The Color of Distance

Chapter 1

Ani was gathering tender bibbi shoots when a patch of white on the distant forest floor caught her eye. She pointed it out to Kirito, and her sitik, Ilto. Curious, they climbed down to investigate.

The patch of white turned out to be two unusual animals lying on the forest floor. At first the two strange animals didn’t even seem to be alive. The white shell that covered them was made of something that had never lived. The covering was flexible, like the shell of a lizard’s egg, only much tougher. Kirito’s sharpest knife could barely cut through it.

The first creature they uncovered was dead. Kirito pierced its skin with a wrist spur, taking a few cells into her allu to see what kind of animal it was. Her ears lifted in astonishment. Pink with surprise and excitement, she beckoned urgently to Ilto. Kirito linked spurs with Ilto, sharing her discovery with him. He colored as excitedly as she had, and began helping Kirito free the other creature from its tough white covering.

Ani’s ears lifted in surprise. Ilto was rarely surprised or excited anymore. Over the past couple of years, he had become listless and apathetic. Her sitik’s withdrawal worried her. She was his bami. Ilto had chosen her from among all of the other tinka. He’d raised her, training her to fill his place in the tribe some day. But Ani wasn’t ready yet. She still needed him. She was afraid he would decide to die, leaving her unprepared to be an elder. Perhaps this new creature would restore his interest in life.

While Kirito and Ilto were busy cutting open the covering on the second animal, Ani examined the dead one. Its odd pinkish-tan skin was very strange—smooth, like hers, but dry like a lizard’s. It lacked any protective slime and was covered with sparse hair, like the fuzz of an ika flower. She had never seen an animal with fuzz on its skin before. She wondered what purpose it served.

Ani sank a wrist spur into the creature. It was even stranger inside than outside. Its cells made no sense at all, which was strange, since the corpse was very fresh. She should still be able to read its cells.

Ilto chittered quietly to get her attention. She looked up to see what he wanted.

“This one’s alive!” he said, the symbols flashing across his body almost too quickly to read. “Help us take this thing off its body!”

Puzzled, she helped them strip the covering from the second creature. This one was darker brbwn, with a finer, sparser covering of hair. It was smaller and more delicately built. Ilto lifted off the hard shell encasing its head. Underneath the masklike head-covering was a flat, uninteresting face with a fleshy nose like a bird’s beak, and a small mouth with fat, swollen lips. The hair on its head was thick and long.

Stripped, the creature was ugly and clumsy-looking. It was at least three hand-spans taller than any Tendu Ani had ever seen. Its thick, awkward feet had tiny, weak toes, useless for climbing. The creature’s blunt claws were as impractical as its absurd toes. It lay there, laboring for breath like a dying fish. How could such a poorly adapted animal manage to survive?

Wondering if its cells tasted as alien as those of its dead companion, Ani reached out to sample them with a wrist spur. Ilto caught her arm before she could pierce its skin.

“No,” he told her. “Let us make sure it’s safe first.”

“It’s going to die unless we stabilize it soon,” Kirito warned.

Ilto flickered agreement. “Which of us is going to do it?”

Kirito rippled blue-grey longing, then brown embarrassment at her selfishness.

Ilto held out a clenched fist and flushed faintly purple. They were going to kenja for the privilege.

They put their hands behind their backs, counted to four, then held out their hands. Kirito’s hand was cupped into the mouth position, Ilto’s fist was flattened into a leaf. Mouth eats leaf. Kirito had won the right to work with the new creature. A ripple of deep green satisfaction crossed her skin.

Ilto and Ani stood watching as Kirito linked with it. She concentrated hard, her nictitating membranes half-covering her blank, unfocused eyes. Gradually the creature’s labored breathing eased, and became steady.

Kirito removed her spurs from the creature, took a deep breath, and looked up at Ilto. “I’ve helped it a little, but I need to do some deep work to stabilize it. Will you monitor me?”

Ani’s ears lifted, this time in surprise. Deep work was dangerous. She remembered the first time she had attempted it. She had become so attuned to the bird she was working on that her heart began to lose its rhythm and her metabolism fluctuated wildly. Despite Ilto’s careful monitoring and rapid intervention, she’d been in a coma for a full day. It had taken six days for her body to return to normal. Now Kirito and Ilto were going to attempt deep work on a creature whose cells were unrecognizably bizarre. It was dangerous, even for them, the two most senior elders in the village. An orange-thread of fear flowed slowly down Ani’s back.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Kirito?” Ilto asked her.

