Winter in Eden

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

The new city had to come first, Ambalasi knew that, but she regretted every moment not spent studying the Sorogetso. That was what she had named these close relations of the Yilanè, the silent ones, for though they could communicate it appeared that they could do so on only the simplest of terms, as though they were still young elininyil in the sea. Even this was only an assumption made after her first contact with them; this success had not been repeated. The Sorogetso did not come near the wasteland of the peninsula, but stayed hidden in the jungle beyond. And she was too occupied with the endless problems of growing a city, with the indifferent help of the Daughters of Desperation, to have any opportunity to seek them out. She was also feeling her age.

Now she lay in the shade of a quick-growing shrub and examined the culture specimens in her sanduu. The eyelens of the greatly mutated creature was in the sunlight, the projected image clear in the shadow. Most of the microscopic life was familiar to her. There were no pathogens to see, nor had any harmful fungi grown in the sterilized soil. Good.

“Send for Enge,” she ordered her assistant Setessei, who had been changing specimens for her.

Then she lay back on the resting board and sighed. Life was too short for all that she wanted to do. Lanefenuu had been generous to her and life in now-distant Ikhalmenets a pleasure of relaxed research. How many years had she stayed there? She had lost count. She would be there still had she not grown interested in the biological aspects of the Daughters’ philosophy. Then, on sudden impulse, she had thrown away all the comfort in exchange for this rude plank under a spiny shrub. No! — her body moved with the strength of her thoughts. Perhaps the study of the Daughters of Despair had been a mistake — but the voyage here had not been. What a wealth of new material she had discovered; how she would be revered for bringing it all to the attention of scientists in Entoban* still unborn. She savored the thought. Just the gigantic eels alone were important — not to mention an entire new continent. And one other thing of importance, many-times-amplified importance.

The Sorogetso. Patience, she must be patient. Proceed one step at a time. She needed security, peace, quiet to work. She needed the city to work in, the worthless sisters to provide her with necessities and comforts while she studied the Sorogetso. For this reason, if none other, the city must be grown quickly and perfectly. She sighed again, she had been over this chain of thought far too often before. Like it or not this was what she would have to do.

A shadow crossed her vision and she realized that Enge had appeared, was waiting patiently while she finished the interior conversation with herself. Ambalasi rolled one eye toward her and signed for close attention.

“We have reached an important moment in the development of this new city . The wall is strong, the worthless growth cleared away, shade shrubs growing. This patch of earth beside me has been dug and redug, sterilized and fertilized and is as ready as it ever will be. There is only one thing left to be done. Plant the city seed.”

She took it from its container and held it up. Enge dropped forward on her knees in silent admiration. She stared at the gnarled brown shape for long moments before she spoke.

“First and foremost in my life was my discovery of Ugunenapsa. Now, this is surely the next most important moment in my existence. For this we have only you to thank, great Ambalasi, and have called this entire new land in your name to honor you. You have brought us freedom, brought us across the ocean, brought us to Ambalasokei where you will grow our city for us. May I call the others to watch the planting?”

“The planting is important — not the moment. They should keep working.”

“They will want to honor the planting. Honor you.”

“Well — if you insist. But it is a dreadful waste of time.”

Word spread swiftly and the Daughters hurried from their labors, their mouths spread wide in the noonday heat. They grouped in silence around Enge, pushing close to see the depression that she had scooped in the soft ground. She was now soaking it with water under Ambalasi’s direction.

“That is enough, you don’t want to drown or rot it,” the old scientist said. She held up the seed and the Daughters swayed in silent reverence. “Now — which of you is going to plant it?”

To Enge’s chagrin a number of ardent discussions sprang up; arms moved swiftly and palms flashed color.

“We must discuss…”

“What would Ugunenapsa want done?”

“It is a matter of precedent. Those who came to Ugunenapsa first must be the wisest. So we should choose by precedent, question all…”

“Respectful request for silence,” Enge said, repeating it with modifiers of importance and urgency until they finally fell silent. “There is only one single Yilanè suited for this momentous task: she who brought us here, she who brought the city seed, she is the one who shall plant it.”

“Stupid waste of time,” Ambalasi said, groaning as she rose to her feet, yet flattered despite her broadcast disdain. Garrulous and argumentative the Daughters might be — but at least they knew enough to respect intelligence and ability. She shuffled to the edge of the damp hole in the soil, the seed clutched between her thumbs.

“With this ceremony…” Enge began, and stopped, shocked, as the scientist simply dropped the seed into the hole, kicked some soil over it, then returned to her resting board, calling out as she walked.

“Water it some more — then all of you get back to work.”

In the horrified silence that followed Enge recovered first, stepped forward, fumbled for the right expressions.

“With thanks, great thanks, to Ambalasi highest among the highest. She has honored us by planting the seed for our city, the first city of the followers of Ugunenapsa. As we have discussed, many times over and over…”

“I am sure of that!”

“… there can be but one name for this city. It will be called Uguneneb, the City of Ugunenapsa , and will be honored forever by that name.”

Movements of pleasure, cries of happiness. Twitches of disdain from Ambalasi who now called out.

“Enough. To work. There is much to do. You, Enge, stay. But order the rest of these creatures to their tasks.”

