Return to Eden

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“Has all been loaded as ordered?” Ambalasei asked. Elem signed completeness.

“Everything that was brought to the dock has been put safely into the uruketo and secured. There is also a sufficiency of preserved eel, water enough for a long voyage, the creature itself has been well fed and rested. Doubts only as to destination.

“Entoban*! You were informed. Is memory withering with age?”

“Memory is functioning. It is just that Entoban* is a vast continent, many ocean currents flow around it, specific city/destination assures shortness of voyage.”

“Perhaps it is longness of voyage that is needed. For the moment, for your information of determining course, Entoban* must suffice. There are many cities I must consider, comparisons shall be made. I am tired, Elem, in many ways, and this decision is an important one. I do not crave any more long voyages after this one, nor rough-life at the outer edge of knowledge-seeking. I want a city of comfort that will welcome me, where others can come to appreciate and study what I have learned. A life of physical and mental ease. With food a little more attractive than eel to eat.” Ambalasei looked around at the now empty quarters, turned her back on it. “We leave.”

“Instructions have been issued. A request spoken to me earlier, now made. For Ambalasei to attend the ambesed before departure.”

“Suspicion of motives. Speeches and farewells?”

“I was not informed. Shall we go?”

Muttering complaints and disinterest, Ambalasei went. When they came close she heard the sound of many voices coming from the ambesed. They stilled as she entered.

“All talking of Ugunenapsa,” she said disdainfully. “Great joy approaching me soonest to forget despised same and followers.”

Despite her complaints she was pleased to see them all in attendance, moving aside respectfully as she approached. Enge stood beside the eistaa’s resting place, and none complained now when Ambalasei seated herself there.

“No work being done today, obviously,” she said.

“All are here. It is a collective wish.”

“Is there a reason for this?”

“There is. There was discussion for many days…”

“That I certainly believe!”

“… and many were the suggestions of the correct manner to express the gratitude that we feel, for what you have done for us. After lengthy consideration all were rejected as being insufficient in worth to be truly appreciative of what you have accomplished.”

Ambalasei struggled to rise. “If all were rejected it is now possible for me to leave.”

There was a hum of consternation at this and Enge stepped forward signing negative, remain, urgency, hurrying to make amends.

“You misunderstand, great Ambalasei, or it is my insufficiency in speaking. All other suggestions were rejected in favor of honoring you with that which is most precious to us. The Eight Principles of Ugunenapsa.”

She paused then and there was absolute silence. “This is what was decided. Henceforth and forever they shall be called the Nine Principles of Ugunenapsa!’

It was upon Ambalasei’s lips to ask when Ugunenapsa had returned to dictate the ninth but felt that, even for her, this would be a bit callous. She signed only fairly-courteous attention.

“This is the ninth,” Enge said, moving aside as Omal and Satsat stepped forward. They chanted, in unison, and what they said was echoed by all the listeners.

“The ninth principle of Ugunenapsa. The first Eight Principles exist. They would not exist were it not for great Ambalasei.”

Ambalasei recognized this for what it was, the greatest expression of gratitude that the Daughters of Life were capable of. First for them always, came Ugunenapsa’s words. And now, forever linked with their existence, would be the name of Ambalasei. These argumentative creatures were actually capable of gratitude! For possibly the first time in her long life she could not think of an insulting remark. Could only sign the simplest gesture of acceptance and expression of her own gratitude.

Enge saw this, knew the old scientist far better than Ambalasei would have believed possible. Understood her reactions and appreciated her response. She turned and spoke to the gathering.

“Ambalasei has thanked you all. It is time to leave her in peace. Although she departs today — we now know that she will never leave us. Ambalasei and Ugunenapsa, forever joined.”

They filed out in silence until only Enge remained. “May I walk with you to the uruketo? We have walked together many times, and I have learned much from you wise Ambalasei. Shall we go?”

Ambalasei struggled to rise, felt Enge’s strong thumbs helping her, stood and walked slowly from the ambesed with her at her side. They went through the city in silence, until Ambalasei signed that she wished to rest in the shade for the sun was very hot. When they stopped to cool Enge signed request for information.

“Never refused, Enge, you know that. Without my continuing aid, yours and the entire Yilanè world, would be a poorer place.”

“That is true. Which is the reason for my question. I am concerned. You speak always of your disbelief in Ugunenapsa and I find that both disconcerting and difficult to comprehend. You analyze our problems with great precision and aid us in understanding them better. But what of you yourself? What is your personal understanding? I hope that you will tell me. Is it your belief that Ugunenapsa’s Nine Principles are correct?”

