Winter in Eden e-2

by Harry Harrison

  After the recent voyage Kerrick had no desire at all to put to sea again. Yet there was no way he could avoid going. The boys looked at him enviously while the women patted him when he passed for it was considered the best of luck to touch someone who was going on their first ularuaq hunt. The rest of the day was spent preparing the ikkergaks — most of the night in feasting off the old meat knowing they would be bringing a fresh supply when they returned.

  They left in the morning and Armun stayed inside the paukarut, could not bear to see him go away from her again, emerging only when the little fleet was just a blur on the horizon.

  They sailed due north and Kalaleq was quick to tell Kerrick the reason why, indulging himself in the Paramutan love of talking.

  “Ice, we sail to the ice, that is where ularuaq are.”

  Kerrick had difficulty in understanding just why the creatures stayed to the north, near the ice, because Kalaleq used words that he had never heard before. He would just have to wait until they reached the ice in order to find out for himself.

  They were many days at sea before the white line of ice was seen in the distance. There was much shouting and excitement as they drew close and the frozen wall rose above them. The waves surged and broke against it and in the troughs between the waves dark masses could be made out hanging from the ice.

  “Qunguleq,” Kalaleq said and rubbed his stomach. “The ularuaq come here, eat it. We come and eat them. What fun!”

  As they turned and followed the ice Kerrick could see that the qunguleq was green seaweed of some kind, immense lengths of it attached to the ice and trailing out into the sea. He had never seen anything like it before. With this thought came some understanding. The ularuaq had come here to eat the qunguleq — and the Paramutan had followed. He looked forward with some excitement to seeing what sort of creatures grazed these frigid northern meadows.

  Despite himself, Kerrick was caught up in the excitement of the hunt. The ikkergaks turned west and sailed along the wall of ice. When they reached the first of the icebergs that had broken free they spread out in a line to search around the bergs and in the channels between them. But never alone. This was a group effort and some of the other ikkergaks were always in sight. Kalaleq’s ikkergak was near the middle of the line. The ikkergaks to the right and left easy enough to see — but the others were out of sight in the distance or searching other channels.

  Since this was Kalaleq’s ikkergak he had the honor of riding in the bow and throwing the spear. This had a long wooden shaft and a carved bone point with many back-facing barbs that would catch in the flesh to keep it from pulling free. Kalaleq sat and greased a long length of line with blubber, coiling it into a smooth pile beside him. Everyone else kept watch for their prey.

  They sailed north for five days in this manner, searching all day and heaving to at night. Each dawn they were under way as soon as it was light enough to see, spreading out in their hunting formation. On the sixth day Kerrick was just hauling in a fishing line when there was a great shout of joy from one of the lookouts.

  “The signal, there, look!”

  Someone in the ikkergak to their left was waving a dark shape over his head. Kalaleq picked up a skin and passed the signal on down the line as they heeled over to follow the other turning ikkergak. The herd had been seen: the hunt was on.

  The first ikkergaks tacked while they waited for the others to catch up — then all of them moved west together.

  “There they are,” Kalaleq shouted. “How beautiful — I have never seen anything that beautiful!”

  To Kerrick they were just dark lumps against the ice — but they were food and shelter, life itself to the Paramutan. Their entire existence depended on the ularuaq, and to find them again they had crossed the ocean, from continent to continent. Now was the time when they must succeed.

  Closer they came and closer, until Kerrick could see the great dark backs of the beasts as they moved along the wall of ice. They had blunt heads and what looked like thick lips. With them they seized the qunguleq and tore great streamers free. They reminded him of uruketo, they were as large, only they lacked the high dorsal fin. Every now and again one of them would surge high out of the water and crash back with a tremendous splash. The ikkergaks drew closer and angled toward the far side of the pack and began to separate. Kalaleq nodded in appreciation of the maneuver.

