by Amy Thomson
Anito broke down the proteins that Eerin’s strange body reacted to so strongly, and filtered out the accumulated poisons. Then she turned to rebuilding Eerin’s muscles and replenishing her energy reserves.
Ukatonen broke the link.
“You were giving too much of yourself, kene,” Ukatonen told Anito. “Let the creature’s body repair itself.”
“But she won’t be able to work tomorrow,” Anito argued.
“She’s earned a day off,” Ukatonen said. “If Lalito protests, then I will call her leadership into question. I may do it anyway. She lacks harmony.”
Anito’s ears spread wide in surprise. She had never heard of an enkar actually questioning a village chief’s leadership, except in ancient tales.
“Would you really do that, en?” she asked.
Ukatonen gestured with his chin at Eerin, lying unconscious on her bed. “Lalito nearly killed Eerin with this foolish race.”
“But, en, it was I who spoke first. I goaded the villagers into it. This race is my fault.”
“Lalito allowed her villagers to make fun of Eerin; she even encouraged it,” Ukatonen said. “It is one thing to be angry before restitution is agreed on. It is another to maintain a grudge this way after a judgment has been made. It shows no respect for you, and no respect for Eerin. It shows even less respect for the enkar whose judgment Lalito agreed to abide by. If this agreement doesn’t work out I will be obliged to die. She is putting my life at risk with her lack of harmony.”
“No, en!” Anito said.
“It won’t go that far,” Ukatonen assured her. “Lalito lost a lot of face today. She would lose even more if she refused to grant a favor to Eerin after such a heroic performance. It will take several days for the villagers to prepare the soil that Eerin and the bami cultivated today.”
A soft, chirring call interrupted their conversation. They looked up. The two bami who had raced against Eerin were standing in the doorway, with their sitiks.
“Please excuse us, en, kene,” one of the bami said in simple, humble speech. “My name is Ini, my sitik is Arato, and this is Sarito and his bami, Ehna,” he said, gesturing at the other bami and her sitik. “We didn’t mean to interrupt, but we wanted to see if the new creature was all right.”
“Please come in,” Ukatonen said. “Eerin worked so hard that she made herself sick. She’s asleep now. She’ll be fine in a couple of days.”
“I’m glad to know that,” Sarito said as they entered the room and sat down. “If there’s anything we can do—”
“Thank you,” Anito said. “It’s very kind of you to be concerned.”
“Why—” Ehna said, then stopped, embarrassed.
“What is it, Ehna?” Ukatonen asked in soft, gentle hues. “It’s all right.”
“Why did the new creature work so hard that she threw her body out of harmony?”
Ukatonen looked at Anito, ears raised questioningly.
“That’s a good question, Ehna,” Anito replied. “We still don’t understand the new creature very well. I think that she thought it was very important to win the race. I know she wanted the people in the village to treat her better. Perhaps she thought that winning the race would help.”
“She’s very strong,” Ini conceded. “But—”
“Yes?” Ukatonen prompted.
“But maybe not very smart, to work that hard, and selfish, to ask you to repair her.”
“There are many things that Eerin doesn’t understand yet. She is like a new bami, still half-wild,” Ukatonen explained. “It will take time to bring her into harmony with us.”
“Eerin may not be very wise, but she is not stupid,” Anito said. “She learns quickly, and well, when she is given a task that she can perform.”
Ini held out the basket he was carrying. “We brought you a couple of ooloo, and some arika roots from the storeroom. Perhaps they will help Eerin recover more quickly.”
It was clearly a peace offering, and a generous one. Arika roots were a great delicacy this time of year. They would not be ready for harvest for another six months. These must have been the last of their supply. Anito was equally happy to see the ooloo; they had been under protection in Narmolom for the last several years, and it was her favorite kind of game.
“Thank you very much,” Ukatonen said as he accepted the gifts. “We were about to eat. Will you join us?”
It was not often that one got to eat with an enkar in private. Usually that privilege was reserved for the village chief and a few special cronies. The visitors accepted eagerly. Anito was worried that there wouldn’t be enough, but Ukatonen pulled out some preserved delicacies from the bottom of his pack, and Sarito and the others fetched honey, fruit, and fish. They ate well, and the party became quite cheerful.
