Fish Tails

by Sheri S. Tepper

  The being had a nodule at the top that might be regarded as a head. After a moment or two it really appeared to be a head, as it had suddenly acquired a nose, mouth, two eyes, two ears, and . . . what was supposed, Abasio thought, to pass for hair. With each ensuing moment that passed, these features grew more . . . familiar. It was adopting local . . . color.

  “I greet you,” said the creature. “I am titled Balytaniwassinot. I come from far away and bring greetings from the galactic overlords, whose humble servant I am.”

  No one said anything, so what the hell? Abasio filled in. “We greet you in return. We are . . . amazed that you speak a language we can understand. Did you fall, drop . . . plunge into that lake back there?”

  “Unfortunate but true. It was not . . . supposed to be there. Planetary charts are no longer accurate. There have been great . . . changes in recent . . . periods of time. Is this not true?’

  Abasio nodded. He supposed so. The creature he confronted was not half as scary as the three he’d confronted under the Gaddir House, and they hadn’t eaten him. Chances were, this one wouldn’t either. He cleared his throat. “Are you here for some . . . ah, purpose?”

  Good, good! thought Balytaniwassinot. At least purpose was recognized. Could not get on with job until purpose was noted. “I am . . .” It paused, adjusted its resonator for clarity. “I am titled Balytaniwassinot, also short-­named Fixit! I will explain name. ‘Baly’ means first-­chosen one, eldest in family. ‘Tani’ means gender, I am a tan second gender of my five-­gendered ­people. ‘Wassinot’ is earned name, last part of name given when creature manifests skill, talent, propensity. In my case, ‘wassinot’ was given because of propensity to mend, repair, put in order, reestablish purposeful use of things. In your language ‘wassinot’ would be . . . ‘fixit.’ I am therefore Eldest Tan Who Fixes Things. You may call me ‘Fixit.’ I am . . . an official of the galactic . . . ah, supervisory group. I have been sent.”

  “Sent by whom?” said someone else.

  Balytaniwassinot turned. A person wrapped in a colorful shawl-­blanket approached. A person who by its own manner defined itself as “important.” Balytaniwassinot bowed. “Personage,” he said.

  “Why are you here?” asked the personage.

  “One was sent. One was told to find certain loci.” Balytaniwassinot unfurled its memory leaf from under its fourth arm and referred to it. “One may find oneself anywhere in a galaxy by depending upon a concatenation of loci. There is present near here one female . . . Griffin. Griffin being a human-­constructed, self-­aware, basically mammalian, formerly mythical being with wings and the features of eagle, lion, and so forth. Is this so?”

  “This is so,” said one of the creatures.

  Balytaniwassinot said, “Check mark.” Self made a check mark, noting the local time and the galactic date. “Also is present, one female young of this Griffin?”

  “This is also true.” This answer came from someone else.

  Balytaniwassinot directed its face to smile. “You see, check mark, another check mark. Is also here one very large female mountain? Ah, maternal mountain?”

  The creatures looked at one another. The personage before Self spoke: “I am Wide Mountain Mother.”

  Balytaniwassinot allowed personage to see Self suffered confusion. Being confused always pleased newly approached races. It diluted one’s impressive superiority, allowing one to seem more . . . local. “One is not mountain,” it said with intentional bafflement and a slight hint of charming confusion.

  The speaker turned and pointed imperiously at the eastern horizon. “Do you see the end of the desert there?”

  “It is apprehended.”

  “Do you see that far to the north, that way, it rises and goes a long, long way south before it lowers itself again?”

  “I do so perceive!”

  “Most mountains stand among other mountains and most of them are tall. That one is alone and very, very wide. It is called Wide Mountain. Our ­people here are the Wide Mountain ­people. I am Mother-­Most of those ­people, and I am Wide Mountain Mother. Do you understand?”

  “One apprehends. Another check mark! Now. Does one have here a Griffin demanding for its child, children, future in the seas?”

  “We do.”

  “Check mark. Does female offspring of same concur in demand?”

  “It does.”

  “Check mark.” Balytaniwassinot let the scroll extend farther. “Does world suffer incursion of creature calling self ‘Oracles’?”

  For a moment no one spoke, then Grandma said, “I’m afraid it does. Yes.”

