by Amy Thomson
“And if Moki dies?” Anito asked.
“Then I will follow him into death.”
Anito looked away. Death followed the new creature like a second shadow. She wished that Eerin had died before she had been found. It would have prevented so much pain.
She turned back to the enkar, so that he could see her words. “I’m sorry, en. I shouldn’t speak of such things.”
Ukatonen touched her shoulder. “You’re beginning to ask difficult questions. That’s good. You’re starting to think like an enkar.”
Anito looked down at the dark-green water swirling past the raft. She didn’t want to think about leaving the village.
“We’ll need to watch out for them once we reach the cataracts. Neither of them has made the trip before,” Anito said, changing the subject.
Ukatonen flickered agreement. “It will be especially hard for Moki. Without the reassurance of a link, he might panic.”
“I wish I understood why Eerin fears linking so much.”
“Why?” Ukatonen asked. He was fond of that word. He liked to make her explain everything she said. He said it taught her to think about thinking.
“If I knew why she was afraid, then maybe I could find some way to help Eerin past her fear.” A faint grey mist passed over Anito’s body like a sigh. “It’s so hard. Every time I think I understand Eerin, she does something strange and I realize I know nothing at all about her or her people. How can I manage an atwa I don’t understand, en?”
Ukatonen brushed her shoulder. “I know it’s difficult, kene, but I don’t think anyone could handle this situation any better than you have.”
Anito looked away; she could feel pride and embarrassment flaring on her skin. “Thank you, en.”
Ukatonen touched her shoulder. “Look,” he said, rippling with laughter. “Eerin’s caught a fish.”
Anito looked up as Eerin pulled a large fish from the water. She held it up, azure with pride. Anito turned deep green with approval. The other elders on the raft laughed at the new creature’s delight. Just then the fish gave a great heave, nearly slipping from Eerin’s grasp. Moki tried to help and the two of them fell back onto the deck of the raft, grappling with the thrashing fish, their bodies rippling with laughter. Anito could hear the loud choking cries that Eerin made when she was amused. Moki and Eerin got control of the fish and put it into a large openwork basket. They tied the basket to the raft and tossed it into the river to keep until dinner.
“A good teacher and a quick student are a fortunate combination,” Ukatonen said. “We’ll eat well tonight! Let’s go congratulate our fishermen.”
Ukatonen dove into the river, and Anito followed him. Together they swam for their raft. As they reached it, there was a cry from the one in the lead. A line of rafts had appeared ahead of them. Eager for a chance to trade, the rafts from Narmolom began sculling to catch up to them. Ninto seized the steering oar, seeking the fastest water to push them along. Anito grabbed an oar and added her strength to Ninto’s. Eerin and the others followed suit.
The two villages’ rafts merged into one large fleet. There was much cheerful shuttling back and forth as elders from the two villages began to dicker and trade. A large knot of curious strangers formed around Eerin, exclaiming in amazement at this flat-faced, small-eared giant. Moki intervened protectively between the strangers and his sitik, provoking waves of amusement from the strange elders. They began to tease Moki. Anito moved to stop them, but Ukatonen held her back.
“Wait, let’s see how Eerin handles this.”
Eerin stepped forward. “It’s all right, Moki. They’re only curious. My name is Eerin, and this is my bami, Moki. I come from very far away. The people of Narmolom found me and sheltered me when I was lost in the jungle. You may look at me all you want, but please don’t link with me.”
Anito’s ears lifted. Eerin was doing very well.
Eerin motioned Moki back and stepped into the knot of curious strangers. She let them examine her hands and feet, gently but firmly removing their hands when she didn’t like what they were doing. Moki stood by, looking on anxiously.
At last Eerin looked at Anito and Ukatonen. They moved forward to fend off the curious strangers, diverting attention away from Eerin. Soon the talk changed from the new creature to trading.