“I’m ready,” she said. Her skin was a calm, resolved chartreuse. “Kiha can fill my place if I die.”

“So am I,” Ilto told her. “Ani is also ready to become an elder.”

The stinging stripes on Ani’s back tightened.

“No, siti. Not yet,” she pleaded, her words pale grey with dread. “There’s so much more to learn. I’m not ready yet.”

Vertical bars of negation flickered across Ilto’s chest. “If I die now, you’re ready to be an elder,” he told her, turquoise with pride and fondness. “Everything else I know you can learn for yourself.”

“We must hurry,” Kirito said, with a tinge of impatience. “The creature is weak and won’t remain stable for long.”

“Don’t worry, Ani. I won’t die,” Ilto said. “Not today. I want to understand this new animal first.”

Ani looked away, not wanting to see any more of his words. Ilto brushed her shoulder with his knuckles and turned to monitor Kirito and the new creature.

Ani loaded her blowgun and stood watching the forest around them. The afternoon thunderstorm had moved on toward the mountains, and the still air was a huge warm exhalation of rot, leaves, and the distant sweetness of flowers blooming high above in the canopy. Up in the trees a gudda lizard boomed out its throbbing call. Distant cries answered it. She scanned the branches. She wasn’t expecting anything to happen. Few predators were foolish enough to attack a Tendu, but it was always wise to be prepared.

Thrashing and a wet snapping noise made her glance down. Kirito was now the same strange, flat shade of brown as the creature. Convulsions racked her body. Her left leg was bent at an odd angle, broken by the force of her convulsions.

Every muscle and sinew of Ilto’s body stood out as he strained, trying to bring Kirito back into harmony. He was white with fatigue, and he was failing. If he didn’t break the link, Ilto would follow Kirito down into death.

The bones of Kirito’s left forearm snapped as Ani watched. Ani tore Ilto’s spur out of Kirito’s arm, breaking the link between them. Ilto cried out in pain, his skin a wordless rush of intense colors. A final violent convulsion racked Kirito’s broken frame, driving her bones through her skin with a rush of brilliant red blood. She lay still, her skin slowly fading to the silvery pallor of death. The humid air was filled with the salty, hot smell of Kirito’s blood and the swampy reek of her voided bowels.

Ani shook Ilto’s arm and patted his face in an attempt to rouse him. When Ilto didn’t respond she linked with him, flooding his body with her presence, forcing him to perceive something other than Kirito’s pain. At last Ilto acknowledged her presence, sending her feeble reassurance. She broke the link.

Ilto lay still for a while, looking up at her, his hand lying limply in hers. He had come so close to dying! He sat up very slowly, refusing Ani’s offer of assistance. Ochre with concern, Ani watched him struggle to sit up. Finally Ilto made it. He sat very still for a few moments; then he reached over and brushed the shoulder of Kirito’s corpse sadly.

“I will miss her,” he said in somber grey. “We shared many memories. Now I’m the only one in the village who remembers that far back.”

Ilto touched the new creature on its forearm. Blood trickled from the spot where Kirito’s spur had penetrated its skin. Before Ani could stop him, he linked with it.

“Siti! No! You’re too weak!” Ani reached out to snatch his arm away, but Ilto broke his link with the creature before she could do anything. He looked down at the strange new animal and the ruin of Kirito’s corpse. A grey cloud of grief flowed over his skin as he stood up.

“Kirito succeeded; it’s stabilized,” he told her. “It will live until we can take it back to the village for more work.” The words on his skin were pale and indistinct with exhaustion. Ani could barely understand him. She brushed his shoulder with her knuckles and Ilto turned to look at her.

“Forgive me for breaking the link, siti, but I thought Kirito was going to take you with her.”

An indistinct pattern of negation rippled across Ilto’s chest. He staggered and then sat, his legs too weak to support him.

With an effort he focused himself. “I need your strength, bai.” He flushed a washed-out shade of brown, embarrassed by his need. He held his arms out to her, spurs up.

