“I do not know what causes the weather here, but in the country of my people—” She paused.
Hail fell with the rain. The hailstones bounced and rolled. A few ended under the awning. They were the size of gumballs.
“Everything comes from the Mother of Mothers,” Nia said. “All the spirits are her children, and she has mated with a lot of them. This kind of behavior would be absolutely wrong, if people did it. If a man encounters his mother in the time for mating, they ride away from each other as fast as possible. But spirits are different. And who else did she have to mate with, the Great One? Every spirit came out of her body.” Nia wiped the fur on her forehead, getting rid of some of the water.
“She mated with the Spirit of the Sky. They had four children in one birth. All were daughters. Each was a different color. When they grew up, they moved away from their mother and became the four directions. The pale yellow daughter settled in the east. The dark orange daughter settled in the west. The black daughter became the north. The last daughter was blue-green like her father. She became the south.”
“This is a story I’ve never heard,” Ulzai said.
The oracle made the gesture of agreement.
The hail piled up, turning the ground white. Nia went on.
“The Spirit of the Sky visited each daughter in turn, and each of the women gave birth to a son. They were the four winds. They grew up to be fierce and quarrelsome. They all laid claim to the land between the four directions. None would back down. They fought for the land, never ceasing, and life became impossible for everyone. Even the demons began to complain. They lived underground, but they liked to come out from time to time and cause trouble. How could they do it now? They had no idea what they’d find. A flood to put out their fires. A deep snow in the middle of summer. Hail like this or a heavy rain.
“At last the Mother of Mothers took a hand. She called the four cousins. They came and stood around her. That must have been a sight! Each one was a different color, and each one was as tall as a thundercloud. The wind from the east was yellow like his mother. The wind from the west was orange-red like fire. The wind from the south was the color of the sky, and the wind from the north was iron-black.
“They towered over their grandmother and glared at one another.
“ ‘You naughty boys,’ she said. ‘Why can’t you stop fighting?’
“The north wind answered her. His voice was deep and rumbling. The breath that came from his mouth was cold. ‘We are all big men. Not one of us is willing to back down. How can we let another man have the land in the middle? Each one of us wants the women. Each one of us wants the animals.’
“ ‘Look around!’ said the Mother of Mothers. ‘You have destroyed everything that you have laid claim to. Your floods have washed away the villages. Your sudden frosts have killed the vegetation. The animals have fled. The demons are talking about leaving. What is left that is worth fighting over?’
“The four cousins looked around. Their grandmother was telling the truth. The plain was brown and black. Nothing lived there. No people. No animals. No vegetation.
“ ‘And let me tell you something else,’ said the old woman, the Great One. ‘While you have been fighting here, other spirits have been visiting your mothers. Now you have sisters that are almost grown.’
“ ‘Is that so? Then I will go home,’ said the wind from the south. His breath was hot and dry. It smelled like the plain in the middle of summer. Aiya! What an aroma! How sweet and pleasant!
“ ‘No,’ said the Mother of Mothers. ‘I will not let you mate with your sisters.’
“ ‘Why not?’ asked the wind from the east.
“ ‘There has been too much of that kind of thing. If it continues, soon the children who are born will look like monsters or demons.’
“ ‘But what are we going to do?’ asked the wind from the west. ‘You don’t expect us to live without sex.’
“ ‘No,’ said the Mother of Mothers. ‘In the time of mating, each of you will leave your home territory and go to another direction—north to south and west to east—until you meet your cousins or other women or even female demons. Mate with them! But remember this! I speak for the land in the middle. It does not belong to any of you. When you cross it, travel carefully. Treat everything with respect. Make no trouble. Cause no harm.’
“The four cousins frowned and glared.
“ ‘What if we do not agree to this?’ asked the northern wind.
“ ‘Then I will deal with you, and don’t think I can’t.’ All at once the old woman increased in size. She rose until her head almost touched the sky. The sun shone over her left shoulder.
