by Amy Thomson
The performers from the village of Narmolom shuffled in and began a rhythmic high-pitched chattering, backed up by the shimmer of the rattles on their ankles and arms. Anito glanced, over at Miato. He was watching the dancers intently. Usually he led them, but this year his injury prevented him from dancing. Miato’s leg was healing well—already his ankle and foot had grown long enough to reach the ground—but he still needed a crutch. It would be half a month before the bones and tendons were strong enough for normal use.
The dancers began slapping their hands against their thighs, welcoming the lyali-Tendu performers as they waddled in. They knelt in the sand, their wet skin gleaming in the faint light of the glows. A wash of brilliant blue flared on their bodies in perfect unison. The Narmolom performers turned completely black. Green splashes exploded all over their bodies as they chattered and rocked back and forth, nearly invisible except for the splashes of color. The lyali-Tendu performers responded with green and pink flares of approval and excitement. The dancers from Narmolom picked up the sea people’s patterns and echoed them. This began a long improvisational call and response between the two groups which built slowly into a crescendo of movement, music, and color. The performance glided slowly to a gentle rising and falling flare accompanied only by the mournful piping of shell horns. Then it faded away to silent stillness.
The watching audience rippled wildly azure and deep green in approval. “The story, the story, tell us the story,” they said over and over again, in big bold patterns. Ukatonen stood up and walked to the center of the ring formed by the performers and the audience. Narito, the chief of the lyali-Tendu, waddled up to join him. The assembled land and sea people exploded in applause.
Anito looked away, overcome by memories. Almost as long as she had been coming here, her sitik had played the part of the ruwe-Tendu in this quarbirri. Even after all this time, it was hard to see someone else in Ilto’s place.
Ukatonen blew another long, mournful note on the shell horn, and Narito responded with a run of notes on her flute. The drummer beat out a deep thundering rumble on the log-drum, and the quarbirri was formally begun. The familiar story unfolded again, in music, dance, and pattern. The first land Tendu’s attempts to live in the sea were simultaneously acted out and narrated in stylized skin speech by Ukatonen. His style was very old, very traditional, in keeping with his status as enkar, but within the ancient framework Anito could see movements, patterns, and turns of phrase that were startlingly new and original. Clearly Ukatonen was a master of the quarbirri.
Narito responded to the challenge of Ukatonen’s impressive performance with grace and power. She acted out the role of the sea and its creatures, testing the Tendu’s ability to live in the sea. Anito glanced at Eerin and Moki. They were completely absorbed in the quarbirri. Eerin had her talking stone out and was making a picture of the entire performance.
She had seen Eerin do this before, making pictures of conversations, and then watching them over and over again. Eerin claimed that this helped her learn the language, and that these recordings would help her people understand what the Tendu were saying. What would her people make of this quarbirri? How much of this stylized skin speech did Eerin understand?
A ripple of regret ran down Anito’s back. She felt sorry for the new creature. She was blind to the nuances of style and technique that made this quarbirri so wonderful.
The performance reached its conclusion, the establishment of trading between the lyali-Tendu and the ruwe-Tendu. Ukatonen and Narito grasped each other’s arms and danced in a circle, a movement symbolic of linking and harmony. Then each of them drew someone else into their dance. The circle grew until everyone on the beach was a part of it, even Eerin. They drew together, crooning rhythmically, and knelt in the sand. Dancing merged into a giant linking. Anito could taste the saltier blood of the lyali-Tendu merging with the sweet familiarity of Narmolom.
Juna watched in amazement as the dancers exploded with color and motion. She fumbled for her computer, configuring it into a video recorder. The Alien Contact people were going to love this. Once the recorder was set up, she sat back and enjoyed the show. It seemed to be a meaningless display of color and motion. Occasionally she saw a wordlike pattern, but by and large this appeared to be the visual equivalent of scat singing, largely improvisational and abstract. The performance faded slowly to an end, and the Tendu audience exploded in ripples of visual applause that was nearly as beautiful as the performance they had just witnessed. The applause became a rhythmic pattern of words. They were asking for a story.
