Return to Eden

by Harry Harrison

  “And found before the uruketo returns,” Ambalasei said. She looked at Elem. “Suggestion strongly given to leave at once and not return until the creature has eaten its fill.”

  Elem signed complete agreement and turned to go. Ambalasei left with her and did not speak until they were well away from the ambesed. “How many days will this take?”

  “Three, possibly four, depending upon the fishing.”

  “Take seven. If they have not come up with a solution to this problem in six days they never will. Far< is not going to do us the service of lying down and dying.”

  Nor did she. Every morning she and her followers appeared in the ambesed. They asked the same two questions always. Have the Eight Principles revealed the answer? For five days they were answered only with silence, after which they asked the second question; has the uruketo returned? Then they left. Ambalasei did not attend these unhappy sessions: if there were solutions of any kind she would hear of them soon enough. She spent peaceful days examining and cataloging the specimens they had brought back. Only on the sixth day did she go to the ambesed soon after the sun rose, taking the eistaa’s place with some satisfaction. She was the first to arrive and acknowledged the greetings of the others as they approached, waited to speak until they were all there.

  “Have you found the solution?” she asked. There was a great unhappiness behind Enge’s negative response.

  “It eludes us.”

  “Undoubtedly because it does not exist. Then you will permit Far< to leave?”

  “We cannot stop her.”

  “That is to be seen.”

  There were movements at the ambesed entrance as Far< and her loyal followers entered. There were more of them now for her intent-of-purpose had inspired many. Ambalasei writhed in obvious distaste as Far< came and stood before them, then spoke.

  “Has the answer been found among the Eight Principles?” There was superiority in her attitude as she looked at each of the silent Yilanè in turn. As she started to speak again Ambalasei interrupted.

  “The answer is yes and no.”

  “I do not speak to you or listen to you because you do not believe.”

  “Your not speaking is too wonderful to even consider. But you will listen because what you do depends on my permission.”

  Far< turned her back with motions of dismissal, would hear no more. It was Enge who spoke.

  “Sorrow and apologies for lack of grace/rude behavior of a companion. What permission is it you speak of, Ambalasei?”

  “The uruketo returns tomorrow.”

  “We will leave then,” Far< said firmly; she had been listening with one eye.

  “You will not!” Ambalasei spoke the command loudly and harshly. “I will remind you that the uruketo is mine, taken by me and controlled by me. Do you have any doubt about that?”

  As always they turned to Enge for guidance. She stood in silent, unmoving thought, then gestured compliance.

  “In this matter we must do as Ambalasei says. Freely she had herself imprisoned with us, escaped with us—and did indeed see that we left that city of unhappiness in this uruketo. She guided us here and grew our city of life. We have used the uruketo, but we use it only as she wills . . .”

  “Wrong!” Far< said loudly. “If she does that then she is our eistaa and we have no eistaa.”

  “Nor do you have an uruketo,” Ambalasei said with pleasurable malice. “You will do as I say or you will stay in the city. You are very young, hotheaded, vain and foolish Far<, though others might not agree. But you will do as I say, accept my instructions or try to swim back to Gendasi*. And it is a very long swim, even to one of your great strength of will.”

  Ambalasei leaned back against the warm wood and basked in the intensity of Far<’s hatred.

  FOURTEEN

  It was Enge, as always, who labored to bring peace to the warring factions

  “Ugunenapsa teaches us that we all dwell in the city of life. Ambalasei is equal to you in this city, Far<. And she is superior to you in all other ways, in her knowledge and skills, and particularly in her labors for the Daughters of Life. In this she is far ahead of me and second only to Ugunenapsa who revealed the truths. We are here, our city is here—and you are here Far<—because she brought you here. Any future labors that you may do will be done because she freed you. I do not ask for gratitude, but I do request acknowledgment of this fact from you.”

  Far< was still angry. “Am I to take your orders, too, Enge? Are you my eistaa now?”

  Enge stayed calm in the face of her wrath. “I command you only to state a fact. Is Ambalasei responsible for your freedom?”

  After a reluctant silence Far< signed a stiff positive motion. Enge acknowledged it.

  “That is good. Never forget it. As Ambalasei has helped us in the past, so will she help us in the future. Therefore when she wishes to speak to you of conditions of use of the uruketo you owe her the courtesy of at least listening. You may reject the conditions, but you must listen. Do you agree?”

  Far< lowered her eyes in deep thought and when she raised them again her anger had faded and she signed supplication. “In my zeal to spread the teachings of Ugunenapsa and to insure the continuation of those teachings, I have permitted myself to be moved to anger. For this I apologize to you and the other Daughters of Life.” She directed a gesture of dismissal in Ambalasei’s direction. “I do not and will not apologize to this unbeliever.”

  “Nor do I wish it, obnoxious one. I have heard that the stature of a Yilanè is measured by her enemies. I hope that I can number you among them because I am lost if I call you friend. Now—will you follow my instructions?”

  “I will listen to them,” she hissed in answer.