“The four cousins looked up. Their mouths hung open. They shaded their eyes. They saw their father, the Spirit of the Sky. He floated above the old woman. The sun was the buckle on his belt. His wings spread from horizon to horizon. He looked down at them. His face was blue-green. His eyes glared angrily.
“They were afraid. ‘All right,’ they said. ‘We will do as you suggest.’
“ ‘Good,’ said the Spirit of the Sky.
“That is the end of the story,” said Nia. “The four winds stopped fighting. The weather became less violent. The people who had left came back to the land in the middle. So did the animals.
“But in the spring, at the time of mating, the four cousins travel across the land looking for women, and that is why the weather is bad in the spring.”
She paused. I looked at the clearing. The hail had stopped. Rain still fell heavily.
“It is not spring now,” said Ulzai. “Your story does not explain this weather.”
“The cousins are restless and unruly,” said Nia. “They prowl around the edges of the land in the middle. They try to be careful, but sometimes they meet one another. Then they shout and gesture. Lightning flashes. There is thunder and hail. But they do not fight the way they used to. Instead they back down and move apart. No real damage is done.”
Ulzai made the barking sound. “I have seen black clouds that rose up to the sky. They leaped on the plain like dancers dressed in black tunics. I have seen two and three and four—all at the same time, one in each direction, dancing at the horizon. I think those clouds are able to do harm. And what about the hail that beats the vegetation flat? The winds that tear up trees? The storms of ice? Even the heat of summer can do damage. I have been out in the open and felt the heat like a blow to the head and a blow to the stomach. Those men have not kept their promise. They are still fighting, and this land is still a bad place for people.”
Nia looked angry.
“Why are you here?” asked the oracle.
“The rain is getting lighter,” Ulzai said. “And I am getting edgy. You may be used to being with other people. I am not.” He stood and moved out from under the awning. “Stay here! I’ll come back.” He walked into the forest. His limp seemed worse than before. The weather, most likely.
“He has been in some kind of trouble,” said the oracle. “And so has the woman. Why else would they have left their home?”
“People leave for no other reason?” Derek asked.
“Don’t act as if you are stupid,” Nia said. “You know there are travelers who carry gifts from one village to another. And men who like to wander. And women like Inahooli, who leave home for religious reasons. But the oracle is right. Those two people have done something wrong. I can tell. The rain is stopping.”
She got up and went out into the clearing, stopped and looked at the sky. “It will clear. Hu! I am wet.” She ran her hand down her arm, trying to squeeze the water out of her fur.
Most of the time the natives reminded me of bears, but there was something catlike about Nia at the moment. She grimaced and rubbed her other arm. “Aiya!” She pulled off her tunic and wrung it out, standing naked in the clearing. “I’m not going to stay in this place. It’s too wet. Let the man find me, if he thinks it is important.” She walked off, carrying her tunic.
Ulzai had hea
ded inland. Nia went back toward the shore.
“Off in all directions, like the four spirits,” Derek said.
The oracle opened the bag that Tanajin had given us. “I am going nowhere.” He took out a piece of yellow fruit about the size of a z-gee ball. I was pretty certain it was a fruit. He bit in. Juice squirted. The oracle wiped his chin and licked his fingers, chewing all the while.
Derek got out his radio. “Nia is right. There ought to be a wind by the river and sunlight, if the clouds clear. I think I’ll have a talk with Eddie. And when I’m done with that, I’ll think about fishing.”
He left. The oracle kept eating. A ray of sunlight touched the pool. It gleamed.
“It will get hot again,” said the oracle.
I made the gesture of agreement. The air was humid. Clouds of tiny bugs appeared. In the sunlight over the pond they shone like motes of dust. In the forest shadow they were invisible. But I felt them hitting my face. I snorted and waved.
The oracle said, “Go. I can see you are getting angry. If the man comes back and wants to know where everyone is, I will tell him.”
