Amy Thomson: Through Alien Eyes

Ukatonen nodded. “I’ll try.” Even to his own ears he sounded dubious.

Toivo smiled. “It isn’t easy,” he said. “But you’ve got a choice. You can sit here in a dark room and think about your injury, or you can get on with your life. I suggest getting on with your life. You know, it could be much worse. You can walk and talk and even link, even if your -kill isn’t what it once was.”

“You don’t understand,” Ukatonen protested. “I’ve lost skill that took me centuries to learn. My presence was one of the strongest among the enkar. It made me a powerful healer. It helped me resolve differences. Now,” he said, a cloud of grey misting his skin, “I’m a cripple. At home my weakness would bring dishonor on all the enkar. I would be expected to die.”

Toivo clasped Ukatonen’s slender, long-fingered hands in his big, square, work-roughened ones, and met the enkar’s gaze. “But you’re not on Tiangi, en. You’re here in human space. You’re doing things none of your people have ever done before. Maybe this is one more thing that you’re learning to do differently. Maybe this is a lesson you can take home to your people. You won’t know unless you live long enough to find out.”

“I suppose,” Ukatonen ventured, “I’ll have to try. I must live to get back to Tiangi. I need to teach my people what I have learned.” Then I can die, tie thought to himself, but he did not say it aloud.

Toivo held out his hand. “One day at a time, Ukatonen. Let’s get started on living through today.”

Moki watched Ukatonen struggle with the gap left behind by his injury. He ached to help him, but Ukatonen shrugged off any attempts to reach him through allu-a, though he continued to work with Moki on making his arm grow back. When they returned to Berry Station, Eerin’s family did their best to comfort Ukatonen, but that only made him withdraw further into the shell of his dignity and reserve. At least he had reached out to Eerin’s brother. Ukatonen would spend hours working beside Toivo, saying nothing, apparently completely absorbed in the task at hand. He came in at the end of the day completely exhausted, but relaxed, his skin a slight bluish green. It was not quite contentment, not quite relief, but it was clear that the hard physical labor had brought the grieving enkar some kind of peace.

There were times when Moki was sure the enkar was going to give up, that they were going to walk into his room one morning and find him dead. But slowly, painfully, Ukatonen began to win against the darkness. At first there were a few moments when the enkar seemed to forget his [[jacn.]] and then an occasional hour of quiet contentment. “"-.en one evening, right after Eerin had put Mariam to [[-ec.]] Ukatonen, accompanied by Toivo, knocked on her ik-or and held out his arms for allu-a.

Moki sat up, ears spread wide in surprise, but Eerin laid i cautioning hand on his leg and said, “Of course, [[en. -"]]ease come in.”

Moki had never thought he would be relieved by Ukatonen’s injury, but after that link, he was. Ukatonen’s grief [[ red]] through them like a hurricane. He and Eerin waited il the storm passed, and then gently, carefully, enfolded [[:n.]] soothing away the rest of his grief and pain. Ukatonen opened himself to them like a flower. He had never really fully opened to them before, Moki realized. Before, Ukatonen had always screened a part of himself away. Now, feeling the intensity of loneliness behind the wall of the enkar’s reserve, Moki understood why. So much loneliness was a fearsome thing. To Moki, it seemed like it would engulf the world. He started to retreat, afraid that they would be caught in a downward spiral, but Eerin drew him back into the link, and they waited, giving what they could to heal Ukatonen’s broken spirit. At last Ukatonen regained a measure of control, and they achieved emotional equilibrium.

Gently, they slid out of the link. Moki was very hungry. Glancing at the window, he realized that the sky was greying toward dawn.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” he said, looking at the other two. There were dark patches under his sitik’s eyes, and Ukatonen was pale with exhaustion. Somehow on the way downstairs the trek to the kitchen turned into a mock hunting expedition. They crept quietly down the steps, peered carefully into the kitchen, and then attacked the refrigerator and pantry. They collapsed on the floor in a rippling, giggling heap, and then, weak with laughter, proceeded to stuff themselves on fruit, honey, bread, and meat.

They were just cleaning up, and getting breakfast set up for the early risers when Danan and Selena came in.

“Hey, Mom and I were in charge of breakfast this morning!” Danan protested.

“Well, we were up,” Eerin replied. “It’s been kind of a long night.” She glanced over at Ukatonen. “But it’s over now, and we were going to go upstairs and get some rest as soon as we were done here.”

“Well then, shoo!” Selena told them. “You’re done. Go get some sleep. You look like you need it.”

“Of course, Selena,” Eerin said meekly. They trooped up the stairs, passing several sleepy family members on their way down. It felt strange to be going to bed when the rest of the family was just getting up, but Moki fell asleep almost as soon as he had settled himself under the covers.

Ukatonen woke the next morning feeling somehow lighter and more free than he’d felt in several hundred years. He remembered that incredible, harrowing link and slid his nictitating membranes over his eyes and pushed the memory away. He must not allow that kind of pain even a remembered foothold in his mind.

From that day on, it got easier. There were still bad days, filled with the sour coldness of misery, or sour and tight with frustration, but they were only days, or hours, and he could get over them with a link, or sometimes even a joke. Gradually his reserve lifted, and he unfolded like a fragrant girra flower at sunset.

The response from others to this change was remarkable. People opened up to him in ways he never expected. Mariam began solemnly showing him flowers and rocks and bugs. Old Niccolo and his wife Rosa, sat and told him stories of the family and its history. Selena showed him sketches that she had made of the family, and surprisingly, a couple of him, sound asleep. He sat for her while she filled page after page of her sketchbook with drawings of him. She had a real gift for catching a characteristic pose. Suddenly the world was full of warmth and love. How had he missed it before?

He was in the kitchen, washing dishes, enjoying the feel of the warm water on his hands when Moki came bursting in.

“Ukatonen! They’re coming! They’re coming!”

“Who’s coming, Moki?” he asked.

“Anitonen and Naratonen!” he said. “They’re coming to Earth on the next supply boat back from Tiangi.”

Ukatonen squeezed out the sponge he was using, feeling his happiness ooze out like the water from the sponge. “When?” he asked in sound speech, not trusting his skin to hide the sudden, deep despair he was feeling.

“Eerin says it’ll be another six months at least,” Moki told him. “The announcement came from a supply ship that just made the jump from Tiangi.”

“What about greensickness?” Ukatonen asked. “How are they going to keep them from getting sick?”

“Eerin says that they’ve specially outfitted the ship to make the Tendu feel more comfortable.”

“Good,” Ukatonen said. “I’m glad their trip will be easier than ours.” He set the sponge down and wandered out of the kitchen, through the fields and up into the forest, where he sat looking out at the enclosed, cylindrical landscape of Berry Station. He was simultaneously anticipating and dreading the thought of seeing the other enkar. What would they think of him now, with his injury, and his lack of a decent enkarish reserve?