where to get one. This operation was off the books. Calling the police or the FBI was totally out of the question. No, Running Bear would have to handle this. The Mohican was to report in tomorrow and no doubt he would find a way to do so, if he was still alive tomorrow. What if the Mohican didn't call? He would figure that out tomorrow only if he had too.

****

"This list of substances that the Stone-Coats want is impossible!" complained White Cloud the next morning as the science and leadership teams met in the lab. "They want many tons of carbon, and that's not a problem. Dozens of the Stone-Coats are hard at work right now getting plenty of trees containing tons of carbon, but they aren't getting enough metals, metalloids and some other requested elements."

"What about that landfill I passed along the entrance road?" asked Running Bear.

"That's a good idea!" exclaimed White Cloud. "We have a several tons of recycle materials piling up there that probably contain many of the elements that the Stone-Coats want. That would get us started, but we'll need much more."

"There are plenty of other landfills and junkyards throughout the state," noted Chief Talking Bear. "We have men that can drive trash and dump trucks, but getting the trucks and scrap will require a lot of money. We can come up with a few thousand dollars at most."

"The Tribe never had much cash or credit," lamented Mouse.

"The Stone-Coats have diamond scales by the ton," pointed out Running Bear. "Even just the Bear Claw is worth many millions of dollars in terms of minerals."

"A scale would be much too big; a prune or fist-sized diamond would draw far too much attention," said Jack. "Feed the Claw some wood and tell it what we need. Maybe the Claw can provide us some much smaller stones that we could sell in the Albany area, then rent trucks and buy scrap there that can be driven to the Reservation."

Using their computer-link to Bear Claw they expressed their need for small diamonds to the Stone-Coats and placed several pounds of charcoal around the Claw. "Make sure that the diamonds are pure," Jack emphasized. "Any imbedded graphite electrical connections or logic gates might be detected and lead to unwanted inquiries."

Soon they had several pounds of raw diamonds that were pea-sized or smaller. A snowplow led convoy left the Reservation late in the morning, bound for the Albany area and a rich bounty of scrap materials. Jack, Mary and White Cloud led a team of truck drivers towards Albany while a truck-load of scrap from the local Tribe landfill headed back to Giant's Rest. An army of Tribe members with shovels manually cleared a path for the anticipated scrap trucks through Giants' Rest and halfway up the path to the Great Lodge, until huge boulders blocked them.

At the Great Lodge and all around the Mountain Chief Talking Bear managed the Tribe warriors that watched as dozens and then hundreds of Stone-Coats foraged for trees that they cut down with diamond teeth and then carried up the Mountain. Most closely resembled Hairless Bear, but some took other shapes, including a few that resembled great-tusked hairy elephants that could carry tree-trunks using their tusks and trunks, or giant crabs that carried trees in their claws and on their backs. The Mohawk were careful to keep out of their way, and the Stone-Coats ignored the humans, except for a few of the smaller Stone-Coats that stood and watched human activity instead of gathering food.

Chief Mike spent his time searching for his missing wife, mostly in Giants' Rest.

Inside the lab, Doc, Ed, Taking Owl, and Frank continued their efforts to communicate with and understand the Stone-Coats.

"No doubt about it," said Ed, "they are watching us as closely as we are watching them."

"Closer," said Frank. "They are definitely tapped into our Wi-Fi and from the usage stats I can see that they are surfing the internet big-time. They may be figuring us out but we can't hack into their side."

"Why not?" Ed asked. "If they are essentially walking computers that are connected somehow to your computer and to each other, shouldn't it be possible to hack your way into them?"

"Maybe in theory," said Frank. "But you can't readily hack into a system that you know nothing about. Their system architectures and communication protocols are totally unknown to us, and those dudes have probably been studying ours for years or maybe decades."

"Well we certainly don't have decades," said Doc. "At this rate they're going to deplete nearby forests and woodpiles within a few days. At that point yummy people and lodges might look more tempting to them."

"I worry that we have not shown them any of our strength," said Ed. "They might get over-confident. In human history there have been many instances when appeasement of potential adversaries has resulted in total capitulation or in unwanted conflict."

"And we still don't know what they know or don't know." added Doc. "They could greatly underestimate human military strength, if all they see is a few armed Mohawk tribesmen. A mere couple thousand actual military men with flame-throwers could probably stop them all in their tracks, and they could then easily be blown to bits using high explosives, or whatever. The military would gather the bits of them that are left and study them in top-secret labs to learn how they control minerals and so-forth."

"Do they appreciate what a terrific break the Tribe is giving them?" Ed wondered. "They could have been greeted by the US Army instead of the Tribe, and been blown to bits."

"Don't attribute such complex emotions to them," said Doc. "Something like 'appreciation' may be beyond them."

"Good point," said Talking Owl. "We sense only vague feelings from them and computer-like logic, and nothing in-between. They may not even be aware themselves of their own feelings, or they may think that those are insignificant. It must have been very difficult for them to learn to communicate with us."

"Or to figure out what an emotion tainted word like 'difficult' means," said Doc. "But neglecting emotions, what do they understand of the physical conditions they will face over the next centuries? Do they understand that climate change towards coldness is very local and according to models is likely to be relatively ephemeral? It won't last long enough here to form glaciers, and there probably won't be a solid return to widespread global glaciation for tens of thousands of years."