  “Get in front, let them see, make them come back toward us.” He pointed at the other ikkergak which, like them, had dropped its sail and was rocking motionless in the waves.

  The others hurried away, letting out their sails fully to reach the pack as quickly as they could, angling for position. The great creatures grazed steadily, seemingly indifferent to the ikkergaks that grew ever closer. Their own craft rocked back and forth on the waves, the sail flapping loosely. The tension grew and Kalaleq shook the spear and bounced back and forth from one foot to the other.

  “They are coming!” someone shouted.

  Everything seemed to happen at once after that — and Kerrick jumped back out of the way. The sail was run up and lashed tight while the steerman — facing the bow for the first time — headed toward the approaching pack which had taken fright and was now fleeing from the other ikkergaks. Kalaleq stood ready in the bow, solid and unmoving and apparently ignoring all the shouted advice. The dark forms of the ularuaq plunged toward them.

  “Now!” Kalaleq shouted. “Go about!”

  In a single frenzied spasm of effort the steerman pushed hard on his oar while the others hauled on the lines that swung the sail to the other side of the mast. It flapped and cracked — then filled again. Moments later they were moving again on the opposite tack. Away from the ularuaq, angling across before them.

  The reason for the maneuver was soon obvious. The ikkergak was no match for the rushing pack, could never have caught up with them. But as the giant sea creatures overtook them their relative speed was slowed and Kalaleq could select his victim. He did this calmly, signing to the steerman with his hands which direction he wanted to go, ignoring all the advice about size and suitability from the rest of the crew.

  They were in amongst them now, sleek wet forms moving by on both sides.

  “Now!” Kalaleq cried — and stabbed his spear into a bladder that hung by a thong over the bow of the ikkergak, just beside him. The spearpoint came out black and dripping and a repulsive odor washed back from the burst bladder. The ikkergak rocked as it bumped the back of the ularuaq.

  Kalaleq plunged the spear down with all of his strength, deep into the creature’s hide, then jumped away as the coil of line attached to it began to run quickly over the side. The stench from the punctured bladder was unbelievable and Kerrick lurched to the side and threw up. Through his tears he saw Kalaleq cutting the thong — the bladder dropped into the sea and was swept away.

  With this done, Kalaleq kicked overboard the inflated skin just as the last of the line paid out. The skin bubbled away through the water, secured to the line, and the ikkergak turned and followed it.

  Kalaleq climbed the mast again and shouted down instructions. If they lost sight of the inflated skin the whole operation would fail.

  The steerman glanced at Kerrick and laughed. “Strong poison, good and strong. Make you bring up all your food, just smelling it. Even a ularuaq cannot live long with that poison in it, you’ll see.”

  He was right; soon after this they came up to the inflated skin, bobbing on the waves. Below it the immense, still form of the ularuaq could just be made out. The rest of the school were gone, but the other ikkergaks were coming toward them.

  “Good stab, wasn’t it?” Kalaleq said, dropping down from the mast and looking fondly at his catch. “Did you ever see a thrust so good?”

  “Never,” Kerrick told him. Modesty was not a Paramutan trait.

  “It will float up soon, then sink, but you will see what we do then before we lose it.”

  By the time the ularuaq’s back was at the surface, the waves surging ov
er it, the rest of the ikkergaks were arriving at the scene. Kerrick was astonished when one Paramutan after another stripped off his furs and dived into the icy water. They had bone hooks, like greatly enlarged fishhooks, tied to the ends of leather lines that they carried between their teeth as they dived down next to the ularuaq. One by one they surfaced and were hauled into the ikkergaks, their fur running with water. They shivered and shouted how brave they were as they dried themselves and redressed.

  No one paid any attention to them because they were all busy hauling on the lines. Kerrick could help with this since it required no skill — just strength. The point of this exercise became clear when the ularuaq’s corpse stirred in the water, then rolled slowly over. The hooks had been sunk into the creature’s flippers. Now it floated in the sea with its lighter-colored underside facing upward.

