Return to Eden

CHAPTER TWENTY

When they were once more back among the trees that surrounded the city Kerrick called out. “Wait.”

Herilak looked around warily, listened to the forest noises. “We should go on. It is not safe to stop this close.”

“We must take some time. Look.”

Herilak now saw that Kerrick’s arms and chest were scratched and bleeding where the death-sticks had dug at him with their claws. Kerrick dropped them into the grass and went to the water nearby to wash himself clean.

“You must find a better way to carry them,” Herilak said. “Are they poisonous when they can still move like this?”

“I don’t think so. One of them was chewing on my arm — so I hope they are not.”

“Their teeth are sharp, but they are not poisonous when old. I know, I have had my fingers bitten more than once feeding them. Put the meat from your bag into mine. Cut up the leather to tie them with. But do it quickly.”

Kerrick slashed his bag into ragged strips and tied them about the hèsotsan. Then he bound them into a bundle with the shoulder strap, leaving a loop of strap to carry them by. They went on again as soon as he was done.

Just before dark Herilak killed one of the little running murgu, but did not go near it, left it for Kerrick to butcher. They stayed apart, keeping the weapon he was carrying away from the ones they had captured. Kerrick cut up the still-warm corpse and fed bits of it to the hèsotsan. He and Herilak ate the dried meat, not wanting to light a fire so close to the city.

“I don’t want to go back to the city again,” Kerrick said as they settled down in the darkness.

“We won’t have to — if these death-sticks live. But now we know where to go if more of the creatures die.”

“The risk is too great.”

“No risk is too great — because without them we cannot live.”

In the morning they fed the immature hèsotsan more of the fresh meat, then went north at a steady pace along the track. The rains had ended and the sunlight filtered down through the tall trees, spreading bars of light across the ground.

The sunlight reflected off the crystal eye of the ugunkshaa, clearly revealing Ambalasei’s image as the memory-creature had recorded it. The sounds it made were weak but audible, her meaning clear.

“The river has many tributaries, two at least almost as large as the main stream. It obviously drains a major part of this continent. I intend to go as far upstream as it is navigable, taking water samples at measured daily intervals…”

The sounds of attention-to-speaking drowned out the small voice. Ukhereb turned one eye towards the entrance to see her assistant, Anatempè, standing there.

“What is it?” Ukhereb asked.

“Pain at interrupting meeting of scientific importance, but a fargi with message of singular gravity has arrived. The Eistaa wishes your/both presence.”

“Tell the creature to return with the communication that we attend.”

Anatempè left, but the two scientists did not follow her until they had silenced the ugunkshaa and placed it, and the recording creature, safely away.

“These discoveries — wonderful! Ambalasei is the greatest of the great,” Akotolp said, waddling towards the doorway. Ukhereb signed agreement.

“Even though she says it herself, often enough, I agree. There is none like her alive today. Should we paint our arms out of respect for the Eistaa?”

“Note of urgency obvious in message. Opinion that immediate presence takes priority over decoration.”

Lanefenuu was locked in silent thought when the two scientists entered the ambesed. She turned an eye in their direction, so she was well aware of their presence, but it was some while before she spoke.

“Intelligence/aid desired from Yilanè of science.”

“Command, we obey Eistaa.”

“I do not enjoy the new, do not like the inexplicable. Now there is a new event that displeases me greatly. Yesterday a working party was sent to bring hèsotsan from the growing pit. They did not return. This morning I have sent others to the pit, and among them was Intepelei who has some skill as a hunter. She is here. Listen to what she says.”

Intepelei, a grim and muscular Yilanè, her skin mud-streaked and covered with many small, bloody bite marks, stood close by with two wrapped bundles at her feet. She spoke in a crude but concise manner.

“There were signs of walking around the hèsotsan pit, bent grass, scuffed ground, clear prints of Yilanè feet in mud. Made yesterday. I searched and found nothing. Then I saw that many of the hèsotsan were feeding in the water and not at the spot where meat is left for them. I entered the water, drove them off, and found this. There are two others.”

She bent and picked up the smaller bundle and shook out a Yilanè skull. The scientists signed dismay and shock.

It grew worse. She unwrapped the other bundle to reveal an even more gruesome mass of flesh and bone.

“It is a Yilanè rib cage,” Akotolp said. “Flesh still adheres, tendons and muscle attachments are there.” She poked it with her thumb. “Recently dead, not an ancient body.”

“Could she have been alive yesterday?” Lanefenuu asked.

“Yes, certainly,” she said with modifiers of horror of discovery.