  “For you, a reasonable statement.” With signs of dismissal of unimportance she turned away and addressed the others. “We will now discuss facts historical and their bearing on events to come. All of you here were at one time unbelievers. Then you were spoken to by such as Enge, saw the light, so to speak, and became believers. Is that not what happened?” She nodded at the motions of agreement. “So that is the way Daughters are recruited. Where did this take place? I ask you Enge.”

  “For me it was in the city of Inegban* where I spoke with a Yilanè of great learning by the name of Essokel.”

  “In the city?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And you others,” Ambalasei said with a gesture that embraced their totality. “All of you learned of Ugunenapsa’s inspiring philosophy in a city?”

  Each signed agreement, even Far< with great reluctance. “Of course it would have to be that way. You were all Yilanè or you would not have been able to understand the arguments. But do these conversions really conform to Ugunenapsa’s exhortations in her eighth principle? Do I not sense strong discrimination here?”

  There were movements and signs of puzzlement on all sides—and a flare of colored rejection from Far< who would not even consider Ugunenapsa’s principles when voiced by this unbeliever. Only Enge stood silent and thoughtful, her limbs and tail writhing slightly in echo of cogitation. Now Ambalasei watched her alone as her movements quickened and coalesced and she threw her arms wide with joy of discovery.

  “As always, great Ambalasei brightens us with the clarity of her thought and we must give her praise, highest praise.”

  Far< signed refusal, the others query, Ambalasei a pleased acknowledgment of credit where credit was due. Enge’s body moved uncontrollably with the intensity of her emotions.

  “Ambalasei has the breadth of intelligence and understanding to show us where to look in Ugunenapsa’s teachings. The answer was always there, it was just our ineptitude that prevented us from seeing it. Does not the eighth principle state that we bear the responsibility to help all others to know the spirit of life and the way of life? Yet why do we limit ourselves so?”

  She ended with a query and desire for answer. There was still puzzlement and contempt from Far<.

  “Will you have u
s explain the principles of Ugunenapsa to the fishes in the sea?”

  “Silence, Far<,” Satsat said, anger sharpening her movements. “You dishonor us as well as yourself with the darkness of your thoughts. Ambalasei has indeed led us to the truth—and in that she is more loyal to Ugunenapsa’s teachings than you are with your rejections. We were all Yilanè when we learned of Ugunenapsa. Because of this we think only of Yilanè. But we forget the fargi. All of them wanting only to learn from us, their minds empty vessels ready to be filled with Ugunenapsa’s truth.”

  “It takes one of great intelligence to see things hidden from those of lesser ability,” Ambalasei said with her usual modesty. “Here is what you must do. Go to the fargi and teach them. In their urge to communicate they will believe anything. Go to them when they leave the beaches and before they enter the city. Give them food, that will certainly draw their attention, then speak to them of Ugunenapsa and tell them how they will live forever. Do that and you will get all the recruits you need. And by staying away from the city you won’t get seized and imprisoned as you have in the past. The fargi are numberless; your converts will never be missed. Agree to do this and the uruketo will take you to a city, to the beaches beyond the city.”

  Ambalasei accepted their gratitude as her due, listened to the animated discussion. But she kept one eye on Far< always and Enge soon became aware of this. She signed for attention, then turned to Far<.

  “And what do you say to this? Will you take Ugunenapsa’s truth to the fargi?”

  They were all silent and watching now, interested in what their argumentative sister would answer. They saw her lift her head, sign firmness of resolve, then speak.

  “I have not been wrong—but I have perhaps been overzealous. Ambalasei has led us to the truth and for this I thank her. I will go to the fargi and speak to them so that this city may live. I thank her again for helping us.”

  There were overtones of dislike behind what she said, but she still spoke with sincerity. Enge, filled with the joy of revelation, seeing the answer to this vexatious problem before her, ignored these small signs. Peace had been restored. Ugunenapsa’s great work would proceed.

  “What are your commands, great Ambalasei?” Enge asked, speaking as a supplicant and not an equal. Ambalasei acknowledged this with easy acceptance.

  “I will grow containers for preserved meat. When these are ready and filled we will leave. I suggest a limited number be allowed to preach so there will be room in the uruketo when it returns for those whom you have converted. When the meat is gone and the conversions made the uruketo will come back here. This city will grow, particularly with young and strong fargi to do the labors.”

  “When you spoke of leaving you said when we leave,” Enge observed. “Then you intend to go in the uruketo?”

  “Naturally. Who else is able to organize this better than I? And I yearn for discussions where a certain name is never mentioned. Now agree among yourselves who is to go. I suggest five as a maximum number.”

  “Suggest?” Far< said, an edge of apprehension and distaste behind the question.

  “Order, if you prefer that. But I am magnanimous and do not bear grudges. You and four others if that is what you want. Will you come, Enge?”

  “My place must be here in the city now, readying it for the newcomers, though my strongest wish is to join you. Satsat, closest to me, will you go in my place?”

  “Gladly!”

  “Three more then,” Ambalasei said and stretched her stiff muscles and walked away. “I will inform you when it is time to leave,” she called back, then left the ambesed. At an easy pace went through the city that she had grown, that was named in her honor. But she walked slowly now and she knew that this was more than fatigue. She was old and often, in moments of quiet thought, she felt that she was reaching the limits of her physical powers. The end would come, not tomorrow but perhaps tomorrow’s tomorrow was waiting with its void of emptiness. There were things that must be done before that inevitable moment arrived. Setèssei was mounting specimens when she entered but instantly ceased and signed readiness for instruction.

