West of Eden

by Harry Harrison

  Kerrick could only gape in silence. The dock area was vast—yet was still crowded with Yilanè awaiting their arrival. Behind it rose the trunks of ancient trees, their branches and leaves high above seemingly touching the sky. The pathway leading from the docking area into the city was wide enough to drive an urukub down. The Yilanè that were crowding it now parted to let a small procession past. At its head were four fargi carrying a construction made of gently curved wood and hung with colored fabrics. Its function was revealed when the fargi placed it carefully onto the ground, then squatted beside it. A hand pushed the fabric aside and a Yilanè, resplendent with golden face coloring, stepped down to the ground. It was a figure that Vaintè instantly recognized.

  “Gulumbu,” she said with carefully controlled lack of emotion that allowed just a small measure of her distaste to show through. “I know her of old. So she is the one who now sits at Malsas<’s side. We will meet her.”

  They had disembarked and were waiting on the dock when Gulumbu walked slowly up. She made the humblest of greetings to Vaintè, acknowledged Etdeerg’s presence—and let her unseeing eyes move slowly past Kerrick.

  “Welcome to Inegban*,” she said. “Welcome to your home city, Vaintè, now builder of Alpèasak across the storm-filled sea.” Vaintè acknowledged this with equal formality.

  “And how fares Malsas<, Eistaa of our city?”

  “She has ordered me to greet you and take you to attend her in the ambesed.”

  While they talked the palanquin had been carried away. Vaintè and Gulumbu walked side by side instead, leading the procession into the city. Kerrick and Etdeerg walked behind them with the other aides, in silence for this was a formal occasion.

  Kerrick took it all in with widened eyes. Other vast walkways led from the one they were on, all crowded with Yilanè—and more than Yilanè. Small creatures with sharp claws and colorful scales darted through the crowds. Some of the largest trees they passed had steps worked into their bark, curving up and around to platforms above where other Yilanè, many of them with painted faces and bodies, looked down on the milling crowds. One of these tree-dwellings, larger than the others, had armed guards below. The Yilanè above looked out, moving about and twittering together in a manner that proved they could only have been males.

  Nor was there the dedication to work and the formality of talk that he knew in Alpèasak. Yilanè pointed rudely at him, and talked to each other coarsely about his strange appearance.

  And there were Yilanè of a kind he had never seen before, some only half the size of the others. They stayed together in groups, pressing themselves aside when other Yilanè passed, looking on with worried eyes, not speaking. Kerrick touched Etdeerg’s arm and indicated them questioningly.

  “Ninse,” she said, scorn in every motion. “Yileibe.”

  The unresponsive, the dumb ones. Kerrick understood that clearly enough. Obviously they couldn’t speak or understand what was said to them. No wonder they were unresponsive. Etdeerg would say no more about them and he put the matter aside for the moment with all of the other questions he was eager to ask.

  The ambesed was so large that the farthest side was hidden by the milling crowds. But they opened before the procession which passed through them to the sunny, favored wall, where Malsas< reclined with her advisors on a platform draped with more of the soft fabrics. She was resplendent with gold and silver paintings on her face and down her arms, curlicues of gold reaching down her waistless, ribbed body. She talked to an aide, appearing not to notice the procession until it was just before her, waiting that extra little moment to deliver not an insult, but a firm reminder of rank. Then she turned and saw Vaintè and welcomed her forward. A place was made at her side as they greeted each other.

  Kerrick was staring about at everything, taking little notice of what was being said, so was startled when two Yilanè approached and seized him by the arms. As they pulled at him he looked fearfully at Vaintè—who signaled him not to protest but to go with them. He had little choice. They pulled strongly and he allowed himself to be led away with Inlènu* walking dutifully after.

