"Well, which do you want to be?" Mark restrained the urge to kiddingly add
"when you grow up." If Eerin was any example, the hin were, indeed, "grown up." He'd already gathered from Eerin's conversation today that the neuters built, administered, and maintained Elpind society; the han and heen built families.
"Hin will be happy to be either. Both han and heen are valuable and needed to give life to the people. But"--the Elpind showed signs of impatience--"hin wished to show Mark the difference between the computer's speech and a Telling. Mark will hear the rhythm, the measure, the style."
"Okay. I'll just sit down, if you don't mind." He sank into the armchair in the corner of the bedroom as Eerin dropped down to the carpet and sat cross-legged, thin knees sticking out like exclamation points. Hin began to rock gently back and forth on hin's bony rump.
"Hear these words and carry them through your days. The strongest words grow from deepest roots. Understand these words."
57
Even translated into Mizari, Eerin's speech carried a singsong rhythm. Mark found it easy to let his mind follow the flow.
"El is life and Wo is death, and each completes the other," chanted Eerin.
"We are Elspind, the people of life, for the life of the people endures even as death swallows us one by one. Our lives are cast like the shadows of the four moons from the ever-shining light of the people. We are born for the rizel. In the rizel, life is taken each from the other and given each to the other, and El walks so far ahead of Wo, there is no catching."
"Hold on a second. I'm confused again." Mark waved a hand. "What is the rizel?"
"Hin just told Mark. It is the coming together of han and heen so the people will endure, generation after generation," Eerin answered matter-of-factly.
"You mean, uh ... sex?"
"Not gender, but the coming together of the two fertile Elpind for creation of new life," Eerin said.
"That's what I ..." Mark searched hastily for a word that would not be either misinterpreted or vulgar. "You mean, the act of mating," he amplified. At Eerin's confirming nod, he continued, "Elspind teach that they are born to mate?"
"Is it not so with all peoples? Is it not how the life of the people endures?"
The Elpind looked thoughtful at having to explain the ancient philosophy and added, "Perhaps Elspind value their col ective life more because our individual lives are fleeting, like the shadows of our four moons."
Fleeting, thought Mark. Like shadows. He was remembering Eerin's Telling and how beautiful it had sounded--how oddly positive. Then he repressed a shudder, recalling the nightmares that had begun with Jon's suicide ... and again with his mother's death. There had been shadows in those dreams.
"It is said that, in ancient times, our lives before Enelwo were longer, but then something--perhaps the sun, perhaps our environment--something changed and Enelwo came more quickly."
Mark frowned at the barrage of information. "What's Enelwo?"
"It is what the computer called the Change."
58
"Enelwo." He tested the sound slowly. "I hear the words for both life and death in there."
"El and Wo step close together at that time, and no one can know beforehand which hin will embrace."
"Or whether you'll live the rest of your days as male or female," Mark added thoughtfully. He tried vainly to imagine what it felt like to have two huge unknowns bearing down on you from the moment of birth. Humans had
trouble handling just one.
Eerin bounced up off the floor. "How do humans ever learn?" hin said. "They cannot listen in long pieces; they must talk, also. Talk and get a small answer, talk some more and get another small answer."
"I'm sorry for interrupting," Mark apologized. "I want to hear all the long pieces you have to say, but I also need to be sure I understand them."
"Mark does not need to say heen is sorry," Eerin was quick to point out. "It is only that hin truly wishes to know how humans learn ... it is obvious that humans do, but not plain to hin how such learning is accomplished.
Obviously very differently."
"Uh, yeah ..." Mark said, and a wide yawn caught him unawares. "That's a big subject, Eerin, and it would take me a long time to tell what I know about it."
"Then hin will ask the computer. Does Mark wish to help the machine answer?"
Since he'd turned out to be a less-than-satisfactory pupil, the Elpind was eager to get back to the computer. Mark decided it wouldn't bother Eerin if he was honest. "I'd really rather go back to sleep if you don't need me," he admitted.