  “Label pertaining to self?” Fixit directed a digit at her pointedly, as though it had no idea who or what she was. Fixit had been present at her birth, though unnoticeably.

  “I am called . . . Lillis, or, more often, Grandma.”

  “You are knowing said Oracles?”

  “Yes,” she said disconsolately. Her whole world was going to hell in a handbasket. She just knew it.

  “Check mark. We do proceed, do we not? Now, also, is one here recognizing name ‘Crash’?”

  “I do,” said Abasio, as though in a dream. “He’s a boy. Son of Jinian. He’s somewhere else.”

  “Somewhere else being Lom section of Ocalcalcalip. Where is Crash-­son-­of-­Jinian being seen by you?”

  “I have repeating dreams. In my dream he’s in the tower, damn it. Always in the tower.”

  “Describing tower, please. Also does one here have recognition of statue of woman? Very unhappy woman?”

  “The tower’s white. It has a bell and a pool and the statue of the woman was in the tower,” said Abasio. “Every damned time.”

  “Very good!” crowed Fixit, smiling broadly to remove the residuary apprehension that was still detectable in the surrounding . . . throng, group, assembly. “Broad Geological-­Protrusion Maternal Creature, can you provide help to move a heaviness out of intragalactic wormhole module? Men? Strong, yes? Something to use for rollers. Yes?”

  They all watched, as though in a trance, while several logs were fetched as rollers for a dozen of the Wide Mountain men to use in rolling a stone statue of a contorted woman out of the . . . wormhole ship, down the ramp, and onto the plaza.

  “Oh, poor thing,” cried Xulai and Precious Wind, almost as one voice.

  “Not long poor thing, not long,” said Balytaniwassinot. “Very soon thousand-­year time is up. Woman received thousand-­year stone curse on Lom. Self not understanding curse methodology, but is evidently powerful on Lom. Curse is stone-­for-­one-­thousand-­years. However, curse is not intelligent. Curse cannot compute slow time or fast time; years there not so long as years here; added centuries due to crossing very many galactic time zones. Add fact also: wormhole time is compressed! One cannot go home again. Too soon ago. Now. Only few more points to check off list. Do persons here know spirit of planet. Urth, not?”

  “We call it Earth, yes,” said Xulai. “I . . . we aren’t aware of a spirit . . .”

  “Being unaware not surprising. Too many mankinds always sucking makes very weak, sick spirit. Trees fall, spirit weakens. Oceans stink. Spirit weakens. Never very strong. All those ice ages, extinctions. Then plague of mankinds. Weakening, very weakening.”

  It turned and called, its voice suddenly becoming a piercing sound that fled from where they were to the farthest mountains and retuned as echo: “Gaea! Gaea!”

  They were silent, and it was not until several moments had passed that they saw the tiny, virtually transparent being standing next to Balytaniwassinot. The galactic officer patted it on its . . . upper protrusion. “T’cha. Poor thing, poor thing, why didn’t you ask for help? Umm?”

  “Din’t know how,” it whimpered. “Hiding. ’Most no place left to hide . . .”

  “She’ll need remedial care,” said Balytaniwassinot, fixing them all with a
n unmistakable glare. “This is despicable what mankinds have done to her. I’ll be taking over for her while she’s in rehab and you will not try any of your nonsense with me. Oh, she’s in bad shape. Oh, shame on you. Shameshameshame! All of you.”

  “I resent that ‘all of you’ bit,” said Grandma. “Some of us have been doing our very best to stop the misuse—­”

  “And much good has your best done! Fiddling with Oracles. You don’t have time for . . . Ah. I think my companions on this journey are stirring.” It went into the ship and returned after a time with two women. One older, but not aged. One quite young but with an air of strain and loss in her face. Immediately, two women from one of the surrounding houses moved forward. Wide Mountain Mother nodded at them, and they escorted the two passengers toward the nearest house, Mother’s house. Placing and replacing the rolling logs, the men pushed the statue along behind them.

  Mother said to Fixit, “We presume hospitality may be offered, hot tea. A comfortable place to sit and talk?”

