Winter in Eden

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

This island in the river delta was low-lying and half swamp. But a cypress tree had taken root on the southern tip, grown high and wide, its leafy branches creating a welcome pool of shade and relief from the blistering sun. Most of the Daughters were assembled here now, luxuriating in close study of Ugunenapsa’s words. The circle of intent students sitting rigid with the effort of concentration, following Enge’s every gesture and sound. When she had finished her explanation there was only silence as each looked inside herself, seeing if Ugunenapsa’s words were hers as well.

“Questions?” Enge said.

Long moments passed before one of the students, a young, slim Yilanè, a recent convert, tentatively made a motion of attention. Enge signed authority-for-speaking. The student sought for clarity of expression, then spoke.

“Before Ugunenapsa recorded her thoughts, made this momentous discovery, were there others who, perhaps, contribution-of-effort…” She stumbled over her question and Enge came to her rescue.

“Are you asking if Ugunenapsa, our teacher was first in everything — or did she learn from earlier teachers and thinkers?” The student expressed grateful agreement. “If you study Ugunenapsa’s works closely you will find her discussing just this question. She did seek guidance from all the Yilanè thinkers who were concerned with the questions of life and death, but found none to aid her, no prior reference to the problem of its possible solution. When she sought for an explanation of this, for she was humble and would not think that she alone had been graced with singular knowledge, she reached a certain conclusion. What lives and what dies? she asked herself. A Yilanè may die, but a Yilanè city lives forever. Yet at just this time a Yilanè city had died, the first one ever recorded for she searched and searched and found no mention of any other. Yet a city had died of the cold. Then she turned the question over and asked it from the other side. If a city can live and not die — why cannot a Yilanè live and not die? A city had died, just as a Yilanè dies. She was humble and did not believe that the city had died just to lead her to her discoveries. But grateful also in that from death she had discovered life…”

“Attention, information of importance.”

There was a murmur and movement of horror as Ambalasi blocked their view of Enge, interrupting her while she was speaking. Only Enge remained undisturbed by the discourteous act.

“How may we be of aid to Ambalasi, she who saved us.” Reminding them all that the scientist deserved respect above all others.

“I wait patiently for your talking to finish, but finally observe it is endless. Therefore interruption. There is work that needs doing before dark. I need strong thumbs to help me.”

If Enge was eager to help, her cooperative mood was not shared by the Sisters. They had obviously not relished the interruption and had no desire to substitute heavy labor for heady philosophizing. None moved, though one briefly communicated importance-of-teaching. Enge was embarrassed, not angered, by their reluctance.

“I have failed you as a teacher,” she said. “Ugunenapsa has taught us that all life is equal, so all Yilanè are equal, and a request for aid is to be honored as if it were a request for life.” She turned to Ambalasi and signed humility-of-submission. “I shall be the first to hurry to assist you.”

At this the students forgot their pique and pushed forward to show their understanding and compassion.

“Without Enge’s guidance you are stupid as fargi,” said Ambalasi unappreciatively. “I need five of you to carry and assist in planting.” She looked them up and down critically for many were thin and cerebral; selected the ones who looked the strongest and sent them off with her assistant for the supplies.

“You must excuse them,” Enge said. “In their excitement of seeking knowledge they forget the labors of the day.”

“Time-wasters, the lot. Walk with me, there are things we must discuss.”

“Pleasure in obedience to desires.”

“That is true, you sincerely feel that way. But you alone, Enge, you alone. I have never tried to work with creatures as resistant to orders as your Daughters of Lassitude.”

Enge signed understanding and apologies. “There is a reason for this — as there is for everything. Pleasures of association and mutual discovery, without persecution for beliefs, is a strong mixture. It is hard to descend from the heights of cerebration to the depths of manual labor.”

“Perhaps. But it must be done. To eat we must work; I wish you would tell them that with strength-of-argument. Did not Ugunenapsa once say that?”

“Never!”

“Better for all of us if she had. Now come to the shore here and look outward. Can you see the peninsula over there?”

“Not too clearly,” Enge said, peering across the muddy rush of the river. This island was low and flat, as were all the islands of the estuary. Ambalasi made gestures of distaste then indicated the uruketo nearby.

“We can see better from the top of the fin.”

Since there was no dock on this ready shore, the uruketo had been encouraged, by tempting it with fresh fish, to push a channel into the mud with its toothed beak. Now that it was well fed it kept its head wedged into the opening it had made. They stepped carefully onto its slippery, muddy hide and clambered toward the dorsal fin above. The uruketo’s round, bone-reinforced eye moved slightly when they passed, but this was the creature’s only response. They hooked thumbs and toe-claws into the rough skin and climbed. Enge going very slow to match the efforts of the elderly scientist.

“At times… I am that sorry I ever decided to leave Yebèisk…” Ambalasi said, gasping with the effort. “But no sacrifice is too great to advance knowledge. You and I know that, but this intelligence is lost upon your followers.”

Enge made no response, other than signing agreement, respecting Ambalasi’s age and intelligence — and knowing from experience that if anything were to be accomplished, other than interminable arguments, it was better to agree with her most of the time. Ambalasi gaped in air, looked about and registered displeasure, finally recovered enough breath to enable her to talk clearly.

“Look there, you can make it out from up here, on the peninsula, the green patch.”

From this height the long narrow neck of land in the bend of the river, that was to be their city, could be clearly seen. All of the vegetation was yellow and dead — except for a green line in the distance.

“The wall of thorns,” Ambalasi said with satisfaction, the first sign of pleasure she had displayed this day. “The fungus infection has killed off the rest of the plant life — it goes without my saying that the thorns are immune — and the animals have fled or died for lack of nourishment. It is almost time for our ecology to replace the native one.”

“You will plant the seed of the city and it will grow high and strong.” Enge signed great pleasure — which vanished before the angry burst of Ambalasi’s anger.

“End-of-intelligence, closure-of-mind. I make some attempt to study your absurd philosophy — is it asking too much for you to pay attention and understand the most basic facts of the biological sciences? Why are we living in discomfort on this swampy island? We are doing that because it is surrounded by water — as are all islands. The swift-moving stream protects us from being consumed by the carnivores of the mainland. It also means we sleep under rough covering and eat only the few tasteless fish that your sisters so reluctantly catch. We do this while we wait for the wall of thorns to grow that will protect our city. And while we do this we admire and feed the young hèsotsan so they will mature quickly and supply us with weapons to defend ourselves. We do this while we wait for the boats in the pond to mature so we can use them instead of the uruketo which is not suited for inshore work. What we do not do is plant the highly-precious city seed!”

“Interrogative expressed with humble desire for knowledge. Why not?”

“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 to 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.