Ukatonen and one of the sea Tendu moved to the center of the circle. The audience and performers rippled with approval. Juna was struck by their silence. The only sounds were the faint noises of wind and surf, and the occasional click of a rattle as a dancer shifted position. She could hear the faint whirring of her computer’s recording lenses as they adjusted their focus.
Ukatonen blew a long, haunting note on a horn made from a spiraled shell. There was a deep rumbling from the big hollow log that served as a drum. One of the sea Tendu joined him. Then they began to dance, a stiff, stylized dance emphasizing the complex formal skin-speech patterns of the story.
The formal skin speech was hard for Juna to understand, but she recognized certain recurring words. They were echoed by the sea Tendu. The thread of the narrative passed back and forth between them in a visual call and response. The story was about the sea and the Tendu. Juna leaned forward, watching intently as the story unfolded. Was this some kind of origin myth? If this was about how the Tendu came out of the sea, it was being told backwards. As the narrative progressed, she realized that it was a story of the Tendu learning about the sea.
The story concluded with Ukatonen and the sea Tendu linking arms and dancing together. They began drawing others into the dance, forming a huge circle. Cool, moist hands swept her and Moki into the dance. It felt good to move after sitting for so long. Juna shrugged her shoulders, loosening her spine, and imitated their movements, crooning rhythmically. They knelt in the sand, swaying from side to side. Juna knelt with them, feeling their cool, clammy bodies brushing against hers. She felt a pinprick, and was swept into a link before she could do more than feel startled. She struggled in sudden panic. Then Moki was there with her, shielding her from the others in the link, giving her time to adjust. Once she was composed, Moki Jet more of the link filter through his shields, stopping as soon as Juna began to be concerned. She felt Ukatonen’s presence alongside Moki’s, guiding him and reassuring her.
Gradually, she began to feel the presence of the others outside Moki and Ukatonen. The spiky, salty taste of curiosity dominated the link. They wanted Juna to open herself to the villagers and the sea people.
Juna cringed against Moki and Ukatonen, terrified at the thought of strangers climbing through her most intimate feelings. They folded protectively around her. When she was calm they lifted their shields a bit, letting some of the group link filter through. When Juna began to panic, they tightened their shields again. Gradually, she relaxed into the link, letting more and more of it seep through the protective presences enfolding her. The link surrounded her like a warm sea. Moki, Anito, and Ukatonen buoyed her up, helping her learn to float in it. The link dissolved and she awoke on the beach, feeling tranquil and at peace with the world around her.
She got up and walked into the sea to wash away the sand sticking to her skin. The sea was phosphorescent tonight, glowing green as it washed around her. A green streak flashed by her. Juna drew her breath in, preparing to scream, when a lyali-Tendu surfaced beside her. She let out a shaky laugh as the sea Tendu flickered a greeting. She acknowledged its greeting and it dove beneath the surface with a flicker of amusement and swam away, leaving a glowing green streak of disturbed luminous plankton in its wake.
She took a deep breath, dove under the waves, and opened her eyes to a veil of luminous green. She drifted in the night sea, letting the green fire of the sea bum coldly on her skin. The link h
adn’t been that bad, not with Moki and the others protecting her. It had felt good, once she had managed to relax. The allu-a had made her feel like a part of something larger, as endless and alive as the sea or the forest. It hadn’t been a violation at all. She uncurled and reached for the surface, breathing in the sweet air. It wasn’t her world, and these were not her people, but still, the link had felt like coming home.
Juna swam back to shore, and rose from the sea, dripping green fire. She washed the salt and the phosphorescence from her body in a nearby stream of sweet water. Then she curled up beside Anito and the others and fell asleep.