Eerin and Moki went off to one of the outer rafts to recover from the onslaught of curiosity. When Anito glanced up from her dickering she saw Moki requesting allu-a, his skin dull blue-grey with longing. Eerin shook her head, flickering negation, and reached out to hold Moki. He shrugged away from her touch and dove into the river.
Concern flowed across Anito’s back. Something must be done, and soon, about Eerin’s fear of linking. She left off her trading, and went over to Eerin and touched her on the shoulder.
“Your bami needs you,” Anito said when Eerin looked up. “His need goes deeper than skin hunger.”
“I’m doing the best I can,” Eerin replied.
Anito shook her head and walked back to her trade goods. Clearly Eerin didn’t understand what she was trying to tell her; she would have to find some other way to explain it to her.
That night, after the feasting and trading was done, Anito wandered back to their nest site. The strangers’ curiosity about the new creature had proved profitable. She had made some good trades. Moki was sitting up, watching Eerin sleep. Anito brushed her knuckles across his shoulder as she sat down beside him. He leaned against her for a moment, seeking comfort, then shifted so that they could talk.
“Why won’t Eerin link with me?” he asked, his words glowing orange with anxiety in the darkness. “Am I bad?”
“No, little one. I’ve watched you with Eerin. You’re a good bami. It isn’t you, Moki. Eerin’s afraid of linking—with you, with me, with anyone.”
Moki’s skin flared pink in surprise, then dimmed into wordlessness. The fireflies flashing in the surrounding trees reminded Anito of half-formed words.
“Why?” Moki asked, after a long stillness.
Anito rippled a weary shade of uncertainty. “If I knew, perhaps we could teach her not to be afraid. Eerin’s not a Tendu, Moki. It will be hard for you, being her bami. That’s why Ukatonen is helping her with you. Link with him, Moki, let him teach you. He is of your people, Eerin is not.”
“I understand. I do link with him, but he’s not …” Moki shook his head. He was already picking up many of Eerin’s gestures. “He’s not Eerin. She is my sitik, not Ukatonen. I need her.”
Anito put her arm around him, knowing that the gesture would do little to soothe him. Moki’s need went deeper than skin hunger. Anito remembered the time that Ilto had gotten hurt while hunting. It had taken him three days to get home. She was frantic with need by the time he returned. She had been his bami for several years, long enough that the urgent need for linking had passed. Moki had gone for nine days without linking. This little one was as tough as stonewood to endure such isolation for so long. Eerin had chosen better than any of them knew.
“I’ll talk to her, Moki. I’ll try to explain how important it is, but it might not help.”
Moki looked away for long moment. “Thank you, kene,” he said, his words dim and muddied by emotional turmoil.
The next morning they arose before dawn in order to be on the water at first light. It was important to reach the cataracts early in the day so that they could make it through before night fell. Anito checked the lashings on the raft, making sure they were tight. She didn’t want her raft coming apart in the middle of the cataracts.
A touch on her shoulder startled her. It was Ninto and Baha.
“Are they ready for this?” Ninto asked, gesturing with her chin at Moki and Eerin.
“I hope so. We’ve shown them what to do. Whether they can remember it when we pass through the cataracts is another thing entirely. It is kind of you to accept two such inexperienced people as your crew.”
“We could hardly split up a newly joined pair like that, could we?
Besides, I also have you and Ukatonen with me, and that makes up for a great deal.”
“Yes, but—”
“You are also my tareena. Our sitik asked that I look out for you.”
Anito looked away for a moment, a brilliant, wordless flare of emotions playing over her skin.
When she looked back, Ninto offered her wrists. They linked, mingling their feelings—pride, shame, their love for their shared sitik, and their grief at his death.
When they emerged from the link, Ninto gave Anito’s shoulder a squeeze and turned to see to the raft. No words were necessary between them after such a sharing.
Anito glanced up at the brightening sky. It was time to be going. She helped Ninto push the raft off into the river, then hauled herself aboard. Ninto swung up on the other side as Anito picked up a pole and began to push. Moki and Eerin fended the raft off from the flooded treetops with long poles as they made their way into the main channel.
