by Amy Thomson
Then a wave of unadulterated pleasure swept aside her rage as easily as though it were a feather in a breeze. She drifted in a warm sea of euphoria, divorced from her body. Nothing mattered anymore. She drifted happily into unconsciousness.
Juna awoke. She was half buried in a pile of moist leaves. Two aliens slept in piles of leaves on the other side of the room. She remembered the cold presence investigating her body from the inside, and she shivered despite the humid warmth of the tree.
Then she remembered the wash of pleasure that had wiped away her resistance. She sat, shivering, naked, and terrified by how easily the aliens had taken her over. And she had enjoyed it.
She had to leave. Better to die, starving and lost in the jungle, than to remain here and endure more violations like that.
She gathered what she could: a flint knife, a water gourd, a small net, and a braided coil of stout cord, and placed them in one of the aliens’ shoulder bags. Then she collected all the food she could find and put it in another bag. Slinging them both over her shoulder, she began the long climb out of the tree.
A couple of aliens watched as she walked up the ramp toward the giant tree’s exit. She tensed, waiting for them to sound an alarm or try to stop her. They merely watched her incuriously. Juna didn’t stop to question her good luck. She reached the entrance hole and climbed out. It was night, and a heavy rain was falling as she emerged into the great bowl of the crotch. It was almost totally dark.
Juna paused. Her initial, driving terror had subsided and now she could think. Once she was free of the aliens, what then? The Survey base camp was located on the coast. The flyer had been 600 kilometers north and east of the base when it went down. A sudden solar storm had blocked radio reception, making it impossible to contact base camp. After several days with no sign of abatement, they decided to try to walk out. They had walked about ninety klicks toward the coast. The aliens couldn’t have carried her very far. She was probably within a few kilometers of where she had collapsed.
Juna closed her eyes, remembering the photo maps of the region. A large river lay to the north. They had crossed it in the flyer. The streams in this area drained into it. If she followed a stream, it would lead her to the river. She would follow the river to the sea and then head north up the coast until she reached the base camp. It was a long shot, but if she didn’t starve or get killed by a predator, it might work.
First, though, she had to reach solid ground. She wanted to travel as far as she could by daylight, in case the aliens came after her.
Juna groped her way down the tree, feeling with her hands and feet for footholds. It was a long, terrifying climb. The humid, velvety blackness of the night was easing toward dawn by the time her feet touched the damp leaf litter of the forest floor.
She stood for a long moment embracing one of the massive buttress roots of the tree, her face resting against the bark, her heart hammering, not quite believing she had actually made it. She turned and groped through the dim gloom of the pre-dawn forest, then worked her way downhill until she came to a small stream. There she knelt and drank deeply, then bathed her face and hands.
As Juna washed her face, she wondered what the other members of the Survey team would make of her grotesque transformation. Would they even recognize her as human? She shook the excess moisture from her hands. Better to worry about that when, and if, she ever made it back to base. She felt her throat tighten in fear, and shook her head. She couldn’t allow herself to panic, not if she wanted to reach the coast alive.
Dawn was beginning in earnest. Juna could see more than vague shapes and shadows. She paused to eat and continued on. She had to move quickly; the aliens might be following her.
Exhaustion overtook her near twilight. She ate several of the small fruits in her satchel, and finished off the last of the dried meat. Then she curled up between the buttresses of a tree, covered herself with leaves, and fell asleep.
Chapter 3
Just after dawn, Ilto woke Ani with the news that the creature was missing. Ani was relieved that the stupid, clumsy thing was gone. At least Ilto wouldn’t be making himself sick working on it. When Ilto began gathering supplies to go after it, she realized that it wouldn’t slip out of their lives that easily.