"Perhaps we should educate them," said Ed.

"That would have to be via our computer link with them," said Doc. "I've shouted things at them as they walk by and they completely ignore me. I suspect that they may be deaf, at least as far as sound carried in the air is concerned. That might make sense for beings that live mostly inside of rock and communicate electronically."

"They are deaf also to our more coherent psychic thoughts," noted Talking Owl. "Turtle Man would have appreciated the irony. For centuries we Mohawk have sought to better communicate with them psychically when they are actually deaf to our cogent telepathic thoughts."

"The Tribe should have sought out computer nerds like Frank instead of telepathic folks like me," said Ed.

"I have software on my computer that converts voices to digitized words," said Frank. "That could improve our communications with them."

"Turn it on and let's try it," said Talking Owl.

"Ha!" Frank exclaimed. "I see that it's already turned on! But I didn't turn it on!"

The team exchanged nervous glances.

"Crap!" Ed exclaimed. "The Stone-Coats turned it on! Does that mean what I think it means?"

"They may have already been eavesdropping on our verbal conversations here in the lab!" said Doc.

"Or maybe anywhere we have an activated computer with an internal transceiver that acts as a microphone," added Frank.

"That could be a good thing," said Ed. "The better they understand us, the better chance we have to work with them."

"Spoken like a wide-eyed, naive, the-cup-is-half-full liberal that doesn't believe in evil, but you could be right," said Doc.

"How do we know if they're listening to us?" Talking Owl wondered.

"Let's ask them!" said Doc. "Stone-Coats, please indicate on the screen if you can hear and understand our spoken words."

"WE HEAR YOU," came the immediate reply on the laptop screen.

"Do you understand us?" asked Ed.

"MUCH WE UNDERSTAND; SOME WE DO NOT."

"This is monumental! We should have all of the Tribe leadership here to help us talk with them," said Ed.

"And the clever Mohican too," said Doc. "I hope he gets back here very soon. In the meantime let's entertain them with some Global Warming basics."

****

### CHAPTER XV

### Peace Maker

John Running Bear searched the tent one more time, but still couldn't find his cryptographic NSA satellite radio phone. Someone had to have taken it. Who and why? If he didn't contact Sheffield soon, the standard NSA protocol would be to send another agent to his last reported position. Even if they only got as close as the front gate, unusual activity could be detected. As far away as the town of Giants' Rest the ponderous Stone-Coat activities could be clearly heard, and possibly by using high powered binoculars the huge creatures could even be seen moving about on the distant Mountain.

If agents got actually onto the Reservation it would be worse. Here at his last reported position, the site where Hairless Bear woke, dozens of monstrous Stone-Coats were busily clearing away the last of the forests. Hundred foot Stone-Coats were chewing down trees and dragging them away. What would another NSA agent make of such a sight? Would they call up the National Guard or other armed forces? Yes; they surely would! The Reservation would be quarantined and commandeered in the name of national security. It would be the end of the Tribe.

He had to get to an internet connection soon and use his back-up communications approach. The computers in the Great Lodge could be used in privacy. Dodging through foraging Stone-Coats he made his way quickly to the Great Lodge, where he was surprised to find Mouse wandering from room to room, poking around and looking for something under rugs and beds.

"There are Jants here someplace, I can sense them," she told him. "They shelter in our lodges and remain active in the warmth that we provide them. They are even in the lab! They are not with us in great numbers and mostly they stay out of sight and are telepathically quiet to avoid detection while they merely listen to our thoughts, but occasionally they jabber among themselves and to their colonies."

"What will you do if you find them, Old Mother? Are we not already busy enough dealing with the Stone-Coats?"

The little woman shrugged. "I wish to confront them mind-to-mind but you are right; I have better things to do right now. Why are you here?"

"Someone stole my NSA phone. I need the internet."

"Could your phone be operated by anyone? No passwords or anything required? And did it contain the phone number of your NSA boss, Mark Sheffield?"

"You know that what you ask is all true, Old Mother. I hate passwords. I hate computers and technology altogether and use only what I must use."

"I like you more and more, Running Bear. I fear that Singing Moon may have called the NSA and they might be on their way here now. No, I see by your thoughts that they may already be here! But perhaps not?"

"Perhaps. I urgently need access to a computer or smart-phone with internet, Old Mother."

"Certainly." She quickly led him to a nearby room in the lodge that had a desk and computer. The computer was an old desk-top model with an ancient CRT display. "This is the computer of Red Hawk, your friend in the Guard. Fortunately, like you he is mildly telepathic, so I know his password." She turned on the computer and entered the password before inviting John to sit at the desk. "It has been a cloudy day. You have maybe ten to fifteen minutes of battery power, John."

"You might as well stay here and listen in on our conversation, Old Mother," Running Bear told her, when she started to leave the room. "That will be easier for you. You will of course be monitoring my thoughts anyway." He pulled a chair closer to the desk and gestured her into it.

"Of course, John; thank you."

John attached a thumb-drive sized device to the computer and in a few minutes was rewarded by the voice of Mark Sheffield, loud enough for both he and Old Mother to hear. "I was becoming concerned, Running Bear."