A flock of brilliant red gwais burst from a treetop ahead of them, honking loudly. Anito looked after the birds wistfully. One of them would have made a nice breakfast, but there was no time for hunting today. They would have to make do with dried provisions and fruit. She pulled several ripe ooroo pods from a vine as they passed by, and consoled herself by popping a couple of their hot, peppery seeds into her mouth.
The current grew swifter as the morning wore on and the banks of the river drew closer together. Anito nervously checked and rechecked their cargo, making sure it was lashed down tight. The channel through the cataracts was narrow and unforgiving. A mistimed move by a crew member could flip the raft, or pull it down into a whirlpool. She glanced at Eerin. Would she make it through the cataracts without panicking?
They neared the rapids shortly after noon. Yiato, their best river pilot, signaled that they would stop to take a look at the rapids before going on. Anito was glad that she was leading them through the cataracts. Yiato was one of the oldest remaining villagers, and would have been a prime contender for chief elder if she hadn’t removed herself from consideration. It was a shame; she would have been an excellent leader. Ukatonen had asked Yiato to reconsider, a sign that he thought very highly of her.
Yiato and her bami, Dalo, hiked along the sheer cliffs along the river’s edge, vanishing around the curve of a rock wall. The villagers waited tensely for her return. The first cataract was always the hardest. There were rougher stretches of the river, but this cataract was the first test of the rafts and their crews. Would the rafts hold together? Were the crews ready?
Yiato returned sooner than expected. The villagers crowded around her, purple shadows of curiosity boiling over their skin.
“There was a rock slide about ten li down the path,” she told them. “I couldn’t get around it. The water is high and very fast and most of the worst rocks are hidden, so you must watch the water carefully. From what I remember, it’s best if you stay to the right around the big rock with the lovi tree on it.”
Yiato held out her arms. It was traditional for the entire village to link together before the major rapids. Linking bound the village into a cohesive, harmonious unit. Out on the river, where lives depended on split-second timing, it was essential that the villagers knew what each member would do and when. That feeling of being part of a larger whole always gave Anito confidence and courage. She would need it now. She glanced anxiously at Eerin and Moki. Would they panic in the midst of the raging river, endangering them all?
Anito reached to include Eerin in the link, but the new creature shook her head and slid out of the forming circle. Moki looked after Eerin, his skin blue-grey with longing. For a moment it seemed as though he would slip away and follow Eerin, but Ukatonen took his hand and they joined the link.
Anito entered the link, feeling the familiar presence of the other villagers. United, Anito knew that they would be stronger than any river. The powerful presence of Ukatonen joined the link, making their united strength even greater. Then she felt the new, uncertain presence of Moki, aching with bitter, salty need and longing. The protective warmth of the village surged to enfold him, to dissolve his pain in the comfort of their presence. Moki’s pain eased, but never vanished. It tainted the link, an irritant, like a piece of grit in a bowl of seaweed, or a buzzing fly, keeping the village from achieving total unity.
Slowly the group link separated into subgroups and affinities, then separate crews, and finally family units of bami and sitik. Anito found herself linked with Ukatonen and Moki. Moki’s pain flared again with painful intensity. They attempted to reassure him, but he remained inconsolable. At last, defeated, they broke the link.
Eerin stood waiting by the raft. Anito repressed a sudden surge of anger at the new creature. If only she could make Eerin understand how much pain she caused Moki, and through Moki, the entire village. If only— A flicker of irritation flared on her spine. “If only” never accomplished anything. As soon as they were settled for the night, she would speak to Eerin. Her refusal to link with Moki affected the balance of the whole village. It could no longer be tolerated.
Anito used her anger to help push the raft off the beach. She swung aboard, grasping her oar, rowing the boat into the swift, powerful current. The river banks rushed by as the river sped up. She heard the rapids ahead, a steady, rising whisper. Moki stared apathetically at the deck in front of him, his oar ignored. She nudged him with a foot.
