Butler, Octavia - Survivor

“Most of my people also live through the wanting,” said Diut. “Of those whom the Garkohn addict, many escape. If they can get back to the mountains, back to their families, back to where they have a reason to live, most live. The ones who die are usually those who have been tortured, or those who have been forced to do things they cannot live with.”

“I suspect that that may already have happened to most of my abducted people even without withdrawal,” said Jules.

“Do you mean that you think they’re dead?”

“Yes.”

Diut yellowed apologetically. “From what I have heard, Verrick, they are all alive. They have submitted.”

Jules glared at Diut, then shook his head. “You were saying…” He had to stop and start again. “You were saying that we could survive withdrawal if we were prepared for it. If we wanted… to live badly enough.”

“Most of you should survive.”

“Should.”

“Unless you want to stay within easy range of the Garkohn and have them come after you someday to kill you or bring you back, you have no choice. You must begin withdrawing your people. Let the strong try—the healthy adults—so that the weak can share what little meklah you find in the north.”

“No,” said Jules thoughtfully. “We have one other choice. Our doctor…” He stopped, realizing that he had used the English word, and groped for a Garkohn equivalent. “One who cures disease?”

“A healer,” supplied Diut in Garkohn.

“Yes. Perhaps he can find a way to make withdrawal easier, less dangerous.”

“There is no easier way. My healers have sought one for generations and failed to find it. You must begin withdrawing your people now.”

Jules looked hard at Diut. “Must begin?”

“The disturbance that will occupy the Garkohn and allow you to escape will come soon. You must be ready to leave.”

Jules was no more accustomed to being commanded than was Diut. Abruptly, he had had enough. “I won’t order my people to commit suicide, Tehkohn Hao. We don’t know enough about meklah withdrawal. Until we do, until our… healer has found a safe way for us to withdraw, we’ll remain as we are. And we’ll remain here. We won’t go north until I can see that we’ll have some chance of surviving there.”

Diut was silent for a moment. Then he spoke softly. “I thought we understood each other, Verrick.”

“So did I. But you don’t seem to realize what you’re asking me to do to my people. I’m willing to go north—eager to go as soon as it’s safe.”

“They are your people, Verrick.” Diut’s tone was deceptively gentle. Alanna spoke up urgently.

“Tehkohn Hao, his ways are different. He doesn’t realize…” She stopped at Diut’s yellow flash of annoyance. Diut went on speaking to Jules.

“You have the right to make decisions for them.”

Diut’s resignation and Alanna’s obvious alarm seemed to reach Jules. “And you think I have made a bad decision,” he said, “even though I made it to save my people’s lives.”

Diut leaned forward, his forearms on the table. “I have told you the only way to save their lives. I have spoken to you as I would speak to the leader of another Kohn tribe. But perhaps as your daughter says, your ways are different. You don’t understand. Listen then. I blame the Garkohn for the trouble between us. You have been lied to and used. But even so, I cannot afford to have your people remain here and be used again. And they would be used again, with your consent or without it. I admit that you and the Garkohn together are a formidable combination. But you must admit what a childishly vulnerable people your Missionaries are alone. Do you understand me now?”

Jules looked surprised. Clearly, he did understand. “I only wanted a little time,” he said.

“You will have some time. I cannot say how much. Do whatever you wish with it. Begin to withdraw your people at once, or wait and hope that if your healer does find his cure, there will still be Missionaries left alive to use it.”

Jules spoke low, as though to himself. “Am I to tell my people then that if, while they are writhing in agony, they can think in a positive enough manner, they might survive?” He shook his head. “We are doomed if you force this on us. Your people might save themselves the task of murdering us outright, Tehkohn Hao, but they will be killing us just the same.”

Diut rose, walked around the table to Jules. Jules, his expression uncertain, also stood up. They faced each other and Jules, who had never seemed small or slight to Alanna, seemed so now. Diut seemed to tower over him, dwarf him not only in size, but in sheer awesome presence. Alanna’s mind flickered back to an earlier time when she had fled from Diut, when she herself had called him animal and monster. Diut spoke softly.

“At this distance, Verrick, I could kill you very easily, so be still.”

Taken by surprise, Jules froze, stood staring at the tall native with fear and anger.

“You could not move quickly enough, or attack strongly enough to prevent me. I am certain death. Withdrawal from the meklah is possible life. Which would you choose?”

Jules relaxed, leaned against the table. In English, he said, “All right, you bastard, you’ve made your point.”

Diut did not react.

Jules switched languages. “Again, I understand you, Tehkohn Hao.” The sarcasm in his voice was too heavy to be missed.

“There is one more thing that must be said.” Diut spoke quietly, apparently neither taking, nor trying to give offense.

“You will find the words.”

“Natahk will ask you what was said between us. He may not ask gently. The choice of what you tell him is entirely your own. Nothing you say to him could stop my people from dealing with him. I was willing to leave the Garkohn to themselves to murder each other before this last raid, but I can no longer afford to do that. The only people you can hurt in speaking to Natahk are your own.”

Jules shrugged, deliberately turned his back, and sat down. “I understand.”

Diut did not speak for several seconds. Alanna could not tell whether he was angry or perversely admiring. His coloring remained a steady blue. He turned and spoke to her. “Your readdiction may serve some purpose now. Be the first to withdraw from the meklah. Show your people that it is possible.”

“That’s what I had planned to do.”

He looked at her for a moment longer, then turned and walked out of the door to his Garkohn and Missionary guards.

The next morning a shaken Missionary guard brought Jules word that Diut had escaped.

CHAPTER FIVE

Diut

I decided to push Alanna into a liaison with one of my judges. She had stayed with the artisans for a full season—long enough. It was time for her to be treated as the adult she was. I thought a judge would be best for her because the proportions of her body were much like those of a judge. She was tall and slender. Her bones were large, but because of her height, they did not seem so. She presented a false image of fragility. I would choose a judge for her. So.

But I chose no one. Other matters held my attention and I left Alanna with the artisans until she got into trouble. A hunter—a low hunter, but not as low as he should have been—chose to make her the victim of his frustration. Her season with the artisans probably helped him to believe that she was of no importance. Else why had she been left in subjection to others for so long? And her coloring gave her no protection. The hunter could not see her as blue enough to be dangerous to him or yellow enough to be a nonfighter whom he must not harm.

Thus, there was the foolish confrontation.

Alanna had been ordered to help the farmers down in our hidden valley. They were digging up the year’s first harvest, and at the same time, sowing the seeds of the second. Alanna was carrying a large basket of ohkahs when her trouble began. She was taking them to the storerooms. The hunter, also drafted temporarily into helping with the harvest, was in a foul mood and eager to humiliate another person since he felt himself humiliated by such “low” work. As Alanna walked past him, he thrust his digging prongs between her feet.