"My satellite phone was stolen by someone. I suspect a woman named Singing Moon." He turned off the CRT display to conserve power.

"Yes; she had me meet her late yesterday at a diner located just off the Reservation," confirmed Sheffield. "She said that you sent her to me. Is that true?"

"No. It is unlikely that she told you very much that is true. I apologize for the inconvenience, Sir. She is a disturbed woman."

"She said that you and the Mohawk are being attacked by stone giants. Is that part true?"

"Certainly not. There was a disturbance on the Reservation, but it was largely of her own making."

"That's what I thought. She wanted the Army to be sent in to destroy stone giants."

"A ridiculous notion! I hope that you ignored her, Sir. There is some nasty politics and mental instability going on here at the Reservation, but nothing that can't be handled internally to the Tribe."

"I humored her and left her with the impression that I was sending in the Army, but of course I needed conformation from you or someone else NSA before doing that anyway."

"This is an off-the-grid internal Native American affair, Sir. If the Army is ever truly needed for national security reasons you'll of course hear from me directly."

"Good. Still no sign of Green?"

"None. I am certain now that he is not on the Reservation and feel it highly unlikely that the Rumsfelds know where he is. I'd like to stay a few more days here to confirm that, get my phone back, and help wrap up the Singing Moon mess, if I can."

"Yes, definitely do that, Running Bear, but I'm afraid there is a serious complication. She or someone with her stole a hundred pounds of high explosive devices from the trunk of my car while I was in the diner. I had them because she told me that you requested them when she first contacted me, but her story didn't ring true after talking with her further."

"That's a very big complication, Sir."

"It's in the form of a dozen packages with timers; enough explosives to blow up half of Giants' Rest."

"MX-5 devices?"

"Yes. Do you think she will confine use of the explosives to the Reservation, Running Bear?"

"Definitely. I will see to it that they are retrieved and their origin is guarded."

"Excellent! I look forward to receiving conformation of that from you very soon. Should I send in more men to help?"

"No Sir; I can better handle things here myself under the radar, with Tribe help and without further NSA involvement."

"I was hoping you'd say that," said Sheffield. "Keep in touch."

Mouse turned the computer off. "Tribespeople without any telepathic skills have always been my biggest worry. I can't read their thoughts."

"You can't sense Singing Moon's thoughts?"

"Not telepathically or any other way.

"Many folks get along pretty good without telepathically reading the thoughts of others. I decided to trust in you, Old Mother, and to tolerate your intrusions into my thoughts, honest Indian that I am. I am sure that many others of your Tribe also do so. But maybe it's even harder to be distrusted. Maybe it's harder to not meet the expectations of your tribe and mother."

He was talking about himself and his own guilt, she knew, as well as Singing Moon. "Don't make excuses for her; with strength of character such difficulties can and should be overcome. I fear for her, Running Bear, and I fear for us all. Sky-Holder protect us! She has explosives!"

Running Bear was disturbed to see a tear run down the old woman's cheek. She was the Tribe leader that more than anyone else kept the Tribe together.

"You have very weak telepathic skills, Running Bear, enough for me to read some of your thoughts but not enough for you to even notice me intruding. However you have other great skills that I apparently lack. For example I noticed that everything you told Sheffield was truthful, but you were able to hold back crucial facts and steer things completely your way. You seem to be able to size up people and their thoughts very well, Running Bear, even without telepathy. Help us, Running Bear, if you can. And help save her!"

"I will try to stop her from using the explosives, Old Mother.'

A gigantic explosion shook the air, ground and Lodge. Books and dishes tumbled from shelves to the carpeted floor. As dreadful as the sound was, it was not as disturbing as the mournful cry from Mouse that followed, and the look of horror on her old wrinkled face. A cascade of what sounded like giant hailstones struck the Lodge; several rocks of football size crashed through the thick bark layers and dropped to the rug-covered Lodge floor after opening gaps to a grey clouded sky.

Old Mouse made to rise from her chair but fell back down again quietly sobbing. She suddenly seemed shockingly old, frail, and helpless.

"Stay here and rest, Old Mother," implored Running Bear, as he grasped one of her small hands in his. "Follow my thoughts, and I will be your eyes and ears and strength."

Running Bear put on the coat he carried as he ran towards the Great Dome, which had the nearest outside exit. He fumbled clumsily with the coat buttons though, and his legs seemed strangely heavy and far too slow. What the hells had Singing Moon done? The woman seemed to hate everything and everyone, including even her own mother and daughter! By the Gods, what if she blew up the lab? That's where he had left Talking Owl!

In the big domed room Running Bear encountered a dozen children huddled with two women, all of them confused and frightened. "Are the Stone-Coats coming, Mohican?" one of the women asked him.

"I don't know," he replied. "Old Mother is alone in the lodging place of Red Hawk. She is badly shaken up; please go to her and keep her safe. There may soon be other explosions and war with the Stone-Coats."

Bursting out through the main Dome entranceway, the Mohican was relieved to see that on the opposite side of the amphitheater the lab stood undamaged. Using his binoculars, he was even more relieved to see Talking Owl standing among the team that had come out of the lab to see what was happening.

