Return to Eden

by Harry Harrison

  “The kill is good, the ularuaq fill the sea so full you can walk across it on their backs. All the women have had babies, sometimes three and four at a time. We have found how to catch and kill the big birds. And how is it for you here? You must tell me so I can tell Angajorqaq for she will beat me savagely if I do not remember and tell her everything.”

  “We are all together, there is peace. There are babies—but not like the Paramutan for we do not lie as well as the Paramutan. But all is well.”

  When all of the meat was gone the Paramutan ran to the ikkergak, now beached by the receding tide, and rooted out the bundles of hides. Hanath and Morgil brought their knives and spearheads to the beach and, with much excitement and shouting, the trading began. Armun was in great demand for translation. Kerrick sat down on the dune away from all the turmoil and Kalaleq came over to join him. The language was coming back to Kerrick now and talking was easier.

  “We were filled with fear when we found that all the hunters were gone,” Kalaleq said.

  “Gone from the north and the snows. We have a camp far south of here. The hunting is good and it is warm all the time.”

  “I would die! Even here the heat burns.” Kerrick smiled at this, his skin garments closed tight against the chill wind from the ocean. “We have caught much fish, sought out certain plants we must have for the takkuuk, leaves and the inner bark of certain trees for brewing with water for drinking. But the need for knives is great and we wept with fear that we would have to return without them. Now we weep with joy to have found you—and spearheads too.”

  Armun came to join them, handed Kalaleq the folded square of woven charadis cloth. Kalaleq shook it out and held it to the sky.

  “What is it, unbelievable! Soft as the fur on a baby’s bottom. Smells good too.”

  “It is for Angajorqaq,” Armun said. “It can be worn around the head like this, let me show you. It is woven from the fibers of a certain plant. It is something the Sesak do. They are hunters who live inland, far from the sea.”

  “Oh, what skills they have, even though they must weep daily not being able to see the ocean. There are so many marvels here, this charadis, your spears, your bows, your spearheads, your knives, the ekkotaz—I must eat more!”

  “You have many marvels as well,” she said, laughing and pushing his hands away. Food and sex, that was the Paramutan way. “Your ikkergak that you sail in, your harpoons for killing, small boats with sails, pumps and whistles.”

  “You are right—we are so good! We make so many things my mind goes around and around just thinking about it.”

  Kerrick was smiling at the bragging and all the artifacts they told each other about, all the things they made. Tanu, Paramutan—even Sasku. They were so different, yet they were the same. They made things. So very different from the Yilanè who could make nothing. Only the Yilanè males were creative. They were artistic, made sculptures of metal, the two who had escaped the hanalè had even learned to fish and hunt. But the females constructed nothing. Everything they had was grown. They were good enough at this, at least the scientists were. But they were still incapable of making something even as simple as a spear.

  Then Kerrick grew very still as the thought gripped him. The realization that the world was not what he had always thought it was. He had been born Tanu but grew up as a Yilanè and too much of his thinking was still Yilanè.

  But no more! He could see the future with a greater clarity now. He knew just what it was he had to do.

  eistaapeleghè eistaaii, yilanè’ninkuru yilanè gebgeleb.

  YILANÈ APOTHEGM

  * * *

  A Yilanè with two eistaa? Disgustedly impossible/inconceivable.

  THIRTY

  It was the largest river that Fafnepto had ever seen, larger even than the ones she knew in Entoban*. The soil that it carried spread far out into sea, formed banks and islands that clogged the river’s mouth. It took them many days just to find the main channels through the islands, before they entered the river itself where it flowed between high bluffs. They swam the uruketo upstream for an entire day and the river was just as wide as ever. That night they drifted in the backcurrents of the shallows and in the morning were ready to go on. Fafnepto saw that Gunugul and Vaintè were already on the fin, climbed up to join them. They had to hold tight to the edge of the fin which was rocking back and forth as the uruketo thrashed itself free of the shallow water. When they were once more in the deep channel Fafnepto signed for attention.

