Marooned on Eden

by Robert L. Forward

  We learned so much today about the creatures of this new world that I am exhilarated! Any period of time spent in making discoveries is stimulating, of course—when my mind is absorbing new data I experience neither fatigue nor hunger for hours, and today was just such a joyous delight! It reminded me of early days at school, when some hitherto unknown realm of knowledge was suddenly available—a new field of literature or experiment to explore—and I could plunge into it with single-minded intensity!

  This day began early. Jinjur agreed to a long interview with the giant alien, including David, Cinnamon, and Carmen; we hoped to expand our vocabulary, and to begin to suggest a visit to its territory. How much more we discovered than we had anticipated! But then, none of the information sent early to us by our landers had even hinted at the amazing development—even civilization!—of these peculiar plants.

  We made a very formal start to our dialogue. David played the visitor's initial greeting-tune with great care, and we listened closely as it was returned, exactly similar to our ears, by one of the little animals standing at the entrance to the hole in the Jolly's trunk. We indicated our own selves by name, and then we received the first shock. Although it had only been hours since our last talk with this being, it apparently had spent the time in thought as rapid as its movement is slow, for it had absorbed so much of our language and vocabulary that we can now communicate with ease!

  I asked, in tentative fashion, if the Jolly was comfortable: "Have you eaten? And rested?"

  "Yes, thank you very much, Reiki. May I sincerely hope that all is well with you and the others also?" whistled a second animal who replaced the first one. Although the reply had a whistling or breathy tone instead of the humming tone generated by human vocal cords, it was definitely human speech and quite intelligible.

  This amazing reply left us speechless! The creature then began, on its own initiative, to describe itself and the things about us in a mixture of English and Jolly words. When it used a word new to us, we were usually able to understand its meaning by context, and as the pace was slow, Cinnamon interpolated the words we would have been likely to use. At each such suggestion, the intelligent mind with us repeated it thoughtfully, and thereafter used it as we would. Our discussion was thus able to increase in speed and understanding with breath-taking alacrity!

  As we had suspected, the "owls" are indeed the eyes of the creature; they fly out to gather information and are completely separate entities, but they are still simply eyes that must return to the plant very soon. There they reattach themselves to the prehensile teat Cinnamon had glimpsed within the "nests" or sockets, and the information they have obtained is instantly fed into the intelligent center, while the eye itself is nourished and sheltered simultaneously. The small animals living in the hole in the trunk serve as gatherers, or extra hands; they are capable of swift movement, and are dexterous in their ability to climb or dig to obtain food, but they have little more intelligence than our own hands. The coexistence of these parts serves to make a single, smoothly functioning individual, to which we can relate, although it is difficult to imagine our own hands or eyes operating independently at a distance from us!

  At this point I had a most distressing thought. "Do you remember," I reminded Cinnamon quietly, "that we caught—and ate!—one of its eyes and hands?"

  Her eyes widened in horror. "Shall we mention that?" she wondered.

  "I think we'd better," I said. "It's not, after all, the minor sort of solecism one intelligent being might reasonably overlook from another! It must know we were ignorant, but not deliberately cruel."

  Choosing words with care, I began. "We understand, now, that many days ago, when we captured and ate what we thought was an animal, and what we thought was a bird, we were wrong. We made a mistake. We did not intend to hurt or harm you. Please accept our apology." I kept on explaining and apologizing for some time in as many different words as I could, and the Jolly said nothing until I stopped. Then we heard another of the ceremonial-sounding melodies, followed by recognizable words:

  "Your apology is accepted. I now grow a new eye"—here, it indicated a smaller nest in the canopy that contained an eye that was now open, but not yet mobile like the others—"and a new gatherer." It indicated then the central opening in the trunk, and Cinnamon got a quick glimpse within, to report that the teats for the gatherers are similar to the ones in the nests, and there was an immature gatherer attached to one of the teats inside.

  The Jolly now reintroduced the subject of fire, and Cinnamon and Carmen demonstrated their techniques for starting a fire. The Jolly was quick to understand how to produce fire with bow and drill or flint and steel, but soon realized that both methods require rapid motions which would be difficult for it to emulate with its root-hands, although with a great deal of practice it might be able to some day carry out the fearful procedure using its gatherers. The eyes fluttered, watching intently as Cinnamon nursed the tiny spark along with bits of fuel and tinder, until it was a fair size. The giant began to back away from the bright yellow flames until Cinnamon, observing its trepidation, extinguished the fire. Instantly, the intelligence spoke of the implications of having heat as a tool—and then revealed to us that the only fires it had observed heretofore were full-grown affairs caused by lightning and lava flows. We could well understand how such a phenomenon would be a terror to the slow-moving plants!

  Cinnamon then began to ask about the creature's home. She is so instinctively empathetic with any form of life, it was interesting to watch her. Moving slowly about the plant, bending occasionally to touch, ever so lightly, some curious portion of it, she crooned, rather than asked, her questions.

  "Where do you rest? Have you offspring? Have you shelter from storms? I am interested in knowing how you live!"

  The reply was startlingly quick, from so slow-moving a creature: "Come! I will show you!"

