Cinnamon swung the bean pot towards me apologetically. "Will you get the water for me, please, Reiki? If you're going in that direction, that is?"
I was indeed planning to return to the shallow tide pools—the little clams had looked good to us all, and we were anxious to share a taste—and my way passed our little freshwater spring. Cinnamon hurried into the woods, and I hefted the heavy pot thoughtfully. Then I carefully pushed all the beans into it, and set it handy to the glowing coals—I am all too apt to become distracted from a cooking chore, and if the pot was where I would notice it, it would be safer. I selected a large, but much lighter, container for the water, along with a net for my catches, and went quietly down the beach.
My slippered feet made no sound on the soft wet sand, and when I saw one the little six-legged scurrying creatures busily exploring our collection of food, I stopped and watched it. It never looked in my direction, and when it finally picked up a fruit and trundled off I was certain it was unaware of my following presence. It moved rapidly and purposefully down a narrow, almost invisible trail, and seemed unaware of both the noisy rustling it caused among the bushes, and my own silent progress. I was concerned, as we were approaching some thorn thickets, but the little animal's speed never slackened. To my amazement, I saw the thorny branches divide before it! The animal hurried through without pausing, and I was able to follow before the aperture closed again. I noticed with some dismay that it did reclose, and the way behind me was as thick and thorny as ever, but my curiosity was growing with every step, and I postponed worry about my eventual return. In any case, our destination seemed to be so far ahead that we went into and out of many thorn thickets; my small guide was pursuing a beeline, and as long as I stayed quick and quiet behind it, I could follow, and then select my own way home. We traveled thus for nearly an hour, through dark forests, across a still-warm crusted tongue of lava from the nearby volcano, and we had penetrated a larger and thicker forest of thorns than I had yet seen when I suddenly saw a clearing ahead of us, and a spot of bright color.
Thus warned, I hesitated, and stayed motionless as the little animal continued on, straight ahead, up to and into a hole in the trunk of the strangest tree I have ever seen. With instinctive caution in the presence of such a large and peculiar plant, I sank into the shadow of a convenient boulder and watched. The tree is at least four meters tall and very thick in diameter—about one meter, at an estimate. The leaves atop it form a dense canopy, of a softer shade of the ubiquitous blue-green. Suspended from these upper regions are six small structures, like hanging nests. One of the nests quivered from time to time, as though it contained a living occupant. The small animal I had pursued scampered up one of the large roots of the tree into a smoothly rounded hole and disappeared. I watched for its return to sight for many minutes, but nothing happened.
All at once, I heard the whistling which has become so familiar to us, and ducked instinctively as one of the little "owls" fluttered into view and dove immediately into one of the flaccid nest-like structures. Once again I waited, watching, and noting how sturdy are the thick long roots which support the trunk—there were six of them, curved and long.
The glimpse of color which had caught my eye was red, and shaped like a curious decoration, entangled in the leaves of the canopy. In addition, hanging above the little hole in the trunk is a fabric-like banner, creamy in color, and curiously patterned in red. The trunk is girdled with a series of pouches—I was not close enough to determine if they grew from the bark or were simply hung along the surface, but there were things inside them, of varying contours. I watched closely, but caution kept me from approaching nearer—I didn't want the little owl-things to spot me while I was so far off on my own.
The thought of passing time startled me, and I realized I had better leave this fascinating tree, bedecked as it appeared to be for some celebration—by whom?—and report to the others. Accordingly, I turned back, and patiently fought the thorns in silence until I was free of that thicket and could run around the rest, back towards the beach.
By the time I reached the little spring my steps had slowed considerably, and, when I trotted up, I saw with horror the water container I had dropped. Those wretched beans! In urgent haste I filled the jar and fled towards the fire, trying desperately to think how long I had been gone. I quailed when I saw all the others there, busily carrying wood, while Cinnamon bent sadly over the pot of now-roasted beans.
"Reiki, I'm afraid you burned these even before you cooked them!" she said mildly. Comments from the others were less gentle.
