Drowning World

by Alan Dean Foster

  More supportive muttering echoed her statement as she slowly resumed her seat, but Naneci-tok noted an equal number of confused mumblings as well as unmistakable indications of outright dissent. As both began to quiet down, a singular presence slipped forward out of his chair. Unusually tall even for one of his kind, Aniolo-jat was a Yuiqueru with a growing reputation among the more radical elements of the Sakuntala. He had drawn considerable attention not only for his military prowess, demonstrated in the usual interclan battles, but also for a wiliness not usually attributed to mid-status chiefs who specialized in combat.

  Ears and eyes alert, he gazed silently around the assembly until he was satisfied that he had everyone's attention—or at least that of the nonsenile. He spoke softly and carefully, without any of the ground-scraping gestures or traditional howls that usually accompanied the assertions of a war chief. Naneci-tok was as intent on his words as any of her colleagues. Here was a kin brave and thoughtful. One any female would be glad to mate with and any warrior proud to follow.

  Without hearing a word, she had already come to the conclusion that he was very, very dangerous.

  His initial comments only reinforced her preliminary opinion: they were completely unexpected.

  “I agree with knowledgeable and wise Cecolou-tiu. Is folly to think we can kill some Deyzara and just push rest off our world.” Wide eyes and astonished murmurings from his supporters showed this was not what they had expected to hear from one of their most admired and aggressive colleagues. But such was the commanding power of Aniolo-jat's presence that none rose from their chairs to try to channel him. There was some violent swinging, however.

  The Yuiqueru's voice rose just enough to be heard over the chorus of creaking wood and quivering supports. “I have no more love for the hairless ones than any of you. But I am realist. I have made some study of politics of our new ‘friends' and benefactors, the Commonwealth. Its history shows it will tolerate some local fighting. But not killing of all one kind of species by another. They have special word for that. So . . . we may kill some Deyzara but not slaughter all.” His mouth twisted into the Sakuntalan equivalent of a sardonic smile. “I contain my unhappiness at this.”

  “What then we do, Yuiqueru Aniolo-jat?” asked one of the neutral members of the assembly.

  The war chief turned toward the speaker. In replying to her, he continued to address all of them. “We still fight. Planning been ongoing for some time now. Very soon all is readied. We pick careful which Deyzara to kill. Not wealthiest ones. Not technicians. We still need learn from them.” He turned slowly, trying to confront each one of his fellow chiefs individually. “Most Deyzara think they smarter than any Sakuntala. But we know we not stupid. Just some bit behind. We smart enough to learn, even from our enemies. We kill specific Deyzara. Kill some offspring just to show hint of irrationality, strike greater fear. Idea is to put Deyzara in position of permanent scaring. Not eliminate. Just render always inferior. If they always in fear of us, they always be willing accommodate whatever we ask.” Taking a mouthful of rain from the central column, he sprayed his open hands with it, held dripping fingers up for all to see. “Water runs. Fear clings. The Deyzara are naked. We will clothe them in fear.”

  Behind him, on the other side of the rain, Yeruna-hua stepped from his chair to speak. Brilliant pupils blazed, and the other Yuiqueru's yellow-and-black fur stood erect.

  “Aniolo-jat speaks thoughtful but speaks too much caution. I say forget Commonwealth. Not mind reaction of off-worlders.” He raised an arm high. “Kill every Deyzara! Kill them all!”

  The chant rose around the circle. But while spirited, it was far from universal. Aniolo-jat let it run its course before finally interrupting, having to raise his voice only slightly to do so.

  “A cubling may not always have what it wish for. In this new, wider world of stars and other beings that live around them, the Sakuntala are still cublings. The wise offspring watches, and learns even from parents it dislikes. It is the foolish one who bravely steps off the branch and into waters of Viisiiviisii, to swim boldly—until is taken by a giimatasa.”

  It was an image burned into the memory of every Sakuntala. The wild swirl of water, the helpless cries of the trapped, the inability to do anything but watch until the doomed disappeared into the depths: no one, not even a Hata, was immune to such a possible fate—or the memory of it. When it was quiet again, Aniolo-jat resumed speaking.