Eerin's tone managed to convey both resignation and pride. "Mark may resume sleep. Hin does not need help."
Gratefully, Mark padded back into the living room and flopped back down on the couch. Dimly, through the open door, he could hear Eerin at the computer link. Hin was busily retrieving the computer's files on human learning methods-- and also, Mark noted, with a wry grin, human sexuality.
So hin can hear them all in one "long piece," Mark thought, wondering whether it would be worth getting back up just to watch the Elpind's face.
Eerin was in for some surprises, to
59
say the least. Compared with the Elpind lifecycle, Eerin might well find human sexuality pedestrian by comparison.
Born to reproduce, he thought with an inward shake of his head. Well, in a way that describes every species, I guess. But for most species mating isn't fraught with such ... urgency. He resolved to do some reading tomorrow on Elpind sexuality. He had no idea how Elpind females gave birth. Eerin's body was certainly featureless.
That Change they go through must be a profound one, he thought. Their metabolisms must take a ninety-degree turn ... He wondered how close Eerin was to hin's own Enelwo.
"Eerin," he cal ed softly, "I was just wondering. How old are you?"
"Pause," the Elpind's voice said, then the alien appeared in the doorway.
"Hin has lived for 6.5 of your years."
About three and a half more years, then, Mark thought as the Elpind disappeared, remembering that the neuter stage lasted approximately ten standard years before the Change. And then, maybe six, maybe only four years more before ...
It was difficult to finish the thought. By the time Mark turned thirty, gentle, inquisitive Eerin would be dead.
He heard his companion's voice again. "Computer, resume."
No wonder you don't sleep, Mark thought, feeling a wave of pity for the Elpind. You can't afford to waste any time. And now, thanks to this pair project, Eerin was being forced to live some of hin's brief life at a snail's pace--a human pace.
Mark shivered and closed his eyes. It's natural for them, he told himself sternly. For Elspind, their life is just like your life is for you. All there is ... is all there is. It's the same for everybody.
The human fell back into a restless doze, but the nightmare came again for the first time in two weeks, the first time since he'd made his decision to leave StarBridge. The dream had variations, but in it, a shadow hovered over his mother, slowly descending, until it engulfed her, and he watched her die. If that didn't wake him, he always came to a door and opened it. Slowly.
Too slowly. He could never get it open in time to stop the blood from seeping out from under the door onto his bare feet. Jon is dead. My fault!
60
When he opened that door, saw his friend's body, the horror always woke Mark, and this time was no exception. He opened his eyes and sat up with a jerk, gasping.
Rubbing his hands across his face, he felt his heartbeat hammering within him and took slow breaths, trying to calm himself. Damn! There'd been a variation in the dream this time, too. Just now, when he'd opened that door, he'd seen Eerin on the other side of it, withered, ancient ... and dead.
He glanced at his watch. 0600 hours. The room was completely silent.
"Eerin?" Mark got up and glanced into both bedrooms. The Elpind wasn't in either.
His heart pounding again, his s
tomach in a knot, Mark padded barefoot across the floor to the bathroom. Memories of Jon made him swallow hard.
His dream ... and finding Eerin ...
"Eerin?" He tapped. "Hey, Eerin! You in there?"
No answer.
Hesitating for only a second, Mark opened the door.
Eerin wasn't in the bathroom.
Mark's mind seethed with worry as he jammed on his shoes and bent to seal them. The Elpind was his responsibility, in a way that a pair partner chosen from the population of regular StarBridge students would not have been.
Eerin was extremely intelligent, more so than he was, Mark had decided, but hin was still new to technology. StarBridge could hold dangers for someone totally unfamiliar with elevator shafts, food servos, and recycling chutes.
Swallowing, Mark realized that the things he'd always taken for granted could be potentially lethal.
He bolted out the door at a near run. The library's computer annex, several dining areas, and a quick jog through the botanical dome yielded no Eerin.
On impulse, Mark turned his steps toward the observation dome. The Elpind had been enraptured with the breathtaking view of the stars.
