Butler, Octavia - Dawn

Characteristically, Tate laughed. "I used to be." She sobered. "Okay, yeah. We've pretty much worked out the best way of doing it-tomorrow morning and south and with someone who probably knows how to stay alive in this country better than anyone but the Oankali."

There was a silence.

"We really are on an island, you know," Lilith said.

"No, I don't know," Tate answered. "But I'm willing to take your word for it. We'll have to cross the river."

"And in spite of what we see on what seems to be the other side, I believe we'll find a wall over there."

"In spite of the sun, the moon and the stars? In spite of the rain and the trees that have obviously been here for hundreds of years?"

Lilith sighed. "Yes."

"All because the Oankali said so."

"And because of what I saw and felt before I Awoke you."

"What the Oankali let you see and made you feel. You wouldn't believe some of the stuff Kahguyaht has made me feel."

"Wouldn't I?"

"I mean, you can't trust what they do to your senses!"

"I knew Nikanj when it was too young to do anything to my senses without my being aware of it."

Tate looked away, stared toward the river where the glint of water could still be seen. The sun-artificial or real-had not quite vanished and the river looked browner than ever.

"Look," she said, "I don't mean anything by this, but I have to say it. You and Nikanj. . ." She let her voice die, abruptly looked at Lilith as though demanding a response. "Well?"

"Well, what?''

"You're closer to him-to it-than we are to Kahguyaht. You..."

Lilith stared at her silently.

"Hell, all I mean is, if you won't go with us, don't try to stop us."

"Has anyone tried to stop anyone from leaving?"

"Just don't say anything. That's all."

"Maybe you are stupid," Lilith said softly.

Tate looked away again and shrugged. "I promised Gabe I'd get you to promise."

"Why?"

"He thinks if you give your word, you'll keep it."

"Otherwise, I'll run and tell, right?"

"I'm beginning not to care what you do."

Lilith shrugged, turned and started back toward camp. It seemed to take Tate several seconds to see that she meant it. Then she ran after Lilith, pulled her back away from the camp.

"All right, I'm sorry you're insulted," Tate rasped. "Now are you going or aren't you?"

"You know the breadnut tree up the bank-the big one?"

"Yes?"

"If we're going, we'll meet you there after breakfast tomorrow."

"We won't wait long."

"Okay."

Lilith turned and walked back to camp. How many Oankali had heard the exchange? One? A few? All of them? No matter. Nikanj would know in minutes. So it would have time to send for Ahajas and Dichaan. It would not have to sit and go catatonic like the others.

In fact, she still wondered why the others had not done it. Surely they had known that their chosen humans were leaving. Kahguyaht would know. What would it do?

Something occurred to her suddenly-a memory of tribal people sending their sons out to live for a while alone in the forest or desert or whatever as a test of manhood.

Boys of a certain age who had been taught how to live in the environment were sent out to prove what they had learned.

Was that it? Train the humans in the basics, then let them go out on their own when they were ready?

Then why the catatonic ooloi?

"Lilith?"

She jumped, then stopped and let Joseph catch up with her. They walked together to the fire where people were sharing baked yams and Brazil nuts from a tree someone had stumbled upon.

"Did you talk to Tate?" he asked. She nodded.

"What did you tell her?" "That I'd talk to you." Silence.

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

"Go."

She stopped, turned to look at him, but his face told her nothing.

"Would you leave me?" she whispered.

"Why would you stay? To be with Nikanj?"

"Would you leave me?"

"Why would you stay?" The whispered words had the impact of a shout.

"Because this is a ship. Because there's nowhere to run."

He looked up at the bright half moon and at the first scattering of stars. "I've got to see for myself," he said softly. "This feels like home. Even though I've never been in a tropical forest before in my life, but this smells and tastes and looks like home."

" . . . I know." "I've got to see!" "Yes."

"Don't make me leave you."

She seized his hand as though it were an animal about to escape.

"Come with us!" he whispered.

She closed her eyes, shutting out the forest and the sky, the people talking quietly around the fire, the Oankali, several physically joined in silent conversation. How many of the Oankali had heard what she and Joseph were saying? None of them behaved as though they had heard.

"All right," she said softly. "I'll go."

4

Joseph and Lilith found no one waiting at the breadnut tree after breakfast the next morning. Lilith had seen Gabriel leave camp, carrying a large basket, his ax, and his machete as though intending to chop wood. People did that as they saw need just as Lilith took her own machete, ax, and baskets and went to gather forest foods when she saw need. She took people with her when she wanted to teach and went alone when she wanted to think.

This morning only Joseph was with her. Tate had left camp before breakfast. Lilith suspected that she might have gone to one of the gardens Lilith and Nikanj's family had planted. There she could dig cassava or yams or cut papayas, bananas, or pineapple. It would not help much. They would soon have to live on what they found in the forest.

Lilith carried roasted breadnuts both because she liked them and because they were a good source of protein. She also carried yams, beans, and cassava. At the bottom of her basket she carried extra clothing, a hammock of light, strong Oankali cloth, and a few sticks of dry tinder.

"We won't wait much longer," Joseph said. "They should be here. Maybe they've come and gone."

"More likely they'll be here as soon as they decide we weren't followed. They'll want to be sure 1 haven't sold them out, told the Oankali."

Joseph looked at her, frowned. "Tate and Gabe?"

"Yes."

"I don't think so."

She shrugged.

"Gabe said you should get out for your own good. He said he'd heard people beginning to talk against you again- now that they can think for themselves again."

"I'll be going toward the dangerous ones, Joe, not away from them. So will you."

He stared at the river for a while, then put his arm around her. "Do you want to go back?"

"Yes. But we won't."

He did not argue. She resented his silence, but accepted it. He wanted to go that badly. His feeling that he was on Earth was that strong.

Sometime later, Gabriel led Tate, Leah, Wray, and Allison to the breadnut tree. He stopped, stared at Lilith for a moment. She was certain he had heard all she had said.

"Let's go," she said.

They headed upriver by mutual consent since no one really wanted to head back toward camp. They stayed near the river to avoid getting lost. This meant occasionally hacking their way through undergrowth and aerial roots, but no one seemed to mind.

In the humidity, everyone perspired freely. Then it began to rain. Beyond walking more carefully in the mud, no one paid any attention. The mosquitoes bothered them less. Lilith slapped at a persistent one. There would be no Nikanj tonight to heal her insect bites, no gentle, multiple touches of sensory tentacles and sensory hands. Was she the only one who would miss them?

The rain ceased eventually. The group walked on until the sun was directly overhead. Then they sat on the wet trunk of a fallen tree, ignoring fungi and brushing away insects.

They ate breadnuts and the ripest of the bananas Tate had brought. They drank from the river, having long ago learned to ignore the sediment. It couldn't be seen in the handfuls of water that they drank, and it was harmless.