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  Ambalasei leaned back against the warm wood and basked in the intensity of Far!’s hatred.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  It was Enge, as always, who labored to bring peace to the warring factions.

  “Ugunenapsa teaches us that we all dwell in the city of life. Ambalasei is equal to you in this city, Far. And she is superior to you in all other ways, in her knowledge and skills, and particularly in her labors for the Daughters of Life. In this she is far ahead of me and second only to Ugunenapsa who revealed the truths. We are here, our city is here — and you are here Far! — because she brought you here. Any future labors that you may do will be done because she freed you. I do not ask for gratitude, but I do request acknowledgment of this fact from you.”

  Far! was still angry. “Am I to take your orders, too, Enge? Are you my eistaa now?”

  Enge stayed calm in the face of her wrath. “I command you only to state a fact. Is Ambalasei responsible for your freedom?”

  After a reluctant silence Far! signed a stiff positive motion. Enge acknowledged it.

  “That is good. Never forget it. As Ambalasei has helped us in the past, so will she help us in the future. Therefore when she wishes to speak to you of conditions of use of the uruketo you owe her the courtesy of at least listening. You may reject the conditions, but you must listen. Do you agree?”

  Far! lowered her eyes in deep thought and when she raised them again her anger had faded and she signed supplication. “In my zeal to spread the teachings of Ugunenapsa and to insure the continuation of those teachings, I have permitted myself to be moved to anger. For this I apologize to you and the other Daughters of Life.” She directed a gesture of dismissal in Ambalasei’s direction. “I do not and will not apologize to this unbeliever.”

  “Nor do I wish it, obnoxious one. I have heard that the stature of a Yilanè is measured by her enemies. I hope that I can number you among them because I am lost if I call you friend. Now — will you follow my instructions?”

  “I will listen to them,” she hissed in answer.

  “For you, a reasonable statement.” With signs of dismissal of unimportance she turned away and addressed the others. “We will now discuss facts historical and their bearing on events to come. All of you here were at one time unbelievers. Then you were spoken to by such as Enge, saw the light, so to speak, and became believers. Is that not what happened?” She nodded at the motions of agreement. “So that is the way Daughters are recruited. Where did this take place? I ask you Enge.”

  “For me it was in the city of Inegban * where I spoke with a Yilanè of great learning by the name of Essokel.”

  “In the city?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And you others,” Ambalasei said with a gesture that embraced their totality. “All of you learned of Ugunenapsa’s inspiring philosophy in a city?”

  Each signed agreement, even Far! with great reluctance. “Of course it would have to be that way. You were all Yilanè or you would not have been able to understand the arguments. But do these conversions really conform to Ugunenapsa’s exhortations in her eighth principle? Do I not sense strong discrimination here?”

  There were movements and signs of puzzlement on all sides — and a flare of colored rejection from Far! who would not even consider Ugunenapsa’s principles when voiced by this unbeliever. Only Enge stood silent and thoughtful, her limbs and tail writhing slightly in echo of cogitation. Now Ambalasei watched her alone as her movements quickened and coalesced and she threw her arms wide with joy of discovery.

  “As always, great Ambalasei brightens us with the clarity of her thought and we must give her praise, highest praise.”

  Far! signed refusal, the others query, Ambalasei a pleased acknowledgment of credit where credit was due. Enge’s body moved uncontrollably with the intensity of her emotions.

  “Ambalasei has the breadth of intelligence and understanding to show us where to look in Ugunenapsa’s teachings. The answer was always there, it was just our ineptitude that prevented us from seeing it. Does not the eighth principle state that we bear the responsibility to help all others to know the spirit of life and the way of life? Yet why do we limit ourselves so?”

  She ended with a query and desire for answer. There was still puzzlement and contempt from Far!.

  “Will you have us explain the principles of Ugunenapsa to the fishes in the sea?”

