"I think," she said carefully, "that that was good!" She paused, and opened the next fat shell with cautious hope. This time she investigated more carefully, dividing the meat into several bites which she ate with obviously increasing pleasure.
"Well! A slice of lemon, or a bit of tartar sauce, perhaps—anyway, not bad. Not bad at all." She patted her lips discreetly and smiled contentedly.
Nels' taste of the large fish was reassuring, if less evocative of a gourmet delicacy than Jinjur's. He stolidly consumed a healthy portion, commenting only on its tenderness and mildness.
None of us felt any urge to wander off for the next hour or so, preferring to lounge around, waiting to note the effects of these unique ingestions. I know I found myself concentrating on what was happening inside me with such uneasiness I began to feel rather ill; fortunately, I realized this was probably more due to my own qualms than anything toxic I had consumed. Indeed, as time wore on without any dire symptoms appearing, we all became more cheerful. Arielle and Cinnamon fell to discussing seasoning possibilities, and the other women joined in. Having absolutely nothing to suggest in that line, I was free to observe the men talking, very softly, off to one side.
Nels seemed to be describing something to the other three, and their interest was evident. His story progressed, almost inaudible to me, when he suddenly said, loudly, "More!" Then his voice dropped again, and, bewildered, I saw David's shoulders begin to shake. Suddenly Richard threw back his head with a great shout of laughter, in which John joined. I watched, baffled, as all four turned to regard us with a peculiar mixture of merriment and concern. They then turned back, to confer in low voices again.
Jinjur had been watching, with growing impatience, and now called, "Hey! Front and center, you four! What's so funny?"
The men came slowly, to stand, rather ill at ease, before her.
"It's a bit of a problem," began Nels slowly, looking at the ground.
"But we definitely have the solution," added Richard more firmly, and then chuckled and stopped.
"The thing is," said John with determination, "The flouwen are experiencing difficulty in the ocean; the chemical mixture is such that they can adapt to it, but it lacks something. Similarly, we could live on a restricted diet here for a while, but if there's no—for instance—potassium in the food, we'll eventually become ill."
"I'm aware of that danger," said Jinjur grimly. "It's facing us right here and now. Do the flouwen know what chemicals they lack?"
"Well, that's it, you see. Apparently, what they require is a small amount of ammonia to keep their internal chemistry properly balanced, and by sheer accident—here Richard spluttered again but was instantly silent—they've discovered we can supply them that! If we cooperate," he added hastily.
Jinjur frowned. "Well, of course we'll cooperate. We need to keep them as allies in any way possible. But where do we get ammonia? I don't . . ." she stopped, her eyes widening, as Carmen emitted the first real laugh I have heard from her in months.
"Am I right?" Carmen asked Nels, her eyes dancing. "They want urine?"
I gasped, but it transpired that she was correct. Urine is the human body's way of handling the toxic ammonia produced during some metabolic processes. Two ammonia molecules are tied up into a less toxic compound, which is then disposed of. The flouwen had learned (how, was tactfully not described) that human urine supplied them admirably with the very chemical needed to balance their system's internal chemistry, and it behooves us to share it with them. With careful choice of words, we addressed the problems of supply and demand, and finally decided to set aside a certain very shallow section of the beach for providing the flouwen with that which they need.
Nels said, "We'll need to work out a signal for them, to let them know when . . ."
But I flatly refused to do that. "Of course, I shall do my part," I said firmly. "And happy to help. But I don't intend to make a loud announcement each and every time . . ." I broke off, but the others seemed, mostly, to agree. I'm sure the flouwen, intelligent as they are, will be quick enough to learn when to visit that beach.
As the evening wore on, and we continued to experience no distress from our unusual meal, we became more relaxed. Nels and John had carefully studied the two small creatures we had, apparently, killed, and described their curiously incomplete structures. We puzzled over that to no avail. From there, the conversation ranged to the wide variety of life-forms we have already observed, and a bit of useless speculation about what we have yet to learn. We had fallen rather quieter, when David suddenly produced a wonderful surprise. He had, during the past days, been selecting bits of stick and lengths of sapling for some private purpose of his own. Now, he reached behind him and pulled forth one of the sapling tubes and put it to his mouth. To my incredulous delight, he produced a soft and lilting bit of melody.
"Oldest instrument in the world—any world!" he chuckled at our amazement. "Nothing to it!" And, indeed, it looks simple—but even with the best intentions, I could never have placed the little holes, and the curious little bit of leaf, at just the right position to create music.
"There's more!" he said, putting down the flute. Moving to the shadows at the back of our lean-to, he felt around, and brought out a harp with an odd, boxy frame. It was fitted with little pegs, and strung with tightly wound tendrils from the strangling rootlets. I listened, entranced, as he struck several individual notes in rhythm, and then brushed the entire surface for a gentle chord. "Can't tune it, of course!" he said cheerfully. "And the vines don't work very well. But it's a start!" He snatched up the whistle again, and played a very simple thing of four notes, but with a joyous jigging rhythm. David's pleasure in his own music is revealing; how vital it must be to him, to work so long and patiently to create it! The four sweet notes set up an insistent beat; repeated steadily, but altering slightly at each repetition.