On the rim of the amphitheater that the Stone-Coats used as their key pathway up the Mountain was a great smoking gap: a twenty-foot across crater had been blasted deep into rock by NSA explosives, blocking the rim-top pathway that the Stone-Coats had been using. As Running Bear dashed towards Talking Owl several nearby Stone-Coats put down the trees that they carried, walked to the smoking crater, and inspected it.

Red Hawk and two of his men reached Talking Owl and the others near the lab at the same moment that Running Bear did. "It was Singing Moon!" he exclaimed, "and her nephew Big Otter was driving the snowmobile they rode in. They dropped a small package on the Stone-Coat path and fled by snowmobile. After only half a minute or so the package blew up before we could get to it, blasting one Stone-Coat to bits. Where did she get such powerful explosives?"

"She stole my NSA radio and went off the Reservation to get explosives from the NSA," said Running Bear. "Nobody else was hurt?"

"Only the one Stone-Coat. It was one of the big ones; Hairless-Bear or one like it. There are chunks of Stone-Coat scattered all around the crater."

"Look! The others gather up pieces of it!" exclaimed one of Red Hawk's men. Sure enough, a dozen Stone-Coats of various sizes ringed the still smoking crater and were busily gathering glimmering rocks that had to be the remains of the ill-fated Stone-Coat. They stacked them together in the amphitheater near the crater, tons of shattered Stone-Coat chunks. Then strangely enough, they laid several big tree branches over the pile of Stone-Coat remains. A Stone-Coat that carried an old pickup truck under one arm placed it atop the pile.

"That's a wreck from our local landfill," noted Red Hawk.

"They've gotten their first taste of scrap and seem to like it," said Running Bear. "They probably have difficulty computing that we blow them up at the same time we feed them."

Meanwhile Stone-Coat movement up and down the path stopped. A dozen of them dragging great trees and carrying landfill scrap stood in line on the path below the amphitheater, and another dozen empty-handed giants stood waiting up-hill of the crater.

"Their path to the Mountain is blocked. They're trying to figure out their next move," Ed conjectured. "I can sense a great deal of chatter between them. I don't like the way they are looking at the Great Lodge. An alternative pathway through the Great Lodge to the Mountain would be convenient for them."

"I don't quite buy that," said Running Bear. "For creatures that can climb the Mountain carrying trees, that crater is a mere bump in the road. They could easily walk around or through the crater. No, they're figuring out what to do about the humans that just blew up a Stone-Coat."

"I don't think I want to be anywhere near here once they figure out how to get back at us!" said Doc. "They're computers so I don't understand why it's taking them so long to decide on a response. Maybe the fact that they're getting our scrap metal now is helping. In any case we can take advantage of their delay. I'll get back to Frank and the Claw in the lab and over the link we'll try to argue for peace. "

As Doc returned to the lab the sound of an approaching snowmobile diverted the attentions of Ed, Talking Owl, and Running Bear. It was Singing Moon, riding in back of her nephew Big Otter on the missing snowmobile. They stopped midway between the gathered Stone-Coats and the gathered on-looking humans and turned off the noisy machine. As Singing Moon stood up on the snowmobile and faced the gathered Stone-Coats, Big Otter grabbed something football-sized from a box that was tied to the back of the snowmobile. It was a pack of NSA explosives, John realized! It was awkwardly heavy, about eight pounds, but Big Otter was strong enough to lob it at either the gathered Stone-Coats or humans.

"Return to the Mountain, monsters! Our Army comes soon to destroy you!" Singing Moon shouted at the Stone-Coats. Most of them ignored her, but one of the big ones swiveled its head to regard her with red glowing eyes.

"No they don't!" shouted Running Bear, as he trudged through the snow towards Singing Moon. "I just spoke with Sheffield! The Army and the NSA are not coming."

"Stupid Mohican!" Singing Moon turned and screamed in rage, as next to her Big Otter cocked his arm to throw the pack of explosives at the gathered Stone-Coats.

There was a whooshing sound as hundreds of pounds of ice-laced water shot from the mouth of the big watching Stone-Coat and struck Big Otter and Singing Moon, knocking them both off of the snowmobile. The pack of explosives fell into the snow beside them.

The watching humans realized that it would likely explode in seconds. "Mother!" Talking Owl screamed, as Ed and Red Hawk grabbed her by the arms and pulled her away towards the lab despite her protests.

Running Bear dashed in the opposite direction towards the snowmobile, dove and grabbed the fallen pack of explosives, and threw it as hard as he could off the rim of the amphitheater and away from it, away from everyone human and Stone-Coat alike. The explosion moments later was as massive as the first one, but this time most of the force of the blast was directed by the rim of the amphitheater away from the Lodge, lab, humans and Stone-Coats. When the smoke began to clear, onlookers human and Stone-Coat alike watched as Running Bear walked to the snowmobile, hoisted the box of remaining explosives onto his shoulder, and carefully carried it to the rim of the new smoking crater. There he made a big show of throwing the ten remaining explosive packets one-by one into the crater. He then threw and kicked snow and rocks into the crater.

"Let's help him make a big show of getting rid of the nasty bombs," said Red Hawk. He and a half dozen other warriors soon joined Running Bear in throwing rocks and snow into the new crater. Their symbolic efforts did little to actually fill the crater and cover the bombs, but they were soon joined by several gigantic Stone-Coats that quickly tossed tons of massive boulders into the hole. That they managed to do so without squashing any Tribe members was greatly appreciated.