  Close to the ambesed was the doorway to a strange structure. There was no way to tell its size for it was hidden by the city trees. But panels of translucent chitin were visible between the trunks, stretching away to both sides. A solid-looking door of the same material was before them, without handles or openings in its surface. Still holding tight to his arm, one of the Yilanè reached out and squeezed a flexible bulb beside the door. After a short wait the door opened and a fargi looked out. Kerrick was pushed through the door with Inlènu* following after. The door closed behind them.

  “This way,” the fargi said, ignoring Kerrick and speaking to Inlènu*, then turned and walked off.

  It was most unusual. A short length of corridor made of the same chitinous material led to another door. Then another. The next chamber was smaller and the fargi stopped here.

  “Eye membrane over,” she said to Inlènu*, letting her own transparent nictitating membrane slide over her eyes. Then she reached out her hand, thumbs spread wide, and tried to place them on Kerrick’s eyelids.

  “I heard you,” he said, slapping the hand away. “Keep your dirty thumbs to yourself.”

  The fargi gaped, shocked at hearing him speak, and took a moment to recover. “Important that eyes be closed,” she finally said, then closed her own membranes and squeezed a bulbous red growth on the wall.

  Kerrick had just enough time to close his eyes before a rush of warm water showered down on them from above.

  Some trickled into his mouth, was burning and bitter, and he kept his lips clamped tightly closed after that. The spray stopped, but when it did the fargi called out “Eye . . .shut.”

  The water was replaced by moving air that quickly evaporated the water from their bodies. Kerrick waited until his skin was completely dried before he tentatively opened one eye. The fargi’s membrane had slipped back, and when she saw that his eyes were open she pushed through the last door and into a long low chamber.

  It was a complete mystery to Kerrick: he had never seen anything like it before. Floor, ceilings, walls, they were all made of the same hard material. Sunlight filtered through the translucent panels above and threw moving leaf patterns on the floor. Stretched along the far wall was a raised surface of the same material with completely unidentifiable objects upon it. Yilanè busied themselves with these things and took no notice of their arrival. The fargi left them, saying nothing. Kerrick could make no sense of any of it. Inlènu*, as always, cared not in the slightest where she was or what was happening. She turned her back and squatted comfortably on her thick tail.

  Then one of the workers noticed their arrival and drew the attention, in a most formal way, of a squat and solid Yilanè who was staring at a small square of material as though it had great importance. She turned and saw Kerrick, and stamped over to stand before him. One of her eyes was missing, the lid collapsed and wrinkled, and the remaining one bulged out strongly as though trying to do the work of two.

  “Look at this, look at this, Essag,” she called out loudly. “Look at what has been sent to us from across the sea.”

  “It is strange, Ikemei,” Essag said politely. “But it brings to mind another species of ustuzou.”

  “It does, only this one is not covered with fur. Why is that fabric draped around it? Remove it.”

  Essag started forward and Kerrick spoke in the most commanding manner.

  “Do not touch me. I forbid it.”

  Essag fell back while Ikemei called out with happiness.

  “It talks—an ustuzou that talks. No, impossible, I would have been told. It has been trained to memorize phrases, that is all. What is your name?”

  “Kerrick”

  “I told you. Well-trained.”

  Kerrick was growing angry at Ikemei’s firm wrongness of mind.

  “That is not true,” he said. “I can talk as well as you, and a lot better than the fargi tha
t brought me here.

  “That is hard to believe,” Ikemei said. “But I will assume for the moment that what you said was original and not a rote statement. If It is original—why then you can answer questions.”

  “I can.”

  “How did you arrive here?”

  “I was brought by Vaintè, Eistaa of Alpèasak. We crossed the ocean in an uruketo.”

  “That is true. But it also could be a learned statement.” Ikemei thought intensely before she spoke again. “But there is a limit to learned statements. Now what can I ask you that your trainers could have no knowledge of? Yes. Tell me, before the door opened to admit you here—what happened?”

  “We were washed by very bitter-tasting water.”

  Ikemei stamped her feet with appreciation. “How wonderful. You are an animal that can talk. How did this come about?”