"Did you say there were lots of these, Carmen?" asked Jinjur. "So, maybe, we can try again with them when someone is willing to pay attention?"
"Well, yes, there's plenty," Carmen sniffed. "But the branches are stiff and scratchy; someone else can go for the next batch!"
"I don't suppose you had any extra time to collect clams, either, Reiki? Hope you're all willing to try boiled roots tonight, folks!" taunted Shirley.
"Gack!" said Richard, with feeling.
"Too late to do anything about that now. C'mon, Reiki, help us hustle for dry wood—haven't you noticed the sky?" David's importunate query caught my ear. Of course I hadn't noticed the sky, having been far too interested in my strange tree. Now I looked and saw that the rain had stopped, at least for a while, and the sky above was clearing. It was near noon, and the darkness was falling as Barnard slid behind Gargantua. Beautifully, magically, the elliptical light of Prometheus shone in the darkening heavens through the thinning clouds! My whole self ached with the glorious sight, so familiar and dear, and containing everything I knew of home!
Hastily, I sloshed the useless water into the bean pot and hurried to help. We had, several days previously, formed a huge cross on the sand, as straight and true as possible with the naked eye, and built up a wide ridge of sand along the lines. This sand was quick to drain dry, and along the ridges we hastily and evenly piled our tinder, bringing it from the big supply we kept under shelter. We worked quickly in the fading light, for ominous clouds were gathering again. Then each of us took a portion of the burning coals, and at Jinjur's signal we bent to set our bonfire alight. Rapidly, the dry wood caught, and the flames spread along the bisecting lines, even, straight, and burning brightly. It was a splendid fiery cross! We watched it burn, in silence, and willed our thoughts upwards with the sparks. For half an hour we kept it flaming, sending its clear signal of life and hope. Then, with planned precision, we snuffed it out, as close as we could do it all at one time. This too is part of the signal, indicating we are in some degree of control, at present. As we extinguished the last embers with sand, we were all quiet. We have done what we can, and just about all we can, to reestablish communication with our parent ship. The next move will be up to them. Pensively, wearily, we drifted slowly back towards our campfire as the next storm front moved in and it started to rain again.
Suddenly, Carmen, in the lead, sniffed twice. "What's that I smell? It smells like . . .no . . .it can't be . . .coffee?"
The scent coming on the rising little breeze was not coffee, really, but it was not unpleasant; it was toasty, and warm, with a definite character. Arielle broke into a run and hurried to my steaming bean pot. She and Cinnamon bent over it hopefully, and found spoons to taste.
"Reiki!" said Carmen, her eyes glowing in the firelight. "It's not coffee—yet! But with a little more careful roasting than you gave it, and grinding of course, I think we can come up with something pretty close!" She took another sip. "It's already better than we had on Prometheus!" she enthused. I remembered when our original stores had been used up, and how disgusted she had been with the Christmas Bush version of the brew. I smiled happily at her, noticing again how pretty Carmen is now that all the makeup she wore has vanished.
Quickly the others tasted, critical, but genuinely appreciative of my serendipitous concoction. I've never been a connoisseur of coffee, and to me it tasted both weak and bitter, but perhaps that can be bettered
when the cooks are in charge. At any rate, it helped to make up for the meagerness of the rest of our meal, for which I was grateful!
"You know, Reiki, in the normal course of events, you'd never have had a thing to do with beans, or fire, or even making mistakes," said Shirley thoughtfully. "Of course I'll be only too happy to turn everything back over to James, when we can, but . . .it's really rather exciting, doing things for ourselves."
Jinjur grinned, her white teeth bright in the firelight. "So far we've been lucky," she said. "We're still just blundering around, without really knowing what we're doing."
David glanced up at the leafy roof above us. "Well, considering, I agree with Shirley. I never helped raise a roof before, never thought I would, but it's up and doing the job, and we sure did every bit of it ourselves."
