Bleeding Jungle "The new plague is ruthless," lamented Ollin. "There are less than forty of us left with their health. I am falling ill as well. We hardly have enough people to carry out another Movement. So we shall stay. The prophecy is being completed. We must accept our fate and die honourably."
"There is no honour in dying from a fever," retorted Atl. "There is no honour in giving up hope. Throughout your long, great, treasured ancestry the leader of this tribe has guided his subjects to a new place of safety after every full moon. The moon is already waning. Are you going to let this disease prevent you from upholding our tradition - our religion? It is the disease that's discouraging you after all, for the black box has done no harm. It did not cause the plague, and nobody ever said its discovery meant that we had to submit to the plague. The box will complete the prophecy of its own accord. We must not just sit here and die; we must go out fighting in the true spirit of our tribe. We must make our ancestors proud. We can -"
"Enough!" bellowed Ollin. He bowed his stretched head pensively. He exuded such an intense air of authority that Atl felt he couldn't breathe without permission. Ollin seemed to consider something for a long period of time before he raised his head again. He took a deep breath.
"My son, I am not convinced that there is any hope at all. Our bodies cannot handle this white man's plague. And even if their sickness does not wipe us out, they will soon take the rainforest away from us. We cannot live unless we are lost in its shelter. Every other tribe that we used to share the forest with is long gone, made extinct by the invasion of the white men so many seasons ago; and our tribe was falling in number even before this plague began to obliterate us. There is nothing we can do. Almost nothing. There is just one possibility. Atl, only you have resisted the disease so far. You have been in direct contact with it almost constantly for some time, and yet it has not infected you. I must live to produce a formal heir if we are to go on. So I put the tribe in your hands. If you can discover what it is that allows you to repel the disease, and use it to cure me, then we will move. Show me that there is hope, and we will fight."
Atl was taken aback. The challenge was delivered as an order, but it sounded like a plea. And what a challenge it was. Success meant a new breath of life for the tribe, a new hope. The price for failure was heavy: the death of their entire race. The end of the world. Atl did not reply. He left with uncertain determination.
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