“They cannot be ordered—” She saw Ambalasi’s growing anger and turned swiftly to the crowd. “In Ambalasi’s honor, and in honor of Ugunenapsa who guides us all, we must grow this city well so we must now return to our chosen duties. I remind you of our mutual decision. We will do what must be done.”

She turned back to Ambalasi who made a sign of importance in the direction of the jungle as she spoke. “I think that now we shall begin our work with the Sorogetso. Have they been observing us?”

“They have. As you requested all sightings of them have been reported to me. They watch from the shadow of the trees very often, come even closer along the riverbank.”

“They have not been approached?”

“No, you ordered that. But they have been observed. There are three of them watching us now.”

“What? Why have I not been told?”

“Your instructions were to observe and record — not act.”

“There are times when independent thought is called for. I am surprised at your lack of enterprise, Enge.”

Enge knew better than to answer this impossible statement. Ambalasi stood and looked about. “Where are they? I see nothing.”

“That is because you look in the wrong direction. Behind you, at the river’s edge, there is a ledge above the water with new shrubs growing on it. They swim there daily and observe us from hiding.”

“They have not been disturbed?”

“No, of course not.”

“Occasionally, presumably by complete chance, your followers do something right. We will now consider contacting the Sorogetso. I will go and begin communication.”

“No,” Enge said, with signs of strength and command.

Ambalasi fell back, shocked, for in living memory she had never been spoken to in that manner. Enge addressed her again, quickly, before the volcano of the scientist’s temper blew her away.

“I told you earlier of my studies of communication. I will tell you now that I have developed theories of sound-color-movement which I will be pleased to explain to you. I have also worked long to study fargi and elininyil communication, and have done the same with males in the hanalè. I have searched the records and have discovered that I am the only one who has done this for a very long time. Since I am a specialist I know you will want to listen to my suggestions.” She saw that Ambalasi was swelling with anger, ready to explode. “You did not chastise Elem for exercising her specialized knowledge to feed the uruketo,” she added quickly.

Ambalasi fell back — and made an easy motion of subtlety appreciated.

“In the fullness of time you are no match for me, Enge, but occasionally you present a glimmer of light that brings me amusement. I am very tired so will take this opportunity to lie in the shade and listen while you explain.”

“First,” Enge said, raising a thumb with a positive gesture, for she had pondered long and hard about this, “one must go alone — just as you went with the fish.”

“Accepted. If I am the one.”

Enge did not stop to argue, but went on.

“Secondly, a rapport must be established. They have taken our food, symbolic of sharing, but must now be satisfied on a different level. They will wonder just what sort of creatures we are, what we are doing here — but they must not be answered all at once. Knowledge must be shared. If I give them something I will want something in return.”

“And how will this be done?”

“If you watch — why you will see.”

Enge turned quickly away before Ambalasi’s ready wrath could engulf her. Turned and walked slowly toward the shrubs that concealed the Sorogetso watchers.

She walked more and more slowly when she saw concerned motions, finally stopped and settled back comfortably onto her tail. Close enough to be understood, but not so close that she might be considered a threat. She held out the palms of her hands.

“Friend,” she said, over and over again, in the simplest manner possible, using colors alone without verbalization. She stopped and looked at the shrubs. When there was no reaction from the hidden watchers she repeated herself once again. Her body at ease, she was not impatient; she radiated calm and serenity. “Friend.” That was all she would say. It was now up to them.

“Friend.”

The sun moved across the sky and the Sorogetso stirred restlessly. Finally one of them pushed through the shrubs and stood close in front of them, her eyes vertical slits against the glare. She was not the same individual that they had met in the jungle, but was taller and more muscled and stood with a chin-jutting arrogance. When Enge made no move the newcomer raked her claws on the ground in a simple aggressive movement.

“No fear,” Enge said. “Do not fear me.” The Sorogetso was puzzled and she repeated it in different ways, always as simply as possible until the Sorogetso understood and her crest came erect with anger.

“Me… fear… no! You… fear.”

Contact had been established, but Enge permitted none of her pleasure to show. Instead she simply flashed the colors of friendship again. Then her name.

Ambalasi watching from a distance could make out none of the details of this first contact. But it lasted until the sun was low in the sky, then ended suddenly when the Sorogetso turned about, pushed through the shrubs and dived headlong into the water. Enge walked slowly back, her body stiff and uncommunicative.

“I hope that your time was wisely spent,” Ambalasi said. “Though from here I saw very little happen.”

“Much happened, much communication.” Enge’s speaking was muffled, for she was abstracted and deep in thought. “I insisted that the one who came forward should follow my lead, do as I did. I told my name and made strong reassurances that we were here in peace. I repeated that we wish only to help them, give them food if they wanted it. This was enough for the first contact, to get across basic concepts like that.”

“Basic indeed. I hope it has not been all a waste of time. Did you at least get the creature’s name?”

“Yes.”

“Well, speak then. What is she called?”

“Eeasassiwi. Strong-fisher. But that is not her name.” Enge hesitated before Ambalasi’s signed confusion, then spoke again with slow precision.

“We cannot say that it is her name.

“We must say instead that it is his name.

“Yes, that is right, this strong-fisher is a male.”