  “I was taught by Enge.”

  “Yes. If anyone is suited for that task she is. But now we will stop talking and you will do as I say. Come to this workbench.”

  Kerrick could see what they were doing, but had no idea why. Essag used a pad to moisten the ball of his thumb, then Ikemei pierced it suddenly with a sharp object. Kerrick was surprised that he felt nothing, even when Ikemei squeezed great drops of blood from his thumb. Essag caught them in little containers which sealed themselves when she squeezed their tops. Then his arm was placed flat on the surface and rubbed with another pad that first felt cool, then numb.

  “Look there,” Ikemei said, pointing high on the wall. Kerrick looked up and saw nothing. When he looked back he saw that while he had been distracted she had used a stringblade to slice away a thin layer of his skin. There was no sensation of pain. The small drops of blood that began to well up were covered by the adhesive bandage of a nefmakel.

  Kerrick could not contain his curiosity any longer. “You have taken some of my skin and my blood. Why?”

  “An ustuzou with curiosity,” Ikemei said, signing him to lie flat on a low bench. “There is no end to wonders in this world. I am examining your body, that is what I am doing. Those colored sheets there will make a chromatographic examination, while those precipitating columns, those transparent tubes, will discover other secrets of your chemistry. Satisfied?”

  Kerrick was silent, understanding nothing. Ikemei placed a lumpish gray creature on his chest and prodded it to life.

  “And now this thing is generating ultrasound to look inside your body. When it is finished we will know all about you. Get up. We are done. A fargi will show you the way to return.”

  Ikemei looked on and marveled as the door closed behind Kerrick and Inlènu*. “A talking animal. For the first time I am eager to get to Alpèasak. I have heard that ustuzou lifeforms are varied and interesting there. I look forward with great interest to seeing them for myself. Orders.”

  “I hear, Ikemei,” Essag said.

  “Do a complete series of sera tests, all the metabolic tests, give me a complete picture of this creature’s biology. Then the real work begins.”

  Ikemei turned to the workbench and almost as an afterthought said, “We must find out all we can about its metabolic processes. We have been ordered to find parasites, predators, anything that will cause specific damage to this species.” She wriggled with distress as she said this and her assistant shared her discomfort. Ikemei gestured her to silence before she could speak.

  “I know your thoughts and share them. We build life, we don’t destroy it. But these particular ustuzou have become a menace and a danger. They must be driven away. That is it, driven away. They will leave and not bother the new city when they see they are in danger. We shall not kill them, we will just drive them away.”

  She spoke with all the sincerity that she could muster. Yet she and Essag shared a growing fear that darker things were being planned. Their respect for life, all life, warred with their sense of survival and their muscles twitched spasmodically with the silent conflict.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  As the great doors were swung slowly shut the sounds of the ambesed outside began to grow quiet. Silence filled the room when they had closed all the way. Vaintè had scarcely noted the details of the doors before, though she had been in this chamber many times in the past. Her attention was drawn to them now. They were intricately carved with a variety of intertwined plants and animals, these in turn had then been inset with shining metal and gemstones. They were just one more of the luxuries and pleasures of this ancient city that were taken for granted by the Yilanè who dwelled here. That she had once also taken for granted. How different this was from new-grown Alpèasak where there were scarcely any doors at all—while the few that did exist might still be damp with the sap of their growth. Everything there was crude and quickly grown, new and green, in direct contrast to this cultured city, old and staid. It was brash of her to be here, Eistaa of a wilderness city come to stand before those who ruled in timeless Inegban*.

