Kilimanjaro by Mike Resnick

Author:Mike Resnick
Language: eng
Format: epub

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Twilight on Kilimanjaro (2239 a.d.)

I was sitting at my computer, proofreading a paper I had prepared on the earliest days of Kilimanjaro, when the machine spoke up.

“David ole Saitoti, your presence is required at the local hospital.”

“Can you give me any details?” I asked it.

“You are expected,” said the computer. “Someone will greet you.”

I didn’t know if it was an emergency or not, so I decided it would be better to drive there in my own car than to take public transportation. I went down to the garage, got into my vehicle, and sped to the hospital, which was about two miles away. I left the car with an attendant, then rushed into the lobby. No one was waiting for me, so I went up to the registration desk.

“I am David ole Saitoti,” I said. “I received a message that–”

“Ah, yes,” said the receptionist. “Your presence is requested in room 208.”

“Is it Joshua ole Saibull?” I asked. “Or perhaps Leader Blumlein?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I only know that you are to report to room 208.”

I took an airlift to the second level, then walked down the corridor until I came to the room in question. I opened the door and entered it. An emaciated old man lay on the bed, bandages and dressings on his right arm, tubes running into and out of his body. A doctor walked over to greet me.

“You’re David ole Saitoti?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you could come so quickly.”

“Why am I here?” I asked. “I don’t know this patient.”

“He requested your presence.”

“He did?” I said, surprised. I stared intently at the old man. “I’ve never seen him before. Perhaps you misunderstood him.”

“I doubt it,” replied the doctor. “You’re the historian, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“He insisted that we summon an historian.” He smiled. “It was an easy choice. You seem to be the only one we have.”

I looked down at the patient. “What’s the matter with him?”

“He tried to kill himself” was the answer. “He botched the job. I think we’ll probably release him tomorrow.”

“But all these tubes…” I said.

“Just precautions. He was dehydrated, and his electrolyte balance was poor.”

“Why did he try to take his own life?” I asked.

“I have no idea,” said the doctor. “I think that’s what he wants to talk to you about.”

“What’s his name?”

The doctor looked at a hand computer. “Sokoine ole Parasayip.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Well, you have now.” Something beeped in one of his pockets. “I’ve got to go down the hall,” he said.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He left the room, and I turned back to the patient, who was now staring unblinking at me.

“I thought you were asleep,” I said, startled.

“I was awake,” he replied. “I simply had nothing to say to the city laiboni.”

“He’s not a witch doctor,” I said.

“Of course he is. I practice the ancient ways, he practices the new ways. Otherwise we are the same.”

“So you’re a laiboni?”

“I am a laiboni,” confirmed Sokoine ole Parasayip. He stared at me. “You look puzzled.”

“I am,” I told him.

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