Ninto and Ani managed to convince Ilto to stay in the village and let them search for the new creature. They found its trail around mid-morning. Its distinctive rank scent, like wet feathers on a dead bird, made it easy to track. Ani’s nostrils contracted at the smell, and she exhaled sharply in disgust. Fortunately, she didn’t need her nose to follow the creature. It left a visible trail of broken branches and disturbed leaf litter. It had half a day’s lead on them. They would have to hurry if they wanted to catch up with it.
They paused in a morrin tree for lunch, picking several handfuls of the dark, sweet berries. Ninto found some grubs inside a rotting log. Their sharp, sour flavor tempered the berries’ sweetness.
“You don’t like the new animal, do you?” Ninto asked Ani as they were eating.
“It killed Kirito and it’s killing Ilto,” Ani said. “If Ilto dies, that will be two elders gone in two months.”
“Ilto is the oldest Tendu in the village. It’s time for him to make room for you. He has chosen to die instead of leaving the village. Don’t blame the new creature for Ilto’s choice.”
Ani looked away, not wanting to see her tareena’s words, but Ninto brushed her shoulder with her knuckles, and she looked back.
“Besides,” continued Ninto, “I want to get to know my tareena better in the years I have before I leave the village and let Baha take my place. Perhaps when you’re an elder, you’ll stop worrying so much about what the other bami think, and be my friend.”
Ani turned deep brown, ashamed that Ninto had noticed her shyness and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, kene,” she said, using Ninto’s formal title, “I meant no offense.”
“It’s all right, Ani,” Ninto said. “It’s difficult having a tareena. It hasn’t been easy for me either, watching someone else fill my place with Ilto. But I like being an elder, and Ilto is very proud of you. I promised him that I would watch over you after he dies. I want to be your entoo when you become an elder. Will you let me?”
Ani turned magenta with surprise and amazement. Ninto was highly regarded by the other elders. Her offer of support and sponsorship when Ani became an elder was an unexpected honor.
“I would be honored, Ninto, but I hope—”
“That Ilto doesn’t die,” Ninto finished for her. “He will, Ani, and soon. He loves the village too much to leave it. He’s healing himself more out of pride than because he wants to live. He’ll choose the date for his funeral as soon as he’s sure that the new creature will live. Now let’s find the new creature and bring it back before Ilto starts looking for it himself.”
After scattering the remains of their meal, they found the creature’s trail. They nearly lost it at the first stream they came to, but Ani scented its rank odor on some overhanging leaves. It had headed downstream, walking along the bank and wading when the bank became too overgrown to walk on.
After following the stream for an hour, they were certain enough of the creature’s trail that they began to leapfrog each other. One of them would move ahead and check for the scent, and call back to the other when it was detected. The one behind advanced two or three yai ahead and found the scent trail. This enabled them to move much more quickly. The scent grew fresher as the day progressed.
They paused at sunset for a quick meal of fruit and mealy-tasting dried pingar, then tracked the creature until Ani, still exhausted from caring for Ilto, became too tired to continue. Ninto killed two gudda pups for dinner. They finished eating, built a nest of leaves and branches in a bondra tree, and fell asleep.
Ninto woke Ani before dawn. They ate several handfuls of dried pingar, drank deeply, and set out again. Refreshed by a night’s sleep and some food, they made good time. Ninto found the creature’s sleeping spot. The rank
scent was very fresh. They were close.
Then Ninto scented a pack of taira. The large predatory lizards were also trailing the new creature. Ninto quickened her pace, bars of pale orange anxiety flaring on her back. Ani followed. The clumsy thing didn’t stand a chance against a pack of taira. Ani rather hoped that they killed it.
They heard the high-pitched yips of a taira pack on the hunt, and hurried toward the sound. The new animal was standing against a tree, bright orange with fear as it fended off several of the big lizards with a stick.
The taira were in no hurry. Half the pack lay watching as the others harried the creature. They knew they had the advantage of numbers and time.
