by Amy Thomson
“Thank you, Dr. Wu.” Relief washed over Juna in a wave, turning her skin pale lavender. “Thank you.”
Glancing up, she noticed several of the staff members staring, and realized that they could see her color changes through the helmet of the e-suit. She flushed leaf-brown with embarrassment, which only made matters worse.
Dr. Bremen rose. “I think it’s time we moved on.”
“My staff is eager to get some hands-on experience with the Tendu, as are all the other researchers on board ship. How soon can you get us permission to go ashore?” Wu asked.
“That may take some time,” Juna said. “The Tendu are waiting to see how we handle the problem of reparations to Lyanan. We may have to deal with that first. Then we can work out the conditions under which we can conduct research in the Tendu’s forests.”
“Is there any way to negotiate some limited research while we work out the reparation agreement?” Bremen asked.
“I don’t know, Dr. Bremen. I’ll see what I can do. You must remember all of you, that the Tendu have a very different approach to time than we do. This may take a while. Until we resolve this, I’ll be happy to conduct seminars on what I have learned, whenever I can.” She held up her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I know it’s not much, but it’s all we can do.”
“Do you have any recommendations on negotiation strategy, Dr. Saari?”
“We should definitely take a gift,” Juna said. “Something that doesn’t violate the protocols. A good sturdy coil of hemp rope would be ideal.”
“Do we have some rope?” Bremen asked Captain Edison.
“I believe so. We included a fairly wide stock of possible trade goods, based on what we knew about the culture from the information Dr. Saan downloaded to the Kotani Maru.”
“Good,” Juna said. “The hard part will be explaining the Contact Protocols to Lalito, the chief elder of Lyali. She would be insulted to find out that we’re coddling her. Does anyone have any suggestions?”
The meeting bogged down in a long and complicated wrangle over negotiating strategies. Nothing was decided, and at last Wu called a halt.
“One more thing, before we wind up the meeting, Dr. Saari,” Wu said. “Your time is going to be in very high demand. I’d like to assign Dr. Tanguay to you as your assistant. She is more fluent in Tendu than anyone else on board ship, besides yourself, and she’s eager to learn as much as she can.”
Juna looked at the small, dark woman. Wu was right. She needed an assistant. “Thank you, Dr. Wu,” she said gratefully. “I’m sure Dr. Tanguay will be a great help.”
The meeting broke up, and Dr. Tanguay came over to talk Juna.
“I’m honored to be working with you, Dr. Saari,” she said. “How soon can you start teaching me more skin speech?”
Juna smiled at the woman’s eagerness. “Perhaps tonight, after dinner. Say 2100 hours? I’m afraid that you’ll have to come to my quarters. You can’t see my skin in this suit.”
“That would be fine. I’ll bring my computer. You can tell me whether you think the visual interface we’re using will work.”
“Good. I’ll see you then,” Juna said.
“Dr. Saari?” Captain Edison said, as they left the room. “I wanted to take this opportunity to personally welcome you back to the Survey.” She shook Juna’s hand admiringly. “It must have been an incredible four years,” she added with a wistful note in her voice.
“It was, Captain, it was.”
“I hope you can tell me more about it, sometime.”
A tall, rangy red-haired woman in an ensign’s uniform came up and saluted the captain.
“Dr. Saari, this is Ensign Laurie Kipp. She’ll be your security escort.”
Juna shook Ensign Kipp’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Ensign.”
“Sano Laurie vaan” Ensign Kipp said, in Finnish.
“Sa puhut suomea?” Juna replied in Finnish.
Laurie nodded. “My mother grew up in Tampere. I think that was why Captain Edison assigned me to you.”
“My father was from Mikkeli.” She smiled. “But that was a long time ago. It was very kind of Captain Edison to assign you to me.”
“She’s a good captain.”
They chatted pleasantly in Finnish while Ensign Kipp showed Juna around the ship. They stopped often to shake hands and talk with the crew, who were eager to meet her. All this attention made her feel awkward and self-conscious, like some kind of Tri-V star. Fortunately, Laurie realized when she was getting overwhelmed, and gently ushered her on to the next lab, diplomatically shooing the crowd away.
Juna had never served on a research ship before. Because they were large and difficult to transport, the research ships were used only in very specialized circumstances. It was a shame that they weren’t used more often, Juna thought as she toured the spacious, well-equipped labs, and shook hands with dozens of lab techs.
But that was one of the drawbacks of being first. The Survey sent out a lot of advance teams, but could only afford the bare minimum in terms of collection and bioanalysis tools. Other, more specialized teams were sent in their wake if the advance teams found anything useful or interesting to report. The advance teams were usually made up of bright young researchers looking for their first big break, with a few seasoned scientists along to oversee their efforts. It was never hard to staff the advance teams; the romance of being the first human to set foot on a planet was a big draw, though the reality could be very disillusioning.
Juna smiled, remembering how hard her first trip had been. Half the first-timers had resigned after that trip out, but not Juna. Despite the cramped conditions, minimal equipment, and often petty regulations, she loved her work.
“You know, I wouldn’t trade being on an advance team for all the lab space on this ship,” she remarked to Ensign Kipp as they settled themselves into the crew lounge just forward of the dining room.