Ani linked spurs with Ilto, joining with him in the healing communion of allu-a. Ilto’s blood was sour with fatigue and his energy reserves were dangerously low. She sent sugars into his depleted system to give him energy. Then she broke down the poisons in his blood. Once the fatigue toxins were gone, she scanned him more closely, looking for more subtle problems. It was then that she tasted a faint taint in his blood. It disturbed her, but Ilto broke the link between them before she could investigate further.

“No, bai,” he told her gently. “You’ve done enough. I was following Kirito down to death, and you brought me back. You are as skilled as any elder, and better than spme of them.”

Ani looked away, frightened by the implications of his praise. She looked back at him. “I don’t want to lose you, siti. I’m happy being your bami. I’m not ready to become an elder.”

“You’ve been ready for a long time now,” he told her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.” He sat up then, still a little pale, but better. He needed food, fruit and meat, before he would be ready to travel. Ani pulled several bright blue tumbi out of her gathering bag and gave them to him. Juice ran down Ilto’s chin as he bit hungrily into the sweet fruit. Ani helped him over to the base of a nearby tree, settling him between two massive, buttressed roots.

“We passed one of Hanto’s na trees a while back. I’ll go get some narey and honey,” she told him. She leaped up the tree and bounded through the canopy until she came to the thick-trunked na tree. A swarm of tilan buzzed curiously around her as she reached the tree, but they drew off when they recognized the familiar scent of her tribe. The Tendu’s na trees were carefully guarded. If the bees had not recognized her, they would have descended in a cloud of stinging fury. Few creatures intruded into a tilan-protected na tree more than once.

Ani paused to catch her breath. Allu-a with Ilto had tired her. She pulled two more tumbi out of her satchel, eating one and breaking the other open for the tilan. The bees clustered thickly on the fruit. Misty grey regret clouded her skin. Normally she would have fed them honeydew straight from her wrist spurs, but she was still drained from healing Ilto.

She climbed into the hollow tree trunk, descending past humming chambers of tilan hives until she reached the pool of water at the bottom of the tree. Even though her need was urgent, she felt a little guilty taking food from an elder’s tree without permission. At least this was Hanto’s tree. The young elder respected Ilto. She would be honored to have helped him.

Hanto took good care of her trees, Ani noted with admiration. The tilan were prosperous and the glow fungus illuminating the inside of the trunk was healthy. The water in the pool in the tree’s base was clean and pure. The narey swimming in its depths would be plump and strong.

Ani slid into the dark, rich water, feeling the vibrations of the startled narey as they rushed to bury themselves in the bottom of the tank. She dove after them, reaching down into the thick, oozing sediment with both hands, grabbing a wriggling narey in her claws and stopping its struggles with a quick sting from her spurs. Ilto was popular as a mate. This might even be one of his own offspring. Ilto could easily repay Hanto with narey from his own thriving brood.

Ani paused at the rim of the reservoir to lay a small clutch of infertile eggs to feed the remaining narey. It wasn’t necessary, but Ilto had taught her the virtues of generosity. Once the narey was butchered, she wrapped it in a fresh leaf and put it in her satchel. Then she gathered several large honeycombs from the tilan hives. She ate one, sucking out the sweet honey, and leaving the waxy, indigestible comb for the tilan to eat and recycle back into their hives.

Renewed by her snack, Ani set off, swinging through the trees at a dangerous pace, hurrying back to Ilto. It was dangerous to leave him alone when he was so weak.

She needn’t have worried. Ilto was sitting where she had left him, munching on handfuls of bibbi shoots from his gathering bag.

A good meal restored them both. Ilto sent Ani back to the village to fetch some help. It took twelve Tendu to bring the new animal and Kirito back to the village. Ilto was still too exhausted to do much, so Ani had to organize everything. She half-expected the elders to scold her for telling them what to do, but they followed her orders without question or comment. Their quiet acceptance of her ability to assume command bothered her. It meant that they agreed she was ready to take Ilto’s place.

They laid the comatose animal on the sleeping platform in Ilto’s room. Ani shooed off the curious villagers and helped her exhausted sitik into bed. The new creature was safely in stasis, and could remain like this for half a month if they fed it nutrients and fluids through their aim.