His hunch was correct. His pair partner was kneeling in the center of the lounge, tying closed a long, thin case that he hadn't seen before.
"Eerin," he had to catch his breath, "what--what are you doing up here? I've looked all over for you!"
61
"Hin came here to perform the Mortenwol. It is how hin begins each day."
"Mortenwol?" repeated Mark blankly. "Well ... uh, couldn't you have done it in our room? I don't think you should go out by yourself, not until you get a little more familiar with StarBridge."
"The Mortenwol is not quiet. Mark said he required more sleep. Hin wishes Mark to remain healthy."
"Oh. Well, uh, thanks. Listen, is this Mortenwol something I would be allowed to watch?" he asked.
"Certainly. Close friends and family share it on Elseemar every morning."
"Well, if you do it every day, it's obviously an important part of your culture.
I'm supposed to be learning about your culture just as much as you are mine, remember?"
"Mark can watch tomorrow," promised Eerin solemnly.
"Okay, good. What is it, by the way?"
"Mark will see." The Elpind's golden eyes sparkled with mischief ... and anticipation. 'Tomorrow. But what will we do today?" Eerin appeared ready to race off in any direction the human might point.
So much energy! Mark sighed, but he couldn't help smiling in return. "Let's start with food," he suggested. He'd learned yesterday that eating was second only to learning as Eerin's favorite activity.
He was rewarded with a joyous bounce and skip of the sort that humans usually reserved for momentous occasions.
So they went to breakfast.
Before they were halfway through, Cara Hendricks joined them. She smiled excitedly as she brought her tray over.
"I've been given permission to spend the whole day with you two, if that's okay," she said. "Not for a formal interview yet, but just to get acquainted."
Cautiously she tasted a yellow, gelatinous puddle on one of her plates, then grimaced.
"We call it slimefruit," offered Mark, grinning. "It's from one of the Apis homeworlds. Kind of an acquired taste."
"I've been bravely trying something new every meal, but maybe I'll just stick with the croissants this breakfast." She pushed the yellow goo away.
"Mark, will you explain to Eerin in Mizari about cameras
62
and what I'll be doing today? And talk slowly so I can try to follow along. I've been practicing for two weeks now, and I'm able to pick up a few words here and there."
"That's great," Mark said. "Congratulations."
"Well, there's nothing to celebrate yet." Cara chuckled. "I make clearer sounds brushing my teeth right now than I do speaking Mizari. But I'm going to keep on with it, even after I get back home. Knowing the dominant language spoken by the CLS councils and administrative offices can only help me as a journalist."
Mark explained Cara's request to the Elpind, to which Eerin responded in the affirmative. Then he turned back to Cara. "Okay, test time. What did hin say?"
"I think Eerin said he--uh--hin doesn't mind being filmed. And something about 'look inside'? I think?"
Mark grinned. "You're right. Eerin wants to look inside your camera to see how it works. And you'd better plan on showing hin the footage, too.
Curiosity, I've discovered, is this Elpind's middle name."
Cara laughed. "I wil show you," she said in halting Mizari to Eerin. Then ordering the camera into position and on, she began to watch the Elpind eat.
Eerin was totally unself-conscious as hin busily stuffed purple and white stringy things into hin's mouth.
"Mark, can you explain what Eerin is eating? In English, for my viewers back home," she added.
"Sure. We did this yesterday, twice, so I already know. Elspind are vegetarians. They have no teeth, just hard, bony ridges extending the gums."
He glanced at Eerin and said in Mizari, "Would you mind showing her your mouth?"
The Elpind obligingly pulled hin's lips back to display hin's lack of teeth for Cara's camera.
"Eerin is eating roots and stems from a plant called 'sestel,' " Mark continued. "Hin brought it from Elseemar, because their dietary needs are still being analyzed."
"Hin's not chewing," Cara said.
"Yeah, well, Eerin explained that. Hin's got a tongue, see." Again he prompted hin, and the Elpind opened wide. Hin's tongue was broad, orange, and looked tough enough to trowel mortar with.