  Vaintè rejected this line of thought instantly. There was no shame to newness, no need for her to feel inferior here in this great city. Inegban*, ancient, rich—but certainly doomed, there could be no doubting that. These trees would die, cold mists and dead leaves would blow through the empty city, these ponderous doors would fall beneath the fists of time, would be splintered and turn to dust. The Yilanè of Inegban* might sneer now at the crudeness of her distant city—but it would be their salvation. Vaintè treasured that thought, turned it over and over and let it possess her. Alpèasak would be their salvation—and she was Alpèasak. When she turned to face Malsas< and her aides she stood erect with pride that bordered on arrogance. They felt this and at least two of them stirred restlessly. Melik and Melpon<, who knew her well for these many years, knew her rank and expected some deference. Nor was Malsas< very enthusiastic about this seeming lack of respect. When she spoke her attitude was firm and questioning.

  “You seem very pleased, Vaintè, you must tell us why.”

  “It is my pleasure to be in Inegban* again, among all her comforts, to be among efenselè of my efenburu. It is my pleasure to report to you that the work I have been asked to do is progressing well. Alpèasak grows and prospers, the fields are vast, the animals many. Gendasi is a rich and fertile land. Alpèasak will grow as no other city has grown before.”

  “Yet there is a shadow behind your words,” Malsas< said. “A hesitation and an unhappiness that is all too clear.”

  “You are too perceptive, Eistaa,” Vaintè said. “There is a shadow. The ustuzou and all the other animals of this land are numerous and dangerous. We could not establish the birth beaches until we had eliminated the alligators, creatures very similar to the crocodiles we know, but infinitely more plentiful. There are species of ustuzou that are delicious, you have eaten them yourself when you honored our city with your visit. Then there are the other ustuzou, the ones that stand on their hind legs like crude copies of Yilanè. They cause much damage and are a constant threat.”

  “I understand the danger. But how can these animals prevail against our weapons? If they are strong is that not because of your weakness?”

  It was an open threat that Vaintè instantly turned aside. “Would that it were only my weakness. I would then step down and let one who was stronger preside in my place. But look how these dangerous animal reach right into our ranks and kill. Your efenselè, strong Alakensi, ever-watchful Alakensi. Dead Alakensi. They may be small in numbers but they have a jungle ustuzou’s low cunning. They lay traps. Sòkain and all with her died in such a trap. If a fargi dies there are always more to take her place. But who can replace Alakensi or Sòkain? The ustuzou kill our food animals, but we can raise more. But the ustuzou also killed on the birth beaches. Who can replace those males, those young?”

  Melpon< cried aloud at the thought. She was very old and given to much sentimental thinking about the birth beaches. But her cry spoke for all of them, even Malsas< who was clutched by the same strong feelings. But she was too experienced to permit herself to be swaye
d by emotion alone.

  “The threat seems to have been contained so far. You do well.”

  “That is true—but I wish to do more.”

  “What?”

  “Let me first supply all here with more information about the ustuzou. I wish them to hear about it from the lips of the captive ustuzou itself.”

  Malsas< pondered this and in the end signaled agreement. “If the creature has information that might be of value we will hear it. Can it really talk—respond to questions?”

  “You will see for yourself, Eistaa.”

  Kerrick must have been waiting close by, because the messenger returned with him very quickly. Inlènu* settled down to face the closed doors while Kerrick addressed himself to the assembly in silent expectancy of orders, one of the lowest facing those of the highest.

  “Order it to speak,” Malsas< said.

  “Tell us of your pack of ustuzou,” Vaintè said. “Speak so all can understand.”

  Kerrick glanced quickly towards her when she said this, and as quickly away. Those last words were a signal. He was now to supply the listeners with the information that she had carefully drilled into him.

  “There is little to say. We hunt, dig in the ground for insects and plants. And kill Yilanè.”

  A murmur of anger and a quick shift of bodies followed instantly.

  “Explain about killing Yilanè,” Malsas< ordered.

  “It is a very natural reaction. I have been told that Yilanè feel a natural disgust towards ustuzou. Ustuzou react the same way to Yilanè. But being brutal creatures they seek only to kill and destroy. Their single aim is to kill all Yilanè. They will do this—unless they are killed themselves.”