The next morning, Ilto ate an enormous meal, then set to work. He spent the next four days squatting beside the animal, eyes half-hooded, unaware of his surroundings, lost in intense communion with the new creature. Ani monitored him, working in shifts with other elders so that she could rest and eat. She had to keep herself strong in order to provide Ilto with the strength he needed to continue his deep communion.

Ani watched as Ilto studied the minute details of the new animal’s bizarre physiology. A full day passed before he began changing the new creature. First Ilto altered its body processes so they would not react so strongly to foreign substances. That was easy to do. Next, he improved its sight and hearing, so that it could see better in the dark, and hear nearly as well as a Tendu. Then he puzzled out how to make its toes grow long enough to be useful without causing the rest of its bones to change. That was hard, but it gave him the knowledge he needed to create a skin that adequately protected it from the hazards of the forest.

The skin was the most difficult part. It had to shield the creature from all of the things its own body could not, yet still be able to co-exist with, and draw nourishment from, the body it covered. When complete, the skin would extend through its digestive tract and down into its lungs, protecting it from foods that might make it sick and the unseen proteins in the air that had nearly killed the animal before they found it.

Ilto made its skin capable of showing emotion. Ani doubted the creature was intelligent enough to make use of such a gift, but she decided not to share her doubts with Ilto. She was even more dubious about his decision to give it the same protective stinging stripes as the Tendu, but Ani couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Ilto was happier than she had ever seen him, alive with the joy of a challenging task. The bright, sweet tang of his joy filled her allu as she monitored him. The elders spoke of him in shades of awe and admiration. It was like watching a legend come to life.

Ilto emerged from communion in the middle of the fourth night. He was so weak that Ani had to help him into bed. He let some of the elders give him strength, ate a little kayu mush and yarram, and fell into a deep, healing sleep. Ani piled the leafy bedding over him to keep him warm and moist. She made sure the new creature was all right, then burrowed into her own bed and fell asleep.

Ilto woke Ani late the next day, eager to resume working with the animal. Ani managed to make him wait until she had fed him a big meal. She wanted him to rest another day, but he was determined to continue.

Ilto’s frenetic pace was wearing him down. Despite the enormous and frequent meals Ani forced him to eat, and the nutrients that she poured into his body through her allu, the flesh was melting off Ilto’s bones.

The strange taint in his blood grew stronger as well, but Ilto was too obsessed by the new creature to stop and heal himself. He refused to allow Ani to try to clear it out of his blood. Concerned, she turned to Ninto, the one elder who knew Ilto better than she did.

“He’s pushing himself too hard,” Ani told Ninto, “but he won’t rest.”

“He’s as stubborn as an old kular,” the tall, slender elder agreed.

Blue and green amusement flowed over Ani. She had no trouble seeing Ilto as a spiny, irascible anteater.

“There’s no arguing with him when he’s like this,” cautioned Ninto. “He was like this when I was his bami. I don’t think I remember him ever changing his mind, not in all the years I’ve known him. Once he makes up his mind to do something there’s no arguing him out of it.”

Ani suppressed a brown flush of embarrassment at Ninto’s glancing mention of her relationship with Ilto. Most elders raised only one bami, and once it was ready, its sitik either died or left the village. But an elder had died without a bami to succeed him. The village chief chose Ilto’s bami, Ni-ne, to fill the’dead elder’s place. Ni-ne became the elder Ninto. Ten years later, Ilto selected Ani as his second bami. That made Ninto her tareena.

Ani had been with Ilto for many years. Trees they had planted during their first year together now spread their leaves in the sunshine at the top of the jungle’s canopy. But Ninto had been there before her. She knew Ilto as both sitik and fellow elder. Ani and Ninto were the only tareena in the village. It was an unusual relationship, and it set Ani apart from the other bami.

Ninto brushed Ani’s shoulder affectionately, and set aside the gathering bag she was weaving. “I’ll see what I can do,” she reassured her.

Ilto was linked with the new creature when they came in. Ninto joined the link and gently pulled Ilto out of allu-a.

Ilto turned brilliant yellow with irritation. “Can’t you see I’m too busy to be interrupted!” he flared at Ninto. “I thought I trained you better than that!” He launched into a long tirade about manners, lecturing Ninto as though she were still a bami.