  “This is a large river,” she said. “The size of it, and the many days we have spent on this search, force me to a single conclusion. I have come to the realization that Gendasi* is not Entoban* and things cannot be done the same way here. This land is rich, but it is empty. Not empty of life as we well know, but empty of Yilanè. It is still strange to me to see a rivermouth like this without a fine city upon its banks. Then I remember that there are still cities in Entoban* that grow cold as the winter comes close. When I return I will go to them and tell them not to fear. There is an empty world here for the filling. You know that, Vaintè, for did you not grow the first city on these shores?”

  “Alpèasak. I did. You are correct in everything you say.”

  “That reassures me. Now you must follow my thoughts again. The Eistaa Saagakel has entrusted me with this mission. She has ordered me to find the uruketo that was taken from her, to find Ambalasei who ordered its taking. Is this not what I agreed to do?”

  “It is,” Vaintè said, wondering what this was all leading to. Fafnepto was as circuitous with her language and thought processes as she was direct and decisive in the forest. Perhaps it was the solitary life. Vaintè hid her impatience in a posture of rigid attention to listening.

  “Then you will understand my concern now that I have come to believe that I am not fulfilling the Eistaa’s trust, nor following her orders, if we proceed as we have been doing. I have come to believe that we will never find that which we seek by chance. We must have aid.”

  “And what do you propose?” Vaintè said, having a very good idea of what was coming next.

  “We must return along the coast, to the city of Alpèasak, and talk with those there. They may have some knowledge of the uruketo we seek.”

  “And they may not,” Gunugul said.

  “Then we have lost nothing because our search will continue. But it is my conclusion now that we must seek them out. Vaintè, what are your thoughts?”

  Vaintè looked out at the width of the river and signed equality of choice. “The decision must be yours, Fafnepto, for the final command is yours. There may be knowledge of those we seek in Alpèasak. But you must know one thing before we go. The Eistaa there is Lanefenuu, she who was Eistaa of Ikhalmenets before it came to Alpèasak. It was I, as you know, who freed Alpèasak of the ustuzou so she could bring her own city there. In her name I pursued and killed the ustuzou, and then in her name I ceased the war upon them. I have not spoken of it before but I will tell you now. We were joined in friendship once; we are joined no longer. I served her once; she rejects my presence now. Do you understand?

  Fafnepto’s thumbs flicked in understanding-amplified.

  “I have served many eistaa in many cities and know their ways. Because they rule they issue orders only and do not listen closely. They hear what they want to hear, say what they want to say. What is between you and Lanefenuu will remain between you. I serve Saagakel and go to this city as her missionary. It is my thought that we leave this river and return to the ocean. Then proceed to Alpèasak. Will you do that Fafnepto?”

  “You speak for my Eistaa. We go now to Alpèasak.”

  The enteesenat had never liked the murky river water, now leapt high with pleasure and smacked back in a welter of foam when they turned and headed downstream. Once out in the open ocean they proceeded east along the coast. Although there were still lookouts always posted on the fin, they went far more quickly than they had on the outward voyage. They passed the bays and inlets they had sear
ched before, but now stayed in the deeper water. Gunugul had charted the currents and when the uruketo followed them away from shore she did not change the course. Once they were out of sight of land for three days as they swam in a deep-sea current. When they next saw the shore it was ahead of them, green with tropical trees. Fafnepto joined Vaintè on the fin and her palm colors signed recognition.

  “I know this coast. We first went north along here after leaving the islands.”

  Vaintè expressed agreement. “I think you are right—and if you are, we are very close to Alpèasak.”

  “Is the city on the ocean?”

  “On the ocean and the river as well. The beaches are large, the water warm, the game abundant. It may not be as old as other Yilanè cities but in its youthfulness it has a newgrowth/attraction that many cities do not have.”

  The crewmember on watch had been summoned below. None could hear them now when they spoke. There were matters that Fafnepto wanted to know about.