Anito woke early the next morning. She drank and bathed in the stream, then stood on the beach looking out at the ocean, waves washing past her ankles. Today was her first mating. She was grateful for last night’s group linking, but although the lyali-Tendu were familiar to her as a group, they remained strangers as individuals. Mating season had always frightened her. Ilto became preoccupied and short-tempered. Once, when she was very young, Ilto mistook her for a competing male and snapped at her. He had immediately apologized, but memories of that moment still hurt. Would she be like that? She remembered the intensity of her accidental arousal and her failure to control herself.
She heard splashing footsteps behind her. It was Ukatonen. He brushed her shoulder with his knuckles.
“You are worried?” he asked her.
She flickered agreement.
“It’s always a little frightening before you become aroused. Once you’re in heat though, nothing else matters. You’ll be fine.” He held out a basket full of freshly caught fish. “A gift from one of your admirers. You need to eat well this morning. Mating is exhausting, and you won’t get a chance to eat later.”
Anito followed Ukatonen back to the nest. Eerin and Moki were busy helping Ninto prepare a huge breakfast.
“You have a lot of admirers, it seems,” Ukatonen told her. “All of this came from lyali-Tendu males.”
Anito ate until her stomach was stretched and tight. Ninto bundled up the least perishable leftovers in leaf wrappers and put them in a bag for Anito. She slung it over her shoulder with a flicker of thanks. The others escorted her to the beach, where Narito waited for the Narmolom females who were going to mate with the lyali-Tendu males.
Ninto gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze as Anito joined the others. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll enjoy it.”
Anito flickered acknowledgment. She swallowed; her throat was dry with nervousness. Ukatonen stepped forward and touched her shoulder.
“Since Narmolom does not yet have a chief elder, I will oversee the mating on behalf of the village,” he said.
Anito relaxed. Ukatonen would be there to look after her. It wouldn’t be so bad.
The lyali-Tendu males came out onto the beach and sat in a clump around Narito. The Narmolom females sat with Ukatonen. Each group linked. Anito could feel Ukatonen’s powerful presence among them, initiating their heat. She felt a sudden warmth flaring in her reproductive organs. It radiated outward to her skin as Ukatonen released them from the link.
Anito looked down. Her skin was a dull bronze, becoming brighter and more golden on her lower belly, flanks, and back. She glanced around her. The other females were the same color. The males were still caught up in their linking. There were at least three males for every female.
“We should invite them upriver to visit during mating season. Then we wouldn’t have to fight over the good males,” one of the other females remarked. It was Hanto. She had mated with IIto last season.
The other females flickered agreement.
“It’s too bad that the sea is so far away,” Yanito said. “It must be nice, having enough males to go around.”
“Then you should choose more male tinka for your bami,” Ukatonen told her.
“But female bami are so much more useful,” Barito remarked. “Their infertile eggs are such good food for the narey.”
“Besides,” Hanto put in, “it wouldn’t help us much. By the time any new bami are mature enough to mate, I’ll be long gone.”
“We always need enkar,” Ukatonen said. “Perhaps some of your elders with older male bami might consider leaving the village to become enkar.”
The others looked away, disturbed by the thought of leaving Narmolom, but unwilling to say anything that might upset the enkar. Anito brushed Ukatonen’s shoulder in sympathy. He was right, there were too few males in the village. It was something that the new chief elder would have to address.
“The lyali-Tendu are out of their link,” Hanto said.