“Why?”
Juna shrugged. “Less politics, more adventure, I guess.”
Laurie rolled her eyes. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Oh?”
“Too many presidents, not enough staff. Most of these people were running their own departments back home. They’re not used to taking orders.”
“I see.”
“Everyone seems to think their own department comes first. Captain Edison has her hands full just settling interdepartmental disputes.”
“Isn’t that Bremen’s job?” Juna asked.
Laurie rolled her eyes again. “Near as I can figure, his job is to look good in front of the cameras for the people back home. He wasn’t supposed to go ashore alone like that, but he pulled rank in order to set up a good scene. The crew nearly split a gut laughing when you introduced yourself. You made a lot of friends with that.”
“Coffee?” a familiar voice inquired.
Juna looked up. It was Alison.
“Alison! Thank you for the wine!” Juna stood and hugged her friend.
“Most people would have thanked me for that excellent meal!” Alison teased her fondly. “It must run in the family.”
Juna held her friend out at arm’s length. She looked good, a few pounds heavier, some lines a little deeper, but healthy and relaxed.
“So how did you get on board?” Juna asked. “I thought you had tc retire.”
“The retirement age for cooks is seventy-five. I’m only seventy, and unlike most Survey chefs, I can cook. I couldn’t miss this trip! So I pulled a few strings and here I am.”
“How did you get the wine?”
“As soon as I got the job, I went and visited your father. He gave it tc me then,” Alison told her. “1 kept it under lock and key in my cabin so it wouldn’t get requisitioned by one of the officers. Even Bremen didn’t know about it until after he met you. I had the communications officer tell him.”
“My father, how is he?”
“He’s well, but getting on, like all of us,” Alison said.
“And my brother?”
Alison’s face clouded over. She took a letter out of her apron pocket. “You need to read this. It’s from your father.”
Juna opened the letter, blinking back tears at the fannrMiltmr a^fnii rf inor father’s bold, sprawling handwriting.
Dear Juna,
I am well and the farm is prospering. We put up several fine vintages while you were gone.’ I’ll be sending them along with the private stock that Alison is taking. I hope and pray daily that you will be found safe and healthy. There has been too much other sadness here. Someone may already have told you about Toivo. I hope not. I would rather you hear about family from family.
Toivo was playing spinball and fell against a support strut that broke away, carrying him and it into gravity. It was a miracle he wasn’t killed. He fell directly on another strut, crushing several vertebrae in his lower back. The spinal cord was crushed beyond repair. The doctors say that he will need a wheelchair the rest of his life, but he’s determined to learn to use an exoskeleton in low gravity.
Juna put the letter down. Alison sat beside her, and put an arm around her shoulder. Juna swallowed her tears and picked up the letter again.
Toivo is doing well, all things considered, but I’m concerned with his obsession to learn to use an exoskeleton and take up life in zero-gee. I hope it will pass, but you know how stubborn he is. Aunt Anetta has come to help out, and Toivo’s spouses have taken turns caring for him, as have the children. He married into a good family, dear, and I’m very glad for it. The children are taking it hard, though. I try to spend a lot of time with Danan and the little ones, when the farm isn’t keeping me busy. It’s hard managing without Toivo. Danan is trying to help, but he’s only eleven, and not yet strong enough to do the heavy work. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep the vineyard going. I’m not as tough as I once was; a full day’s work takes a heavy toll at my age. Come home soon, dear. Your presence would help us all.
I love you,
Dad
There was a picture included with the letter. Toivo was sitting on the porch in his wheelchair; her father and Toivo’s son, Danan, stood on either side of him. In the distance, the family’s vineyards stretched up and away.
She put the letter down, and let the tears flow. Alison held her, patting her shoulder with that odd awkwardness that comes in the face of profound grief. When the first flood of anguish subsided, Juna held her arms out, spurs up.
“The Tendu could heal him,” she said, her voice hoarse from crying. “They could heal him.”
“Juna,” her old friend said gently, “the doctors tried everything. Too much of the cord was crushed for neural repair. ”
Juna shook her head.-"The Tendu could grow his spine back again. They could make it just like new. I can’t, not yet, but maybe if I studied hard with one of the enkar, I could learn how.”
There was a clatter of pots and pans in the galley. Alison glanced nervously over her shoulder.
“I should get back before they ruin dinner.” She peered at Juna. “Are you going to be all right?”
Juna nodded. “Thanks, Alison, I’ll be fine. Go on. I’m so glad you’re here!”
Alison gave her arm an affectionate squeeze, then headed for the galley.
“I’m sorry to hear about your brother,” Laurie said.
Juna managed a brief thank-you. It had been an emotional day. She was worn out, and there was still that language session with Dr. Tanguay.
“I think I want to go back to my quarters now.”
Juna felt a rush of relief as the lock door closed behind her. It was good to be alone. She stripped out of her suit and headed for the shower. The hot water felt wonderful against her tight, dry skin. Dad was right, they needed her back home—but she wouldn’t be home for months, perhaps as long as a year. And the Tendu needed her too. Juna sighed, got out, dried off, and ordered dinner. That done, she poured herself a glass of water, and stood sipping it, looking around the sterile cubicle. Her gaze fell on her computer. She should read her mail.
