Return of the Nommo

The frozen enigma.

"What did the poor cephalopods do to us and why must it be this freezing place? Huh, tell me why? I mean they live in the ocean, are squishy and will never, ever step out of the waters."

The intern remarked as our aircraft's jerky movements woke her up from what must have been a rather pleasant dream involving some young ram of a mountain goat; the son of Pan himself, named Kobedi. Aside from the dream shuttering movements of our tiny cesna aircraft as it touched down at the institute's outpost in the south pole, our journey was a salubrious one.

"They did nothing to us. It is their recent weird behavior of swarming around specific members of their species that got our esteem marine biologists at the institute poking and peeking where they should not. Now we must find some cosmic iceberg with a rocky core, confirm their nonsense, leave your poor marine friends alone and go home. I am here as a geo-scientist, you want to become one so again focus on the task at hand. Finding the meteor that got us here or not finding it."

I calmy answered Dikeledi Mophatlhane; my intern, as best as I could. The data we were equipped with when we left Cape Town, only mentioned octopus swarms or was it herds, gathering around a certain type of octopus; the mimic octopus. Also, if my secret turns out to be true.

No ways. How can it be?

The mimic octopus is able to perceive way more colours than any other creature on earth. It makes the chameleon's kaleidoscopic monkeyshines look like a dull attempt to hide from its prey. Still that cannot be seen as shape shifting. The marine biologists looked like they were in too deep. The new octopus phenomena was a real enigma. Their deciphering of the enigmatic marine phenomena only resulted in evidence of extraterrestrial beings on a huge ice clad meteor that is apparently part of one of this glacier capped mountains.

Our base, the Mqithi Institute of crypto-zoology's outpost sits at the banks of a frozen lake. The lake is the only source of water in a small valley surrounded by punishing mountains. One of them is the haystack whereupon lies our proverbial needle; the meteor from the Sirius solar system.

"You forgot to add aviator, zoologist, astronomer and what is this rumour about poetry? No, no, no what kind of weather is? What have I done? The things we do in the name of science. Ga-Rasai is very nice and warm compared to this place."

The wind answered her with a howl and smattering of snowflakes across her face, as she raced towards the hangar doors. We had to secure our only ride out of this place, as we came riding the beak of a mighty storm. Although small, the outpost is a very formidable fortress capable of weathering any tempest mother nature could conjour against it.

The Institute made sure that the interiors of the hangar and adjoining facilities, met all the whims of its erudite employees. The rest of the day was spent indoors, attending to our equipment and getting ready for what promised to be an adventure worthy of a sci-fi movie script.

So Dogon legends are true.

My mind raced back to Mali. I remembered listening to the village chief about their customs, beliefs and rituals as clear as if I just left his audience. His scoffs at my feeble attempts to speak his tongue, still produces little burst of dopamine everytime I hear mention of Mali. I took out the talisman I was given by the Dogon shaman and looked at the markings on it.

How could this be? How could an ancient Alkebulanean tribe have a map about a region this far out?

"Hey doc, where did you say you got that rock from? And please do not tell me that old-man-from-Mali story again. I know who gave you that ugly rock. Like I was born yesterday. Everytime she passes by or someone mentions her name, a certain scientist defies the laws of science and starts to blush."

"And who might that be? And where do you get such notions? I do not know what you are talking about. But since you asked..."

The story rolls off my tongue as though it were about my own life.

Maybe it is?

Anyway, the Dogon possess fragments of a map to a cave on a huge glacier capped mountain in the south pole. The cartographer who produced the ancient map, used pieces of flat meteorite and wood to create his work. The meteorites, when placed in a rectangular indentation in middle of a door-like slab of wood, they become puzzle pieces to a map detailing the whereabouts of a meteor that came from Poli Tolo; the Dogon word for Sirius; the dog star.

The Dogon shaman claimed that, they; the Dogon are not from here. They were created by beings from a watery planet which is part of a group of worlds in a binary star system. One of the two suns is the star they call Poli Tolo. On my talisman, there is an image of what I was told is a mountain whose peak is shaped like the ears of a fox.

I took another look at the gallery of images taken by those who had occupied this premises before us. I found the image I was looking for. It was the panoramic shot taken from the outpost's roof. The photographer was generous enough to supply us with the spot and the direction he or she was panning her camera in.

Our fox mountain was at the top right corner of the now maximized image that filled one of screens attached to the institute's computers.

"If my shaman mentor is right, tomorrow we start by going towards that mountain. Those snow ready AVs can get us there by midday, if we start off early tomorrow. Hope this place calms down. I would not want to drag Pan's daughter-in-law out into a fierce storm like this one."

"Uhhm, this story is quite boring. Some of us have seen the sparks between Dr Ntsepe Tseke; the head of department of Geosciences and Dr Mmamokati Monareng from the Astrophysics Department. Why the constant charades between you two, no one knows."

Dikeledi proved to be one curious intern, however she was not happy about the thought of climbing a mountain in this type of weather. Yet the idea of being the first black woman to encounter alien technology was a very powerful drug for her.

"Rest well my dear. Tomorrow we go towards destiny."

I bid my intern farewell as I stood up and walked out of the lab with the intention of getting an early night's rest. However sleep could not come.

How can a pedi young man be a prince of an extraterrestrial race of aquatic beings?

I can accept the possibility of the same ethnic roots between the Dogon in Mali and the Pedi in Azania.

Me, an off-world prince? How can that be...