  The Jolly began to move, and we watched, mesmerized by the unique stride of the big roots. Then we realized what it had said. Our opportunity had come! After a hurried discussion, David and Carmen moved up on either side of the Jolly and kept even with its slow progress, never stepping in its way or impeding the constant flights of the eyes. Cinnamon and I sped to collect the others, assuming correctly that everyone wanted to see whatever the Jolly could show us. Jinjur automatically began to think about leaving someone on watch, but a look around at our exceedingly sketchy encampment made her realize the absurdity of that. And as Arielle said, cheerfully setting aside the kettle, "If thief wants raw beans, he's welcome!"

  It was a curious—in every sense of the word!—procession we formed. As we paced slowly to the north, we had ample time to roam the forest thickets at our sides, and bring specimens to the Jolly for comment or explanation.

  Thus, we learned that the large low banyan-like trees with the bamboo-like supports are peethoo trees. Nels had been right about their preferring leaf mass to trunk mass, and we had observed how their big spongy leaves, fragrant as cedar, soak up all the water that falls. But we had not appreciated fully their strengths. "Around the peethoo tree, taller trees can grow, and shade them from the light, and take the water from the sky. But the peethoo fight back! Roots hunt out invading roots, strangle and kill them."

  The tentacle tree called the keekoo by the Jolly, whose root had attacked Shirley's braid, was another whose roots are warriors. In this case, they are specially developed and aggressive roots, always searching for food and running just under the surface of the soil for great distances. When the Jolly pointed out a keekoo root, Cinnamon attempted to entice it with the tip of her own braid, with Shirley standing by with the serrated blade on her Mech-All ready. The tentacle did begin to swell under the stimulus, and started to coil around the braid, but it moved so slowly Cinnamon easily avoided it. Such a runner could strangle other slower moving vines, or perhaps snare a slow-moving creature, but it's apparent now that Shirley's braid was ensnared on our first day only because she was motionless in her sleep.

>   The feebook plant, which we had referred to as "ivy," is ubiquitous on even the most barren-appearing soils, and has lemon-scented leaves which are virtually waterproof, collecting all the rain and funneling it to the central mass at the bottom of the creek beds. This dependence on rainwater for so many nutrients seems to bear out George's early speculations about the toroidal gas clouds that form in space around the orbits of Zouave and Zulu from the material that has escaped from their upper atmospheres. The gas drifts into Eden's orbit, is pulled in by Eden's gravity, and is enmeshed in the rains. All the storms and winds, which are only a hindrance to our activities are actually bringing vital elements to the native life—and ultimately to us, I suppose, if we continue to thrive here!

  Through the upper canopies we occasionally glimpsed the gently smoking summit of the big volcano. I wondered aloud if the Jolly encompassed the mountains in the views with which its eyes supply it. The Jolly responded with great assurance that it knew a great deal about the Great Volcano Hoolkoor the Goundshaker and its sometimes violent habits. John listened to the Jolly's detailed explanation for some time.

  "Sounds like a typical tribal interpretation of volcanic activity," he said. "Groundshaker's spear, Nightlight's insults . . ."

  But Richard stated firmly, "Tribal interpretation or scientific analysis—they both describe what happens, with methods that can predict accurately, so what's the difference?"

  I fell to thinking about the earthly coexistence of humans and volcanos, and how one result had been the formation of various taboos. Originally designed to protect human life, taboos often lost their purpose in the increasing complexities of daily routine over time, and unfortunately then became rigid limitations on individual freedom. As we shared our own views of the world around us with these strange natives, would we increase their appreciation of it? Certainly I hoped we would not disabuse them of any harmless beliefs!

  We were now approaching a narrow but deep crevasse in the side of the volcano, down which a flow of still-smoking lava was moving sluggishly. The surface was crusted, but certainly impassable for either us or the Jolly.

  "How will you cross this?" asked Jinjur curiously.

  "I cannot cross here. I must move west until the flow is flat and not so hot." Patiently, the big plant set off.

  "Wait!" cried Shirley. "How far must you go out of your way?"

  "Sixth day march," came the answer. "And sixth day back to the route."

  "But," protested Shirley, "It's not a wide crossing! A simple bridge . . ." The Jolly stopped, listening. While I explained the idea of a bridge, Shirley and the others quickly gathered some sturdy vines and planks.

  Jinjur said, doubtfully, "Shirley, that giant must weigh a ton! Do you think this stuff will support it?"

  "It'll be mostly rope mesh—or vine mesh, I mean!" explained Shirley. "These things are really tough, and we'll make it just wide enough for the Jolly's width, and put the planks along it for stability. We'll give it nice high "rails," draw the whole thing taut, and be on our way!"

  I privately thought it would take as long to build a sufficiently sturdy bridge as to follow the lava stream to a fording place, but Shirley was excited at the chance to construct something. And, I must admit, with the skilled workers she had to hand and her own expertise, the project proceeded rapidly.

  "I understand 'bridge,' " said the Jolly at my side, watching intently. The eyes were flying in an eager cloud above the workers, reporting back constantly. "But how to get over, to start?"