The new creature let the end of its stick drop. Immediately, a taira charged, snarling fiercely. The new animal hit the attacking taira on the side of its head, just below its ear. The speed, force, and accuracy of the blow surprised Ani. The taira fell, and the creature hit it again. Bone crunched. The rest of the pack drew back, uncertain.
Ani looked at Ninto. “Now?” she asked.
Ninto flickered acknowledgment. The two of them turned bright red and charged from behind a tree screaming and hurling sticks, stones, rotten fruit, and anything else they could pick up off the forest floor.
The taira fled, falling over each other in their haste. Millennia of association with the Tendu had made such flight instinctive. The new creature backed between the buttresses, and stood, stick in hand, ready to defend itself.
Ani backed away and squatted so as not to threaten the creature. Ninto moved forward, grasped the tail of the wounded taira, and dragged it backward, until it was out of the new animal’s range. The new creature sat down, its stick across its knees. Ani doubted that it would attack unless they tried to capture it, but it wasn’t willing to let go of its only means of defense.
Ninto chittered to get Ani’s attention. She was crouched over the taira, hands sticky with blood.
“It’s dying, Ani. Come help me.”
Ani got up slowly, and crouched beside Ninto. The taira were a part of Ninto’s atwa, and she was responsible for their welfare. Ninto was trying to build up the population in the area so as to bring down the numbers of the puyu before they ate the bark off all the saplings in their territory.
“Can you save it?”
“I think so. It’s strong, but it needs deep work. Will you monitor me?”
Ani looked at the new creature. It was still sitting there, its stick across its knees. Could she trust it not to attack while she was monitoring Ninto? She remembered the crack of the stick as it struck the taira. Clearly the creature was capable of killing, but it hadn’t attacked her or Ilto.
Ani flickered her assent. They linked, and Ninto entered the taira. Ani monitored the balance and flow of Ninto’s body. Ninto healed torn flesh, soothed swollen tissues, and knitted the cracked skull together. The taira was strong, so Ninto was able to draw on its reserves of fat and protein to help heal it.
The healing complete, Ninto and Ani withdrew. The taira was hungry and had a noticeable dent in its head, but it would survive to sire more cubs during the rainy season. They waited until it got up and trotted off into the forest, shaking its head in irritation.
The new creature was gone, but its fresh trail was easy to follow. They caught up with it around mid-morning, sliding down out of the trees. The new creature stopped and turned orange with fear, holding its stick crossways, ready to defend itself. They squatted down out of range of the stick. Ani reached into her bag and pulled out a ripe tumbi that she had found while tracking. She rolled the fruit across the leaf litter to the creature. It picked it up and ate it. When it was finished, Ani and Ninto picked up their satchels and beckoned to the new creature to follow them. It sat down, refusing to move. Irritation forked like yellow lightning down Ani’s spine. She beckoned again, more emphatically this time. The animal sat there, shaking its head in a gesture of refusal.
“What should I do now?” Ani asked Ninto.
“I don’t know. You could sting it and carry it home, but it would be a lot of work, and it would probably run off again as soon as it got the chance.”
“I can’t just leave it here. Ilto wants it back.”
Ninto just shrugged. “You brought it back to the village once before. Try gaining its trust. Find out what it wants and see if you can help it.”
The creature picked up a small stick, and beckoned to Ani and Ninto. It cleared away the leaf litter, exposing the red clay below, and drew a stick figure.
Then it drew a second, smaller stick figure.
It pointed at the first drawing, then at itself, back and forth several times. Then it pointed at the second drawing and at the two of them.
Ani and Ninto watched, ears wide with curiosity and puzzlement. The new creature repeated the gesture over and over again.
“It’s trying to say something,” Ninto said.
Finally it picked up a green leaf, put it beside the second drawing, then put a brown one by the first drawing. It concentrated hard, and slowly began to turn brown. Then it pointed from itself to the drawing.
“I think I understand,” Ani said, “The first drawing is itself, and the second drawing is a Tendu. See, those things on either side of the head are supposed to be ears.”