Suddenly, Shirley seized a nearby cooking pot, upended it, and began to beat out a complex tattoo in counterpoint to David's whistling. She has never done such a thing before! I watched in amazement as her face bent to the task, intent and absorbed, while her fingers and palms danced with a life of their own. Quickly, Carmen stood, placed her hands on her hips, and held her body straight and still while her feet flew over the rushes in an intricate pattern.
"My God!" said John softly, his eyes glowing. "It's Amateur Night!" But he didn't move, and I was watching the three with such pleasure I paid no attention to him.
Then, Carmen's foot slipped on the uneven surface, and she stopped. The whistle sounded a final note and was silent, and Shirley's hands clattered a triumphant cadence, and stilled. The hush sounded very quiet for an instant, and then the rest of us applauded madly until our hands ached!
We're all drowsy now, hoping to feel as well when we awaken, and are eager to begin further exploration and food sampling. Although we have still been unable to build our signal fire or to receive any message from Prometheus, we are more cheerful this evening—for very little reason!
"It's not such a bad little old world, after all," murmured John. The trite old phrase took on new meaning, suddenly. I considered what we've found, and seen, and done in this hectic time.
"Could have been worse. And still could, too." Nels was realistic.
"Still . . ." Shirley's voice was drowsy, but content. "I don't know . . .it's been kind of fun . . ."
Arielle yawned unself-consciously. "Good place to swim . . .warm . . .plenty to do . . ."
"And a terrific place to sleep!" Carmen purred, and curled even more tightly into her own nest.
DISTURBING
I was feeling most upset. Until now, the season had been progressing smoothly. The jookeejook were safe in their pens and loaded with ripe fruit, the thook barrier around the tribal compound was thick and tightly sprung, and everyone in the tribe was contentedly busy with their carving, or weaving, or teaching the children how to pict and view and hunt. Even the Toojook tribe on the northern part of the island had been keeping
their distance. But now, intruders were disturbing my people's territory—and one of my eyes was late . . .
The mi-day darkness was fast approaching. All my eyes but one were back in their nests tucked underneath my fronds, feeding me the views they had gathered, while their tired bodies in turn rested and fed on the nourishment teats inside the nests. When the darkness came and my last eye had not yet returned, I was forced to realize that it had been lost. I activated a replacement nest, but it would be many days before I would have my full complement of six again. With darkness upon me, and new views to add to my worldview, I put away the sharp blackglass knife I had been using to cut a notch around one end of a log for a fishing raft I had been making, closed up my fronds, and retired into my mind to contemplate my worldview with its now disturbing features.
As any tribal chief should do, I first viewed the periphery of the thook barrier around the tribal compound. All was secure. I replayed the exits and entrances of the members of the tribe through the three gates. All were now safe inside the barrier except the two young stronglimbs, Beefoof and Haasee, who had taken their fishing nets east to Sulphur Lake some days ago. They had been successful, for already some of their gatherers had returned with armloads of fish wrapped in watersoaked peethoo leaves, then had scampered off again to Sulphur Lake for more. Watching the view of the fresh fish being brought in reminded me that I was hungry, and I sent one of my gatherers off to the tribal fishtank for my midday meal.
I continued my viewing, going in the general direction of the southern beach. Something flickered near the base of a tall boobaa tree as I viewed past. I returned my view to the boobaa tree and looked carefully all the way around it in an old view. Despite being alone, without the protective help of others of its kind surrounding it, the tree was doing well. I would need, however, to send someone to prune back the choker vines climbing the trunk. Up under the fronds at the top of the tall smooth trunk were a number of boobaa fruits, slowly ripening. I switched to a later view, and the fruits were gone!
Down at the bottom of the tree, one of my eyes had recorded a view that showed a strange creature picking up the boobaa fruits that were now lying on the ground. The later views showed nothing, neither creature nor fruit—both had disappeared in an instant. Amazed, I stepped the worldview backward in time until I found the one glance from the eye that had contained the view of the strange intruder.
The creature had only four limbs, and its fronds, instead of being long, blue-green leaves branching up into a decent canopy, were short, curly brown threads drooping down over a bulbous swelling at the top of the trunk. Two of its eyes were in their nests, with the rest out probably gathering views, although I couldn't see the empty nests—most likely hidden under the drooping brown canopy. The mouth opening was in a strange place. Instead of being low on the trunk where the gatherers could get to it, it was up near the eye-nests above a constriction in the trunk.
The most amazing part of the view was that the strange creature, instead of standing on three limbs and picking up the boobaa fruit with its fourth limb, was balanced on only two limbs, while using the other two limbs to pick up fruit. I half expected to see in the next view that the creature had fallen flat on its mouth, but the next view showed nothing, for my eye had flown past. Now severely disturbed, I went on through my worldview, erasing old views, condensing multiple views of stationary scenes, and updating the worldview with new scenes as my eyes continued to feed me the views they had collected.
