Winter in Eden e-2 Page 24

  “Why not? Why not?” Ambalasi’s ragged crest flared red, as did the palms of her outstretched hands. “Because if we planted it at this time it would be eaten by worms, consumed by beetles, destroyed by fungus, crushed under foot by one of your clumsy Daughters!”

  “Now I understand,” Enge said calmly. “Apologies extended for ignorance.”

  Ambalasi turned to look across the river, muttering to herself with sharp growls and twitches of her limbs. When she had composed herself she picked up the lecture again.

  “I think that the thorn wall is high enough for protection now. I want a large force, at least half your number, to cross with me in the morning. If our flank is secured we will begin the much-needed labors of clearing the land, spreading the carefully nurtured larvae to purify the soil. Then we will add the nitrogen-fixing bacteria, followed by the shrubs of rapid-growth, rapid-decay for fertilizer. Then, if all goes well, and I say that the time is ripe, then we plant the city seed. Is it remotely possible that now my meaning is clear?”

  “Admirably so,” Enge said, majestically immune to sarcasm. “And I thank you for the detailed explanation. I now await your orders.”

  “I wish that the others did. That is the next problem. We need some leadership here, someone to tell these worthless creatures what to do.”

  “Indeed that is our problem,” Enge agreed enthusiastically, “for that is what brings us here. My Sisters, who are willing to die for their beliefs, do so by first understanding the inability of an eistaa to destroy them, then relish the joy of that newfound freedom. They will work together, they will not be ordered to.”

  “If they won’t be led — how may they be induced to follow?”

  “A very serious question — and one I have pondered over deeply.”

  “You had better ponder a little more deeply and a little more quickly,” Ambalasi said testily. “Or we may all be dead before you have found a solution. All social creatures have a leader, a decision-maker — look there.” She indicated a school of bright, tiny fish in the water alongside. Something disturbed them and they turned instantly, heading off in a new direction.

  “One of them is always first,” Ambalasi said. “When bees swarm they follow the new queen. Ants have a queen from whose fruitful loins all the others spring. As ants, so Sisters. They must be led.”

  “I understand the problem…”

  “You do not. If you did you would give it the highest priority, the first attention. Your play-groups and discussions would stop and you would address yourself to this problem, the only problem, until a solution was reached. There must be leadership, delegation of authority, cooperation.”

  “You have just described an eistaa and her joined descent of command,” Enge said calmly. “That is what we have rejected.”

  “Then find something to put in its place before we all die of starvation or are eaten by the creatures of the night.” She was aware of a motion for attention and turned to Elem who had joined them on the fin. “Speak.”

  “Apologies for interruption: matter of great importance. The uruketo has been too long on the shore. We must go to sea, beyond the river mouth.”

  “Impossible!” Ambalasi qualified this with dismissal-from-presence which Elem steadfastly ignored.

  “I beg permission to amplify reasons. They were explained to me by the commander of the uruketo, a long time ago, when I served as a crewmember. Memory returns as I observe the uruketo now. And the enteesenat who plunge in the water and utter shrill cries. It is time to go to sea, away from these muddy waters, for this creature must feed.”

  “Tomorrow. After we have crossed to the city site.”

  “No. Too late. We swim now with the tide. We must be one or two days at sea. That is most important.”

  Enge tensed her muscles and waited for Ambalasi to turn and maim this upstart who went against her will. But she had forgotten that Ambalasi was a scientist first and always.

  “You are right, of course. Make sure that it is well fed before your return for it is needed. And in the future give me advance warning before any of these feeding trips.”

  “As you order, so shall I obey.”

  “Our expedition will wait. Perhaps this delay is fortuitous. You have two days to solve your problem. Let us go ashore.”

  “I despair of an answer in that time. This is not an easy problem because it strikes close to the very heart of our beliefs.”