  Some of the lattice-work flooring had been lifted and a coiled mass taken out of the bilge. This proved to be a length of some creature’s intestine preserved in a thick coating of blubber. A shaft of bone with a sharp tip was fixed to its end.

  After stripping off his furs, Kalaleq put the bone into his mouth and dropped over the side. Half swimming, half crawling, he worked his way along the ularuaq’s body, the tubular length of gut trailing behind him. Kneeling, he was prodding the resilient skin with his fingers, hitting it with his fists. He moved along to another spot, repeated these actions — then waved at them before taking the sharpened bone from his mouth. Raising it above his head with both hands he stabbed down with all his strength to drive it through the creature’s tough skin. Then he twisted it and worked it down into the flesh until it was out of sight.

  “Try it now,” he called out, stood shivering beside it with his arms wrapped about his body.

  At first Kerrick thought that the two Paramutan were pumping water from the ikkergak. Then he saw that this large pump was attached to the end of the length of gut and was pumping air — not water. The tube writhed and straightened as they worked. Kalaleq watched the operation until he was satisfied with the results, then slipped back into the water and returned to the ikkergak.

  He laughed aloud as he dried himself and redressed, then tried to talk but his teeth chattered too much.

  “Let me, warm me up,” he said to one of them who was frenziedly working the pump. The other Paramutan was gasping and exhausted and more than happy to hand over. “Now we… fill with… air. Make it float,” Kalaleq said.

  Kerrick took over from the other Paramutan — pumped in the same frenzied manner as the others, and soon passed the handle on to the next volunteer.

  Bit by bit they could see their efforts rewarded as the great body rose higher in the water. As soon as this happened the lines, still hooked into the flippers, were passed to the other ikkergaks and secured into position. Their sails were set and they got under way, slowly pulling the great sea creature after them.

  “Food,” Kalaleq said happily. “This will be a good winter and we will eat very well.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  They sailed back through thick flurries of snow: the first sign that autumn was coming to an end. The Paramutan relished this weather, sniffing the air happily and licking the snow off the cargo. It was snowing even more heavily when they reached the shore and the dark shapes of the paukaruts could just be made out through the falling flakes. They sailed past the settlement to the rocky shore beyond, the site they had so carefully selected, the reason why they had erected their paukaruts in this place.

  Here the waves broke on the tilted, grooved mass of rock that ran down and vanished into the sea. Its use became apparent when the lines from the ularuaq were passed ashore to the women. They had run out from the paukaruts when the little fleet had been sighted and were now shouting and waving on the shore. Kerrick picked Armun out, standing to one side, and called to her until she saw him and waved back. Then they were all caught up in the excitement as the large bulk of the ularuaq was pulled onto the rocks and held there by the ropes. With much shouted instructions it was turned so the tail lay pointing inland, was kept that way as the receding tide pulled at the body. When the tide ebbed it was stranded there, half in and half out of the water. Now the lines were taken from the fins and tied firmly about the tail, stretched out along the rocks until the next tide came in.

  Kerrick was pushing his way through the happy crowd toward Armun, but could not reach her before the press of screaming Paramutan came between them. Kalaleq was being carried on their shoulders, passed forward like a bundle until he was safely deposited on one of the immense flippers. Once there he took out his knife and began to saw at the resistant flesh, eventually cutting free a bloody chunk. He smeared it on his face until it was as red as his hands — then took a large bite before passing the meat to the crowd who fought and struggled, laughing hysterically, to get some for themselves. Kerrick pushed his way clear of them and found Armun. He pointed at the mountainous body.

  “The hunt was a success.”

  “More important — you are here again.”

  “There was nothing to fear.”

  “I did not fear. It is the separation. It must not happen again.”