To Ani’s surprise, Ninto listened politely. Only a tiny blue flicker of amusement running down Ninto’s back showed she paid absolutely no attention to Ilto’s scolding. Ani’s ears lifted, and she fought back her own amusement.

“Kene,” Ninto said, when Ilto was done, “you are being selfish.”

“In what way am I being selfish?” Ilto asked, his words stiff and formal in response to Ninto’s use of his title.

“You are neglecting the future of our village by mistreating your bami.”

Ani sat up, insulted. “He is not!” But her words went unnoticed. A cautionary pattern flared briefly on Ninto’s back, telling Ani to be still.

“Look how thin and tired she is. You’re asking too much of her.” Ninto motioned to Ani, who came forward out of the shadows.

Ilto linked with Ani. She could feel him probing her physical condition. Brown shame coursed over his skin as he broke the link.

“You’re right,” he told Ninto. “I will put the creature into jeetho tomorrow.” Grey regret clouded his words.

“Not tomorrow,” Ninto said. “Give Ani a day of rest before you work any more with the new animal. The creature’s stabilized. It can wait another day.”

“But—” Ilto protested.

Ani, realizing that by giving her a day of rest Ilto would also be resting, interrupted him with a touch on the shoulder. “Please, siti, I won’t be able to do it tomorrow. I’m too tired.” She turned a pale, sickly white, hating herself for the lie she was telling. “I’m sorry, siti.” That much, at least, was true.

Ani glanced at Ninto’s back, and saw a faint ripple of approval.

“Ani will rest tomorrow. We will put the creature into jeetho the day after tomorrow,” Ilto announced, never admitting he had changed his mind.

Ani glanced over at Ninto, impressed with her skill at manipulating Ilto. She hoped someday she would be that clever. Ninto met her glance and flicked an ear at her.

“Ilto is right,” Ninto said when Ani followed her out to thank her. “You are ready to become an elder. You handled that well.” A mist of regret clouded the colors of her words. “I’ll miss Ilto when he goes.”

“I think Ilto will die rather than leave the village,” Ani said.

“Does it matter?” Ninto asked. “Either way, he will be dead to us here.”

Ani disagreed. She wanted to know Ilto was alive somewhere in the world, even if she never saw him again. She said nothing. Ninto was an elder, and one didn’t argue with elders.

Ninto brushed her knuckles across Ani’s shoulder. “Thank you for letting me help.” She paused, and there was a flicker of color on her chest as though she was about to say something else. Instead she turned and climbed down the trunk.

That afternoon, Ilto took Ani and a tinka to help gather food for the evening meal. Their hunting went well. They killed two plump, scaly mityak and an unwary young moodar, its feathers bright with courtship colors. The tinka found a rotting log full of grubs, and gathered a bag full of bardarr berries. They would eat well tonight. Before returning, they paused to lay out a paste made from yarram and mashed dindi roots as bait to attract mantu. Back at the village tree, they rewarded the tinka with a strip of dried yarram each and a share of the food they had gathered, and returned to their room.

They ate steadily. Every time Ilto paused, Ani handed him some particularly choice delicacy. She wanted to be sure he ate as much as he possibly could before they started working again on the new creature. Ilto also pushed her to eat. At last, her stomach tight and bulging, Ani could eat no more. Ilto sent her to bed. Exhausted, Ani burrowed into her warm, moist bed of leaves and fell asleep.

Ninto woke her. The rank smell of sickness filled the room. Ninto’s skin was clouded with worry. Ani glanced over at Ilto. His breathing sounded ragged and reugh and his skin had the flat, silvery sheen of sickness.

“He drugged you to keep you asleep, and then started working again on the new creature,” Ninto said. “A tinka found him. Since it couldn’t wake you, it got me. Ilto won’t let me help him. He keeps breaking the link.”

Ani linked with Ilto. The alien taint in his blood was stronger than ever. She recognized it now. Some of the new creature’s cells had gotten into his body, and were attacking Ilto.

“Can you do anything?” Ninto asked.

Startled by the question, Ani looked at Ninto for a long moment before replying. If this was beyond Ninto’s skills, then it was probably beyond hers. She would try, though. She was willing to do anything for Ilto.

“It will be deep work,” Ani said. She had never been monitored by anyone other than Ilto.

“I’ll monitor you,” Ninto said, answering her undepicted request.