Running Bear then again surprised both Tribe members and Stone-Coats by walking to the first crater and throwing rocks into it also. He was quickly joined by Red Hawk and his troop of Tribesmen. "If you find pieces of the blown-up Stone-Coat, make a big show of putting them reverently onto the pile that they already started," said Running Bear. Indeed the area around the first crater was littered with small crystal chunks that had to have been part of the Stone-Coat. The gathered Stone-Coats watched with interest as the humans added hundreds of pounds of crystals to the pile of broken Stone-Coat chunks. The chunks, the wrecked pickup truck, and the trees were beginning to melt together, the humans noticed. Vague arms, legs, head and torso were soon visible. Though blown to pieces, the Stone-Coat hadn't been killed, and was now reassembling itself!

The Stone-Coats focused on filling the crater that blocked their pathway up the Mountain. In minutes tons of boulders filled most of it, and the pathway up the Mountain was fully restored. The Stone-Coat/human truce was also fully restored, Running Bear hoped. He was encouraged when the Stone-Coats resumed their normal activity: the Earth shook as dozens of them again marched up and down the Mountain.

The crisis was over!

Meanwhile Talking Owl, Ed, and additional braves tended to Singing Moon and Big Otter. Both were shaken up and chilled by ice cold drenching they got from the Stone-Coat but not seriously hurt, and were soon warming up in the lab while under close guard by Red Hawk and his men. Talking Owl wouldn't leave her cold dazed mother, and insisted on holding her tightly.

Doc joined the lab gathering. "The Stone-Coats were apparently very confused by our actions but are now back to being content and cooperative," he told the everyone. "We were lucky."

"Luck didn't have much to do with it," Ed countered. "The efforts of a lot of brave people did it, especially Running Bear."

There were grunted affirmations from around the room.

"Not a big deal for a Mohican," Running Bear said. "We do this hero sort of stuff all the time, especially when beautiful princesses are involved." He was staring at Talking Owl, and she was staring back.

"What the hells is going on here?" Chief Mike Talking Bear asked, when he abruptly burst into lab with Mary, Jack, and White Cloud in tow. "We heard two huge explosions. What got blown up?"

Red Hawk and Ed recounted events as they knew them as the Chief hugged his wife and daughter.

"Moon, why would you do such a thing?" he asked his wife.

"I want an end to the Stone-Coat burden on the Tribe and my family. I want us to live like other people."

"But we are not like other people!" Talking Bear insisted.

"I am!" she countered.

Talking Bear looked at her like he didn't know what she was talking about. "Oh!" he suddenly realized. "No telepathy? Is that what you mean? That never bothered me; you're smart and strong, and gave me a wonderful daughter. And you fight for what you think is right for the Tribe as fiercely as anyone! But you don't have to worry about the Tribe anymore. After selling only a tenth of the Stone-Coat diamonds in Albany, Schenectady, and Troy, we have plenty of cash for food and any white-man things we need. The future of the Tribe here is secured for many generations to come! In the spring when the Stone-Coats again sleep why don't we go on a world-wide vacation together? There are more important things than telepathy."

"I didn't have telepathy until a jant bit me," noted Ed. "Maybe they could bite you too. Then you might be able to exchange thoughts with jants, anyway."

"I would not be opposed to such a thing," said Mouse, who Mouse-like had suddenly appeared among them.

"NOR WOULD WE," agreed the jants, with thoughts echoing from a dozen Reservation colonies. "SHE COULD ACT AS OUR INTERFACE WITH THE TRIBE."

Nor was Singing Moon opposed, when it was further explained to her that her position as Tribe ambassador to the jants would be an important one. She didn't even object when several jants emerged from behind a cabinet and one of them walked to her waiting hand and bit her on the offered fingertip.

A few minutes later she smiled as she began to exchange thoughts with the jants.

"So this is what telepathy is like! Their thoughts are not simple ones, like those you have described of your birds and other creatures," she exclaimed to Talking Owl. "The jants are highly intelligent!"

"That is why talking with them is so important, Daughter," said Mouse. "Ask them what they want of the Tribe."

"The jants want us to feed and keep some of them warm in the winters, and to maintain an interface with the Stone-Coats while keeping jants and the Stone-Coats hidden from other humans," Singing Moon soon explained.

"Sounds like a plan," said Ed.

"But right now we have to still focus on the Stone-Coats," said Chief Mike.

"I for one wonder what is happening up on the Mountain," said Running Bear. "I'd like to see for myself. Anyone here want to do a little winter Mountain climbing?"

"I'm already far higher on this Mountain than I want to be," said Ed.

"I will go with you," said White Cloud. "I know the easiest routes up and can help you with your cameras. Besides, I have some things to discuss with you anyway."

"Yes, and Tribe leadership has several things to discuss with you both when you return," said Mouse. "And with others," she added, as she shot a sharp glance towards Talking Owl.

The two men set off together carrying cameras and climbing gear. Mouse, Singing Moon, Talking Bear, and Talking Owl set off together for the Great Lodge. The Tribe token whites and Frank remained at the lab, where they reaffirmed agreements with the Stone-Coats.