  Ambalasi stopped when they reached the ground and settled back onto her tail, suddenly very tired. There was far too much physical work to do and she was not used to it. Enge waited patiently as the scientist, deep in thought watched the river, only half-aware, as the uruketo moved out. There was much splashing and thrashing before it worked itself clear of the bank, then turned and followed the excited enteesenat downriver toward the sea. Ambalasi closed her eyes for a long time, then opened them and turned one toward Enge’s silently expectant form.

  “Desire to make suggestion.”

  “Respectful of great wisdom, keenly attentive.”

  “Reverse the decision-making, look at the question from the other side, if I may quote your Ugunenapsa. Let decisions come from the bottom, not the top. You are Daughters of Life, so the basic needs of life must be your basic tenets. We will begin with one of them. Food. Do you follow this line of reasoning so far?”

  Enge signed respect and comprehension. “I admire as well the clarity of your thought processes and exposition.”

  “As well you might — since the burden of all responsibility here seems to fall upon my strong shoulders. Repetition of argument. Food. Once you get them to admit that they need food to live, ask them if they wish to obtain it collectively or individually.”

  “Wonderful!” Enge radiated agreement and enthusiasm. “Permit me to continue your thought. As we did in the sea, collectively catching schools of fish, so shall we do in the efenburu of sisterhood. We will all catch fish…”

  “No! You are missing the point. You are no longer yilieb young in the ocean, but Yilanè with the need to work together for your mutual good. Some of you must be selected to fish for all the others, and one of the group of fishers must order the others in the manner of fishing.”

  “I understand and appreciate your point. But this decision will be difficult, difficult.”

  Ambalasi was in complete agreement. “That is the story of survival: nothing is easy. We have had our cities so long we forget that once we competed on equal terms with all of the other life forms. Now we bend them to our will. And now we had better find a way to bend your Sisters before they become prematurely extinct.”

  It took most of the entire day of discussion before the Daughters reached an agreement. Ambalasi busied herself with her seedlings and growing animals, registering extremes-of-disgust only when her glance passed over the talking multitude. When Enge approached her in the late afternoon she looked up with an expression of expectancy and impatience.

  “Can it be that we will have fish after all?”

  “A decision has been reached that conforms to all of Ugunenapsa’s teachings. Equality in all things, equality of effort. Ten of us will fish at a time, for ten is a complete number that represents the total of the fingers of two hands that will be doing the work. The first of the ten will lead the ten and issue the orders for the first day. On the second day the second of the ten will be in command, and so on, until the tenth of the ten commands and on the following day the next ten will take their place and so on until all have served — then the tens of tens of tens will begin over again. Is that not a circular, complete and satisfying solution?”

  Ambalasi signed disgust and horror. “Absolute rubbish! The most confusing bit of nonsense I have ever heard. What was wrong with appointing a fisher-in-charge who will choose all the others — all right. I see your frenzied motions — it would not be Ugunenapsa’s way. So do it as you have decided. When does the fishing begin?”

  “Now. And I am first of the ten. We go with pleasure t
o supply the food for all.”

  Ambalasi watched Enge’s receding back, erect and proud. It was unbelievable. But understandable. And analyzable. Once you trapped yourself in a belief you had to follow through to the very end of all its permutations — or abandon the belief. She was beginning to regret her journey into the realms of darkest philosophy. Delicately, she cleaned the dirt from the roots of the seedling she was transplanting. How true, clear and satisfying biology was by comparison! But she dare not shy away. Their repellent philosophy produced biological results. She was determined to probe and discover the reasons for this. It was hard to be the first in science, the first in intelligence, the first in reason. Ambalasi sighed happily: it was a burden she would just have to bear.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “Attention and urgency, attention and urgency!”

  The Yilanè was repeating herself incoherently like a fargi. Ambalasi looked up from her work prepared to indulge her biting temper. But she saw that the mud-covered creature was shaking with worry and fear so she signed for explanation-amplification instead.

  “One is injured while fishing. A bite, much blood.”

