clambered about the city making careful records of the damage done by the storm. Hormone applications speeded the new growth until the roofing leaves spread their overlapping patterns anew, while additional tree trunks and aerial roots strengthened the walls. But simple rebuilding was not enough for Vanalpe. Sturdy vines, tough and elastic, now twined up through the walls and across the roofing.
Not only was the city stronger, but it was growing safer with every passing day as the cleared fields bit into the surrounding jungle. This expansion, although it looked haphazard, was silent and efficient, carefully planned. The most dangerous part, the spreading of the larvae in wild jungle, was done by the Daughters of Death. Though they were protected from most of the wild creatures by armed fargi, there was no protection from bruises and accidents, wounds from the thorns — or snakebite from the serpents hidden there. Many were injured, some radically, a few died. The city was as uncaring as Vainte at their fate. The city came first.
Once the larvae had been sown the death of the jungle was certain. The voracious caterpillars that emerged had been crafted for this single purpose. Birds and animals found their taste bitter and repellent; the caterpillars found all vegetable matter to their liking. Blind and insatiable they crawled up the tree trunks and through the grass, destroying everything in their path. Only the skeletons of trees remained after they had passed while the ground was foul with their droppings. As they ate they grew until the repulsive, bristle-covered creatures were as long as a Yilane arm.
And then they died, for death was there waiting in their genes, carefully planted to assure that these creatures did not devour the world. They died and rotted into the bed of their own excreta. The cunning design of Vanalpe and the other gene engineers was evident even here. Nematode worms were already turning the repulsive mass into fertilized soil, aided by the bacteria in their gut. Even before the beetles had devoured the dead trees, grass had been sown and the thorn barriers planted. A new field had been eaten from the jungle, pushing it further away from the city, forming yet another barrier to the dangers hidden there.
Yet there was nothing unnatural or harsh about this slow advance. The Yilane lived as one with their surroundings, were part of the environment and inextricably entwined with it: anything else would have been unthinkable. The fields themselves had no regularity of plan or design. Their shapes and sizes depended only upon the resistance of the foliage and the appetite of the caterpillars. The thornbushes formed a protecting barrier of varying thickness while many patches of the original jungle still remained to add variety to the landscape.
The grazing herds were just as varied. Each time the uruketo returned from Inegban* it brought fertilized eggs or newly born young. The more defenseless species were in the fields nearest the city center, the original fields where the urukub and onetsensast had grown to maturity. These armored — but placid — omnivores now grazed in mindless security at the jungle’s edge, twice the size of a mammoth and still growing, their great horns and armored hides rendering them immune to all dangers.
Vainte was pleased with the progress that had been made. When she went daily to the ambesed she went with the security that no problems would arise that she could not solve. But this morning she had a hint that all was not well when the fargi hurried up to her with a message, pushing others aside rudely to indicate the importance of the tidings she bore.
“Eistaa, the uruketo has returned. I was in a fishing boat, I saw it myself…”
Vainte silenced the stupid creature with a curt signal, then signaled to her aides. “We meet them at the pier. I want the news of Inegban*.”
She walked in stately silence down the path, her friends and aides behind her, a rabble of fargi bringing up the rear. Though it was never cold in Alpeasak, there was much rain and dampness at this time of year so that she, like many of the others, walked with a cloak draped about her both for warmth and protection from the drizzling rain.
Slow dredging by the clawed paddle-feet of eisekol had deepened the river and adjoining harbor. The uruketo’s cargo no longer had to be transhipped by boats, since the giant creature could now nestle up against the shore. It was just emerging from the rainswept ocean when Vainte and her entourage arrived at the docking place. The harbor leader was directing the fargi who were putting fresh fish onto the underwater ledge to feed the uruketo. The dimwitted creature took this offering, berthing itself in the correct position to be secured to the dock. Vainte watched the efficiency of the operation with satisfaction. A good city was an efficient city. Hers was a good city. Her eyes traveled along the immensity of the great black form, up to the fin where Erafnais stood directing the operation.
Next to the commander stood Malsas‹.
Vainte stood rigid at the sight because she had put the existence of the other Eistaa completely from her mind. But memory and realization gripped her now, sending a knife of pain through her sharper than any physical blade.
Malsas‹, Eistaa of Inegban*. For whom this city was being built. Who would bring her people here upon its completion and rule in Vainte’s place. Malsas‹, erect and alert with the look of certain authority in her eye. She was not ill nor was she old. She would be Eistaa of Alpeasak.
Vainte remained frozen, so her thoughts would not be revealed in her movements, as Malsas‹, her followers and assistants, emerged from the uruketo and came towards her. Vainte could only hope that formality might mask her true feelings.
“Welcome to Gendasi, Eistaa, welcome to Alpeasak,” Vainte said, pleasure at the Eistaa’s presence as well as gratitude emotionally coloring her words of welcome.
“It is my pleasure to be in Alpeasak,” Malsas‹ answered, just as formally. But the last syllable of pleasure required an opening of the mouth to reveal her teeth — and she did not close her mouth after this for long seconds. This slight indication of displeasure was warning enough for Vainte and would not be repeated. Vainte was respected for the work she was doing — but she could be quickly replaced. Vainte forced all thoughts of jealousy and treachery from her mind and lowered her eyes briefly in acceptance of the warning.
This brief exchange was so subtle that it went unnoticed by the other Yilane. Affairs at this level were not their concern. Malsas‹ moved the aides and fargi even further away with a motion of rejection before she spoke again, so their future conversation could not be overseen or overheard as they walked back to the city.
“Last winter was cold and this one is colder. This summer there were no youths or fargi from Soromset seeking admission to Inegban*. When the weather was warmest I sent a party of hunters to see how the city was. It was dead. Soromset does no longer exist. It died just as Ergetpe died. The leaves of the city are dead, carrion crows peck the bones of the Yilane who lived there. On the beaches and the warm waters of the landlocked Isegenet sea the Yilane lived in three great cities…”
She broke the thought off there and Vainte finished it for her.
“Ergetpe is dead of the cold. Soromset has followed her way. Only Inegban* remains.”
“Only Inegban* remains and each winter the cold draws closer. Our herds grow small and soon there will be hunger.”
“Alpeasak awaits.”
“Indeed it must — when the time comes. But now there is greater need to broaden the fields and increase the breeding of the animals. For our part we must breed more uruketo, but it is a slow labor that we were too late in starting. But there is hope now that the new strain will be successful. They are smaller than the creature I came in, but develop much faster. We must have enough of them to move the entire city in one summer. Now show me what they will find when they arrive in Alpeasak.”
“They will find this,” Vainte said, indicating the trunks and veined walls and latticed floors of the city that stretched away on all sides of them. The rain had stopped, the sun emerged and glinted from the raindrops on the foliage. Malsas‹ signaled approval. Vainte moved her arm in a circle.
“Beyond the city — the fields. Already filling with beasts of all kinds that please the eye and stomach.”
Vainte signaled armed guards to precede them as they passed through meadows of grazing animals towards the outermost fields. Through the high-arched wall of thick trunks and thorns they could see the giant forms of the urukub eating green leaves at the jungle’s edge, while even at this distance they could hear the rumbling of the large rocks in their second stomachs that ground up and aided in the digestion of the immense amounts of food they consumed. Malsas‹ admired the sight in silence for some time before turning away and beginning the return to the heart of the city.
“You have builded well, Vainte,” she said when their followers could hear them again. “You have all done well.”
Vainte’s gesture of thankful acceptance was filled with sincerity behind the ritual movements. The