“No. Except for the ninth that is.”

“Then — if you doubt that which is most important to us, why do you aid us?”

“A question I never thought you would ask. Are you asking it now because you have finally realized that I do not hold to your beliefs, never will?”

“Ambalasei is all-seeing, all-knowing. That is indeed the reason that I ask.”

“The answer is a simple and obvious one — from my point of view. Like all Yilanè of science I care how life functions, relates, continues, changes, dies. This is the Yilanè way, has been, is now, will be. I am satisfied with it. But I am not closed-minded like all of the others. I wanted to study your group, and your Ugunenapsa, because she is the first thinker to ask a different question. Not how things work — but why? Most intriguing. Asking why has aided me in my own research and speculation, and I am grateful to you for that. If not for all the physical difficulties it entailed. When Ugunenapsa asked why for the first time something new came into our world. Asking why produced her principles, these in turn produced the Daughters of Life — who produced endless trouble by refusing to die in a normal Yilanè manner. It also produced an entirely new attitude to Yilanè ways. If the fact should be known, and I think it must be, I care nothing at all for Ugunenapsa or her theories. What I have really been interested in is studying you.”

Enge was shaken, signed incomprehension, desire for explanation.

“I shall of course furnish that. Consider our ways, consider the Yilanè relationship, one to the other. The eistaa rules and all below obey. Or die. Fargi emerge from the ocean and are completely ignored. They are supplied with food, only because if they died that would be the end of all Yilanè, but given nothing else. If they persist, and have the will and the drive to learn, they become yilanè and may form part of the life of the city. Most don’t. They wander off and, I presume, die. It must be said therefore, that all we Yilanè have offered one another is rejection and death. You however, Enge, offer compassion and hope. This is a very unusual and new thing.”

“Hope signifies possibility of better tomorrow. I do not understand the other term.”

“Nor could you be expected to since it is of my own construction, to describe a new concept. I mean an understanding of the unhappiness of others, linked with a desire to alleviate their miseries. This is why I have aided you. So stay here, stay safe in your city and study the why of life. I doubt if we shall speak again once I leave.”

It was too abrupt, the parting had come too swiftly. And Ambalasei, with her usual stark frankness, had pointed out that they would undoubtedly never meet again. Enge’s body moved as she searched for words and movements to express how she felt, could find nothing that was satisfactory.

Then they had reached the water’s edge and Enge could still find nothing to say to express the depth of her feelings. In the end she simply touched Ambalasei’s thumbs, as she would those of one of her efensele and stepped away. Without a backward glance Ambalasei took Setessei’s waiting hand and was helped onto the uruketo. Elem looked down from the top of the fin, ready to issue the orders to leave, when the crewmember beside her signed for attention, pointed out into the river. She turned in the indicated direction, looked with rigid concentration.

“Urgency of listening,” she called down to those below. “There is something distant in the river. Strong possibility of identification suggests — it is an uruketo.”

“Impossibility,” Ambalasei said, trying to peer into the distance. “Setessei, with eyesight of raptor, what do you see?”

Setessei climbed partway up the fin, did not speak until she was sure.

“It is as Elem has said. An uruketo coming in this direction.”

“Impossibility of accidental discovery. If thin Ukhereb or fat Akotolp is aboard it signifies close attention to my notes. Undoubtedly a research voyage of their own. I still leave.”

“Yilanè of science are always welcome,” Enge said, looking out at the approaching uruketo. “We will learn from them — and they can possibly learn from us.”

Ambalasei did not have Enge’s placid acceptance of life. It had been her experience that most surprises turned out to be unwelcome ones. Despite this knowledge her curiosity won and she did not sign Elem to leave, but looked instead at the approaching creature with dark suspicion. There were Yilanè now visible on top of the uruketo’s fin; identities still unknown. There was too great an element of chance to life. If she had left yesterday she would not have been present when this uruketo arrived. There was no point in even considering that now. Like the true scientist she waited stolidly for new evidence before she decided if the newcomer was welcome. Or not.

Setessei spoke and decided that. “One on the fin is a hunter of your acquaintence from Yebèisk, the one known as Fafnepto.”

“Unwelcome,” Ambalasei said firmly. “Yesterday would have been a far better day to depart. We can expect nothing of benefit to arrive from Yebèisk. Do you know the others?”

“An uruketo commander, also from Yebèisk. The third is unfamiliar.”