  “Silence, Far!,” Satsat said, anger sharpening her movements. “You dishonor us as well as yourself with the darkness of your thoughts. Ambalasei has indeed led us to the truth — and in that she is more loyal to Ugunenapsa’s teachings than you are with your rejections. We were all Yilanè when we learned of Ugunenapsa. Because of this we think only of Yilanè. But we forget the fargi. All of them wanting only to learn from us, their minds empty vessels ready to be filled with Ugunenapsa’s truth.”

  “It takes one of great intelligence to see things hidden from those of lesser ability,” Ambalasei said with her usual modesty. “Here is what you must do. Go to the fargi and teach them. In their urge to communicate they will believe anything. Go to them when they leave the beaches and before they enter the city. Give them food, that will certainly draw their attention, then speak to them of Ugunenapsa and tell them how they will live forever. Do that and you will get all the recruits you need. And by staying away from the city you won’t get seized and imprisoned as you have in the past. The fargi are numberless; your converts will never be missed. Agree to do this and the uruketo will take you to a city, to the beaches beyond the city.”

  Ambalasei accepted their gratitude as her due, listened to the animated discussion. But she kept one eye on Far! always and Enge soon became aware of this. She signed for attention, then turned to Far!.

  “And what do you say to this? Will you take Ugunenapsa’s truth to the fargi?”

  They were all silent and watching now, interested in what their argumentative sister would answer. They saw her lift her head, sign firmness of resolve, then speak.

  “I have not been wrong — but I have perhaps been overzealous. Ambalasei has led us to the truth and for this I thank her. I will go to the fargi and speak to them so that this city may live. I thank her again for helping us.”

  There were overtones of dislike behind what she said, but she still spoke with sincerity. Enge, filled with the joy of revelation, seeing the answer to this vexatious problem before her, ignored these small signs. Peace had been restored. Ugunenapsa’s great work would proceed.

  “What are your commands, great Ambalasei?” Enge asked, speaking as a supplicant and not an equal. Ambalasei acknowledged this with easy acceptance.

  “I will grow containers for preserved meat. When these are ready and filled we will leave. I suggest a limited number be allowed to preach so there will be room in the uruketo when it returns for those whom you have converted. When the meat is gone and the conversions made the uruketo will come back here. This city will grow, particularly with young and strong fargi to do the labors.”

  “When you spoke of leaving you said when we leave,” Enge observed. “Then you intend to go in the uruketo?”

  “Naturally. Who else is able to organize this better than I? And I yearn for discussions where a certain name is never mentioned. Now agree among yourselves who is to go. I suggest five as a maximum number.”

  “Suggest?” Far! said, an edge of apprehension and distaste behind the question.

  “Order, if you prefer that. But I am magnanimous and do not bear grudges. You and four others if that is what you want. Will you come, Enge?”

  “My place must be here in the city now, readying it for the newcomers, though my strongest wish is to join you. Satsat, closest to me, will you go in my place?”

  “Gladly!”

  “Three more then,” Ambalasei said and stretched her stiff muscles and walked away. “I will inform you when it is time to leave,” she called back, then left the ambesed. At an easy pace went through the city that she had grow
n, that was named in her honor. But she walked slowly now and she knew that this was more than fatigue. She was old and often, in moments of quiet thought, she felt that she was reaching the limits of her physical powers. The end would come, not tomorrow but perhaps tomorrow’s tomorrow was waiting with its void of emptiness. There were things that must be done before that inevitable moment arrived. Setfessei was mounting specimens when she entered but instantly ceased and signed readiness for instruction.

  “Containers to be grown,” Ambalasei said as she rooted through a store of dried eggs and pods. She found what she wanted and gave them to her assistant. “Nutrient fluid needed for growth, then preserved meat to be sealed in them. But first bring me the ugunkshaa and a memory creature.”

  “Which memory do you seek?”

  “One of no real importance for I need to make a record.”

  “There are early reminders of ocean currents and winds of the south, now supplanted by observations of discovery.”