  “We could possible kill most Deyzara and see rest flee into sky. But then what happen?” Wrapping his tongue several times around his face, he briefly covered his eyes. “Commonwealth do one of several things. Punish us.”

  “Not afraid of humans!” Yeruna-hua made a challenging cracking sound with his own fully extended tongue, snapping the tip like a whip. “Humans small and weak. They have cubling tongues, and they slip and fall from trees and walkways like legless shumai. My young ones strong enough to rip off their arms.”

  “Heesa, that is so. But not all strength is in arms and tongues. Humans have better weapons than Sakuntala.”

  “Not anymore!” shouted someone Naneci-tok could not identify. “We have them now also. Buy and trade for them. For ‘protection' from Viisiiviisii and for ‘hunting.' ”

  “We do have them,” Aniolo-jat readily agreed. “And from our other sources. But still not so many as humans do. And if necessary, they have bigger weapons they can bring to Fluva. I have learned of these things. They have machines that can find person in middle of night, in depths of Viisiiviisii. They can hear sound of talking from ship in sky. We learning of these things and how use them—but we still not have all, or enough. Someday, heesa, but not yet.

  “Besides, are other punishments humans can use. We do this to all Deyzara, maybe humans just go away.” Listening closely, Naneci-tok admired how the Yuiqueru's shrewdness came into play. “Commonwealth go away, Fluva and Sakuntala revert to living in stick-and-sap houses in trees.” Reaching to his waist, he tapped his small communicator. “How many here want to go back to talking with howler drums? How many like watch vit recordings? How many getting rich trading with and working for humans? No Commonwealth—no wonderful technology toys. No money.”

  It hit home, she saw clearly. Anyone could rouse a crowd against the Deyzara. It took a chief with a mastery of both warcraft and wordcraft to make the often fractious Sakuntala listen. Every chief present in the High House knew that being in the Commonwealth offered advantages too great to abandon.

  “What about our culture? What will become of the Sakuntala?” another chief asked, almost plaintively.

  “We will keep that which makes us what we are.” Aniolo-jat spoke with conviction. “We will take what we wish from Commonwealth. But to do so we must make sure Deyzara are kept down. They must agree to set of demands. Foremost important, they must agree to limit their breeding. Fluva must stay forever in dominion of the Sakuntala.” A loud chorus of “Hauea!” underlined this declamation. This time, Naneci-tok noted, the response was nearly universal.

  “We must do this without bring Commonwealth retribution down on us. Especially on us personally.” His ears flicked out to the sides in an expression of knowingness. “And as you know, we now have friends who have agree to help us.”

  No one would disagree with the Yuiqueru's evaluation, she knew. There was too much potential individual wealth at stake. Among the Sakuntala themselves, alliances and treaties and declarations were always shifting. To get the people to do anything in concert was historically difficult. In that, she knew, lay perhaps the more formidable weapon possessed by the Deyzara. The trunked ones knew that the Sakuntala were as likely to fight one another as they were to do battle with any outsiders.

  Aniolo-jat seemed to have it all figured out. Of course, if even a few of the Deyzara decided to fight back, using those same Commonwealth weapons that had been spoken of so admiringly, then Sakuntala also would die. And if some of the humans chose to aid their embattled Deyzara associates, that would mean more de
ath still. But death in combat was no stranger to the Sakuntala. It was part of their culture—far more so than it was of the Deyzara's.

  The human reaction remained the principal unpredictable element. How would the Commonwealth government on Fluva react to an attempt to minimize forever the influence of the local Deyzara? Would they interfere at all? As the wily Aniolo-jat had already pointed out, Commonwealth money and goods were too important to risk losing. The other variable was the reaction of the clans. How closely would traditional rivals and competitors cooperate in an attempt to get rid of the Deyzara? And for how long?

  And exactly who were these new “friends” the cunning Yuiqueru had spoken of?

  Too much was at stake to leave to chance. The more she struggled to reconcile Aniolo-jat's seductive words with what she felt to be right, the harder the veins in her ears throbbed. Could a decision on so weighty a matter be made so soon? Today, even? She wished fervently for wise personal counsel. But her mother was dead. She was the counsel, now. A look cast in Cecolou-tiu's direction brought no relief. The aged Hata had fallen asleep.