  “Containers to be grown,” Ambalasei said as she rooted through a store of dried eggs and pods. She found what she wanted and gave them to her assistant. “Nutrient fluid needed for growth, then preserved meat to be sealed in them. But first bring me the ugunkshaa and a memory creature.”

  “Which memory do you seek?”

  “One of no real importance for I need to make a record.”

  “There are early reminders of ocean currents and winds of the south, now supplanted by observations of discovery.”

  “Perfectly correct. I do not keep partial records of vagueness—only historically important successes.”

  The ugunkshaa, a severely mutated creature of no intelligence, squatted before Ambalasei, its great organic molecule lens staring sightlessly up at her. Setèssei placed the memory creature beside it and delicately inserted one of the tendrils above its withered eyes into a fold of flesh on the memory-speaker. As she made subtle adjustments a black and white image flickered across the lens and there were muted sounds of a voice. These stopped when the other, smaller eye, slowly opened and stared at Ambalasei.

  “As you speak now, so shall it listen and remember,” Setèssei said stepping back.

  Ambalasei dismissed her, gathered her thoughts, then began to talk. Every motion, every sound she made was registered indelibly in the memory creature’s brain.

  “I will tell you first of the rivers in the sea that led me to this new land . . .”

  “My greatly-trusted Setèssei will stay with you while I am away,” Ambalasei said. “While of course not my equal, she is skilled in the matters of the city, having helped to grow it, and is skilled also in the treatment of wounds that your clumsy sisters seem to acquire with such ease.”

  “Gratitude-magnified-multifold,” Enge signed. “All is in readiness for departure?”

  “Almost all. The last of the preserved meat should be ready today. As soon as it is aboard we will leave. The morning will be best since I want to make observations of the ocean currents as they flow north and diminish. The connections between my new charts and the old must be made. After that I wish to see this city you spoke to me of, Alpèasak.”

  “Death and destruction by fire! All Yilanè dead and ustuzou with killing stone-teeth in the streets and groves.”

  “Yet you lived, Enge, and others.”

  “The few surviving Daughters of Life fled in the uruketo and are here now with me. There was also the uruketo’s commander and the crewmembers. And one whose name I will not speak. There was also a male, name unknown, and the scientist Akotolp.”

  “Akotolp! She who was fat and round as a river eel?”

  “The same.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Unknown. We left the uruketo, as I have told you, to escape persecution at the thumbs of the nameless one.”

  “I must see this city. Perhaps the ustuzou have gone. In any case the currents flow in that direction and past and on to the shores of Entoban*. Observations to be made, charts to be rationalized.”

  They departed soon after dawn, slipping out into the river and down to the open sea. Ambalasei had enlisted the aid of two crewmembers to trail the neskhak in the sea as they went. The neskhak swam strongly, seeking safety, but were pulled back aboard by their grossly extended tails. Since their skin color varied with the water temperature, Ambalasei would make notes on her charts and have them thrown overboard again. Freed of any labors, the missionary Daughters of course spent their waking hours in discussion of the Eight Principles—deep within the uruketo where Ambalasei could not hear them.

  It was a pleasant and warm journey to be greatly enjoyed. All too soon they were passing the island of Maninlè, then the jewel-like islands of Alakas-aksehent. By this time Ambalasei was fatigued by her labors and sleeping below. The charts, new and old, were joined and complete. The known world was that much bigger
thanks to her genius. Having accomplished this she slept very well, wakening only at the touch on her arm. It was Elem, the commander, signing attention and obedience to commands.

  “You ordered me to waken you when the mainland of Gendasi* was in sight.”

  “Is it?”

  “Obscured by rainclouds at the moment, but it is there certainly enough.”

  “I come. Assistance in rising needed. Muscles stiffen from damp and sleep.”

  Elem’s strong arms helped her to her feet and she walked slowly to the fin, climbed it laboriously, complaining continuously. The two crewmembers there came tumbling down pursued by her wrath, though she signed Elem to join her.

  “Have you been here before?” Ambalasei asked.

  “No, but the charts are clearly marked. We have but to follow the chain of golden islands to this swampy coastline. Alpèasak lies to the north.”

  The rain had blown out to sea and the low coastline was clearly visible now. A sandy shore with forests behind. Elem glanced up at the sun. “We should be there before dark.”

  “If there is any doubt, stand out to sea. Remember the ustuzou Enge told us of.”

  “Horrible, beyond understanding, deadly.”

  “But nevertheless there. Precautions manifold.”

  “Perhaps not needed,” Elem said, shielding her eyes against the sun. “Movement near coastline, uruketo, boats.”

  Ambalasei muttered and blinked but could not see them clearly at first. Only when they were closer could she make out the details.

  “Observations of great interest. The city is obviously Yilanè once again. Docks there, other uruketo. But do not approach it yet. Go close to shore, there, by those beaches. And have the missionaries come up here now. Bring up the meat containers as well.”