“It will be hard,” Ukatonen said in rueful shades, “telling Lalito that Eerin will be unable to work tomorrow. She will not be pleased. I hope she doesn’t make us stay longer because of it. Anito needs to return to her village before the floods. We will have to hurry back as it is. Their village doesn’t have a chief, and Anito has asked me to help them decide who the new chief should be.”
Sympathy flared on the visitors’ chests.
“I don’t think that Lalito will protest,” Arato said. “Your new creature did four days’ worth of work today, and so did our bami. It’s a good thing that we have enough netting and leaves to protect the soil from the rains.”
“Some of the other elders are unhappy about the race,” Sarito told them. “The village lost much face today. They think Lalito is not acting wisely.”
“Has she been chief long?” Ukatonen asked as he finished off the last bite of fish.
“Only five seasons,” Sarito replied.
“It must have been hard for her,” Anito mused, “having all of this happen so soon after she became chief. My sitik was the chief elder of Narmolom. It isn’t an easy task, bringing so many conflicts into harmony.”
“She will learn, I’m sure,” Ukatonen said. “Batonen chose Lalito, and he makes good choices. This disaster would be difficult even for the best chief. Lalito cannot bring harmony to Lyanan by herself. The elders must disagree with her when she’s wrong, as well as support her when she’s right.”
Arato and Sarito flickered agreement. “We will try, en,” Sarito added.
“Thank you, kene,” Ukatonen said. He stood. “Your bami must be very tired.” He gestured with his chin at Ini, whose head kept dropping onto his chest as he dozed off.
The elders and their bami said their farewells and left. As soon as they were gone, Ukatonen leaned back against the wall, and shut his eyes. Anito was surprised at how exhausted and worn he looked.
“Good,” he said. “That was a good evening’s work. I think tomorrow will be easier.”
“You look tired, en. Is there anything I can do?”
Ukatonen flickered negation. “It’s been a long month, for me as well as for Eerin. I’ll be glad when it’s over.” He got up slowly, “I need a good night’s sleep.”
He burrowed into his bed. Anito sat up a little longer, looking at the sleeping forms of Eerin and Ukatonen. She was tired too. It would be good to be going home again. Narmolom, she thought to herself, picturing the village’s name-symbol in her mind. Once everything she knew and loved was there. Now she had traveled and the village seemed smaller, but it still held everything she loved. Almost everything. There was Ukatonen, who reminded her so much of Ilto. It was good having someone to teach her things. It gave her something familiar to cling to during the difficult transition to adulthood.
Anito crawled into bed. She fell asleep thinking of home.
Juna awoke in a bed of leaves. She shifted slightly, wincing at the pain in her back and shoulders, remembering the race. Had she won? Slowly, painfully, she sat up. She was alone. She hobbled over to the night-soil basket and used it, grateful for the chance to move her bowels in privacy for once. She picked up the water jug and drank deeply, then washed herself o
ff. Checking her computer for the time, she saw that she’d slept for more than sixteen hours. No wonder her stomach ached with hunger; she had eaten nothing but some kayu mush yesterday.
Anito and Ukatonen returned with full gathering bags.
“How are you feeling today?” Anito asked, setting down her bags and squatting to examine Juna.
“I hurt. Did I win?”
A gentle ripple of amusement crossed the alien’s skin. “Yes, by three hand-spans of length. You dug twice as much as they did, but they only measured length.”
“What do the villagers think?”
“They wonder why you work so hard. None of them would do such a thing to win a race. You nearly died last night.”
Ukatonen touched Juna’s arm. “Anito almost made herself sick trying to heal you.”
Juna looked at Anito in surprise. “I didn’t know you get sick from healing. I am sorry. Please forgive my ignorance.”
Anito turned magenta in puzzlement and surprise. “You not know?”
“My people not link. How I understand linking? I not do before.”
“One elder died saving your life,” Anito told her. “My sitik, Ilto, got sick from saving your life.”