  Balytaniwassinot nodded. Then it made a noise, rather like a trumpet fanfare. When all eyes were fixed on it, Self began to orate, hands raised. “Much time ago from this place two ships went to Ocalcalcalip. Unfortunate choice in one respect. Silly world spirit there played dolly house with planet. Each room separate little piece. No doors. No stairs. Nothing connected, nothing allowed to connect. Ocean tides messy, washes up things from ocean bottom. Spirit moves moon away, stops tides. Now no ocean currents to speak of, reefs cutting them off. Spirit doesn’t like wind, makes things dusty. Fixes planet so it is without winds. Mountains cutting them off. Everything local, small, cute.

  “One part of planet, off by itself, peninsula name of Lom. In spiritual vacuum Lom develops its own spirit, arising out of need. Lom spirit is calling itself Ganver! Original world spirit doesn’t mind, has enough trouble keeping everything clean, pretty elsewhere. Lucky, your ships go to that place: Lom. Otherwise all ­people on ships die of being bored, wearing dolly dresses. Oh, shame! Ocalcalcalip world should have been fixed long time ago! Am fixing now! Spirit has been moved to nice little asteroid with lots of meteor holes needing curtains with ruffles, no atmosphere to hold dust, no water to make mud, everything very neat. Former sectional spirit, Ganver, will be taking over planet Ocalcalcalip.”

  “Do you mean that really happened?” gasped Grandma. “Curtains? On meteor holes?”

  “I speak . . . meteor-­phorically but truly. Spirit was more interested in orderly than in fertile, more interested in pretty than in useful. World was god-­awful mess. But neat. Happens sometimes. Galactic large projectile has nifertug with second-­sex child—­wait, words ambigmeous . . . Need REFERENCE.” The last two words were uttered as a command. Behind it, in the ship, a light went on. A sparkling device appeared above the creature’s head.

  It nodded and went on. “Ah, Bigshot has friend with daughter. Daughter aspiring to be planetary spirit. Bigshot pulls ropes, ah . . . strings . . . arranges for girl getting job. Spirit has no big image, sees only small things. Cannot see forest for tall wooden growths. Cannot see mountain range for big rocks. Cannot see pasture for grass. Thinks wind unnecessary because is blowing dust or because wind is not pretty. Tsk. Mistake.

  “So, in absence of sensible planetary governance, several local places of Ocalcalcalip grew their own spirits. One of them, Ganver, is now taking over planet. Installing weather there now! Creature had good sense, good feedback systems by way of chemical signals. Good local place. Your ships landed there. Ganver, good, kind creature, didn’t know mankinds are plague. Didn’t know poor design meant creatures breed like small four-­legged grain thieves! Lookee me, lookee me, I got big whacky-­doodle. I like play with big whacky-­doodle, make many baby. Right?”

  Grandma spoke in a distant voice. “Sounds like you’ve met Mobwows before.”

  “Mobwow?” Fixit uttered the command again. “REFERENCE.” The device reappeared. “Reference says you make word! Monkey-­brain. Willy-­wagger. With Oh Oh?”

  “How did you know that? Needly and I were the only ones there!”

  “Reference is everywhere. Simultaneously absorbing words, sound words, smell words, touch words, all communication methods. Reference is very good spy. Has ears everywhere. And eyes, noses, oh, yes. Mobwow! Very perfect word! Will remember word!

  “Fixit is experienced agent. One thousand years in training. Now on nine thousand nine hundred ninety-­ninth job. Next one, I get new hat, with gold on.” Balytaniwassinot smiled brilliantly, rainbows reflected from its teeth, splashing off in all directions. “You are not only plague in universe! I have seen others. Some worse. Some turned over new record page and became reasonable creatures. I will talk to you, Grandma, about Mobwows and Oracles. I think you already know about them, it. Amateurs. Never answer questions, no? Afraid they may say wrong thing. Cannot allow self to say wrong thing. Pretend to be mysterious. All creature needs to do to seem wise is to keep communication system inactive. Others think silence sign of wisdom. Not unfounded. In many, silence would be sign of wisdom. Not Oracles. Oracles have no wisdom, only able to act mysterious. It/they don’t answer? Because it/they don’t know. Good mechanics, though. Something wrong with your filth flusher. Oracles very good at thinking up Arbitrarily Imposed Solutions. Oracles say, ‘Remove filth flusher, tell creature to excrete on tree root.’