Six hours later after sunset the two climbers returned with hundreds of photos and everyone reconvened in the lab. "There are many thousands of the Stone-Coats emerging from the Mountain and absorbing everything that is brought to them," began White Cloud.

Photos and video clips were displayed for everyone to see. The entire peak of the mountain was a great swarming mass of countless Stone-Coats, ranging from human size to ten-times as massive as Hairless Bear. Most were nearly formless, like worms or blobs. They absorbed granite, trees, and scrap as fast as it was made available to them.

"We should probably mention that they are significantly radioactive," said Running Bear. "Our Geiger counter readings indicate that Tribe members aren't in much danger from the scattered individuals that are foraging for resources off the Mountain, but the concentrated hordes on the Mountain itself are another matter. The surrounding Mountain protects your Village, but anyone making repeated visits to the Mountain should wear protective gear and limit their visit times."

"That is in keeping with our oldest legends of dangerous evil on the Mountain and our efforts to limit Mountain access," noted Mouse.

"The tribe was right to not make the Mountain a ski resort," noted Ed. "What exactly is the source of the radiation?"

"The Stone-Coats may have used their abilities to manipulate materials to detect and concentrate the radioactive isotopes of several types of atoms," said Doc. "Uranium? Thorium? Potassium? We don't know yet. There are dozens of naturally radioactive substances that they could be using which are commonly found in nature. Some life forms concentrate the materials involved. Bananas for example concentrate potassium, and the potassium-40 isotope slowly decays and could be used as a long-term power source."

"The Stone-Coat giants might be powered by radioactive bananas?" Ed had to ask. It was an irresistibly intriguing notion.

"Unlikely," said White Cloud. "The feldspars found in granite are a far more likely potassium source for them. Perhaps they mine radioactive materials by extending root-like nanotubes deep into the Earth's crust."

"Will they invade our lands?" asked Mouse.

"We don't think so," said Running Bear. "The entire center of the Mountain seems to consist of Stone-Coats, but most of them wake, eat their fill, and then immediately rejoin the Mountain. I believe they are feeding to prepare for another long period of hibernation." They watched video-clips of several Stone-Coats waking, feeding, and then returning to sleep as part of Giants' Rest Mountain.

"YES," said the computer screen. "WE WILL REST AND GROW UNTIL IT IS COLD ENOUGH ACROSS THE EARTH FOR US TO MOVE AGAIN. YOUR SCIENCE SAYS THAT WILL HAPPEN IN ONLY TEN OR TWENTY THOUSAND YEARS. FOR US THAT IS A SHORT TIME."

"Humans will never rest," noted Mouse. "Humans will seek to thrive even through the cold periods."

"IF HUMANS STILL SURVIVE WHEN WE AGAIN AWAKEN WE WILL NEED TO AGAIN DECIDE WHAT TO DO. UNTIL THEN IT IS TO OUR BENEFIT THAT WE MAINTAIN OUR LINK WITH HUMANS THROUGH YOUR TRIBE, BUT REMAIN HIDDEN FROM OTHER HUMANS."

"You want us to maintain our computer link with you for ten or twenty thousand years?" Doc asked.

"YES. OUR BODY UNITS LACK MOTION IN WARM TIMES, BUT WE DO NOT FULLY SLEEP; OUR THINKING PARTS GROW AND LEARN AT ALL TIMES. WE LEARN MUCH FROM YOUR INTERNET, INCLUDING YOUR SCIENCE. BUT MUCH WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND AND WE WANT TO LEARN MUCH MORE."

"There is much we do not understand about you," said Running Bear. "We will help you if you help us. If we know each other better we will be less likely to make mistakes."

"SUCH AS THE BOMBING. WE ACT AS ONE. HUMANS OFTEN ACT AS INDIVIDUALS AND MAY HAVE CONFLICTING INTENTIONS. IT IS A DIFFICULT THING FOR US TO UNDERSTAND."

"Yes," said Running Bear. "We want to avoid such mistakes as the bombing."

"THIS IS A SOUND BASIS FOR CONTINUING PEACE AND COOPERATION. WE AGREE TO THIS."

"Yes," said Mouse, and there were affirmative nods from the other Tribe Leaders. "The Tribe agrees also."

There were happy smiles and exclamations among the humans.

"Hurrah!" exclaimed Ed. "Now maybe we can get some sleep. A nice straw Lodge bed would be wonderful. Ten thousand years of rest isn't required; eight or ten hours will be perfect. On second thought make it eleven or twelve hours, since it will be with Mary. Then if I still have any energy left I'd like to work on a history class curriculum."

"Sounds like a plan, teacher," said Jack. "White Cloud has some ideas for Tribe infrastructure improvements using some diamond money that he wants me to help him with. Doc and Frank will continue to man the lab here until a new generation of Tribe scientists emerges; I don't think we could get them out of the lab if we tried."

Jack, Ed, and Mary left the lab and started their hike for the Lodge, followed closely by Singing Moon and Talking Owl. Running Bear started to follow them. He stepped into the little porch where coats and winter footwear were kept and quickly slipped his on, but when he stepped towards the outer door Mouse suddenly came in from outside and blocked his way.

"Your mission here is complete, Mohican," she said.

"So it seems, Old Mother," he replied, as two others also stepped from outside into the tiny room.