After the first three offers for her memoirs, she switched her mail scan to personal correspondence only, and caught up with her friends while she ate another of Alison’s glorious meals. Couscous this time, with fresh vegetables and chunks of lamb. The spices and the heat burned her aching throat, but it was so good to eat a hot meal again that she didn’t care.
Dr. Tanguay came by for her lesson. Juna stripped down to her briefs and began testing her knowledge of skin speech. As long as Juna spoke slowly, in large, simple, informal patterns, Dr. Tanguay could understand most of what she said. The translation device proved to be a large graphic slate, crammed to the gills with linguistic software. It was slow but workable. It disturbed Juna to realize how easily she could be replaced. It was hard to get used to the idea that she was going to have to share the Tendu with people who would never understand them as well as she did.
Her voice gave out after about half an hour, and they called a halt, agreeing to get together after the staff meeting tomorrow for another lesson. Juna drank a liter of water; the air in the room sucked the moisture out of her. She found the environmental controls and turned the humidity up as high as it would go. Then she crawled into bed. It was good to sleep in a real bed again? She was so tired that she fell asleep before she could repair her tired, aching throat.
She woke in the middle of the night in agony, her skin tight and aching, her throat burning with dryness. She stumbled into the shower stall and turned on the water, then crouched there, mouth open, letting the warm water stream down her throat. The warmth and moisture eased the dryness of her skin, and she felt better, except for a tight ache in the skin over her elbows and knees. She would have to speak to the medical staff about the humidity tomorrow. Surely something could be done to make the room more comfortable.
She climbed into bed again without drying off, letting the moisture from her body seep into the sheets so that the bed would be moist and comfortable. It would be a mess in the morning, but at the moment she didn’t care. She had spent years dreaming of cool, dry, clean sheets, and now all she wanted was to burrow into the rotting wet warmth of a Tendu bed.
Chapter 27
Anitonen watched as the humans’ raft took Eerin away. Eerin waved, and Moki replied with a flash of brilliant colors, fading quickly back to deep grey. Anitonen glanced back at the floating island. New creatures moved over it like niku over a rotting log.
She missed Eerin already. Eerin had acted so differently when she was with the other new creatures. Her skin was strangely still while she made the mouth noises that passed as communication among the humans. Only when she translated what Dr. Bremen had said did her skin come alive. It felt like Eerin was gone even before she walked out of the jungle and got on the new creatures’ raft.
Moki was taking this hard. A ripple of regret passed over Anitonen’s skin, and she touched his shoulder reassuringly. He shrugged off her touch, his eyes never leaving the floating island. Orphaned bami his age almost never recovered from the loss of their sitik. Even with the kindest of care, they wasted away and died, or vanished into the forest, never to be seen again. Moki was exceptionally intelligent and fiercely determined, but the same determination that drove him to follow them through the jungle worked against him now as he clung to his sitik.
Anitonen laid a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at her. “Eerin isn’t dead, Moki. You’ll see her tomorrow,” she told him.
Moki turned to look at the ship again without responding.
Ukatonen touched Anitonen on the shoulder. “Go on, we’ll sit here together for a while.”
Anitonen nodded and swung off into the trees. She settled on a high branch and looked out at the humans’ island, watching the new creatures come and go. How was she going to fit all of these strangers into her world?
Anitonen shook her head. First she had to deal with the problem of Lyanan. Their resentment of the humans had softened, thanks to Eerin’s patience, hard wor
k, and skill, but it could flare again if the negotiations went badly.
She needed to find some form of exchange that would satisfy both humans and Tendu. It needed to be valuable and easily divided, so that it could be used to help excuse the obligations that Lyanan had incurred while they were replanting the forest. It also had to be something that the humans were willing to trade.
Eerin had explained that there were very strict limits on what the humans would give to the Tendu. The humans couldn’t give the Tendu anything that they didn’t already have or use. This seemed like a strange rule to Anitonen. Why trade for something that the other person already had? Eerin had explained that the humans were afraid that the Tendu might hurt themselves with the gifts that they gave them. Too many new things might make the Tendu change too fast. Anitonen shook her head. Why should the humans worry about what the Tendu might do with their trade goods? That was the enkar’s concern. If the enkar didn’t like the way things were going, it was up to them to stop it.
It wasn’t going to be easy to find trade goods that would settle the issue. She shook her head again, rippling frustration, and set off to find Lalito. They needed to discuss what Lyanan wanted to get out of the negotiations.
The humans arrived for the meeting shortly before noon the next day. Anitonen watched with Ukatonen and Moki as the humans headed toward the beach in their strange self-propelled rafts. As they drew closer, Anitonen saw Eerin sitting in the bow of the first raft. Her body was covered with clothing. How was she going to be able to talk when she was all covered up? Moki scrambled down the tree and out onto the cliffs, eager to greet his sitik. Anitonen lifted her ears inquiringly at Ukatonen.
“I told him he could escort the humans to the meeting. He’ll get to see Eerin, and be quieter during the negotiations.”