“Known to me,” Enge said, with such dread and hatred in her speaking that Ambalasei was shocked, had never heard Enge like this before. “One known as Vaintè, once my efensele, now rejected and despised. She was wise and led. Now death is her only follower.”

Silence gripped them as they watched the dark form of the uruketo loom up and approach the dock, sending small waves slapping against the wood. Ambalasei considered boarding her own uruketo and leaving, realized it was too late when Fafnepto raised up a hèsotsan where it could be seen. There was no ignoring this message. This uruketo had brought a most unwelcome cargo.

Fafnepto jumped ashore and strode towards them, the hèsotsan firmly in her grip, with Vaintè, unarmed, only a pace behind. Ambalasei signed rejection and disgust.

“Is there a reason, Fafnepto, why you approach in such an insulting manner and draw negative attention to that weapon?”

“Good reason, Ambalasei. There is but a single hèsotsan present and I hold it. Therefore I issue the commands. I have been commissioned by Saagakel, Eistaa of Yebèisk, to follow and find you. To return there with this uruketo that you took without her permission.”

“Wrong. It was mine to use with her permission.”

“To use, yes, but Saagakel believes this use was not the one she originally intended.”

“A matter of opinion. I assume that you wish to return the creature to Saagakel. Then take it.”

“You as well, Ambalasei. The Eistaa would have you return as well. A refusal would not be accepted.”

Ambalasei’s body arched with scorn. “If I refuse — will you kill me, hunter?”

“Yes. And use your assistant’s skill to preserve your body so that I can return with it, proving that my commission has been accomplished. Perhaps Saagakel will hang your tanned skin on the city’s walls.”

“Silence!” Enge commanded so strongly that Fafnepto recoiled, raising her weapon. “That a creature of such small worth should speak this way to a scientist of Ambalasei’s standing is unacceptable/despicable. Silence and instant departure of uruketo ordered.”

Fafnepto kept her weapon ready, looked coldly at Enge, ready for any attack. Vaintè stepped forward and signed threat/impossible.

“This one cannot commit violence,” she said. “She is Enge who is a Daughter of Life/Death and can injure nothing.

Fafnepto lowered the hèsotsan and signed contempt. “Then she is the one of whom the Eistaa spoke. We have no need of her, she is of no concern to us. Just the uruketo and Ambalasei will return. These are my orders. I was also commanded to kill any who stood in my way.”

Vaintè signed agreement. “A wise decision. These creatures spread only dissent. Killing them is an act of kindness. I am surprised that the eistaa of this city permits their presence.

“There is no eistaa here,” Enge said with cold contempt. “Leave. You are not welcome. This is the city of Ugunenapsa and you are not welcome.

“Not welcome? To this fine city. Impossible to believe. I will speak with the eistaa.”

“Do you not listen, creature of stupidity?” Ambalasei said. “There is no eistaa here. I grew this city, so I know whereof I speak.”

A gasping and muffled sound of attention to speaking sounded loudly from the uruketo. Akotolp was clambering down from the fin, clumsily because of her fat and the container she carried.

“Teacher… Ambalasei,” she said. “This is Vaintè whom I serve. You should listen to her because she is wise in every way. It was I who brought her your records, see they are here now, and she understood them and led us to this place.”

“I think I have heard enough from you, Akotolp,” Ambalasei said scornfully. “In the name of science I brought you my research and my findings. And to what use do you put them? You have led these repulsive creatures here. Now lead them away again.”

“Enough empty talk,” Fafnepto commanded. “These are my orders.” She signed up at Elem. “You and all the others aboard, you are commanded to instantly leave that uruketo, for it will return to the city where it belongs. We depart for Yebèisk at once — with both uruketo.”

“And what of these creatures?” Vaintè asked, pointing to Enge. “And what of their city?”

“It is of no concern of mine. We leave.”

“I stay.”

“That is your choice.” Fafnepto turned to Elem who still had not moved. “Were my orders not clear? Out of the uruketo.”

Akotolp had placed the container she carried on the ground and opened it. Vaintè bent and reached inside. Fafnepto was aware of the motion, turned to see what was happening. Quickly raised her hèsotsan.

She was too late. The hèsotsan that Vaintè had removed from the container cracked once and the hunter crumpled and fell. The spectators were rigid with shock. All except Akotolp who had been expecting this. She waddled over and took the hèsotsan from the corpse’s hand. Radiated smug satisfaction as she went to stand beside Vaintè.

“Now,” Vaintè said. “Now you will hear my commands.”