  A sudden thought gave her hope. “Before making any decision here, I would wish us to hear from the learned Jemunu-jah.” The reaction from the assembly showed that even those who most strongly supported Aniolo-jat recognized the name. Though Jemunu-jah was not even a Hata-nua, his reputation was known to even visiting chiefs. Even the bellicose Yeruna-hua grunted considerately.

  “Ah, Jemunu-jah,” Aniolo-jat murmured in a way Naneci-tok did not like. “The famous, the clever, the hardworking Jemunu-jah. The Jemunu-jah who has been well schooled in Commonwealth ways. I, too, recognize the extent of his knowing. I, too, would desire hear his opinions on this so very important matter.” The Hata-yuiqueru's ears dipped forward in a gesture of sadness and regret.

  “Distress-saying, there a problem. Jemunu-jah is gone away for a while just now.”

  “Gone away?” blurted a minor Hata-niu. “Gone away where and how?”

  “The human Hata female Matthias ask for Sakuntala help in find one of their own who gone lost in southern Viisiiviisii.” He turned a slow circle. “You all know that kind crazy-person human, go out by self or as couple to collect stinking stuff that Commonwealth tanasuas take apart to make medicine and other things.” He lowered his voice significantly. “Jemunu-jah not go alone, though. He make traveling with help . . . of Deyzara.”

  The last was too much for Naneci-tok. The imputation inherent in Aniolo-jat's tone could not be allowed to stand unchallenged. Rising from her chair, she did not still its swinging but let it continue to rock back and forth behind her as an indication of her distress.

  “I know well Jemunu-jah. He among smartest of all not-Hata. Heesa, he work close and well with Deyzara. Also humans. Jemunu-jah work well with all and any who respect his smartness. He is Sakuntala ear to toe, proud and true.” Turning slightly, she focused her attention on the patiently waiting Aniolo-jat. “Who send Jemunu-jah away into Viisiiviisii at this so important time?”

  “Why, human Hata Matthias specifically ask for best of local Sakuntala. Specifically ask for one who speak human lingua well. Specifically ask for one who can work with Deyzara. Who else so qualified but Jemunu-jah? Not worry about the skillful one. He return safe and soon.”

  Heesa-mu, she thought to herself—but not soon enough to participate in this debate and offer his opinion. Someone in the High House was being too clever by half, and she did not think it was wise but dozy old Molavil-isi, who had barely stirred during the course of the discussion.

  Yeruna-hua's tongue flicked out to slap the wooden floor—a strong sign of disgust. “What could that one have to say that make any matter? He is with humans all time. Work with humans, talk with humans, help humans.” Piercing eyes blazed. “This one think that oh-so-clever Jemunu-jah maybe not so Sakuntala proud and true anymore. This one think maybe he now become very tall, very good-hearing, good-seeing, nice-pattern-fur human!”

  Attempting to counter a serious accusation on behalf of one not present to defend himself, Naneci-tok saw her incipient defense drowned out by the perplexed muttering of her fellow Hatas. At the same time, she found herself wondering if the combative outbursts of Yeruna-hua arose from within his own heart or if he was acting as a spear point for the more “reasonable” Aniolo-jat. The Sakuntala were masters of shifting alliances. But she could not be certain. Either each Hata was honestly propounding his own agenda or else they were displaying the same kind of shrewdness Aniolo-jat attributed to the absent Jemunu-jah.

  It might not have mattered even if that praiseworthy individual had still been in Chanorii and available to address the High House. He was not a Hata and unless invited to do so beforehand could not speak at a traditional assembly such as this one even to defend himself.

  A young and neutral Hata-niu rose somewhat timidly from her chair. “If we do move against Deyzara as Aniolo-jat proposes, someone like Jemunu-jah who work close with both humans and Deyzara could be caught in middle.”

  “Heesa-mu,” muttered the relentlessly belligerent Yeruna-hua, “that would be serious loss indeed.”

  As expected, Aniolo-jat took a far more rational view of the possibility. Whether he believed it or not, Naneci-tok reflected, was another matter entirely.

