by Amy Thomson
“Do you understand the choice?” Ukatonen asked.
The little alien’s ears flicked up and back, something Juna had seen the tinka do before, when they acknowledged a direct command.
“Do you understand that if you agree to be adopted by the new creature, that she will leave, and that I will become your new sitik?”
The tinka’s ears flattened, and it looked away for a moment, then looked back at them, flicking its ears up and back in agreement.
“Do you understand that you must obey Ukatonen and Anito as though they were your sitik, and listen to them as you would listen to me?” Juna asked.
The tinka’s ears flicked up and back several times.
“What do you choose, the village or the new creature?” Ukatonen asked.
The tinka looked from Juna to Anito and back again, and then pointed at Juna with its chin. It held its spurless wrists out, as though asking to link with her.
Ukatonen looked at Juna. “I ask you one last time: are you willing to adopt this tinka as your bami?” His words were displayed in such formal patterns that Juna had to look at Anito for a translation.
Juna nodded. “Yes, I accept this tinka as my bami,” she replied in the most formal speech she knew.
Ukatonen turned to the tinka. “I ask you one last time: will you accept this new creature as your sitik?”
The tinka’s ears flicked up and back as it agreed to accept Juna as its sitik.
“It is decided. The formal ceremony will take place after we arrive at Narmolom,” Ukatonen said. He dropped back into casual language and posture. “I saw a tree with some ripe trangin on it back that way. Please go and gather some of them while Anito and I hunt.”
Juna and the tinka returned with a bulging sack of the spiny orange fruit. The tinka also found some edible fern shoots and stuffed a leaf packet with fat, wriggling grubs. Anito and Ukatonen had killed a large ground lizard with a long, flexible snout, black in color with beautiful golden stripes across its hindquarters. Juna had seen them before; they ranged over the jungle floor in herds of up to a dozen, scavenging fallen fruit from the forest floor.
The evening meal was a feast. Ukatonen and Anito took turns pressing delicacies on the tinka. It ate until its stomach was hugely distended. The two older aliens gorged themselves as well. Juna was a bit more hesitant, especially about the wriggling grubs, which proved to be surprisingly rich and tasty. The trangin, which smelled vile when broken open, also proved delicious.
By the next day, the tinka was able to travel on its own, clinging to Juna only when it was too tired to keep up the pace. That afternoon, in the midst of a heavy rain, they crossed the flooded stream that marked the southwest boundary of the territory encompassed by Anito’s village. Anito flushed a joyous turquoise, and let out a booming call. They paused while she listened intently. At last came a distant reply. Anito looked back inquiringly at Ukatonen.
“Go on ahead. We’ll follow you,” Ukatonen said, rippling mild amusement at Anito’s eagerness. Anito leaped through the canopy, and was soon lost to sight, although her loud cries were clearly audible. Juna thought that she saw a faint cloud of regret pass briefly over Ukatonen.
“What’s the matter, en?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Ukatonen replied, his words yellow-edged with irritation. “It’s been a long trip. It will be good to rest.”
They continued through the treetops in the pouring rain. Wide areas of the lowlands were already flooded. Near the river, the lower branches of the canopy were barely out of the water. They had to move carefully there, for the branches were crowded with stinging insects and poisonous snakes which had climbed up into the canopy to escape the rising water.
“They will be leaving very soon for the coast,” Ukatonen reflected. “It is good that we got here when we did.”
About an hour later, a crashing of branches heralded Anito’s return. “I’ve spoken with Hinato. She will let the village know that we’re on our way. We should be there by tomorrow night, if we hurry.”
Laughter flickered over Ukatonen at Anito’s desire to be off. “We’ll do our best. Please go on ahead of us if you wish.”
Thanks flashed over Anito’s back as she swung off in the direction of Narmolom.
Ukatonen shouldered his bag. “Let’s go,” he said. They set off after Anito and traveled until dark. They ate a simple meal of fruit, dried meat, honey, and seaweed, along with some pickled greens. Ukatonen gave the tinka extra-large portions. It tore into the food as though it was starving, despite a large breakfast and lunch, as well as several snacks during the day.