“Then what’s that stuff sticking out of its head?”
“When we found it, its head was covered with long fuzz, like an ika flower.”
Concentrating hard, Ani copied the stick-figure Tendu on her skin, and then superimposed a picture of a Tendu over it. Then she did the same for the drawing of the new creature, superimposing an image of what it had looked like when they first found it. The image was hazy and indistinct, but the animal seemed to understand. It bobbed its head vigorously and made more guttural noises. It smoothed over the drawings in the dirt, and started another.
Ani recognized a group of Tendu and a group of new animals. Then the creature drew itself standing with the Tendu. It pointed to the drawing and then to itself, several times.
“Yes,” Ani said, “I understand.” She copied the picture on her own chest, superimposing a realistic image of the new creature over the stick figure inside the oval. Ani then displayed the vertical pattern of black bars of agreement on her chest. She made them very large and simple, as though she were talking to someone far away.
The animal nodded in response. It drew a line from the group of Tendu with the new creature to the other new animals.
It pointed from itself to the group of new creatures, back and forth. Ani watched, confused; then Ninto touched her on the shoulder.
“I think it wants to go back to its own kind,” Ninto said.
“We can’t do that,” Ani replied. “We have to take it back to Ilto, and we don’t know where its people are.”
“After Ilto dies we can take it back. Ask it where its people are.”
Ani touched the new animal on the shoulder to get its attention. She pointed at the two drawings, and nodded to show she understood. Then she turned an interrogative shade of purple and spread her ears to show she was asking a question. She pointed at the drawing of the new creatures, and then pointed in all directions. The animal watched attentively, but didn’t seem to understand what she was trying to ask it. Ani picked up the stick, and drew ovals full of new creatures all around the group of Tendu. Then she stood the new creature on the drawing of the Tendu and pointed at each drawing of new creatures, flushing questioningly at each one.
The animal bobbed its head again. It smoothed the dirt with its hands, looked carefully up at the canopy, and began to draw.
Ani recognized the Tendu and the new creatures right away, but she didn’t understand the rest of the drawing. She shook her head, imitating the animal’s gesture to show that she didn’t understand. The creature bobbed its head up and down. It walked to the stream, picked up a double handful of stones, and laid them down on the jagged lines to the left, until it had a line of small piles of stones. It uncapped its water g
ourd and began sprinkling water on the outside of the line to the right until a small puddle of water formed on the heavy clay soil. Then it poured a small stream of water into the forked line that ran through the middle of the picture. The water trickled slowly along the line, flowing out to join the puddle. The creature tapp’ed the forked line with the stick, then walked over to the stream and dipped the point of its stick in the stream.
“The river!” Ani said, understanding breaking through the clouds of her confusion. “That line is the Kiewa River, Ninto. Then those lines must be the mountains, and the puddle is the ocean. Its people are on the coast near that big point of land!”
“You know, they may be at Lyanan. That’s almost twenty days away from here. What is it doing so far away from its people?” Ninto wondered.
Ani rippled a pattern of purple clouds. “Who knows?”
“Well, let’s try to convince it to come back with us for a while. We can’t do anything until after Ilto dies. Then we’ll find a way to take it back to its people.”
The rain clouds were beginning to build for the afternoon downpour by the time all the explanations were finished. Out of respect for the creature’s reluctance to climb, they walked back. It was a long, weary trip, and Ani was relieved when they climbed up into a fruit tree at the end of the day for dinner. Ani showed the new creature how to pick fruit while Ninto went hunting. The elder returned an hour later with a necklace of small birds hanging limply around her neck. She held them up.
“It was the best I could do,” she said, browning apologetically. “Everything else was protected.”
“It’s a thin time of year to be out in the forest,” Ani agreed. It was going to be a meager meal. Ani set about plucking the birds. To her surprise, the new creature ate only one of the birds, and that with visible distaste. It handed the rest to Ani and Ninto.