Juna looked from Anito to Ukatonen and back, shocked at how much her life had cost these people. She remembered how thin and frail Ilto had been. She had been responsible for his illness, and the death of another elder. Yet the villagers had treated her with kindness. Anito had saved her life several times.
“Why?” she asked, fighting back tears of shame and regret. “Why are you so good to me after all the trouble that I have caused?”
Anito laid a gentle hand on her arm. “You were new, different. My sitik knew that saving you could kill him. It was time for him to die. He chose to save you even though it made him sick. He wanted to do a big thing before he died. Understand?”
“Not all, but I understand some. Are you angry with me?” Juna asked.
“I was,” Anito said, then looked away, suddenly dark grey, as sadness washed over her.
Juna touched Anito on the arm. The alien looked at her. “I understand. If it was me, I be angry too. Please tell me how I can make all this better?”
Anito shook her head. “You didn’t understand then. Is done. I not angry now.”
“I understand now. I not forget,” Juna replied. “Thank you.”
Ukatonen touched her arm and handed her a large red jellyfruit. “You need to eat now,” he said.
Juna tore a hole in the peel and sucked out the soft jellylike interior, straining the seeds out with her teeth. Juice rolled down her chin. She sucked the last of the sweetness from the seeds, and licked the inside of the inedible peel. With a ripple of amusement, Ukatonen tossed her another.
“You eat. You work too hard yesterday,” Anito said, handing her a leafy cone containing small pieces of raw meat mixed with some sort of gluey mush. Despite its daunting texture, it was delicious. They gave her a basket full of leathery brown globes, about three centimeters across. Eggs. Ukatonen picked one up, slit it open with a deft claw, and sucked out the contents, then handed an egg to Juna.
“Lalito brought these for you,” Ukatonen told her. “They’ll make you well more quickly. She«aid that you don’t have to work today.”
“Good,” Juna said, lavender with relief.
Juna regarded the raw egg in her hand. She couldn’t refuse to eat it, not without offending Lalito. She nipped a hole in the egg and sucked out its contents. There was a disturbing solidity to the yolk. Her teeth closed on something that crunched like gristle, and there was the sudden taste of blood in her mouth as she swallowed. There had been an embryo inside the egg, she realized, repressing the urge to gag.
Her revulsion must have appeared on her skin, because Anito leaned forward, skin ochre with concern. “Are you all right?”
Juna nodded. “We don’t—” She paused, searching for the right word. “We don’t eat eggs with young inside.”
Anito’s ears spread wide. “You don’t? That’s the best kind!”
“How you find eggs so new?” Ukatonen wanted to know.
“We don’t find them. We grow them,” she said, using a verb form for “grow” that applied to raising plants. She didn’t know if the aliens had any terms for raising food animals.
Ukatonen looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. Eggs are not from plants.”
“Eggs from birds,” Juna agreed. “We grow birds. Gather eggs.”
“How grow birds?” Anito asked.
Juna remembered the chicken farm on the satellite, the thick-legged birds, awkward and slow in the heavy gravity that they were kept in to make the shells thicker, the muscles meatier. Each bird in its own wire cage, looking ugly and vulnerable in the harsh glare of the sun tubes. She had gone there once, as part of a school trip. She had had nightmares about those chickens for almost a month afterward.
How could she explain the chicken farm to these aliens? Did they even understand the concept of a cage?
“It’s like narey. You grow narey in pool. We grow birds in boxes. You feed narey, we feed birds. You eat narey, we eat birds, and birds’ eggs. Understand?”
“How birds breathe in box?” Ukatonen wanted to know. “Air get bad.”
“We put holes in box. Box is open like this,” Juna explained, holding up a gathering bag and sticking her fingers through the mesh and wriggling them.
“Why you not hunt birds?” Anito.
“Growing them is easier than hunting,” Juna replied. “My people not have time to hunt.”
The ears of both aliens spread wide and they turned a deep, incredulous purple. They looked completely and suddenly absurd, like a matched pair of toy monsters. Juna fought back a smile and a ripple of amusement. It wouldn’t do to laugh at them.