“You’d think that it hadn’t eaten for days!” Juna remarked.
“It’s healing, and it’s getting ready to become a bami. Both of those are good reasons to eat,” Ukatonen remarked.
“How does it become a bami, en?”
“Normally, an elder links with the tinka and transforms it, but you don’t know how. I will perform the transformation for you.”
“Thank you, en.”
The enkar looked down and then back up at Juna. “I will become the tinka’s sitik when you leave. It is right that I should be the one to transform it.”
“I hope—” Juna started to say something, then stopped.
“What?” Ukatonen prompted.
“I was concerned that I had caused trouble for you. If I were a Tendu, then I wouldn’t have gone back to save the tinka’s life. I wouldn’t have caused so much trouble.”
“Living is trouble, death is easy,” Ukatonen replied. “The tinka was brave and determined. If you had been a Tendu, there would have been no trouble.”
“Won’t caring for the tinka after I’m gone be a burden?”
Amusement flowed over Ukatonen’s body, glowing in the darkness. “Only a light one. Enkar sometimes adopt a bami. This tinka will lighten my loneliness when you go. For that I thank you.”
“What is an enkar? What do you do that sets you apart from other Tendu?” Juna asked.
“We travel from village to village and help with difficult problems, ones that the villagers cannot solve themselves. Sometimes an outsider is needed to make difficult decisions. Because of this, the enkar do not belong to any village. We are always alone.” Ukatonen looked away, out into the velvety darkness of the jungle. The constant clamor of the forest sounded suddenly loud. “It is late, and we have done much today. It is time to sleep,” Ukatonen said. “We will start early tomorrow.”
With that, the subject was closed. Juna got up and settled herself beside the tinka, under a pile of fresh leaves. For a while she listened to the noise of the jungle. Then the weight of her day’s travel descended upon her, and she fell asleep.
Ukatonen woke them before dawn. They ate a scant and hurried breakfast, and were on their way as the first pale fingers of light cut through the dense, wet morning fog. As they drew near the village, Juna began to recognize subtle indications of heavy use in this area of the jungle: tree limbs whose bark was worn smooth from the passage of many hands and feet, patches of tree ferns that showed signs of heavy foraging. A couple of months ago, she would never have noticed these things. This patch of jungle would have seemed the same as any other.
Several elders came to greet the travelers, and escorted them the last couple of kilometers. When they reached the village tree, everyone hailed them enthusiastically, draping Ukatonen and Juna with garlands of flowers and greenery. A few garlands were even draped around the neck of the tinka. They were washed and led to a large, ceremonious feast of welcome in the bowl of the great tree crotch. Anito’s skin was alive with chatter as she caught up with the news of the village. It was clear that she was extremely pleased to be among her own people again.
Chapter 15
It is time to begin the tinka’s transformation,” Ukatonen declared, the evening following their arrival in Narmolom.
Anito straightened, ears wide. She hadn’t expected the transformation to take place so soon.
The tinka held
out its arms, ears wide and quivering with excitement.
Ukatonen held his arms out to Eerin and lifted his ears inquisitively. “Eerin?” he offered.
Eerin flared orange when she realized what he was asking.
“Please,” she pleaded. “Is it absolutely necessary?”
Ukatonen nodded. “Do you wish to change your mind about the adoption?”
The tinka looked anxiously at Eerin. Anito suppressed a flash of hope. Perhaps the new creature would back out now. It would be tragic for the tinka, of course, but it would be the new creature’s fault for encouraging it in the first place.
The adoption still felt terribly wrong to Anito, but she couldn’t prevent it without the support of the other villagers. Protesting a decision made by the enkar who was to choose Narmolon’s new chief was unthinkable, especially for those elders who wanted to be chief. Besides, everyone was busy preparing for the journey downriver. They didn’t have time for this.