  “Wait — then take me to her.”

  Ambalasi kept a bundle of medical needs ready for just such emergencies. She found it and handed it over. “Carry this — and proceed.”

  They pushed through the circle of excited Daughters to find Enge kneeling in the mud, supporting the head of a blood-drenched Yilanè.

  “Quickly,” she implored. “It is Efen, she who is closest to me. I have covered the wound to staunch the flow of blood.”

  Ambalasi looked down at the blood-sodden wad of leaves that Enge held to the other’s side. “An intelligent action, Enge,” she said. “Hold it there still while I bring some comfort.”

  The little snake lay coiled and sluggish in its basket. Ambalasi took it behind the head and squeezed it so that its mouth opened and exposed the single long fang. With her free hand she took out a nefmakel and exposed its moist underside, used it to wipe clean the skin in Efen’s groin. This not only cleaned off the mud — it destroyed any bacteria with its antiseptic action. She discarded the creature and pressed Efen’s damp skin to reveal the artery pulsing there; with delicate touch pushed the sharp fang into it. The modified venom flowed into Efen’s blood; she was unconscious within moments. Only then did Ambalasi uncover the wound.

  “A clean bite. It took out a lot of muscle but did not penetrate the omentum. I’ll just have to clean it up a bit.” The string knife removed the ragged flesh. As the wound began to bleed again she unrolled a larger nefmakel and placed it over the damaged area. The creature stuck there, stopping the bleeding and sealing it completely. “Take her some place to rest. She will be all right.”

  “Gratitude to Ambalasi as always,” Enge said, rising slowly.

  “Wash yourself — you are filthy with mud and blood. What creature bit her?”

  “That.” Enge indicated the riverbank. “It was tangled in our net.”

  Ambalasi turned to look — and for the first time in living memory was struck speechless.

  It was still alive, writhing on the ground, crushing bushes and small trees. A great, undulating gray length, as thick through as a fargi’s body, stretched out on the ground the length of two, three Yilanè — with more of its serpentine form still in the water. Its jaw of great bony plates gaped wide, its tiny and deadly eyes staring sightlessly.

  “We have found it,” Ambalasi said finally, with some satisfaction. “You saw the elvers in midocean. This is the adult.”

  “An eel?” Enge signed awe and understanding. “This new world of Ambalasokei is indeed a world of many surprises.”

  “By its very nature it must be,” Ambalasi said, sinking back into her normal didactic personality now that the first shock of recognition had passed. “I doubt if you are capable of understanding the theory of tectonic plates and continental drift so I will not trouble your mind with it. But you will be able to appreciate the results. This land, and distant Entoban* were once one. All of the creatures were the same. This was soon after the cracking of the egg of time. Since then slow differentiation and the process of natural selection have caused major changes — must have caused major changes in the species. I imagine we will find others, though none perhaps as dramatic as this.”

  Within a few days Ambalasi was to remember saying this with some chagrin. It was perhaps the most erroneous assumption that she had ever made.

  Efen’s wound healed easily. On the positive side of the accident was the acquisition of the large eel. It was gigantic — and very tasty, and fed them all with much left over. Stronger nets were constructed, more precautions taken, and their source of food guaranteed. Softened by enzymes, it was the best food they had known since their imprisonment.

  When the well-fed uruketo returned they used it to cross the river to the site of their new city . The Daughters were eager to see this place of great importance and there was no shortage of volunteers for this expedition.

  “Would that this eagerness for work was more evenly apportioned,” Ambalasi grumbled, selected only the strongest then drove the rest away. As soon as they were aboard, and despite their protests, she ordered them all into the interior, sharing the fin-top only with Enge and Elem.

  “Make note,” Ambalasi ordered, “that your Sisters while avoiding all real work are always ready to volunteer for an outing. Perhaps you ought to consider some system of awards for labor since you cannot order them to do it.”