  “You had creature on this world much like Oracles. I forget name. Will remember . . . ah, yes, was called Poly-­ti-­shun. Famous for Arbitrarily Imposed Solutions: AIS: ‘Have problem? Person doing something we disapprove of? Pass law against, build more prisons.’ Was made extinct during Big Kill. What is saying? Even black cloud has silver lining. Yes?”

  Balytaniwassinot seemed to take a deep breath. It shook its head, then smiled again. “This Earth is not bad place. Seems worth saving, no! We will see what can be done short of AIS, and I know you will help me willingly, with energy and dedication. So I will stay awhile. Eventually, my passengers will want to return home. Ah . . . even the third one, see. No more rock. They stay now for a while before I take them home.”

  They all turned, following its gaze. Outside Wide Mountain Mother’s house the men had been unable to roll the statue through the door, and during the process the statue had softened and was trying to get up. Wide Mountain women were already beside her, helping her up. Her clothes were falling into dust. Wide Mountain Mother snatched off her shawl and wrapped it around the former statue. They moved into the house.

  The visitor suddenly snapped its fingers, or what might have been fingers. “Saying ‘rock’ reminds me. Another loci. You have boy who is rock, wounded? Here?”

  “Yes,” cried Needly. “Yes we do. Willum.”

  “My passengers. Those women in the house? Aha! I will tell story. Be listening carefully.

  “I am on Lom, recruiting Ganver to be world spirit for whole planet, we are near Listener, which is crying plea for help, help, help. Cry for help is coming from planet you call Earth. Here. Person called Needly is asking help from Listener here on Earth. Person called Abasio is asking help. Person called Grandma—­that one is you, right? Asking help. Also Xulai pleading help. This Listener on Lom and the one on Earth are very closely tied. All the time messages, back and forth, back and forth. I am telling Ganver what is trouble, Earth is being drowned. Ganver says it knows all about it. It happens because long ago, before so much weakened, Earth spirit has asked for mankinds to be exterminated because mankinds are killing planet.

  “Plea for help has long ago been answered by Ganver, who has asked Squamutch to send extra water to Earth to exterminate mankinds. Mankinds refuse extermination, change themselves into fish. Or something similar. In meantime, boy is rock, boy is wounded, very fine exemplary boy much needed by certain creatures destined to be pivorot . . . Reference! . . . that is . . . nexus, pivotal, ah . . . necessary good persons. So Ganver is saying it knows solutions to problems. How Griffins can g
o to sea. How boy can be healed. How everything can be done with consent of persons involved. No AIS. NO Arbitrarily Imposed Solution! Ganver is sending three women to fix situation. That is why they are here, partly. I have brought one shape-­changer. I have brought one healer. I have brought one witch who is also linguist. Ganver has restored some talents just for this purpose. Since they are here, fortuitously, they will no doubt, along with other things, help take the rock from the boy.”

  Balytaniwassinot did something that sounded like a sigh. “Now, for today that is enough. Abasio, will you visit with me for a time? I like simple two-­person conversation to become more familiar. We will wander about, learn . . . environment? Yes? I have small mover that flies. I will leave the big one here. We will return soon.” And with that, it gestured for Abasio to go into the turtle, then went in and shut the door.

  Needly, Grandma, Xulai, Precious Wind, Deer Runner, Coyote, and Bear . . . were left standing in the plaza alone.

  Xulai said hesitantly, “We could go over to the wagon and have some tea. I left a kettle keeping warm on the fire before our . . . can’t call it a guest, can I?”

  Precious Wind growled, “More like the guy who works for the guy who really owns the property we thought we owned, only it turns out we don’t even have a lease. And how did it know about Willum? And all those other . . . ‘loci.’ ”

  A door opened across the way. Arakny. She stepped outside and beckoned. “All of you, come on in over here. It’s chilly out there, coming on for snow, I think. Bear, you and Coyote, too. I have honey. And chicken.”

  It was the house the three women had been taken into, the three women who were now sitting quietly, drinking tea. Arakny went to one of them. “Everyone, this is Silkhands. She is a healer. The woman next to her is Mavin. She is a shapeshifter, and she is called Mavin Manyshaped . . .”

  “I don’t believe that,” growled Bear—­in Bear—­to Coyote.