Her mind slipped into the familiar track: There was no escape from the ship. None at all. The Oankali controlled the ship with their own body chemistry. There were no controls that could be memorized or subverted. Even the shuttles that traveled between Earth and the ship were like extensions of Oankali bodies.
No human could do anything aboard the ship except make trouble and be put back into suspended animation-or be killed. Therefore, the only hope was Earth. Once they were on Earth-somewhere in the Amazon basin, she had been told-they would at least have a chance.
That meant they must control themselves, learn all she could teach them, all the Oankali could teach them, then use what they had learned to escape and keep themselves alive.
What if she could make them understand that? And what if it turned out that that was exactly what the Oankali wanted her to do? Of course, they knew it was what she would do. They knew her. Did that mean they were plan. fling their own betrayal: No trip to Earth. No chance to run. Then why had they made her spend a year being taught to live in a tropical forest? Perhaps the Oankali were simply very certain of their ability to keep humans corralled even on Earth.
What could she do? What could she tell the humans but 'Learn and run!' What other possibility for escape was there?
None at all. Her only other personal possibility was to refuse to Awaken anyone-hold out until the Oankali gave up on her and went looking for a more cooperative subject. Another Paul Titus, perhaps-someone who had truly given up on humanity and cast his lot with the Oankali. A man like that could make Titus' predictions self-fulfilling. He could undermine what little civilization might be left in the minds of those he Awoke. He could make them a gang. Or a herd.
What would she make them?
She lay on her bed platform, staring at a picture of a man. Five-seven, his statistics said. One hundred and forty pounds, thirty-two years old, missing the third, fourth, and fifth fingers of his left hand. He had lost the fingers in a childhood accident with a lawnmower, and he was self-conscious about the incomplete hand. His name was Victor Dominic-Vidor Domonkos, really. His parents had come to the United States from Hungary just -before he was born. He had been a lawyer. The Oankali suspected he had been a good one. They had found him intelligent, talkative, understandably suspicious of unseen questioners, and very creative at lying to them. He had probed constantly for their identity, but was, like Lilith, one of the few native Englishspeakers who had never expressed the suspicion that they might be extraterrestrials.
He had been married three times already, but had fathered no children due to a biological problem the Oankali believed they had corrected. Not fathering children had bothered him intensely, and he had blamed his wives, all the while refusing to see a doctor himself.
Apart from this, the Oankali had found him reasonable and formidable. He had never broken down in his unexplained solitary confinement, had never wept or attempted suicide. He had, however, promised to kill his captors if he ever got the chance. He had said this only once, calmly, more as though he were making a casual remark than as though he were seriously threatening murder.
Yet his Oankali interrogator had been disturbed by the words, and bad put Victor Dominic back to sleep at once.
Lilith liked the man. He had brains and, except for the foolishness with his wives, self-control--exactly what she needed. But she also feared him.
What if he decided she was one of his captors? She was bigger, and now certainly stronger than he was, but that did not have to matter. He would have too many chances to attack when she was off guard.
Better to Awaken him later when she had allies. She put his dossier to one side on the smaller of two piles- people she definitely wanted, but did not dare to Awaken first. She sighed and picked up a new dossier.
Leah Bede. Quiet, religious, slow-slow-moving, not slow-witted, though the Oankali had not been particularly impressed by her intelligence. It was her patience and self-sufficiency that had impressed them. They had not been able to make her obey. She had outwaited them in stolid silence. Outwaited Oankali! She had starved herself almost to death when they stopped feeding her to coerce her cooperation. Finally, they had drugged her, gotten the information they wanted, and, after a period of letting her regain weight and strength, they had put her back to sleep.
Why, Lilith wondered. Why hadn't the Oankali not simply drugged her as soon as they realized she was stubborn? Why had they not drugged Lilith herself? Perhaps because they wanted to see how far human beings had to be pushed before they broke. Perhaps they even wanted to see how each individual broke. Or perhaps the Oankali version of stubbornness was so extreme from a human point of view that very few humans tried their patience. Lilith had not. Leah had.
The photo of Leah was of a pale, lean, tired-looking woman, though an ooloi had noted that she had a physiological tendency to be heavy.
Lilith hesitated, then put Leah's folder atop Victor's. Leah, too, sounded like a good potential ally, but not a good one to Awaken first. She sounded as though she could be an intensely loyal friend-unless she got the idea Lilith was one of her captors.
Anyone Lilith Awakened might get that idea-almost certainly would get it the moment Lilith opened a wall or caused new walls to grow, thus proving she had abilities they did not. The Oankali had given her information, increased physical strength, enhanced memory, and an ability to control the walls and the suspended animation plants. These were her tools. And every one of them would make her seem less human.
'What else shall we give you?' Ahajas had asked her when Lilith saw her last. Ahajas had worried about her, found her too small to be impressive. She had discovered that humans were impressed by size. The fact that Lilith was taller and heavier than most women seemed not enough. She was not taller and heavier than most men. But there was nothing to be done about it.
'Nothing you could give me would be enough,' Lilith had answered.
Dichaan had heard this and come over to take Lilith's hands. 'You want to live,' he told her. 'You won't squander your life.'
They were squandering her life.
She picked up the next folder and opened it.
Joseph Li-Chin Shing. A widower whose wife had died before the war. The Oankali had found him quietly grateful for that. After his own period of stubborn silences he had discovered that he didn't mind talking to them. He