63
"Under the tongue," Mark went on, "are ... glands, I guess you'd call them.
When Eerin holds the food under hin's tongue for a few seconds, secretions from these glands break it down and make it soft enough to swallow. Several stomachs finish the job, each in their turn, once the food gets there."
Mark grinned at Cara's aplomb as she took another bite of croissant during this explanation. She was toughening up fast. It took some human students months to be able to eat with aliens without gagging.
"Do they have taste buds?" she asked. "Do they enjoy eating like we do?"
Mark nodded emphatically. "Oh, they enjoy it, let me promise you. Hin drove me crazy yesterday asking when it would be time to eat next." But he turned to Eerin and dutifully asked the question.
Eerin's vigorous nod in Cara's direction was the answer.
The last of the Elpind's purple and white plant products disappeared, and the humans recycled their dishes.
"What's the schedule for today?" Cara rose to her feet, the little autocam readjusting its position in the air next to her.
"Eerin and I will spend this week boning up on survival skills, advanced first aid, and any special info we'll need to perform our pair project assignment--
which we'll find out about from Rob this afternoon. All the while we'll be using our free time getting to know each other and each other's ways better, trading language skills, that kind of thing. Next week we'll learn what our specific assignment is going to be, so we can begin planning for it."
Cara gave Mark a long look. "You sound pretty enthusiastic about this pair project. Does this mean you've changed your mind about leaving
StarBridge, Mark?"
He shook his head, feeling his own features tighten. "No, I'm just doing this because I was the most experienced student who was currently available.
My way of saying thanks to Rob Gable and this school, I guess. I owe both of them a lot."
"Maybe you'l change your mind," she said, giving him a sideways glance as they moved along the crowded corridor.
"That's obviously what Rob's hoping, but I won't," Mark said shortly, hoping she'd take the hint.
Eerin, in hin's typical fashion, had forged ahead of them.
64
Finally, the Elpind halted and waited for hin's slow compa
nions. "Hin has observed that humans are capable of moving faster than Mark and Cara,"
hin said with a hint of reproof.
"What did hin say?" Cara demanded.
"We're a pair of tortoises, it seems," Mark told her, chuckling dryly. "And Eerin is the hare."
Cara watched the Elpind bound ahead of them with all of hin's exuberant energy. "Don't they ever slow down?" she wondered aloud.
"No," Mark said slowly, suddenly sobered, "they can't afford to slow down.
Eerin can't afford to waste time."
65
Chapter 5 CHAPTER 5
The Mortenwol
Morning came early, but a gritty-eyed Mark rolled out of bed without a grumble. Eerin had ignored every attempt yesterday to find out just what this Mortenwol thing was, and by that time his curiosity was acute.
After a quick shower, he felt better. "I'm ready," he told Eerin expectantly.
"You can start the Mortenwol anytime."
"At home it is done in the part of our dwelling that is open to the sky."
"A courtyard?" Mark guessed. "Okay. You want to go back to the observation dome?"
Eerin nodded. Hin disappeared into the other bedroom and came back with the two cases Mark had seen the day before. Hin handed the long, thin one to Mark to carry. It was very light.
When they reached the observatory, Mark settled on one of the low couches to watch whatever was about to happen. Eerin took position in the middle of the room, beneath the peak of the great dome. Hin's creamy coloring glimmered palely in the starlight. The Elpind had not spoken since arriving, and there was a strange, distant look in the golden eyes.
66
Placing the long case on the floor, Eerin opened it, removing six feathers.
Each was black-tipped and yellow-spined, but two were deep red, one a dark green, two a soft blue, and one a pure, startling white. The plumage was full and springy, not tired-looking the way Mark had seen old feathers become.
With quick motions of hin's long, slender fingers, Eerin wove the six feathers together until they became a chaplet. Hin slipped the headband over hin's head, where it made an attractive contrast to the Elpind's creamy down.
Next the Elpind slid a small oblong board out of the second case. About half a meter long, it appeared to be made of wood and was finely worked.
Shadow World Page 7