  “There is much truth in what you say, as always, and I will think about it,” Enge said. “Although I understand them and know their feelings, yet I also know that we must devise some way of sharing the work. I will study the thoughts of Ugunenapsa more closely because she may have considered this problem as well.”

  “I know — and I grieve. It has my fullest attention.”

  The uruketo shuddered beneath them as the ponderous creature swam aside to avoid a floating tree that was sweeping down the river in their direction. A forest giant that had been undercut by the flood until it had toppled in. Birds flew up from its still-green foliage as it drifted majestically by them. Under Elem’s guidance the uruketo turned again and drew up to the neck of land that was to be their city.

  Ambalasi climbed down first and splashed ashore. The ground was covered with yellowed, dead shrubbery, with the bare branches of the dead trees stark above. Ambalasi made a sharp sign of satisfaction.

  “The beetles will soon take care of the trunks and stumps. Put your Daughters to work pulling down branches and small trees. Throw everything into the river. Then we will inspect the barrier of thorns.”

  Ambalasi led the way, walking slowly in the heat. Before they reached the green wall they had to stop in the meager shadow of a skeletal tree to cool before they could go on.

  “Hot,” Enge said with some difficulty, her jaw thrown wide.

  “Of necessity, since we are precisely on the equator, a geographical term you would not be acquainted with.”

  “The place on the surface of a sphere equidistant from the poles that mark the axis of rotation.” Enge was looking at the barrier so missed Ambalasi’s gesture of irritation. “In my attempts to understand Ugunenapsa’s works I discovered that her philosophy was based in part upon her study of certain natural sciences. So I emulated her fine example…”

  “Emulate my fine example and let us keep walking. We must be absolutely sure there are no breaks in the barrier. Come.”

  As they walked along beside the wall of flat leaves and sharp thorns, Ambalasi reached in among the branches to remove ripe seed pods, which she gave to Enge to carry. When they reached the riverbank Ambalasi pointed out the gap between the barrier and the water.

  “Always this way at the interface,” she said. “I’ll plant more seeds here, also these seeds for thick shrubs that root in the water. Hold them for me.”

  The elderly scientist kicked grooves in the mud with a practiced swipe of the
claws on one foot while balancing on the other, then bent over, puffing and complaining, to plant the seeds.

  Enge looked out into the river to the place further down the bank where a small sidewater joined the larger body of the great stream. Something moved there, swimming into the river, a large fish of some kind. She looked with interest as another one followed, emerging from the water for an instant.

  “More seeds,” Ambalasi said. “A sudden attack of deafness,” she added with irritation when she turned to see Enge standing in silence, looking out at the river. “What is the matter?” she asked when there was still no response.

  “There in the water, I saw it, gone now.” She spoke with modifiers of such grave importance that Ambalasi turned at once, looking, seeing nothing.

  “What was it?”

  Enge turned back to the scientist with motions of life and death importance. Hesitating in silence before she spoke.

  “I have now thought deeply and have considered all living creatures that I know that bear a resemblance. There is none it could possibly be confused with. The first one I saw unclearly, it could have been anything. The second put its head above the water. I saw it. I am not mistaken. It was there.”

  “Desire for explanation,” Ambalasi said testily in the silence that followed. Enge faced her, still in silence and immobility, looked long into her eyes before she spoke.

  “I realize the importance of what I am about to say. But I make no mistake.

  “There, in the stream, I saw a young elininyil.”

  “Impossible. We are the first Yilanè to reach this place; there are no males so no eggs to hatch, no young to enter the sea, no elininyils to grow to fargi. Impossible. Unless…”

  It was Ambalasi’s turn to grow silent and rigid, with just shadows of thoughts rippling her muscles. It was a long time before she spoke.

  “It is not impossible. When I spoke just now I was speaking with species specific ethnocentricity. Because we Yilanè are at the summit of the ecological pyramid we automatically assume — I automatically assume — that we are alone there, something special and singular. Do you know what I am saying?”