Anito hesitated for another reason. If an enkar’s formal decision was wrong, he or she paid for it with their life. If Anito managed to prove that Ukatonen’s decision was wrong, then he would be forced to take his own life. There had been too much death already. Anito couldn’t bring herself to initiate a fight that might lead to Ukatonen’s death.
“No,” Eerin said. “I don’t want to change my mind about adopting the tinka, but I don’t wish to link unless I have to.”
“I understand,” Ukatonen told her. “Do you understand that if you adopt this tinka, you will need to link with it?”
“Yes,” Eerin replied, “but I don’t want to link unless it’s necessary. Is it necessary for me to link now?”
“Yes, it is. Will you join the link?”
“Yes, en.”
“All right then,” he said holding out his arms. “Anito, will you join us?”
Anito flickered acknowledgment and joined spurs with them. Fear sang through Eerin, like the vibrations in a tightrope that has been plucked. The tinka grasped Ukatonen’s arm eagerly, and reached for Eerin. The new creature suppressed her fear and grasped the tinka’s arm. They descended into the link. Ukatonen reached out to soothe Eerin. When she was calm, his presence moved through the tinka, exploring its immature body. Anito noticed the beginnings of deterioration in the joints, in the immune system, and in its vital organs. Had the tinka stayed in Lyanan, it would almost certainly have lost its place in the village to a younger, stronger tinka in less than a year.
Ukatonen’s presence hovered momentarily around the tinka’s tiny, undeveloped sexual organs, exploring. The tinka was male, another strike against it, particularly in a village where food would be in short supply for the next few years. Unripe eggs laid by female bami were a source of critical nutrients for the developing tadpoles. As a result, female tinka were more sought after as bami than male tinka. Clearly the tinka’s desperation had made him stake his life on Eerin’s acceptance.
Ukatonen continued his exploration of the tinka’s body. It was healing well. Ukatonen worked on the almost-healed wounds, breaking up bits of scar tissue and clearing away the last bits of the fine thread that Juna used to close the tinka’s wounds. It was only a formality. The tinka didn’t need healing. His own body was strong enough to mend well. That was a good sign.
Ukatonen reached out to Eerin, joining her with the tinka, binding the tinka’s presence to Eerin’s, so that his body would recognize her as his sitik. Eerin let it happen, though Anito could still feel the flutter of suppressed fear. Anito felt the tinka reach out, enfolding Eerin, calming her, merging with her.
A tart wave of satisfaction indicated that Ukatonen was ready to begin the transformation. He released a bright, sweet flood of transformation hormones. It was the flavor of life, of hope. A wave of powerful nostalgia swept over Anito. She remembered awakening from her own transformation with that taste in her mouth. She half-expected to open her eyes and find Ilto hovering solicitously over her.
She remembered how her first real thoughts had bubbled up from her brain. They were clear and sharp, unlike the hazy, frightened memories she had of being a tinka, and the muddy sensations of a narey. At first she had thought that an elder was somehow speaking to her inside her head, but then she felt her own awe and fear and wonder and realized that she was the source of that voice.
Ukatonen triggered the changes that would cause the neurons in the tinka’s brain to replicate and branch, make the small body begin to grow. He also made the tinka capable of skin speech.
With that, Ukatonen was done; a new bami was created, a new future begun. Ukatonen released the sweetness of his own joy into the link between the four of them. Anito responded in kind, her doubts about the tinka’s adoption swept away in the joy of the moment. Together they soared higher and higher, each feeding off the other’s joy. Eerin was carried along, her fear washed away by their shared exultation. Then Ukatonen broke the link. Eerin was so drained by the experience that she hardly noticed when they eased her into bed. Then Anito slid gratefully into her own bed and fell asleep.
When she arose the next morning, Anito ate, drank, and washed, then went over to the bed where the new bami lay, and sank a spur into his arm to check his progress. He was doing well. If everything proceeded smoothly, he would be ready to awaken in another couple of days. She left the bami to sleep, and went to see what was happening outside. It was raining hard, streams of rain pouring down the inside of the trunk. The village bustled with preparations for the annual migration to the coast. Tinka and bami hurried up and down the tree, ferrying gourds and baskets to the upper storerooms where they would be safe from the coming flood.