My gatherer returned, climbed one of my limbs into my mouth, and placed a fresh lakefish in my crop. I lowered my mouth apron, and contentedly ground away with my gizzard at the still flopping flesh, swallowing the juices and bits of flesh with pleasure, while my gatherer fed itself from one of the teats in my mouth.
While I enjoyed my mid-day repast, I continued my journey southward through my worldview. The further I viewed, the more confused and disturbed I became. Drastic changes were taking place in the scenery in no time at all. Many sections of the worldview made no sense. A peethoo tree viewed from the north looked perfectly normal, its large sponge-like leaves sprouting from massive branches supported along their length by slender support trunks that dropped down to the ground. Yet, a view from the east showed the same section of the same peethoo tree as devastated. The slender support trunks had been cut off at the base, the main branch had fallen, and the larger of the leaves had been stripped. It was the same branch—but viewed from different directions it looked completely different. I finally realized that the view showing the damage had been viewed by one of my eyes at a slightly later time than the view showing no damage. There must have been a whirlwind for so much damage to have occurred in such a short time.
I continued on south, looking through my worldview for more signs of whirlwind damage. I finally saw the missing peethoo support trunks and leaves. They were being used to make a structure, somewhat like a storage shed, but larger. In one corner of the structure was the missing boobaa fruit. But the rest of the view was highly confusing, with objects appearing and disappearing from one glance of my eye to the next. There were more of the strange four-limbed creatures, and they kept appearing and disappearing.
Finally, two of them stayed in one place long enough that I was able to look at a series of views over time. What I viewed was most amazing! Somehow, the creatures managed to balance on just two limbs and didn't fall down! It must have been difficult though, for their other two limbs were in constant jerky motion, while their mouths were moving all the time.
All of them had only two eyes, and the eyes were always in their nests. I was forced to conclude that they only had two eyes, and those eyes never left their nests. They also seemed to have no gatherers, but instead gathered things themselves. Despite their deficient and deformed bodies, it was obvious that these creatures were intelligent beings. They wore clothing of many different colors, with a weave so fine that the threads were just barely visible in my worldview. The two that were standing together were trimming the missing peethoo support trunks to a uniform length. One of them had a standard blackglass knife, although of very crude construction, while the taller one with the yellow vine down the side of its head had a knife with a shiny luster unlike anything I had ever seen. If these creatures used tools, they were certainly not animals, and lacking gatherers to do their talking, the low growling noises coming from their rapidly moving mouths no doubt was conversation between the two creatures.
My attention was next drawn to a circle of stones in the sand. Nearby was a pile of broken sticks from dead trees that had lost their battles and had been sucked dry. Both the circle of stones and the pile of sticks were new, for my worldview showed nothing but sand the previous time one of my eyes had surveyed that section of territory. I updated my worldview and looked with care at the scene. There was a fire in the center of the stones, kept alive by the occasional addition of dried sticks by one of the strange four-limbed creatures. My body twitched in sympathy as I watched the all-devouring yellow horror licking at the fractured bodies of its prey. Despite the fact that the fire was safely fenced in by stones, I was sincerely glad that we were deep in the rainy season and everything was soaking wet. These strangers must be intelligent indeed to be able to control fire! I must arrange to meet with them and learn how they are able to do that.
I then expanded my view so I could see what the strange creature was doing with the fire. It was holding a stick over the fire. Impaled on that stick were a few chunks of something. The creature pulled one of the chunks off the stick and raised it to its naked mouth. I moved my view closer and expanded it more so I could find out what the chunk was made of. With revulsion and horror I recognized the triple-jointed structure of meat and bone, and the few still-unplucked blue-green pinfeathers on the skin . . .
The creature was eating one of my eyes!
I was so nauseated by the view that I could no longer keep down my midday meal. Although there was still plenty of juice left in the lakefish in my crop
, I regurgitated what was left and one of my gatherers took the juicy ball away. The jookeejooks would feed well today.
The midday darkness was soon over, and my eyes fluttered nervously about their nests, eager to resume their viewing. I was resolved to learn more about these strangers. I generated scanning paths for four of my eyes that would cover the territory to the south where the strangers resided. The paths were designed to be high in the sky so these eyes would not be caught by the strangers. One by one, I fed a simplified updated worldview into their brains, along with the scanning path that each was to follow. They took a last nourishing sip from their nest-teat and flew off. I kept one eye in its nest to serve me until the replacement eye opened.
I activated one of my gatherers and it scampered out of my mouth to my storage shed and soon returned with a tablet of moist writing clay. After the gatherer had returned to its teat and was connected back into me, I used its front claws to inpict a proclamation to the tribe, for I would be away many days.
"I, Seetoo, Chief of all the Keejook, am leaving on a journey to Circle Bay on the south shore to meet with the strangers who have appeared there. In my absence, you shall heed Tookee as you would me."
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