The males had turned bronze too. Anito found her gaze resting on the golden patches on their lower belly and backs. The warmth inside her spread and intensified. She felt a sudden urge to get closer to the males. The intensity of it was a little frightening. She wanted to run, dive into the sea, feel it surround her as she plunged deep…
Narito beckoned them into the ocean. Anito restrained herself from running ahead, and followed Ukatonen and the others into the waves. The cool water felt good on her skin. Yellow and black fish scattered before her like a flock of frightened birds as she drove herself through the water. She dove deep, down to the rippled sandy bottom. Two sleek, powerful forms dove before her, displaying their brilliant gold patches. Anito shot toward the surface, emerging in a high, spectacular leap. The males flanked her. Two more joined them, and she found herself surrounded by brilliantly glowing males. She could taste their arousal on the water, sweet and peppery. It made her skin tingle. She looked down. Her skin was almost entirely gold now. Soon her eggs would be ready, and it would be time to mate. She sped up, diving deep, drawing the males down with her, feeling the water pressure against her ears, glorying in her strength and speed. Ripples of blue coursed briefly across her golden skin as she outdistanced*them. She exhaled and followed the silvery bubbles up, letting the males overtake her, teasing them with the nearness of her presence. The males twined around her. They leaped high out of the water, celebrating their excitement in a silvery shower of spray.
The males were all gold, and her skin tingled in response. One of them brushed up against her body. She dove again, a mating croon issuing from her throat. The water vibrated with the males’ response, and her arousal became a sudden flood of sexual heat. It overwhelmed her; she was helpless to stop it. She crooned again, glowing with the intensity of her desire. For a moment she understood the fear Eerin had felt about linking. Another body brushed hers, making her skin tighten at the base of her spine. She headed for the surface again. The males leaped around her, their golden skins brilliant in the sunlight. Her fear was drowned by a sudden eagerness. She let herself drift, back arched in readiness.
One of them clasped her, and she felt her back arch further in response. She everted her cloaca, felt the male’s cloaca touch hers, and the sudden warmth of his sperm flooding into her, clouding the water around them with a chalky, bitter, musky flavor, heightening her excitement. Strange new muscles she had never felt before began to contract, drawing the sperm further inside her, toward the cluster of waiting eggs. The male released her and she felt another one clasp her. Thought deserted her; she was consumed by instinct and arousal.
She mated again and again, not knowing how many males grasped her. It was dark when she emerged from the ocean, drained, hungry, and exhausted. Her back was sore from arching it. Her belly felt heavy, full of eggs and sperm. Her cloaca throbbed with a pleasurable ache. Some part of her still wanted to arch, and be clasped again, but the feeling receded as the cool night air chilled her darkening skin.
Ninto was waiting for her on the beach. She put her arm around Anito as she emerged from the ocean, supporting her all the way to the nest.
“I’m sorry I left your food behind,” Anito said as they passed the patch of churned sand where the females had waited.
Ninto rippled in amusement. “It would have only gotten in the way,” she said, “but you looked like you needed something to hold
onto this morning.”
“Where are Ukatonen and the others?” Anito asked.
“They’re sleeping somewhere else tonight. I thought you might like some time alone.”
Anito flickered her thanks. She did want to be alone to let the last remnants of her heat dissipate in sleep. So much had happened. She wasn’t ready for company, not until she had slept. Ninto unwrapped a package of fish eggs and seaweed and handed it to her. Anito took a huge bite.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” Ninto asked.
“Ask me tomorrow,” Anito said, chewing her food. “I’m too tired and hungry now to think straight.”
Laughter rippled across Ninto’s chest. “I know how you feel,” she said. “I once did a sea-mating, when I was young. It’s much more tiring than mating among the villagers, but it is a lot more intense.” Blue-grey nostalgia rippled briefly over her. “I enjoyed it, but I like mating with my own people better.”
A mist of regret clouded Anito’s skin. “I wish that I could have mated at Narmolom this time.”
Ninto brushed Anito’s shoulder with her knuckles. “Don’t worry, you’ll have many years to do that.”
Anito looked away, grey with sadness.
“What is it?” Ninto asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have that much time left in Narmolom. Ukatonen is going to take me away to become an enkar. I’ll have to leave Narmolom in a year or two.”
Ninto laid a hand on Anito’s arm. Her skin was still for a long moment, dulled with sadness.
“Would he— Would Ukatonen take me in your place?” she asked at last.
“No, Ninto,” Anito said, deeply moved by her tareena’s offer. “I couldn’t ask that of you. Besides, he wants me.”