  "Just throw a line!" called Shirley, swinging a long light vine competently from one strong hand. The end of the vine was tied to the taproot of a small tree base that had thick forked roots branching out from the sides to make a grappling hook.

  "Throw?" The word was obviously baffling. Shirley's first toss lodged firmly in some stout bushes on the opposite bank. The thought flashed through my mind that if the bushes were as intelligent as those of our friend here, we might find the construction sabotaged with some speed! But, fortunately, most of the plants have a response time more like that of the plants with which we are most familiar. The Jolly seemed to be searching for words.

  "What you do . . .that is new . . .send things through the air like eyes!" It dawned on me, then, that this must be the first thrown object the Jolly had ever seen.

  After the far anchor of the line had been thoroughly tested with the combined weight of Richard and Shirley, Arielle crossed hand over hand, a safety line connected to a branch overhead tied around her waist.

  Quickly, the construction was complete, and a short but extremely stout bridge crossed the hot chasm. We started across, and the bridge did not even quiver. It is not surprising, however, that the Jolly stood hesitantly on the brink, feeling the first few planks in very doubtful fashion.

  "Richard, John, Nels—give the Jolly a helping hand there!" said Jinjur. The three men recrossed, and as their combined weight made the planks tremble I saw the Jolly's roots retreat to the firm land.

  "It's okay, old man!" Richard's shout was meant to be reassuring.

  "We'll keep you upright," said John more practically. "We won't let you fall."

  Obviously, the big plant had good reason to be frightened. There was absolutely nothing in its former experience to guide it in these circumstances, nor had it any justification for trusting us. It had seen us all together on the bridge, but must have been very unsure of its own safety on such a thing.

  Cinnamon, watching closely, said suddenly, "It's going to try, because it is proud!" Impossible to know, but I rather think she was right. There was an almost tangible straightness and tension forming along the length of the trunk, and while the fluttering eyes maintained a vigilant surveillance of the scene, the ponderous roots moved out along the surface before it. The men braced their large hands firmly about the woody girth, and together the oddly-assorted group moved slowly and steadily across the rude bridge. That strange picture is now one of the prized images in the memory of my recorder!

  The crossing was uneventful, but the Jolly now spoke in different tones. I suspect it was pleased with itself! And its reaction was a friendlier feeling towards the creatures who had assisted it in the strange new adventure!

  In any event, while we strolled our leisurely way, we continued to ask questions, and the answers came with not only increasing fluency but with more good will. The Jolly was picking up our language much more quickly than we were learning its own! But that made it easier, now, to praise the beauty of some of the tokens it had brought along as gifts. Among these were some irregularly shaped beads, strung along a length of vine. I fingered them, enjoying their warmth and color.

  "What is this substance?" I asked.

  "We find those in streams. Pretty. Easy to make holes in. Do not change color. Stay shiny." The answer was a sensible one, but John suddenly reached for the little strand, looked more closely at it, and hefted its weight in the reduced gravity.

  "I think it's gold!" he said, in hushed tones.

  Several heads lifted sharply, only to relax again as Jinjur said, with a laugh, "So what?"

  I was glad to hear that. Unless we can think of a good, practical use for the metal, the little nuggets can remain as trinkets, and nothing more.

  Carmen traced with a fingertip the intricate designs on the cloth which had also been a gift. "This is a perfect picture of the berry vine, isn't it, but how did you get the color?" The giant began to explain to her how the dye was made, from some sort of shell called the peekoo, but I was still puzzling over what purpose the cloth serves at all. The Jolly calls it a word meaning roughly mouthcloth, and it comes into use only when the plant is making eating noises, but it doesn't seem to be used to clean the mouth or hands, like a human napkin. It may very well be purely a cultural device.

  The light was beginning to fade, indicating the approach of the midday eclipse. In our camp this was a pleasant hour of refreshment in the long day; the firelight is sufficient for a few things, but the intense darkness
beyond it precludes any real activity. As the disk of Barnard set behind the black circle of Gargantua overhead, Shirley and Carmen found a pleasant site and quickly produced a small fire. Shortly after we had set out on this slow journey, John and David had gauged our speed, and returned to camp for a few foodstuffs. The Jolly watched the cooking process with great interest, its eyes steering carefully around the rising smoke. We offered it a bit of grilled fish, and some cooked vegetable. It accepted only tiny portions and politely refused more; we were similarly reluctant to sample much of the various items it proffered from its bulging travel net. There was one exception; a very tasty fruit indeed, according to Arielle, who was the designated taster. (We continue, understandably, to exercise great caution with unknown alien foods!) Arielle described the berry's sweetness enthusiastically, and our questions elicited the information that this is a crop which the Jolly harvests! It promised to show us the pens in which it keeps the plants which grow the fruit. The Jolly refers to them as jookeejook plants, and perhaps we too can use them as food. As we rested through the quiet darkness, we explained, as simply as we could, how we had arrived in this land, and why. The creature listened carefully, but I am sure—I think—it cannot comprehend the magnitude of our travels and differences, despite having seen and talked with the penetrator in our camp.