  “I have never visited seagirt Ikhalmenets.”

  “Nor will you ever. The snow of winter is there, all are gone.”

  “And all in Alpèasak now. Lanefenuu is Eistaa there now, just as you were Eistaa there once.” Vaintè signed agreement. “I will talk with Lanefenuu and she will know of your presence. Before that time I would like to have more knowledge of her, and of you and her, and what will happen when you meet again.”

  Vaintè signed understanding. “As to the last—I do not know. For my part I will do nothing, say nothing. But I am sure that she will have a great deal to say. You yourself have told me that an eistaa respects no rule other than her own. This Eistaa commanded me to clear the city of the ustuzou that infested it. I did that. I pursued and killed them as they fled. I had them all between my thumbs, was about to kill them all—when the Eistaa stopped me. I obeyed her orders but I was not pleased. And it would be correct to say that she was not pleased that I was not pleased.”

  “Delicacy of relationship understood. Relationship of an eistaa to an eistaa a difficult one. I will not speak of the matter again.” She started to add something but a crew-member came up from below and their conversation was at an end. In the short time before they reached Alpèasak there was no opportunity to resume it.

  Vaintè had no desire to see Alpèasak again: she had no choice. She stood on the fin as the familiar landscape moved slowly by. There was the sandy beach where the uruketo had come for them when she had fled the city’s destruction by fire, the trees behind it freshly grown where the others had burned. This was where she had left Alpèasak, watched Stallan die. Watched her city die. There was the river now—and the worn wood of the docks and the dark forms of uruketo. She had left from here the second time, never thought that she would return. Now she had—though not of her own choosing. None of the turmoil of her thoughts showed for she stood rigid and still. Stayed that way when Fafnepto joined her, while Gunugul directed them close. Until the uruketo bumped the dock as the creature sought the food placed there for it.

  Fafnepto was without her hèsotsan for the first time, for it was not right to go armed into another’s city. Normally she went unadorned but now, as her eistaa’s representative, her arms were painted with likenesses of the metal bridges of Yebeisk.

  “For the moment, Gunugul,” she said, “I would like you to stay with the uruketo.” Gunugul signed obedience to commands as Fafnepto turned one eye to look at Vaintè. “Do you also remain here?”

  Vaintè signed a rough negative. “I do not cower in the darkness. I am without fear. I will go with you to the ambesed for I am also a representative of Saagakel.”

  Fafnepto acknowledged and accepted. “Then you will lead the way for I am certain that you know where to go.”

  They climbed down from the fin and stepped onto the scarred wood of the dock. The commander of the next uruketo was there as well, a Yilanè whom Vaintè had sailed with. She showed shock and confusion at Vaintè’s presence and did not greet her. Vaintè turned away with cold disdain and kept her arms shaped that way as she led the way into the city. The gaping fargi pressed back to let them pass, crowded after them and followed behind. Vaintè saw Yilanè whom she recognized, but she gave no outward sign of this. Nor did they, for all knew of her differences with the Eistaa. Now Yilanè as well as fargi followed in their wake.

  The city was as she had known it, for cities do not change. The guarded hanalè was there, beyond it the first of the meat vats. And there the wide and sunny way that ended in the ambesed. Here there was one change as Lanefenuu strove to remind herself of now-abandoned Ikhalmenets. Two males, surrounded and protected by guards, were carving the thick bole of the city tree. The peak of the central mountain of the island they had left was already clearly visible. Lanefenuu herself was supervising the work and did not turn until they were very close. Until Fafnepto stopped and made the politest sound for attention to speaking.

  “My greetings to a stranger,” Lanefenuu said—then stopped when she recognized Vaintè at Fafnepto’s side. A flush of crimson swept through her crest as her lips pulled back from her teeth into the position that signified prepared-for-eating.

  “You come here, Vaintè—you dare enter my ambesed!”

  “I come under the orders of Saagakel, Eistaa of Yebeisk. She commands me now.”