Ani linked with Ninto and closed her eyes. Ninto’s presence in the link felt so much like Ilto’s. It reassured her as she reached in through the link to sample Ilto’s blood.

With no warning at all, the link broke. Ninto eased Ani back into balance, then gently eased out of the link.

Ani opened her eyes and sat up. She reached out to Ilto to try again.

Ilto’s eyes flickered open. His hands moved away from hers. “No, don’t,” Ilto told her, his words pale under the deathlike silver sheen of his illness. “It might make you sick. I’ll take care of myself. The creature is ready; start the changes and put it in jeetho.”

“Siti, please—” Ani began, but Ilto’s eyes closed and he slid back into unconsciousness. She looked at Ninto, hoping for help.

“He told us not to interfere,” Ninto said, her skin olive-grey with resignation. “There’s nothing more that we can do but let him be and hope he gets better on his own.” She picked up a tumbi and handed it to Ani. “Now, eat. You’ll need your strength. We’ve got to put that thing in jeetho before Ilto recovers enough to start tinkering with it again. I’ve asked Hanto to look after Ilto while we’re busy.”

A large group of mottled brown mantu were feeding placidly on the bait they had left the night before. Ninto and her bami, Baha, helped Ani gather about two dozen of them. The mantu retreated beneath their oval shells as they were picked up.

Back at the village, they hauled an enormous trough from one of the storerooms. Pulling a mantu out of her gathering bag, Ani pried up the horny operculum that sealed the base of the shell. She sank her spur into the soft, yielding flesh beneath, injecting it with an enzyme that began the process of turning the mantu into jeetho, and put the shell in the trough. Ninto squatted beside her, and began stinging the mantu she had gathered.

The mantu flesh began melting as the enzyme took effect. Baha removed the shells, opercula, and any undissolved organs from the slimy grey mass. Nothing of the mantu would go to waste. The shells would eventually become feast platters, the horny operculum would be made into tools and ornaments, and the organs would be fed to the narey.

At last the gathering bags were empty. Ani leaned against the side of the trough. She felt drained and slightly dizzy from the effort of producing so much dissolution enzyme. Normally they only needed a few mantu, but the new creature required a huge batch of jeetho.

After stopping to rest and eat, they resumed work. The jeetho was now a translucent grey jelly, covered with a frothy black scum which they skimmed off. Once the jelly was clean, Ani stuck her wrist spurs into it and injected another trigger chemical. She stirred the jelly, tasting it with a wrist spur. The jelly began to stiffen and turn a faint pink. Ninto stuck a spur into the mass and flushed approvingly.

“You can leave it now,” Ninto said. She brushed her knuckles across Ani’s shoulder. “You did well.”

Ani turned and glanced inquiringly over at Ilto.

“He’s better,” Hanto told her. “He’ll be weak and shaky for a while, but he will recover. He’s a strong old kular. Just don’t let him play with that again,” she said, gesturing with her chin at the new creature.

By morning the jeetho was transformed from a grey jelly into a reddish mass, striated with veins. The surface rippled as air rushed through its primitive respiratory system. Several simple hearts pulsed rhythmically inside it. It was ready to receive the new creature.

Ani injected the strange animal with a trigger chemical to initiate the changes laid down by Ilto. Then they stung the jeetho once again, and laid the animal on it. The jeetho softened, and the new creature began to sink down into it. As Ani and Ninto watched, veins began growing into the creature’s skin.

This was a risky time. The creature would either live or die, depending on how well Ilto had done his work. Could it survive inside the jeetho? Ani stuck a spur into the creature, monitoring its adaptation. Its complex heart beat slowly and strongly in a strange one-two rhythm. The level of oxygen in the creature’s blood dipped as its face was covered, then rose again as the jeetho took over the task of supplying it with oxygen.

Once she was sure the new creature would survive inside the jeetho, Ani broke her link, pushing its arm into the clinging red jelly. The strange animal inside would be fed and nourished by the jeetho until its metamorphosis was complete. She stung the jeetho one last time. In a couple of days the jeetho would develop a tough, leathery skin.

Ani and Ninto hid the creature in a storeroom. When the jeetho’s skin hardened, they concealed the new animal in one of Ninto’s na trees, where it would not tempt Ilto while he recovered.