  “Perfectly correct. I do not keep partial records of vagueness — only historically important successes.”

  The ugunkshaa, a severely mutated creature of no intelligence, squatted before Ambalasei, its great organic molecule lens staring sightlessly up at her. Setessei placed the memory creature beside it and delicately inserted one of the tendrils above its withered eyes into a fold of flesh on the memory-speaker. As she made subtle adjustments a black and white image flickered across the lens and there were muted sounds of a voice. These stopped when the other, smaller eye, slowly opened and stared at Ambalasei.

  “As you speak now, so shall it listen and remember,” Setessei said stepping back.

  Ambalasei dismissed her, gathered her thoughts, then began to talk. Every motion, every sound she made was registered indelibly in the memory creature’s brain.

  “I will tell you first of the rivers in the sea that led me to this new land…”

  “My greatly-trusted Setessei will stay with you while I am away,” Ambalasei said. “While of course not my equal, she is skilled in the matters of the city, having helped to grow it, and is skilled also in the treatment of wounds that your clumsy sisters seem to acquire with such ease.”

  “Gratitude-magnified-multifold,” Enge signed. “All is in readiness for departure?”

  “Almost all. The last of the preserved meat should be ready today. As soon as it is aboard we will leave. The morning will be best since I want to make observations of the ocean currents as they flow north and diminish. The connections between my new charts and the old must be made. After that I wish to see this city you spoke to me of, Alpèasak.”

  “Death and destruction by fire! All Yilanè dead and ustuzou with killing stone-teeth in the streets and groves.”

  “Yet you lived, Enge, and others.”

  “The few surviving Daughters of Life fled in the uruketo and are here now with me. There was also the uruketo’s commander and the crewmembers. And one whose name I will not speak. There was also a male, name unknown, and the scientist Akotolp.”

  “Akotolp! She who was fat and round as a river eel?”

  “The same.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Unknown. We left the uruketo, as I have told you, to escape persecution at the thumbs of the nameless one.”

  “I must see this city. Perhaps the ustuzou have gone. In any case the currents flow in that direction and past and on to the shores of Entoban*. Observations to be made, charts to be rationalized.”

  They departed soon after dawn, slipping out into the river and down to the open sea. Ambalasei had enlisted the aid of two crewmembers to trail the neskhak in the sea as they went. The neskhak swam strongly, seeking safety, but were pulled back aboard by their grossly extended tails. Since their skin color varied with the water temperature, Ambalasei would make notes on her charts and have them thrown overboard again. Freed of any labors, the missionary Daughters of course spent their waking hours in discussion of the Eight Principles — deep within the uruketo where Ambalasei could not hear them.

  It was a pleasant and warm journey to be greatly enjoyed. All too soon they were passing the island of Maninlè , then the jewel-like islands of Alakas-aksehent. By this time Ambalasei was fatigued by her labors and sleeping below. The charts, new and old, were joined and complete. The known world was that much bigger thanks to her genius. Having accomplished this she slept very well, wakening only at the touch on her arm. It was Elem, the commander, signing attention and obedience to commands.

  “You ordered me to waken you when the mainland of Gendasi* was in sight.”

  “Is it?”

  “Obscured by rainclouds at the moment, but it is there certainly enough.”

  “I come. Assistance in rising needed. Muscles stiffen from damp and sleep.”

  Elem’s strong arms helped her to her feet and she walked slowly to the fin, climbed it laboriously, complaining continuously. The two crewmembers there came tumbling down pursued by her wrath, though she signed Elem to join her.

  “Have you been here before?” Ambalasei asked.

  “No, but the charts are clearly marked. We have but to follow the chain of golden islands to this swampy coastline. Alpèasak lies to the north.”

  The rain had blown out to sea and the low coastline was clearly visible now. A sandy shore with forests behind. Elem glanced up at the sun. “We should be there before dark.”

  “If there is any doubt, stand out to sea. Remember the ustuzou Enge told us of.”

