The Days of Peleg by Jon Saboe Page B

uncertain, and magnetic anomalies were uncharted. Although the powerful but mysterious magnetic forces usually compelled compass needles to align along the axis, there were certain regions of land and sea where they pointed in other directions or sometimes were even known to spin uselessly. Until they could make new observations, their course would be increasingly inaccurate the further east they traveled.
    This afternoon, Zini had two passengers. Serug sometimes accompanied him to help with writing down measurements, but today, without any new land in sight, there simply was nothing to do; so they shared the ride out of boredom.
    There had been a small celebration earlier that morning to commemorate the third anniversary of their departure. Certain events from their send-off elicited jokes and one-liners. Concerning Reu-Nathor’s farewell speech: “We’ll see you in twelve years—don’t be late!” And a most rare and unusual event—a small family of curious Anzudmušen with their tufted tails, metallic blue crests, and twelve-meter wingspans had flown above the ships, escorting them from port: “It is a good thing the Great Behemoths don’t fly,” the men had joked. The Tabannusi , which was commissioned to scout and survey the entire coastline of the southern continent, had to clean and repair her mainsails when it was damaged by inconsiderate contributions from one of the enormous reptilian vultures.
    Now they sat in the gondola, staring out into the expanse.
    “I keep thinking about the Primordial Dreamstate ,” Serug reflected. It had now been several months since their encounter with the Koori , but he often enjoyed discussing his conversations he had had with some of their young men.
    While there, Peleg had dutifully shared Reu-Nathor’s pronouncement concerning the Great Awakening, and the local scholars had received it with great excitement. But Serug had found himself with a group of less-cultured field-workers who had presented him with their own homegrown view of origins.
    “These Koori farmhands believed that everything prior to the Great Calamity was simply in the minds of the gods. All of creation had occurred only in their dreams, but upon waking, their dreams had manifested themselves in reality, and so here we are.”
    “You know, you are starting to sound more and more like our tonga driver,” Peleg noted. He was actually becoming concerned for Serug.
    “Oh, I’m not saying I believe them,” Serug quickly defended himself. “I’m just thinking. What if we were nothing more than someone else’s dreams? What if all of our collective memories never really happened.”
    Peleg’s patience was wearing thin. Serug’s thoughts were increasingly childish, even for him. “You’re going to drive yourself crazy with that kind of thinking. If not you, then me. Anyone can come up with a different theory about life that is un-provable, then worry themselves sick over it.”
    He looked over at his friend, scowled, and then said in his most authoritative voice. “You realize, of course: It’s turtles all the way down!”
    Serug laughed and jabbed a finger towards Peleg. “Prove it!” He grinned at Peleg as if to say, Don’t worry. I’m not going crazy.
    “It’s easy to see why anyone can believe almost anything,” Serug continued. “Phenomenology can really twist your head around.”
    “You certainly twist mine,” Peleg retorted. “Especially when you use words bigger than you are. You know, I think I liked you better when you were a goofy, drunken fool.”
    “Yeah, that’s why you invited me on this excursion.” He doggedly returned to his topic. “I still want to figure out the source of ideas. I mean, where does thought or intelligence come from? It seems that truth ought to be valid regardless of the source.”
    Peleg decided to survey the overcast skies again as Serug continued to think aloud. It looked as though the clouds were clearing. He might even get a good measurement