"After all the high-tech apparatus built into my standing desk in the hydroponics lab, this is a definite come-down! But it works," Nels admitted. "This" is a long, narrow, flat-topped work area, consisting of leaf-planks lying on simple saw-horse arrangements. It accommodates Nels's lanky height as well as Arielle's small stature by the simple expedient of going uphill, and each of us has found a spot upon it that suits us.
While we at, and rested through the remaining dark hour of midday, I completed this entry into my journal, but said no word of the discovery of the decorated tree. I don't know why I am keeping that to myself, nor why I am determined to return to it as quickly as I can. It's unlike me to be secretive, but, in this case, the secrecy is compelling.
Would the bizarre interview have concluded less happily, if I had not kept my discovery to myself? I flatter myself that it might have indeed, but of course I cannot be sure.
Before the light had advanced even to dimness, I slipped off, heading silently back to the strange tree I had found. I made good speed, although the light was still gloomy in the slow rain. I had gone well over a mile when I heard, ahead of me, the peculiar whistling we had been puzzling over, and I hid behind the trunk of one of the big banyan-like trees; if this approaching "owl" was communicating with anyone, I wanted no warning of my presence to be communicated. The "owl" flew past me, and I went warily, from cover to cover, hoping I might find who, or what, had been decorating the tree.
Ahead of me I could hear strange new sounds—sounds unlike any I had ever heard before. Keeping out of sight as much as possible, I approached the final thicket where I had last seen the tree, peered through the thorny foliage, then stood, absolutely transfixed. The strange "tree" was MOVING! I cannot express my shock, at seeing the long, thick roots alternately lifting, three at a time, transporting the "plant," slowly, ponderously, with very definite intent, in an elephantine but effective march!
As I stared, dumbfounded, several of the little "owls" emerged from the nest-like structures in the canopy, and flew off in various directions. Their strange cries instantly began again, whether to signal each other or the big "tree" I had no way of knowing. The moving green giant had now reached the edge of the thorny barrier. With difficulty, I remained quiet, struggling to assimilate the meaning of what I was seeing, as the spiky coils rolled back upon themselves, and the "tree" continued its plodding pace, through the opening in the barrier!
Keeping out of sight, I followed the slow progress of the incredible traveling plant. I was fascinated to see that the method of locomotion, while tediously slow, provides maximum stability for what must be considerable weight. The front "leg," as that is what it seems to be, moves in unison with the back side pair for a single massive step; then the trunk is balanced on those three legs while the front side pair and the rear leg move forward in the next step. It is a series of smooth, slow movements, seemingly hydraulic in nature. They were carrying the beast smoothly along the trail; with yet another shock, I realized that the trail was one that led directly to our camp!
I ran ahead to find a good vantage point where I could watch the trail without being seen. It was hours later, and well into the afternoon, when the tree finally ambled into view. It stopped at a thorn thicket just off the trail, and, after a whistle which somehow produced an opening, it went inside. In about the center of the thicket, the "plant" paused in its motion.
In increasing disbelief I watched as one of the roots rose, slowly and smoothly, to the belt around its middle and, without fumbling, removed from a scabbard what certainly looked like an obsidian blade! Two other legs rose to a net hanging down from the blue-green fronds to remove and unwrap a package containing a chunk of something. Using the sharp blade with precision, and an economy of movement that told its own story of sophistication, the amazing creature cut the contents of the package into segments. Some of these segments it swung up to the opening in the "trunk" where they were taken by the small creatures inside. The remaining segments were rewrapped, equally slowly and exactly, in what looked like a thin waxy leaf and placed back into the carrying net.
Then, carefully, the roots lowered the red-embroidered, apron-like cloth until it covered the hole in the trunk. From behind the cloth I could hear soft but definite crunching noises, and I concluded that the segments were being consumed in some fashion.
The thing had been standing still while this took place, but it now resumed its ponderous progress. I began to think, as hard as I could, and swiftly. The strange decorations on the "tree" were, even from this distance, both bizarre and formal, and immaculately clean; it was impossible to mistake a genuine intent in this steady advance; nor could I overlook the obvious intelligence concealed somewhere in this alien creature. We were soon to receive a most unusual visitor!