“Wake up!” she told him. “It’s rough ahead.”
Anito hauled on her oar, holding the raft straight as they shot through a narrow passage between two rocks. The river rounded a sharp bend and a roaring stretch of white water surged toward them. They shot into it, and Anito’s attention was taken up with steering between huge waves and fangs of black rock. A huge boulder appeared suddenly behind a standing wave. They pulled left, just missing it, then banged into a hidden rock that turned them crossways to the current.
Moki stared at the wall of water rushing toward him. The oar was torn from his grasp and he was swept up against the bow railing. Anito watched helplessly, straining her oar against the full might of the river to turn the raft off the rock. If she tried to help him, they would all be lost. Finally, the raft turned with a huge, grinding shudder and was swept off the rock and into the rapids. Eerin managed to grasp Moki’s arm, when another wave crashed across the bow, tearing Moki from her grasp and sending the bami sliding back across the deck, crashing into the stern. The raft banged into anether rock. A sudden surge of water swept Moki into the raging rapids.
Eerin cried out, and reached after him as the raft slewed against another submerged rock.
Anito nudged Eerin with her foot. “No!” she said in bold red-orange patterns, outlined in black. “Row now, or we all die!”
Eerin grasped her oar and pulled hard. The raft heaved off the rock. Moki’s head bobbed up in a sudden surge ahead of them and then vanished. They shot forward around a cluster of boulders. Moki appeared again, to the right of the main channel, sheltering from the force of the current on the downstream side of a large rock. They pulled hard on the oars, trying to get close to him, but the river had them in its grasp and it swept them on past Moki and over the short, broad waterfall that marked the end of the rapids.
The raft struck the pool with jarring force. As soon as they got control of it in the quiet water below the falls, they pulled into an eddy beside the waterfall. Ukatonen grasped an overhanging branch, and pulled himself up into the trees beside the river. Eerin and Anito followed, leaving Ninto and Baha to steady the raft.
Moki huddled on top of a rock, a flaming orange spot of terror in the midst of the foaming white and green river. They watched from the tree-tops as a raft tried to steer toward him, but was pushed away by the force of the river. The remaining five rafts also tried to rescue the bami and failed; one nearly capsized in the attempt.
“He’s going to have to swim for it,” Ukatonen said.
Moki clung to the rock, small and helpless in the midst of the raging torren
t.
“He’ll never make it! He’ll drown!” Eerin exclaimed.
Anito looked startled by this. The least of Moki’s problems was breathing the oxygen-rich white water.
Then she realized that Eerin didn’t understand. She didn’t know that Moki was in more danger of being crushed against a rock, or getting eaten by one of the giant fish that waited below the rapids, than he was of being drowned.
“He won’t drown, Eerin,” Anito said. “He can’t drown. He can breathe the water through his skin.”
“But how can we get him out of there? He can’t get out by himself!”
“He may have to,” Ukatonen told her. “We can’t get a raft to him, and he’s too far out to reach by rope.”
Moki saw them and waved. He looked up expectantly, ears wide, asking for help and guidance.
Ukatonen shook his head. “You must swim,” he said in large patterns. “Try for the bank, just above the waterfall. We will be there to catch you.”
“Be careful!” Eerin added.
Moki nodded. “I go,” he said, his words barely visible against the intense orange of his fear.
He leaped into the river. They stared anxiously at the churning white water, waiting for him to emerge. Then Ukatonen grabbed Eerin’s arm, pointing with his chin.
“There!”
Moki’s limp form surged to the surface. They scrambled down to the bank, and reached for his body as it floated by. One arm trailed in the water, obviously broken. He was either unconscious or dead. Ukatonen’s fingers closed around one limp ankle and pulled him in.
They laid Moki gently down on the soft sand. His skin was torn and bruised; in places it resembled chopped meat. His arm was broken in a dozen places, but he still breathed. Eerin knelt by his head, making crooning noises.
Ukatonen looked at Anito. “Monitor me.”