  “Then you have indeed forgotten that I commanded you once. I banished you from Gendasi* and from Alpèasak—and from my presence forever. And yet you return.”

  The color was gone from her crest, her jaw clamped tightly closed, cold anger in every arch of her body. Vaintè did not speak and it was Fafnepto who bravely broke the silence.

  “I am Fafnepto, sent to Gendasi* on a mission from Saagakel, Eistaa of Yebeisk. I bear you her greetings.”

  Lanefenuu looked briefly at Fafnepto, then away. “I will greet you and speak with you presently, Fafnepto. As soon as I dispose of this one rejected/returned.”

  “I am not one who can be disposed of. I wanted my presence here known. Now I return to the uruketo of Yebeisk. I will wait for you there, Fafnepto.”

  There was moaning on all sides as the nearest fargi fled the cold voices and poisonous postures of the two antagonists. Vaintè first stood unmoving after she had finished speaking, radiating lack of fear/firmness of resolve, then slowly turned away. She saw those whom she knew among the gathered Yilanè, but she gave no sign. Expressing strength and hatred in equal parts she slowly paced the length of the ambesed and was gone.

  Fafnepto stood rigidly during all of this, remained that way until Lanefenuu could control her seething anger. Before she could speak the Eistaa signed for a water-fruit, drained it and hurled it aside. Only then did she turn one eye towards her visitor—the other still fixed firmly on the exit from the ambesed.

  “I greet you Fafnepto,” she finally said, “and welcome you here in the name of Saagakel, Eistaa of Yebeisk. What mission from her brings you across the ocean to my city?”

  “A matter of grave concern, of theft and treachery, and those who speak of life but are part of death.”

  Lanefenuu signed for courteous temporary silence. These were grave matters and not fit for every fargi to hear or even know about. Her thumb twitched in Muruspe’s direction; when her efenselè stepped forward she issued quick commands.

  “All but those highest dismissed,” Muruspe ordered with sharp movements of urgency. “This ambesed to be empty.” Only after the last frightened fargi had stumbled through the exit did Lanefenuu speak again.

  “Are those you speak of, are they called Daughters of Life?”

  “They are.”

  “Tell me of the matter then. But know also that there are none here, nor will any ever be permitted in my city.”

  “Nor will they ever be permitted to return to Yebeisk. They were there and they fled, and that is what I must speak to you of and ask your assistance.”

  Lanefenuu listened stolidly, still moved by hatred at Vaintè’s presence, fascinated and shocked as well by what she wa
s hearing. When Fafnepto had finished there was a horrified buzz of comment from all those who had listened to her, which died instantly as Lanefenuu signed for silence.

  “What you tell me is terrible indeed. Doubly terrible to me for I commanded/still-command an uruketo and the loss of one of those great creatures is a loss of part of one’s life. I will do what I can to aid you. What is it that your eistaa wishes of me?”

  “Information, simply. Has any in this city knowledge of this uruketo? Is it possible that any of your commanders of your uruketo may have seen it? We have searched but have found no trace of it.”

  “I have no knowledge of it, but enquiries shall be made. Muruspe, send for all of my commanders. Send also for Ukhereb who may have seen an image of this missing uruketo among all of the images her birds bring to her. While this is being done come, sit here Fafnepto, and tell me of matters in Entoban* and how the cities fare there, for yours is the first uruketo to call here in a very long time.”

  Akotolp stepped forward and signed matters of importance/requesting speech. Lanefenuu signed her closer.

  “This is Akotolp, a Yilanè of science who is wise in many ways. You have information for us?”

  “Negative for the moment. I have aided in the preparation of the images. The only uruketo images that appear are of uruketo of this city. This was my belief until now. I will go myself for those images, have them brought here at once so you may examine them for consideration of identity.”

  Lanefenuu signed enthusiastic agreement. “I will look at these images and decide, for to me every uruketo has features as familiar as one of my own efenselè.”