conclude that it must be the aggressor sex. Which in turn leads inescapably to the conclusion that…” She could not continue, but the movements of her limbs revealed the unavoidable conclusions. Enge spoke it aloud.
“The males here are dominant, the females at the most equal or possibly subservient.”
“How unacceptably loathsome! Not the natural order for Yilane. In the case of lower animals, yes, it is possible, for they are senseless brutes. But intelligence is female, thought is female, the source of life, the eggs — they are inescapably female. The males provide the crude biological functions of supplying half the needed genes and all of the reflexive-boring prenatal care. That is all they are good for, they have no other function. What you have observed is preposterous, unnatural — and utterly fascinating.”
Ambalasi had recovered her aplomb, was thinking now like a true scientist not a mindless fargi. Was it possible? Of course it was possible. The diversity of sexual roles, relationships, variations and inversions among the species in the world was almost infinite. So why not a variation in her own species? How far back would the breaking apart of the two have to have been? She would have to consider that. The fact of even crude communication indicated a relatively recent separation. Unless the forms of basic communication were fixed in the genes and not learned. It all became more and more interesting. Enough. Observation first, theorizing last. Facts were needed, facts and more facts.
That she had been the one to discover this…! She struggled to her feet.
“Imperative now! I must see, talk, record everything about the Sorogetso.”
Enge signed patience. “You will do that, for yours’ is the mind of science that will disclose all. But communication first. I must learn to speak with the Sorogetso, gain their confidence, then penetrate their culture. It will take time.”
Ambalasi leaned back with a tired sigh. “Of course it will. Proceed at once. Devote your time to nothing else. Take Setessei with you, I will relieve her of all other tasks. She is to record everything. Detailed records must be kept. My name shall roar like the bellow of a nenitesk down through the annals of time for making this discovery. Of course you will get some credit as well.”
“Your generosity is infinite,” Enge said respectfully, concealing most of her feelings; luckily Ambalasi was too involved in her own whirling thoughts to notice any negative connotations in the statement.
“Yes, of course, well-known fact. I must learn the language as well — Setessei will bring me the recordings daily. You will learn to speak with them, gain access to their community, give them food, hopefully they will have sickness and I can give them medical aid. In doing so I will make a study of their physiology. Doors of knowledge opening — facts accumulated, soon revealed!” She looked at Enge and her expression grew stern. “But knowledge reserved for those with the capacity to understand. Just as males are kept from the casual attention of fargi and unsuited ones, so must this fact of maleness be kept from your companions.”
Enge was concerned. “But openness is the basis of our existence. We share with each other.”
“Wonderful. But this fact is not for sharing.” She pressed the point when she saw that Enge was still doubtful. “I make a comparison. A Yilane would not put a hesotsan in the hand of a yiliebe fargi with the sea still wet on her hide. It would mean death for the fargi or others. The maleness of the Sorogetso could be a weapon, a cultural poison, a threat. Do you understand that and agree?”
“I do,” with grave reservations.
“Then I ask only for scientific reserve — for the present. When we have learned more we can discuss it again. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” With strong modifiers. “We must discover the truth, then determine its effects upon us. Until we have reached that point I will remain silent.”
“Very good. Since you agree with me my respect for your intelligence grows. Send Setessei here so I can instruct her as to what is to be done.”
The city grew luxuriously, and as it did Ambalasi drew more and more away from it. When problems were brought to her her wrath was so great, her insults so bitter that many grew to fear her. They began to discover ways to solve the problems on their own. This was made possible, as they soon discovered, by the fact that the city of Uguneneb had few of the city comforts they had known in older, larger and long-established cities. Refuse was not consumed and recycled by the city, water had to be brought from the river. Few if any of the other amenities of city life were present. Still existence here was superior to their imprisonment in the orchard. They would have to make do. If they had to sleep communally under the thick-leaved branches and eat a monotonous diet of eel and fish, it was not too important. What was more precious than food and drink to them was the unlimited opportunity to discuss Ugunenapsa and her ways, to seek truth and discover portents. It was a heady and wonderful existence at that moment.
For her part Enge actually managed to forget the existence of Ugunenapsa for a good part of her day, as she labored to understand the Sorogetso, to learn to speak as they spoke. Eeasassiwi did not return after their first encounter, but Enge did manage to make contact with another Sorogetso, who was withdrawn and shy but finally was won over by patience and gifts of food. This one was named Moorawees, which seemed to mean orange-of-color, perhaps because of the slight orange fringe on her crest. She was a female and Enge found that this made it easier to work with her, relate to her.
Understanding of Sorogetso communication grew slowly, but grow it did. They seemed to have very few modifiers and most of the meaning was carried by common color tonality. A few new verbal controllers were noted and soon after this Enge found that she could discuss basic concepts with Moorawees. It was then that the chance came at last to get Ambalasi involved.
“ Opportunity unrivaled,” she signed as she hurried toward the scientist — who instantly abandoned her work and radiated obedient attention. Enge was flustered by this — had never suspected that Ambalasi even knew these subservient gestures.
“Urge of explanation,” Ambalasi said.
“Forthcoming. My informant mentioned that one of her companions — there is no shade of male-female attached to the term that I could tell — has been wounded in some manner. I informed Moorawees that one of us was skilled in repair of bodies and Moorawees grew excited. I think she will lead us to the injured one.”
“Excellent. I have studied their communication as you have recorded it.” She stood erect and spoke in the proper Sorogetso manner. “Help-given, person-aided, gratification.”
Enge was truly impressed. “That is perfect. The time has come for us to penetrate the jungle. I fear only for your safety this first occasion. Perhaps I might take Setessei now, she has healing skills, and might be more suitable for this first visit…”
“It is I who will go now.” Said with all her imperiousness and might. Enge accepted; this was one time she knew that Ambalasi would not be disagreed with.
Ambalasi pushed the bulge on the hide of the carrying creature and its mouth opened to reveal the medical equipment stowed inside. After carefully checking the contents Ambalasi added more nefmakels, large ones for serious wounds, and other items that might be called for. When she was satisfied she shut it, then turned to Enge.
“Carry this yourself — we want no witnesses with us now. Lead the way.”
The Sorogetso was waiting in the river, only her head above the water. Her eyes widened with fear when Ambalasi came up and she turned about and moved away through the stream. They followed her into the river but she was the faster swimmer and her orange crest quickly vanished from sight. Ambalasi saw her emerge on the distant bank and splashed ponderously in that direction. Enge followed, much burdened by the medical supplies. She was gasping for breath when she finally stumbled ashore. Moorawees was at the forest edge, slipping away between the trees as they approached. They hurried after her, losing sight of her finally, but noting that they were following a well-trod path. When they emerged from the shadow of the jungle, on the bank of a stream they found her waiting for them.
“Stop,” her palms flashed, with head-movement controllers of danger-imminent. The two Yilane stopped at once, looked about in all directions yet saw nothing to fear.
“In-water,” Moorawees signed, then opened her mouth wide and emitted a high-pitched warbling cry. She did this a second time until there was an answering call from the other side of the stream. There were movements in the brush there and two more of the Sorogetso emerged and looked doubtfully across the flowing water.
“Danger of strangers, much-fear,” one of them signed.
“Death of Ichikchee greater danger,” Moorawees answered with some firmness. It was only after more hesitation, and shouted commands from Moorawees that they shuffled to the large tree trunk floating by the shore