  “Horrible, beyond understanding, deadly.”

  “But nevertheless there. Precautions manifold.”

  “Perhaps not needed,” Elem said, shielding her eyes against the sun. “Movement near coastline, uruketo, boats.”

  Ambalasei muttered and blinked but could not see them clearly at first. Only when they were closer could she make out the details.

  “Observations of great interest. The city is obviously Yilanè once again. Docks there, other uruketo. But do not approach it yet. Go close to shore, there, by those beaches. And have the missionaries come up here now. Bring up the meat containers as well.”

  When the five Daughters had joined them, Ambalasei indicated the shore and the clump of towering trees beyond. “Note this place and note as well the number ten. The count of two hands. The uruketo will return to this place after that number of days. To pick you up — and those as well to whom you may have shown the way. The surf is light, your swim to the shore an easy one.”

  “What of this meat?” Far! asked.

  “It will be pushed into the sea, the waves will carry it ashore, you will retrieve it. Be back at this place in ten days.”

  “And if we have not finished our work?” Far! said, always finding something to query.

  “Conclusions will be reached then. I call you missionaries because you go on a mission to speak to the fargi of those truths which seem to be all you care about. Make them believe and return with them. But, please, see if you can’t return with intelligent and strong ones. There is work that needs doing in Ambalasokei.”

  “You do not join us?” Far! asked suspiciously.

  “No. I have far more important labors. Ten days.” She waited until the last of them had slid into the ocean and was swimming towards shore before she spoke again. “Take me to the dock. As soon as I step ashore, leave. Talk to no one there. Return to get me in the early morning on the tenth day. Understood?”

  “Understood, great Ambalasei. Ten days.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As Ambalasei stepped from the back of the uruketo to the worn wood of the dock she felt a great satisfaction. With one eye she watched the uruketo swim back towards the open sea, to be quickly lost in the bustle of the port. Before her was a vista of wide streets, hurrying fargi carrying fresh fish, pieces of meat, unknown bundles. The air carried a burden of odors, cries of command and issued orders.

  “A great city, a busy city, a city where for ten days I shall eat well, talk intelligently — and not hear
the name Ugunenapsa spoken at all. Almost unbelievable.” She laid the small container down on the dock next to her feet and looked around at the gaping fargi. One stood quite close with her mouth almost closed and with what might be a flicker of intelligence in her eyes.

  “Do you understand/comprehend?” Ambalasei said, slowly and clearly.

  The fargi raised her hand and signed understanding with colors alone, then added verbal modifiers. “Comprehension and seeking of guidance.”

  “That you shall have. Pick this up. Follow me.” She had to repeat this twice before the fargi signed colors of understanding and hurried forward.

  Ambalasei, with the fargi trailing happily behind, strolled along the wide street, greatly enjoyed the bustle of the city. She came to a slow-moving line of fargi each carrying a bloody slab of fresh meat. She turned to follow them, clacking her jaws with pleasure, suddenly realizing how monotonous the constant diet of eel had become. Cool, jellied meat: fresh, stillwarm meat!

  The street widened into a large eating area. She passed the interesting display of fish, later perhaps, and moved on to the shaded vats where the fresh meat was curing. She lifted the cover on the first and took out the leg of a small animal, admired it for a moment — then bit out a large and juicy mouthful.

  “Attention to speaking,” a harsh voice said, and Ambalasei looked up chewing contentedly. The Yilanè before her had fat wattles on her neck; the hanging flesh on her arms was painted in patterns of elaborate coils. “Put down that meat, I do not know you old one. This is reserved for the eistaa.”

  Beside Ambalasei the fargi with her container began to shake with fright at the threat-in-speaking that she heard. Ambalasei signed her to remain easy, protection of superior, nothing to fear. She chewed slowly, savoring the sweet meat, shaped her limbs into commands from highest to lowest, swallowed — then hissed with anger.