“I feel as you do. Horror and curiosity of reason as well. What happened? Did they fall in? Were they alive or dead when they entered the water? And when I thought of this I remembered the number three. And three hunters who left this city once and never returned. They were searched for but never found. Three and three — and one. The one is the Yilanè who came to this city and seized a male from the sea and who died. Three and three and one. Now I speak to you, Akotolp, and you, Ukhereb, Yilanè of science. Three strange things have happened, three things without explanation and I am not pleased. Now I want you to tell me — are they related? Is there a common factor with three and three and one?”

Ukhereb hesitated, trying to make an evaluation. Akotolp shook the fat wattles of her neck and spoke with feeling. “Common factor. Death of three and one, possibility of death of three. Perhaps certainty, or three would have returned. Death outside our city, coming into our city. Not death from the inside. Facts needed. Birds to fly again.”

“The birds that were used to watch the fleeing ustuzou?”

“Those, Eistaa. They have not been used for a long time. There was boredom of looking at pictures of trees and beach.”

Lanefenuu snapped her jaw with anger. “End of boredom! Something out there is causing death in my city. I want you to find out what is happening. End of mystery — then end of deaths.”

“It shall be as you order. Suggestion of increase in armed guards at all times. More plants of poison to be sown about the walls.”

“Do that. And report daily what you see on all sides.”

The scientists signed obedience and loyalty and left. They walked slowly, deep in thought.

“There has been peace since we returned to the city,” Ukhereb said. “Has killing started again? Have we not had enough? Is it possible that ustuzou of death caused this?”

“They will be searched for. If they are close they will be seen and watched. We would know better if Vaintè were here. She was the greatest killer of ustuzou.”

Ukhereb signed acceptance/rejection. “You served her, I know. She saved your life, you have told me. But death was her only eistaa and that was whom she served. Enough new death now, favor requested, name of Vaintè to be put aside from thoughts.”

For Vaintè all days were identical. They blended together and could not be told apart. The sun in the sky, the fish in the sea, the approach of night. Nothing ever changed.

Now there was a change and she did not like it. The fargi were upset. They came out of the ocean, looked back at the waves, came higher up on the beach and hurried past her. She queried them, she was disturbed herself now, but of course received no reply. Velikrei who was somewhat Yilanè was too distant to hear her, was moving with the others up the beach and under the trees into the swamp. This had never happened before. Vaintè turned from them to the ocean, looked out across the breaking waves to the dark object on the horizon.

Was there something there? Impossible. Nothing, other than the fish and other sea creatures, was ever in the sea. Larger fish, long-toothed and beaked predators came some times, but there was nothing so large that it could be seen emerging high above the water. She felt the fear the others felt now, turned and looked back to the refuge of the trees.

Felt a sudden spasm of anger. She was not one to be afraid. This was a disturbing thought, mostly disturbing in that it made her think again. Something that she was not used to doing. She was upset, hissed with anger and raked the claws of her feet into the sand. Angry at the sea, at the thing in the sea. She looked for it and found that it was closer to the beach now.

And it was familiar. She knew what it was. That was why she felt the surge of sudden hatred, for its presence brought back the anger she had last felt here on this beach.

Deserted.

Cast out.

Left for dead.

An uruketo.

Now she could stand and look at it coldly for the brief spasm of anger was finished. It had really been the memory of an anger long gone. What was there to fear in an uruketo?

She studied it calmly, seeing the black height of its fin, noting the heads of Yilanè who were standing there on its summit. A splash in the sea close by, then another. The enteesenat of course. Lifetime companions of the great living craft. Accompanying it, feeding it, always there.

The uruketo was so close to the shore now that waves were breaking over it, rolling off in sheets of foam. A Yilanè was climbing down to the fin, standing on the creature’s back, water surging about her legs. Something, Vaintè could not tell what, was passed down to her. When the next wave washed about her she dipped the object into the water. That was all she did before climbing back up the fin.

What had she been doing? What was the uruketo itself doing here? The unaccustomed thoughts made Vaintè shake her head in anger. Why was she thinking about these things? Why was she angry?

The uruketo was standing out to sea now, getting smaller. No, it was not heading out to sea but was moving off along the coast. That was important.

But why important? This scratched at her thoughts, made her irritable, so much so that one of the returning fargi fled when it saw the angry movements of her body.

The uruketo had gone north, that was what it had done. That direction was north, the other was south. But it had gone north. The importance of this escaped her for a long while. It was almost dark when she saw Velikrei coming from the sea with a fish, striding with long steps through the surf.

Velikrei had walked like that when she had first arrived with the other fargi. And they had come from that direction too. From the north.

There was a city out there. A city with beaches, where these fargi had been born. A city that they had gone to when they had emerged from the sea. Later they had deserted the city that had deserted them, turned their backs and swum away from it and had come to this beach.

Vaintè stood staring north until it was too dark to see at all any more.