“Okay.” I walked toward the river, moving slowly and looking around. The trees were tall, their trunks straight and narrow, their bark gray. The foliage, high above me, was blue. Here and there a few leaves shone, touched by sunlight, like pieces of blue glass in a window.
There must have been more than one path. The one I followed led me to a place I did not remember. A few dead trees stood among stands of a plant without leaves. Knobby green stalks moved stiffly in the wind.
I could go back and try to find the path I should have taken, but how would I recognize it? I looked down. My shadow pointed along the path. I was heading east. We had landed on the eastern shore of the island. Better to go forward.
The path grew mucky. The plants grew tall: a meter and a half, two meters. Water gleamed amid the vegetation. I was in a mire. It was time to give up. I turned.
There was a lizard on the path ten meters away. Not a really big one. I estimated it to be two meters long, tail and all. The animal lifted its head, turned it, and regarded me with a bright black eye.
Oh, hell.
The mouth opened. I saw ragged teeth. A tongue came out, thick and black.
I kept still.
The animal’s skin was brown with only a few wrinkles, and the spines along the back were in good condition. This fellow was comparatively young. He hadn’t suffered from time and violence. Was he dangerous?
The mouth opened wider. The tongue extended farther. What was it doing? Tasting the air? Tasting my aroma? Finding out if I were edible?
I didn’t want to go toward the animal. I didn’t want to turn my back on it, either. There was marsh on either side of me. I began to sweat.
The long body whipped around. A moment later the animal was gone—off the path and out of sight among the reeds.
I let out my breath. Ulzai came into view, limping down the muddy trail, a spear in one hand. “I told you people to stay put. I got back, and no one was there except the little man. I went to find you. What did I discover? Your trail going off in the wrong direction! Are you crazy? Or merely a fool?”
“A fool,” I said.
He barked. “It is good that you know what you are. Many people do not. This path leads into a marsh. There are lizards.”
“I know. I saw one just before you came. On the path where you are standing.”
He looked down at the mud in front of him. “I see. It wasn’t big. An animal that size will not attack a full-grown person. You were in no danger. Come on.”
By the time we reached the river, the western half of the sky was clear. The sun shone brilliantly. Nia had spread her tunic on the canoe. She lay on the sand on her back, one arm over her eyes. Derek sat close by. “I’ve been watching the river. There are big fish out there. I think I’ll make a fishing pole.”
“A what?” asked Ulzai.
The word that Derek had used meant—in common usage—a tent pole or the pole of a standard.
“What do you think I said?” asked Derek.
“That you wanted to make a tent for fishes. Or else—” Ulzai frowned. “That you wanted to set up a standard with a fish on top. Is that the animal of your lineage?”
“My animal lives in salt water,” Derek said. “It looks like a fish, but it isn’t one. The name for it is ‘whale.’ ”
Ulzai grunted.
“What I meant to say is—I want to go fishing. I use a pole.”
Nia said, “He does. I have seen him.”
Ulzai looked interested. “In the marshes the women use nets to catch fish. The men use spears. And when I came up the river, I met people who use baskets and walls made of woven branches. The walls guide the fish into a trap. The baskets are the trap. But I have never heard of anyone using a tent pole.”
Derek got up. “I need a branch. It has to be long and straight and flexible. Can you find me anything like that?”
Ulzai made the gesture of affirmation.
“Take care of the radio, will you?” Derek said.
“Yes. What did Eddie say?”
“The plane is coming down the day after tomorrow. Eddie expects us to be at the lake in three days. He’s been able to stall the big discussion till then. He wants us to participate—not in the flesh, of course. We’ll be in quarantine. But we can address the multitudes via holovision. He assumes that we are going to back him. We are going to have to make a choice, Lixia. Which side are we on?”
I made the gesture of uncertainty.
“You talk too much,” Ulzai said. “And too many of the words you use are strange. Come on.”
“Ulzai certainly likes to tell people what to do,” said Nia. She yawned. “Aiya! It is comfortable in the sun. I think I will sleep.”