“What your people do? Why not hunt?”
“We make things. Learn things,” she replied. “We play.”
She remembered a moment shared with Padraig, laughing at some joke, their eyes meeting in understanding and delight. She looked away, fighting back a sudden surge of loneliness. Oh God, she realized, Jive years without another human being…
A gentle hand touched her shoulder. Juna looked into Anito’s alien eyes. The Tendu was concerned about her. She fought back another rush of tears.
“I miss my people,” Juna said.
“I understand. It’s a long time since I see Narmolom. I miss my people also.”
Ukatonen touched her shoulder. “We not talk about your people anymore today. You rest. You eat. We go back to Narmolom soon.”
To Anito’s relief, their remaining time at Lyanan passed quickly and without incident. Some Tendu from the surrounding villages had come to watch the race, and they stayed to help finish preparing and planting the last bits of the burnt-over area.
The villagers’ manner toward Eerin had changed after the race. The cultivator had impressed them, even though her dogged persistence to win had not. Contempt and anger had changed to curiosity. They watched her, ears wide, flickering comments among themselves. Ini and Ehna congratulated her on winning. After that, some of the boldest bami came up and began to ask her questions.
Eerin spent her free time sitting with the bami, showing them her talking stone and learning new words. The elders watched in fascination, but hung back from the new creature, afraid of losing face.
Indeed, the last few days in Lyanan were so pleasant that Anito was almost sorry when it came time for the farewell banquet. Despite the devastation of its land, the village of Lyanan was able to produce a very creditable feast. There was a great deal of fresh ocean fish, honey, fruit, and a variety of pickled greens and fruit served over sprouting namman seeds, as well as bibbi and kiltani greens. There were several fruits that Anito had never seen before. Lalito made her a present of the seeds, to take back to Narmolom, with instructions on how to grow them.
Once the banquet was over, there was a long round of speeches. Lalito praised Ukatonen and Anito. S
he even had a few kind words for Eerin. Then other elders got up and made similarly complimentary speeches. Arato and Sarito were the only elders who had anything to say about Eerin, praising her strength and hard work. The eldest of the bami got up and presented finely woven carrying baskets to Anito and Ukatonen. Anito flushed a nostalgic blue-grey, remembering all the times that she had done this for guests visiting Narmolom.
From the elders Anito received a thick sheaf of yarram, a finely woven net, two large sealed gourds full of sea salt, and several smaller gourds containing salt-pickled fruit. Ukatonen received several new blowgun reeds, neatly coiled inside a large bamboo container, another container full of blowgun darts tipped with bird down, and a gourd of neatly packaged seeds, the product, Anito was sure, of the village’s finest trees.
Even Eerin received some gifts. Ini and Ehna gave her a large gathering bag, Arato gave her a small gourd of sea salt. Sarito came forward with a small hunting net. Then a tinka slipped out from the crowd, handed Eerin a coil of rope, and vanished before Anito could prevent Eerin from accepting it. It was a courting gift, something made by the tinka. By accepting it, Eerin had signaled her willingness to be courted by the tinka who had given it to her.
Irritation forked down Anito’s back. She would have to speak to Eerin about taking gifts from tinka. She should have done it sooner, but she was only now beginning to realize how dangerous Eerin’s ignorance could be. It was good that they were leaving tomorrow. She doubted that the tinka would leave the safety of the village and follow them through the jungle. A ripple of turquoise joy passed over her. Tomorrow they would be going home!
Chapter 12
Juna followed Anito and Ukatonen through the trees, her heart light with relief. Her first term of service at Lyanan was over, and she had managed to improve her standing in the eyes of the villagers. Her next visit would be easier. In spite of her difficulties, she was glad to have helped restore the forest.
Around mid-morning, they stopped to rest in a heavily loaded fruit tree. Juna helped them fill a gathering bag, and then they settled themselves against the trunk for a snack. This was another fruit new to Juna. It was long and green, with a thick inedible rind. Inside, the fruit was soft and mushy and tasted like chocolate-covered bananas with a hint of lemon.
