Harry Harrison: Return to Eden

“Ambalasei has not eaten this day,” Setessei said, restoring the snake to its basket and digging deeper into the container. “There is preserved eel here, still cool from the vats.”

Ambalasei stared grumpily into the distance but allowed one eye to, look down at the jellied flesh as her assistant unwrapped it. It was true, she had not eaten this day. She chewed slowly and let the juice trickle down her throat; reached for a second piece. “How does the city grow?” she asked, some of the modifiers muffled by her full mouth. From long experience Setessei understood the old scientist well enough.

“Fertilizer is needed for the inland water-fruit groves. Nothing more, all else grows well.”

“And the inhabitants of this city, do they also grow well?”

Setessei moved in a quick indication of ambiguity as she sealed the container and straightened up. “Pleasure in knowledge continual in the service of Ambalasei. To see a city grow, to discover this new species of Yilanè, is pleasure overriding labors. To live among the Daughters of Life is labor overriding pleasure.”

“Excellent observation: more eel. Then you are not tempted to join them in their heady philosophizing, to become a Daughter yourself?”

“I grow in strength and pleasure in your service; I need serve no other.”

“Yet if the eistaa were to order you to die — would you not die?”

“Which eistaa? We have dwelt in many cities. Your service is my city, therefore you are my eistaa.”

“If I am — then you live forever for I order no one’s death. Though with these Daughters… I am sorely tempted. Now, amplify earlier statement. Groves in need of fertilization, qualifier of incompleteness termination. The Daughters?”

“Ambalasei knows all, sees through solid stone. Twice aid has been requested, twice postponed.”

“Not a third time,” Ambalasei said with modifiers of destiny-certain. She struggled to a standing position and when she arched her body the bones in her spine crackled. “Slackness grows, work diminishes.”

They walked back along the trail through the grove, aware of hidden Sorogetso eyes upon them. A figure moved halfseen along the track ahead of them, and when they came to the floating tree it had already been pushed into position by Ichikchee. She lowered her eyes and turned away when Ambalasei raised a green-to-red palm to sign her appreciation.

“She shows gratitude,” Ambalasei said. “Labor given in return for service. They are simple creatures, yet complex in many ways. They will bear more study.

She led the way across the floating tree to the far bank, then pointed at the stream they had just crossed.

“Eel,” she ordered and held out her hand. “Have you wondered, Setessei, why we cross on this tree to their island instead of walking through these shallow waters?”

“I am without curiosity in these matters.”

“I am curious in all matters, therefore cognizant of everything. I have applied my great intelligence and have solved this minor mystery.”

She dropped the piece of meat into the stream and the waters roiled and seethed with movement.

“Tiny carnivorous fish in great numbers. A living barrier. This new continent abounds in wonders. I go to the ambesed for the afternoon warmth. Send Enge to me there.”

Setessei went ahead of her carrying the container, her head bobbing as she walked. Ambalasei saw that her crest was gray and ragged at the edge. So quickly? She remembered quite clearly the young fargi struggling to be Yilanè, listening and remembering, eventually to become an invaluable assistant. All those years of patient work while Ambalasei probed the secrets of the world. To end up here in this newgrown city with its fractious inhabitants. Perhaps it was time to leave; certainly it was time to make careful records of all that had been discovered. Yilanè of science, still unborn, would gasp in awe at the scope of knowledge revealed. Scientists alive this day might turn black in the face and die of envy. A pleasant thought.

The root of the sunwarmed tree was genial against Ambalasei’s back, the skin even warmer along the length of her rib cage. Her eyes were shut, her jaw opened wide in the heat that soaked into her aching muscles. The search for knowledge was endless and pleasurable, but very tiring. Her thoughts were broken by the sounds of attention to presence. She opened one eye, slitted it against the light.

“It is you, Enge.”

“It is spoken that you wished my presence.”

“I am displeased. Something must be done. Your Daughters of Drudgery drudge even less every day. You know of this?”

“I do. It is my fault. Caused by my inability to find the correct solution to our problem. I labor but despair at attaining the needed grasp of knowledge of Ugunenapsa’s principles. I know the answer to our difficulties is there before my eyes — but I do not have the vision to see it.”

“You confuse theory with reality. One of them exists, the other might.”

“Not for us, great Ambalasei, you of all people know that.” Enge’s eyes glowed with proselytizing fervor as she settled back comfortably on her tail; Ambalasei sighed. “The truth of Ugunenapsa’s words is proven. When an eistaa orders one of her Yilanè to die — she dies. We do not.”

“Easily explained. My researches on the subject are complete. You live because your hypothalamus is not triggered, nothing more.”

“Absence of knowledge, desire for instruction.”

“I just wish the rest of your Daughters of Dissipation were desirous of instruction as well. Listen then and remember. Just as we progress from egg to ocean, fargi to Yilanè, so has our species progressed from ancient to modern form. We know from our teeth that we were once eaters of shellfish for that is the function they are shaped for. Before we had cities, before we had assured food supplies and defenses against inclemencies of existence, hibernation played an important part in our survival.”

“Humility at even greater ignorance. This hibernation, did we eat it?”

Ambalasei clacked her jaws together angrily. “Closer attention to speaking. Hibernation is a torpid state of the body, between sleep and death, where all of the vital functions slow down greatly. It is a hormonal reaction caused by prolactin. This normally regulates our metabolism and sexual behavior. But too much prolactin overloads the hypothalamus and causes an unbalanced physiological state that ends in death. This is a survival factor.”

“Survival — that ends in death?”

“Yes. Death of an individual that aids survival of the group. Another form of the altruistic gene that appears so counterproductive for the individual, yet very positive for the species. If the eistaa rules, the social order survives. Errant individuals die when so ordered. Essentially they kill themselves. They believe that they will die — so they do. The terrified reaction to the imminence of death releases the prolactin. The individual dies. A self-fulfilling prediction.”

Enge was horrified. “Wise Ambalasei — are you saying that Ugunenapsa’s great work is nothing more than the ability to control a physiological reaction?”

“You said it — I didn’t,” Ambalasei responded with great satisfaction. Enge was silent a long time, rigid with deep thought. Then she stirred and made an approving-appreciation gesture.

“Your wisdom is infinite, Ambalasei. You state a physical truth that makes me doubt, forces me to consider the truths that I know, to find the answer that reinforces these truths. It is there, the answer, clearly stated and only waiting for interpretation. All of Ugunenapsa’s wisdom is stated in her Eight Principles.”

“Spare me! Must I be threatened with all of them?”