I looked at the river. Nia began to snore. The clouds kept moving east until most of the sky was clear.
The two men came back. Derek had his branch and a coil of fishing line.
“How is the oracle?” I asked.
“Tired. His arm hurts. He’s eaten all the fruit.”
“Hu!”
“Uh-huh.” Derek tied the line to the pole, then tied on a hook. He bit off the extra piece of poly and spat it out, then bent and picked it up. “We can’t leave souvenirs of a higher culture.” He stuck the poly into a pocket of his shirt and reached into the other pocket, pulling out a grub. It was fat and yellow. He slid the hook into the animal. It wriggled. I looked away.
Ulzai, I noticed, watched everything with interest. Nia continued to snore.
Derek reached into his pocket again and pulled out a lead weight, which he pressed into place on the line. “Fortunately, this is a metal-rich planet. If I lose the weight, it isn’t likely to influence the course of history. But I’d better not lose the line. The Unity knows what would happen if these savages discovered polypropylene.”
Ulzai frowned. “I can understand only half of what you are saying.”
“They always talk like this,” said Nia. She sat up. Her fur was dry. It shone copper-red-brown. “It makes me angry. I have told them. They keep on the same way as before.”
“I’m going down the beach,” said Derek. “There’s an eddy that looks interesting close to shore. In reach of this damn rig, I think. I wish I’d brought a folding rod with me, and a good spinning reel. I could have figured out a way to smuggle them down.” He looked at Ulzai. “I may have to wade in the water. Is that going to be dangerous?”
“No. The lizards do not come to this side of the island. Not often, anyway. They like slow water. The river bottom goes down steeply here and the current is swift. Be careful. If you catch anything with your tent pole, bury the guts on land. Never put anything bloody in the water. The lizards will taste the blood and come.”
“Okay,” said Derek.
“What about my lizard?” I asked. “The one I saw? It was on this side of the island.”
“It was on land,” said Ulzai. “When i
t goes back into the water, it will find a place where the bottom is shallow and the current barely moves. I know these animals. They do not have the courage of the umazi.”
Derek left us, going along the shore. He stopped and looked at the river, his head tilted, considering something not visible to me—the eddy, and waded into the water, swinging the long pole out. The line dropped in. He lifted the pole a little, then stood motionless. The rest of us watched him. Nothing happened.
“He knows how to keep still,” Ulzai said at last. “All good hunters do.”
Nia made the gesture of agreement, got up, and put on her tunic, the one that had belonged to Inahooli. It was wrinkled and there were stains on it. We were all looking pretty ratty.
“Atcha,” said Ulzai.
The pole was bending. Derek had changed his grip. He was holding on tightly now. The pole bent more. He waded out a little farther.
“Be careful,” called Ulzai.
The fish was going down.
No! It came out of the water in front of Derek: a long, dark body that twisted in midair and fell back into the river. Splat! The pole bent again.
“A good-sized fish,” said Ulzai. “But it isn’t worth catching. That kind is full of bones. And the flavor.” He made the gesture that meant “it could be worse.”
Derek lifted the pole. The fish must be rising. Yes! It jumped again, flashing in the sunlight, and fell. Derek lowered the pole. The fish ran toward the center of the river. The line gleamed, visible for a moment. I saw the tension in it. Derek turned, bringing the fish around in a circle, guiding it back toward shore.
“This is interesting,” said Ulzai. “But I don’t think it’s a good way to catch fish. It takes a lot of time. That much is obvious. And the fish might get away—even now, after all the effort he has put into catching it.”
I said, “Um.”
The fish was in the shallows. Derek grinned. A moment later he said, “Goddammit.”
The line was invisible at the moment. So was the fish. But I could see a zigzag pattern of ripples on the surface of the water, made by the line as it entered the water. The pattern led away from the shore. The fish had turned again.
A Woman of the Iron People Page 30