  “Jemunu-jah is skillful enough to take care of self. Time here-now is for worry about future of all Sakuntala—not individuals.” He turned another slow circle. “I say to you, my fellow Hatas, that all future of our people will be decide here today, and that we must make right decision.” He paused for emphasis. For a long moment, the liquid percussion of rain spilling through the central opening of the High House was the only sound in the circular chamber.

  “Otherwise, we and our cublings can forward look to long lives of prosperity and good health as part of this great star-place Commonwealth—working low jobs for Deyzara. Where is the mula in that?”

  As an appeal to reason as well as emotion, Aniolo-jat's speaking clearly moved the Hatas. Others spoke after him—some to agree, others to dispute. Naneci-tok used her chance to point out once again that moving against the Deyzara might well bring the Sakuntala into direct conflict with the Commonwealth and its superior technology. Her words were listened to by most. But not all. Yeruna-hua and his own small circle of virulent supporters were as ready to kill humans as they were Deyzara. The amount of support that showed itself for this extreme position frightened her. By contrast, Aniolo-jat appeared reasonable and almost restrained.

  Which was probably the idea, she knew.

  When the vote was finally taken, it was still raining. The sun did not show itself from behind the clouds, as it sometimes did in the evening. This was taken as a good sign by Manarapi-vea; he spread his arms and ears wide to intone the ceremony of parting. More katola was passed around, followed by bites of hot pipa fruit that enhanced the katola's narcotic effect. The Hatas weaved and chanted in their chairs, their multiple swinging disturbing the column of rain in pleasing arcs.

  Through the relaxing hallucinogenic haze induced by pipa and katola Naneci-tok tried to sort out the import of what had been decided. Her own people would not stand by as events unfolded. They could not, lest they be subjected to more than approbation by the other clans. They would join Aniolo-jat and Yeruna-hua and the others in a coordinated attack against preselected Deyzara targets. The aim would be to “persuade” the Deyzara to agree to the combined Sakuntala demands before the humans could decide to intervene. If this could be done, even an awakened Cecolou-tiu agreed, then everything the cunning Aniolo-jat predicted might well come true, at small sacrifice to the Sakuntala. The alternative proposals put forth by Naneci-tok and others among the Hatas who believed in equal treatment for all, even Deyzara, were politely but firmly voted down.

  It was to be war, then. No, not war, Aniolo-jat insisted. A quick, overwhelming bite, like a nougusm striking a bloated laja, then stepping back to watch its prey collapse from the shock. It would all be over before the distant
Commonwealth tribes could make up their minds what to do about it. With the aims of the Sakuntala achieved, these tribes would accept the result. Of this Aniolo-jat was certain. While the Sakuntala knew little of other Commonwealth peoples, he had seen enough of humans to know how their system functioned.

  As for Yeruna-hua and his ilk, she doubted they even cared about the underlying causes of the forthcoming course of action. They just wanted to kill Deyzara, preferably as many as possible. And perhaps even a few humans, for the mula that would accrue to whoever did the killing.

  This not a good time, she told herself when she finally rose shakily from her chair to exit the High House. Her own advisers and clan would be waiting anxiously to hear the details of what had transpired within. She tried to convince herself that Aniolo-jat was right, that the Sakuntala had on this day decided on the correct course of action to ensure their control of their world far into the future. But she was far, far from sure that was the case. Extended to the sides, her ears seemed to catch strange sounds at play. The pipa-katola combination working its magic, she decided.

  Not all of her own people would be disappointed in the decision taken by the Hatas. Many were of like mind with Aniolo-jat and even Yeruna-hua. It was her task to lead them, to advise them, but not to control them.

  If only Jemunu-jah had been present to offer the benefit of his knowledge. Away helping the humans to find a lost one of their own, Aniolo-jat had told the assembly. For a brief moment the katola fog cleared. Had the human Hata Matthias truly asked for Jemunu-jah specifically? Or had his name been put forth as the most suitable candidate available by another party? If so, who was the other party, and why had they specifically proposed Jemunu-jah to go?

  She thought she might ask that question of Aniolo-jat, who was nothing if not responsive to questions. But he was not nearby and she was very tired. She decided she would ask it of him tomorrow.