"You can leave our little lost Tribe and go back to your NSA and your National Congress of American Indians," said Talking Bear.

"But you have certain other ambitions also," said White Cloud. "We talked about them when we hiked up the Mountain together."

"And you explained to me that although reluctant you would not oppose them, but the Tribe would."

"I shared your delicate problem with Old Mother telepathically and she has come up with a possible solution, if you are interested," White Cloud continued.

"Specifically, a job for you has opened up in the Tribe," said Chief Talking Bear, "if you are interested."

"Here in this cold little porch remote from the Claw we will not be overheard by the Stone-Coats or the jants, so we can speak of it freely," explained Mouse.

"What sort of job?" Running Bear asked.

"Chief Peace Maker," said Talking Bear. "Hiawatha held the position centuries ago but since then there have been no satisfactory heroes available to properly fill the job. Tell me this, Mohican, what do you think of our agreements with the Stone-Coats and the jants?"

"They are good, but maybe too good to be true. They are probably the best agreements that could be made at the time but they are also naively optimistic. I nearly broke into singing Kumbaya. Both the Stone-Coats and the jants need to be watched closely. We don't understand the thoughts or motives of either of them. Trust but verify is the approach that needs to continue. There will be a need for continuing negotiations with them."

"That is the job we wish you to fill," said Mouse.

"I think I can make it a Government Civil Service position like your NSA job," said Talking Bear. "Your years of service should transfer so that you won't even lose any time put in towards pension benefits. But there is a string attached; a difficult requirement that must be fulfilled as a condition of employment. You must first marry a Princess."

"And become an honorary Tribe member and through marriage a member of the new Tribe clan that the Princess will lead: the Owl Clan," added Mouse, once Running Bear started breathing again. "You must also help her carry out her duties as Religious Chief."

"And both she and her cranky mother must agree to all of this," said Talking Bear. "The father already does."

"But we think that they will both agree if you catch them at the right moment," added Mouse.

"Such as right away," added White Cloud, as he shoved Running Bear out the door.

"Run, Mohican!" added Mouse, laughing.

A dazed John Running Bear caught up with the Mohawk Princess at the center of the amphitheater. She was alone, and she was smiling and ran to meet him with open arms and soft lips. "Yes!" she shouted before soundly hugging and kissing him.

"Yes to exactly what?" he asked, a very short time later.

"To everything, silly. I overheard the conspiracy unfold at the lab. Perhaps the Stone-Coats and jants couldn't, but I have certain talents that they lack."

"And Mother?" Singing Moon was out of sight and in the Great Lodge.

"I already explained to her that I love you and she accepts that. I think she sort of likes you. You did save her life, you know."

"I'll have to work closely with her on jant issues."

"That's the breaks, John; no job is perfect. But I can promise you there will be fringe benefits."

"True enough! According to your father, there might be a good pension involved."

They laughed and kissed again.

****

### CHAPTER XVI

### What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

From the rim of the amphitheater, two Stone-Coats with infra-red vision watched the humans embrace. They didn't have telepathy or a sense of hearing, but their eyes were greatly enlarged and their infrared vision was excellent. What the embrace signified, they didn't know, but they passed their observations on to the rest of the local Stone-Coat Enclave within Giants' Rest Mountain. A thousand Stone-Coat parallel-processing entities of the Enclave considered the observations and decided that to a high degree of probability the observed human behavior was related to a characteristic of warm-life creatures called sex, which was related to something called genetics, which was basic to the survival and evolution of most water/carbon-based warm-life.

Through the interface recently established with the jants, confirmation was sought. The interface was awkward and inefficient, but a slow data rate was reliably supported. They translated their questions into digitized human words which were displayed on a computer display to waiting jants that could recognize the human-designed symbols. These observations were combined by the jant hive minds into complete human words and finally into understandable jant thoughts.

The question was considered by the jants. Resulting jant thoughts were entered symbol by symbol via an old Lodge keyboard driven by jants, into digitized human words that the Stone-Coats could read. "Yes," the jants confirmed, "sex intended to accomplish gene exchange and species reproduction is the likely explanation for the observed human-to-human interaction. It also relates to the strange fact that unlike jants and Stone-Coats, humans act as individuals and pairs, and only much less effectively in larger groups. This can be used against them." It took several minutes but the Stone-Coat understanding of humans increased incrementally.

The jant/Stone-Coat relationship was based on sound logic, both parties agreed. They complemented each other well, as each lifeform had different strengths and weaknesses, they were not in direct competition with each other, and they shared a mutual problem: humans.

Most important to the Stone-Coats, the jants were even less tolerant of cold than the humans. Unlike the humans, they would not compete with Stone-Coats when the cold times came. In cold times the jants would be content to withdraw to remaining pockets of warm areas where they could preserve adequate numbers of their species. The death of most jants would be perfectly acceptable. At that time, however, they would come into intense competition with surviving humans. Then, or at some time before then, the humans would have to be dealt with, and they should be weakened before that.

Of similar importance to the jants, unlike the humans, the Stone-Coats would not compete with the jants in warm times. However in both warm times and cold, the Stone-Coats had great computer-like digital capability and the ability to tap into human computer systems. Stone-Coats could also function in cold environments that the jants could not tolerate.

