Seed of Evil by Greig Beck (great reads .txt) 📕

“A great island floated in an ocean as vast as the eye could see. It was attached by four thick ropes reaching up to the sky, which was made of rock then. There was no sun or stars and because everything was dark; there was no need for eyes. One day, a water beetle named Dayuni’si volunteered to explore underwater and found mud there that he brought back to the surface. He eventually brought up enough to make an island. He liked what he had done so he continued his work until he had brought so much mud to the surface that he created the Earth. As the Earth hardened, they pulled a sun out from behind the rock and made a rainbow.

“The first creatures who moved on their bellies could not at first see so the Great Spirit gave them eyes and then told them to stay awake for seven days and nights, but most of them could not do this.

“However, the plants that stayed awake were able to stay green all year, and the forest grew mighty. But there was no sound of voices raised in anger, or war, or even love. There were no cities, no tribes, no kingdoms. But there was a god.

“The great forests now covered the land from one side of the country to the other. And from that great early forest, there was one who rose up—not man or animal or fish, but something far older with an intelligence as old as time itself.

“It watched with its eternal eyes the changing of time. It saw the animals turn from scale to fur, and then watched as they rose up on two legs. It approved, because it needed them all. This great god as old as time needed its servants.”

“Adotte Sakima,” Greg said.

Nightbird nodded but didn’t open his eyes. “But at first the tree god cared not about its servants. They were impure and needed to be changed. So, it did that. Changed them.

“But the great spirit was not happy with the tree god changing what it had created. So, he banished the Adotte Sakima.”

“Where? Where was it banished to?” Mitch asked. “In the mine?”

“It is everywhere.” Nightbird finally opened his eyes. “These remnants of the servants that have been found are all over the country.”

“So, there could be more than one of them?” Mitch asked.

“Or maybe just one but some sort of giant,” Greg added. “There’s something called a honey fungus that measured two and a half miles across up in the Blue Mountains in Oregon. It’s thought to be the largest living organism on Earth. Maybe it’s like this.”

“Maybe there was many, and maybe there is only one. But even one is too many,” Nightbird said. “TheAdotte Sakima is not a benign god.”

“Well god or not, there’s something weird in that water,” Mitch replied. “I did a search on some microscopic flora I found in the sample I took, and it linked to something very ancient. The Museum at the University of Zürich had found plant spores that dated back a quarter of a billion years—they were a perfect match.”

“It’s that old? Impossible.” Greg shook his head.

“That’s nothing,” Mitch replied. “There was a microscopic seed in the water sample that seemed to match with some of the first seed-bearing plants dating back to the Devonian Period—400 million years ago.”

“Primordial,” Greg scoffed. “What’s it doing here? Now?”

“Adotte Sakima does not live by our rules of lifespans of living or dying,” Nightbird scoffed. “Anyway, like I said, finally the great spirit had enough of this upstart god and banished it from the land.” Nightbird turned. “Banished, but not vanquished.”

The old man lapsed into silence.

“Whoa.” Greg nodded. “That’s some legend.”

Nightbird snorted. “And if it was just a legend, you two wouldn’t be here, right?”

Mitch and Greg looked at each other, knowing he was right.

“So?” The old Native American turned to Mitch.

“So, what happened last time? How did you stop it?” he asked. “I know that the CDC took many of the infected people away, but how did they stop more infected people turning up in the community? What did they do?”

“They didn’t do anything, but you want me to tell you what happened?” Nightbird lifted his chin.

“Sure, we need to know,” Greg replied. “You were the guy on the ground back then.”

“They didn’t do anything because they didn’t have to do anything.” He chuckled. “The old Otoe in me says that Adotte Sakima was sated, and maybe had enough servants, and enough meat in his larder, to last him a while. So, the curse of the tree god was lifted.” He nodded. “That would fit with the legend.”

“And what would the modern Otoe say, the one who fixes cars and sits on the council?” Mitch asked.

“He’d say the mine dried up, and then so did the curse.” Nightbird turned to look at both men.

Mitch nodded. “It all comes back to the mine.”

“Maybe not just the mine,” Nightbird said. “That’s just its highway. Something down there—maybe it’s a tree god, and maybe it’s something else entirely. But one thing I know—wherever that water comes from is a bad place.”

Greg exhaled. “Just great. Every pothole, every crevice, or cave is a potential contamination transmission site.”

“It’d be a good start though,” Nightbird responded. “I told them to close the mine back in the seventies. But the powers that be decided that if there ever was demand for limestone, then a mine that was pre-dug was too valuable to destroy. Money won out.”

Mitch nodded. “So, they just put a fence around it and hung a few warning signs.”

Nightbird started to laugh corrosively. “Yeah, you guys love the almighty dollar. Always comes first.”

“That’s not fair,” Mitch replied.

“Fair?” Nightbird scoffed. “You’re talking to an old guy sitting on a reservation…on a postage stamp of land when all of it belonged to us in the past.”

Mitch rubbed hands up through his hair and sighed. “Didn’t come here for the politics, Mr. Nightbird, I came here for help