Harry Harrison: Return to Eden

“The ninth principle of Ugunenapsa. The first Eight Principles exist. They would not exist were it not for great Ambalasei.”

Ambalasei recognized this for what it was, the greatest expression of gratitude that the Daughters of Life were capable of. First for them always, came Ugunenapsa’s words. And now, forever linked with their existence, would be the name of Ambalasei. These argumentative creatures were actually capable of gratitude! For possibly the first time in her long life she could not think of an insulting remark. Could only sign the simplest gesture of acceptance and expression of her own gratitude.

Enge saw this, knew the old scientist far better than Ambalasei would have believed possible. Understood her reactions and appreciated her response. She turned and spoke to the gathering.

“Ambalasei has thanked you all. It is time to leave her in peace. Although she departs today — we now know that she will never leave us. Ambalasei and Ugunenapsa, forever joined.”

They filed out in silence until only Enge remained. “May I walk with you to the uruketo? We have walked together many times, and I have learned much from you wise Ambalasei. Shall we go?”

Ambalasei struggled to rise, felt Enge’s strong thumbs helping her, stood and walked slowly from the ambesed with her at her side. They went through the city in silence, until Ambalasei signed that she wished to rest in the shade for the sun was very hot. When they stopped to cool Enge signed request for information.

“Never refused, Enge, you know that. Without my continuing aid, yours and the entire Yilanè world, would be a poorer place.”

“That is true. Which is the reason for my question. I am concerned. You speak always of your disbelief in Ugunenapsa and I find that both disconcerting and difficult to comprehend. You analyze our problems with great precision and aid us in understanding them better. But what of you yourself? What is your personal understanding? I hope that you will tell me. Is it your belief that Ugunenapsa’s Nine Principles are correct?”

“No. Except for the ninth that is.”

“Then — if you doubt that which is most important to us, why do you aid us?”

“A question I never thought you would ask. Are you asking it now because you have finally realized that I do not hold to your beliefs, never will?”

“Ambalasei is all-seeing, all-knowing. That is indeed the reason that I ask.”

“The answer is a simple and obvious one — from my point of view. Like all Yilanè of science I care how life functions, relates, continues, changes, dies. This is the Yilanè way, has been, is now, will be. I am satisfied with it. But I am not closed-minded like all of the others. I wanted to study your group, and your Ugunenapsa, because she is the first thinker to ask a different question. Not how things work — but why? Most intriguing. Asking why has aided me in my own research and speculation, and I am grateful to you for that. If not for all the physical difficulties it entailed. When Ugunenapsa asked why for the first time something new came into our world. Asking why produced her principles, these in turn produced the Daughters of Life — who produced endless trouble by refusing to die in a normal Yilanè manner. It also produced an entirely new attitude to Yilanè ways. If the fact should be known, and I think it must be, I care nothing at all for Ugunenapsa or her theories. What I have really been interested in is studying you.”

Enge was shaken, signed incomprehension, desire for explanation.

“I shall of course furnish that. Consider our ways, consider the Yilanè relationship, one to the other. The eistaa rules and all below obey. Or die. Fargi emerge from the ocean and are completely ignored. They are supplied with food, only because if they died that would be the end of all Yilanè, but given nothing else. If they persist, and have the will and the drive to learn, they become yilanè and may form part of the life of the city. Most don’t. They wander off and, I presume, die. It must be said therefore, that all we Yilanè have offered one another is rejection and death. You however, Enge, offer compassion and hope. This is a very unusual and new thing.”

“Hope signifies possibility of better tomorrow. I do not understand the other term.”

“Nor could you be expected to since it is of my own construction, to describe a new concept. I mean an understanding of the unhappiness of others, linked with a desire to alleviate their miseries. This is why I have aided you. So stay here, stay safe in your city and study the why of life. I doubt if we shall speak again once I leave.”

It was too abrupt, the parting had come too swiftly. And Ambalasei, with her usual stark frankness, had pointed out that they would undoubtedly never meet again. Enge’s body moved as she searched for words and movements to express how she felt, could find nothing that was satisfactory.

Then they had reached the water’s edge and Enge could still find nothing to say to express the depth of her feelings. In the end she simply touched Ambalasei’s thumbs, as she would those of one of her efensele and stepped away. Without a backward glance Ambalasei took Setessei’s waiting hand and was helped onto the uruketo. Elem looked down from the top of the fin, ready to issue the orders to leave, when the crewmember beside her signed for attention, pointed out into the river. She turned in the indicated direction, looked with rigid concentration.

“Urgency of listening,” she called down to those below. “There is something distant in the river. Strong possibility of identification suggests — it is an uruketo.”

“Impossibility,” Ambalasei said, trying to peer into the distance. “Setessei, with eyesight of raptor, what do you see?”

Setessei climbed partway up the fin, did not speak until she was sure.

“It is as Elem has said. An uruketo coming in this direction.”

“Impossibility of accidental discovery. If thin Ukhereb or fat Akotolp is aboard it signifies close attention to my notes. Undoubtedly a research voyage of their own. I still leave.”

“Yilanè of science are always welcome,” Enge said, looking out at the approaching uruketo. “We will learn from them — and they can possibly learn from us.”

Ambalasei did not have Enge’s placid acceptance of life. It had been her experience that most surprises turned out to be unwelcome ones. Despite this knowledge her curiosity won and she did not sign Elem to leave, but looked instead at the approaching creature with dark suspicion. There were Yilanè now visible on top of the uruketo’s fin; identities still unknown. There was too great an element of chance to life. If she had left yesterday she would not have been present when this uruketo arrived. There was no point in even considering that now. Like the true scientist she waited stolidly for new evidence before she decided if the newcomer was welcome. Or not.

Setessei spoke and decided that. “One on the fin is a hunter of your acquaintence from Yebèisk, the one known as Fafnepto.”

“Unwelcome,” Ambalasei said firmly. “Yesterday would have been a far better day to depart. We can expect nothing of benefit to arrive from Yebèisk. Do you know the others?”

“An uruketo commander, also from Yebèisk. The third is unfamiliar.”

“Known to me,” Enge said, with such dread and hatred in her speaking that Ambalasei was shocked, had never heard Enge like this before. “One known as Vaintè, once my efensele, now rejected and despised. She was wise and led. Now death is her only follower.”

Silence gripped them as they watched the dark form of the uruketo loom up and approach the dock, sending small waves slapping against the wood. Ambalasei considered boarding her own uruketo and leaving, realized it was too late when Fafnepto raised up a hèsotsan where it could be seen. There was no ignoring this message. This uruketo had brought a most unwelcome cargo.