Anito followed the stream to the broad beach where the villagers were making the final preparations for the long, hard trip downriver. Ukatonen and Eerin were helping Ninto and Baha tighten the lashings on their raft. With a faint ripple of regret Anito took the braided rope that Ukatonen handed her. She owed a considerable number of obligations to Ninto and the other villagers who helped gather the materials for this raft while she was traveling back from Lyanan. Without their help, she would have been stuck here alone during flood season, unable to trade downriver. That would have left her with nothing to trade to the mountain people during the dry season. She needed to trade [[w« .1]] this trip so that she could settle her debts before Ukatonen took her away to become an enkar.
They had very little time. In another couple of days this beach would be under water, and the villagers would be setting out on migration. Fortunately, Eerin was clever with her hands and had rigged up a device that enabled them to tighten the lashings more quickly and tightly than they could have managed by hand. With Eerin’s help they finished the raft before nightfall. That gave Anito an extra day to gather some much-needed trade goods.
Most of her trading stock came from Ilto’s stores, plus a few small things that she had made or picked up while traveling. There were several large rolls of waxed sinew thread, enough to make some fish nets while they rafted downriver. She also had several stonewood fish traps, and a box full of carved bone fishhooks. Ilto’s supplies yielded several large gourds of preserved fruit, two dozen pots of honey from his na trees, and eight gourds of beeswax. There was a large waterproof basket filled with dried grass, and several bundles of cured reeds. It wasn’t much, but if she traded carefully, it might be enough to pay off the obligations she’d incurred.
Late the next afternoon, Anito and the others finished securing their trade goods on the raft. When they were done, they went back to check on the new bami. His mottled skin had faded to the even pale green of a healthy bami, and he slept peacefully, his breathing even and deep. Ukatonen linked briefly with the bami.
“He’s ready to wake,” the enkar announced, rippling with satisfaction.
“I’ll go tell the rest of the villagers to prepare. We can introduce him at the leavetaking banquet tonight,” Ninto said.
Ukatonen flickered agreement, and Ninto left. Eerin was sitting off in a corner, playing with
her talking stone. Ukatonen regarded the sleeping bami pensively. “How should the bami be awakened?” he asked. “Eerin will need our help to do it properly.”
“I don’t know, en,” Anito said feeling angry at him for asking. It was his decision that brought them to this impasse; he was the one who should come up with a solution. “Why are you asking me? I’ve never wakened a bami before.”
Ukatonen looked at her. “You’re going to become an enkar, kene. You will have to answer harder questions than this one. It is time you started learning how.”
Anito looked down at the floor. Sadness washed over her as she thought of leaving Narmolom for the isolated life of an enkar.
“Yes, en,” she said. She wanted to ask how long she had before he took her away from Narmolom, but she was afraid of the answer.
Irritation forked across Ukatonen’s chest. “You are a young elder now, learning to make important decisions. There are good reasons for me to ask you how to do this. This is your village; you know the people here better than I do. This also affects your atwa. Now, I ask you again, how should we waken the bami?”
“I think,” Anito said, “that we should ask Eerin about this. It is her bami. She should help decide.”
Ukatonen flickered agreement. He chittered to draw Eerin’s attention, then beckoned her over io join the conversation.
She looked puzzled when Anito asked her about waking the bami. “I don’t understand. Is there something special about this?”
Anito restrained a flash of impatience at Eerin’s ignorance.
“Wakening a bami for the first time is important,” Ukatonen explained. “It is when you bond with each other. It is the best memory most of us have. There is nothing else like that moment.”
“How is it done?” Eerin asked.
“The bami will not awaken until you link with him. That first link is very important. It is then that the bond forms between a bami and its sitik. They learn to know each other in that link. The bond created by that link remains until the sitik dies or leaves the village,” Ukatonen said.