  She did not tell him of each of the days since he had gone, how she had sat on the shore looking out to sea, thinking of him and their life together. When she found herself holding her skins over her mouth to hide her split lip, just the way she used to, she realized that he was her whole life, her new life that was not the one of rejection she had always lived. She was that different person again when they were parted. She did not like it, did not want to experience it ever again. Now they went together to the paukarut where he stripped and she washed the grime of the voyage from his body. He lay then under the warm furs while she took her own clothing off and joined him there. They were not disturbed; all the Paramutan were at the shore. Tight, together, their breaths mingling, her sounds of joy blending with his.

  Later she rose and dressed and brought food for both of them.

  “I built the fire and smoked these fish as soon as I caught them. I have had my fill of rotten meat. And here, these roots are from the forest; they taste the same as the ones I have always dug.” When she saw his worried expression she reached out and touched his lips and smiled. “I did not go alone. We went together, many women, the boys with spears. We saw the large birds but never got close to them.”

  The Paramutan did not come back to the paukaruts until dusk, ate and retired at once for the next high tide would come during the night. The boys who had remained to watch the ocean came running and screaming between the paukaruts when it was time. Then they all turned out under the bright stars, breaths steaming in the night air, to pick up the lines once again. This time, with everyone pulling strongly on the creature’s tail they slid it even higher up on the slanting rock; there was no chance now of it being washed back into the sea.

  In the morning the flensing began. Great strips of hide and blubber were removed, meat hacked from the bones. The rock ran red with the creature’s blood. Kalaleq took no part in this, just looked on, and once the butchery was well under way he returned to the paukarut and took out the charts once again. Then called to Kerrick.

  “All the time we sailed to find the ularuaq I thought of these. I looked at the water, and I looked at the sky and I thought of these. And then I began to understand. They sail differently, the murgu, do things differently, but some things about the ocean must always be the same. Let me show you what I am thinking and you will tell me if there is any truth in my thoughts.”

  He spread the Yilanè charts out on the ground, then walked around them holding out his own navigation matrix of crossed bones. He turned it over and over in his hands, then kneeled and laid it carefully on the chart, turning it still more until it was just as he wanted.

  “You will remember we crossed the ocean by following the unmoving star. This is the course we took — and here is where we are now. This is land; this the ice, this the shore where we met you, this is th
e place.”

  Kerrick followed the brown finger across the network of bones, could see none of the things that appeared to be so obvious to the Paramutan; to him they were still just bones. But he nodded agreement, not wanting to interrupt. Kalaleq went on.

  “Here is where I began to understand. The murgu sail only in the south, for you have told me they cannot live in the snow. We live for snow and ice, live only in the north. But things go from south to north, north to south. Here, right here, is a river of warm water in the sea, coming from the south, and we have fished in it. It is rich with food and it runs far north, and I think many fish swim in it for their food. But where does it come from? Can you tell me?” He smiled and smoothed the fur on his cheeks as he waited for an answer.

  “From the south?” It did not seem too hard an answer, but it excited Kalaleq.

  “Yes, yes, I think so. And you agree with me. So, look, at the murgu chart. If this is land and this is water — then this orange color could be the warm water flowing from south to north. Could it not?”

  “It could,” Kerrick agreed, though it could be anything to his untutored eye. With this encouragement Kalaleq rushed on.

  “So it ends here at the edge of the chart because the murgu never go north — so this must be north. But before it ends, there is this place on their chart — which I believe is this place on mine! And if that is right — then here on theirs is here on mine — where we are standing right now!”

  Kerrick could make no sense of the Paramutan bonework — but there was some logic to the Yilanè chart. The orange swirl could be warm water, that made sense — though, what the blue swirls crossing it were he couldn’t tell. Was all of the green mass ocean? The darker green land? Possibly. He moved his finger down the dark green on the left, traced it downward until it changed to the light green of the sea. In some ways it did look a bit like the model he had seen in Deifoben. And these flakes of golden metal sealed under the surface, out here in the ocean, what could they mean?