The jants had great biological brain capacity and the ability to spy on humans that they bit when in warm environments. Jants had telepathic ability and an in depth understanding of the warm-creature humans that the Stone-Coats lacked.

Then the Stone-Coat was blasted to bits by the Tribe humans the Stone-Coat inclination was to immediately attack and eat the Tribe humans and their lodges, as they had done several times before in past centuries and millennia. However, the Stone-Coat Enclave deduced that jant input on major issues involving humans could be valuable. So before attacking, jant advice was sought.

It took several minutes for enough jants to be aroused to formulate a response. During the delay, subsequent actions by the Tribe humans indicated that the humans also wanted to avert immediate warfare. Soon thereafter the jants advised the Stone-Coats that war against the human Tribe now would be a mistake, since in response the non-Tribe humans would surely use their armies to destroy the Stone-Coats. Like the jants, the Stone-Coats were currently too few and weak to openly attack the human race. These were valuable insights indeed, and the jant advice was heeded by the Stone-Coats. War with the humans was very likely to happen, but not yet.

When the time came to either subjugate or completely dispose of the humans, jants and Stone-Coats each had a much better chance of being successful if they were both strong and they worked together. Essentially immortal, both jants and Stone-Coats were in no hurry to dispose of the humans. They would wait until the time was ripe to achieve certain victory. They would watch carefully for such a time to arise. Meanwhile the interface that the Tribe humans promised to maintain would nicely support a continuing jant/Stone-Coat alliance, along with the study of humans and their science and weaknesses. Jants and Stone-Coats would strengthen themselves and weaken the humans before openly striking.

****

Ed and his Indian Princess Mary were happily established on the Reservation at last! With their help the immediate crisis of the waking Stone-Coat Ice Giants was solved without loss of human or Stone-Coat lives, and without Federal Government intrusion.

Running Bear transferred within the Federal Government from the NSA to the Tribe administrative staff, and henceforth focused on his wife Talking Owl, Stone-Coats and jants, and other Tribe matters.

After only a few weeks of activity all of the Stone-Coats were returning to their Mountain for a very long nap. One more load of scrap appliances from Schenectady and their feeding would be complete. Damage to woodlands was severe, and the Tribe was planning to replant trees in the spring to regrow what had been carried off by the Stone-Coats. It would hopefully be many centuries before the strange creatures again awoke, but when they did they would again find giant trees on which to feed.

Jack and Doc continued their research into the past of the Tribe and the Stone-Coats, aided by a growing staff of young perspective Tribe scientists. They continued to hope that someday they would be able to publish their findings to the wider world.

The bears returned to their hibernation dens, most raptors at last migrated south, and wolves returned to the Mountain foothills and could frequently be seen visiting their Mohawk clan counterparts. Ed and Mary were getting used to encountering both grey wolves and coyotes in and around Giants' Rest and the Great Lodge, along with a certain ever-present great horned owl.

The long winter continued on and on but spring would be incredible! Ed looked forward to sleeping under the stars with Mary and 'talking' with turtles in the spring, along with owls, wolves, bears and other intriguing wild critters. Despite hardships, life on the Reservation was full of wonder and hope!

Ed and Mary moved again to a Turtle Lodge in Giants' Rest that was close to the Tribe school. There Ed was happy to finally begin teaching history to young Tribe members! Not for the first time he wondered about the applicability of past human history to the emerging problems of climate change and the strange challenges presented by such things as jants and Stone-Coats. However, he felt certain that education was a positive thing, a mechanism by which knowledge was passed on to successive generations as it evolved in Lamarckian fashion.

Sure, there were a lot of problems troubling the world and its inhabitants, but right now things were looking up! He was with his Mary and among talented friends that knew what they were doing. Life was good! What could possibly go wrong?

****

The End

About Other Publications by This Author

This is the second story in the series Global Warming Fun. If you enjoyed this novella, you may be interested in reading the other short stories and novellas of this series as they gradually emerge. You may also be interested in the already published full-length e-books of this author, including a (currently FREE!) collection of twenty fantasy and sci-fi short stories titled There Goes The Neighborhood; Earthly Fantasy/Science Fiction Short Stories.

If you like ancient secrets, magic and science, romance and adventure, fantasy and science fiction, try reading the (currently FREE!) full-length novels Secrets of Goth Mountain (which like the current novella has strong Native American themes) and its loosely coupled epic fun-packed sequel Government Men.

Bird lovers that like strong human female heroines and stronger blue jay heroes may (if T-rex sized raptors and other nuisances can be tolerated) enjoy an adventure trip to Aves the bird planet, achieved by reading the traditional science fiction thriller Blue Dawn Jay of Aves.

Fantasy noir detective fans that can abide what used to be known by feminists as a 'male chauvinist pig' private detective as a hero, and can also tolerate trolls, elves, and other unexpected visitors to our world along with a talking mob cat, may enjoy The Shrinking Nuts Case.

To learn the author's world view including thoughts on multiverse and quantum mechanics physics concepts and how that compares with phenomena that occur in the above novels, get geeky with the brief (currently FREE!) e-book NOW and the Weltanschauung of Government Men.

All are either FREE or absurdly CHEAP and are available at Smashwords and affiliated e-book sites.

Good reading!

****