Quickly, I considered my options. At the rate the giant "plant" was moving, it would be a number of hours at least before it would come near enough to our small camp to meet any of the others by chance. I would have plenty of time to warn them—if that was what was necessary here! But I waited, thinking. This approach had much of stateliness about it, and nothing of hostility. A native of this world, of such size, with unmistakable technical abilities, with appreciation of adornment for its own sake, with apparent control over at least some other species extant here—all of this indicated an emissary worthy of our own most civilized behavior. In an initial confrontation, it was vital that our behavior be not only civilized, but universally understandable. I stood, and took a deep breath.
I felt, very strongly, that I was better suited to make the first tentative step towards amity than most of the others, if not all. I hoped I might be able to provide a peaceful liaison between this incredible being and the weary, worried members of my group. At any rate, I resolved to try.
Still keeping myself concealed from the "owls," who did indeed seem to serve as advance warning for the "tree," I hurried ahead some distance and began to look for a suitable meeting site. It was important that I appear calm and ready for the greeting, and neither hostile nor servile. I found what I was looking for, a few feet off the creature's direct line of march. It was a large rock, to the top of which I was able to climb with a few easy steps. Here I sat, straight, and as still as I could hold.
The moving tree came steadily on. One of the small flying creatures, returning, caught sight of me and emitted such a startled squeak of sound that I nearly laughed. It circled me twice and then flew back to its nest on the animal. After moving about inside for a short while, it returned to the opening in the nest and stayed there, its large eye focused directly upon me. The giant creature stopped, and from the surrounding forest, two other "owls" emerged, returning immediately to their "nests," from which all three surveyed me unblinkingly. I sat motionless, except for speaking softly into the recorder, while I was examined, and commented on apparently, for several minutes.
Then, slowly, almost formally, the tree started walking toward me. With each step it raised its moving legs high, and spread the roots at the tips of the legs, as if to show that they were empty of weapons. One of the small scurrying creatures, poised in the trunk opening, whistled a melody different from any I had heard before. It was brief, an
d repeated several times. There was no doubt in my mind that I was being greeted in a most formal and peaceful manner.
Before it had come much nearer, I stood up on the rock, put the recorder into my pocket, extended my own arms and opened my empty hands. I remained standing tall for a minute, my head nearly level with the top of the fronds on the alien, and then, carefully and precisely I stepped from the rock and lowered my arms. I wanted to make it clear that while I could move with much greater speed than the being before me, I chose not to do so at this time. With slow and steady steps I approached, stopping about five meters in front of the now motionless creature. As slowly and formally as I could, I bowed low. This elicited a ripple of movement from the creature. I straightened, and began to speak in my normal voice.
"I and my friends have come in peace to visit your land. We mean you no harm, although we find ourselves in need of sustenance and shelter, which we have made bold to take for ourselves. We hope that our visit will be beneficial to us, and at least harmless to you. Perhaps we can learn much of value from each other. Certainly, if that is the case, it will be in our mutual best interest to pursue the ways of friendship."
Of course I knew my words would mean nothing to the intelligence before me, but I have long observed that the tones in a human voice convey infinitely more subtle messages than words. The fact that I appreciated and was impressed by the awesome presence of this being would inevitably be communicated if I spoke sincerely, and, more importantly, at some length. I paused, and then, as nearly as I could, I repeated the little tune of greeting.
My heart was pounding, but I soon controlled my breathing and was quiet again. The little animal in the opening vanished suddenly, which caught my eye. It was instantly replaced—by a different one? I could not tell. It began whistling something—neither song nor speech, but with something of each—which went on for nearly a minute. As it was concluding, I saw, with some trepidation, one of the long "legs" rising slowly towards me. It came steadily on, until it was in the air, midway between us, when it stopped. Carefully, slowly, I extended my hand, and, with the lightest possible touch, put my fingers on the outstretched root of the alien. It felt as much like a plant as it looked, but nonetheless real, and I withdrew my hand slowly, my mind tingling as my fingers were not, at the unbelievable meeting.
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