“No. Except for the ninth that is.”
“Then — if you doubt that which is most important to us, why do you aid us?”
“A question I never thought you would ask. Are you asking it now because you have finally realized that I do not hold to your beliefs, never will?”
“Ambalasei is all-seeing, all-knowing. That is indeed the reason that I ask.”
“The answer is a simple and obvious one — from my point of view. Like all Yilane of science I care how life functions, relates, continues, changes, dies. This is the Yilane way, has been, is now, will be. I am satisfied with it. But I am not closed-minded like all of the others. I wanted to study your group, and your Ugunenapsa, because she is the first thinker to ask a different question. Not how things work — but why? Most intriguing. Asking why has aided me in my own research and speculation, and I am grateful to you for that. If not for all the physical difficulties it entailed. When Ugunenapsa asked why for the first time something new came into our world. Asking why produced her principles, these in turn produced the Daughters of Life — who produced endless trouble by refusing to die in a normal Yilane manner. It also produced an entirely new attitude to Yilane ways. If the fact should be known, and I think it must be, I care nothing at all for Ugunenapsa or her theories. What I have really been interested in is studying you.”
Enge was shaken, signed incomprehension, desire for explanation.
“I shall of course furnish that. Consider our ways, consider the Yilane relationship, one to the other. The eistaa rules and all below obey. Or die. Fargi emerge from the ocean and are completely ignored. They are supplied with food, only because if they died that would be the end of all Yilane, but given nothing else. If they persist, and have the will and the drive to learn, they become yilane and may form part of the life of the city. Most don’t. They wander off and, I presume, die. It must be said therefore, that all we Yilane have offered one another is rejection and death. You however, Enge, offer compassion and hope. This is a very unusual and new thing.”
“Hope signifies possibility of better tomorrow. I do not understand the other term.”
“Nor could you be expected to since it is of my own construction, to describe a new concept. I mean an understanding of the unhappiness of others, linked with a desire to alleviate their miseries. This is why I have aided you. So stay here, stay safe in your city and study the why of life. I doubt if we shall speak again once I leave.”
It was too abrupt, the parting had come too swiftly. And Ambalasei, with her usual stark frankness, had pointed out that they would undoubtedly never meet again. Enge’s body moved as she searched for words and movements to express how she felt, could find nothing that was satisfactory.
Then they had reached the water’s edge and Enge could still find nothing to say to express the depth of her feelings. In the end she simply touched Ambalasei’s thumbs, as she would those of one of her efensele and stepped away. Without a backward glance Ambalasei took Setessei’s waiting hand and was helped onto the uruketo. Elem looked down from the top of the fin, ready to issue the orders to leave, when the crewmember beside her signed for attention, pointed out into the river. She turned in the indicated direction, looked with rigid concentration.
“Urgency of listening,” she called down to those below. “There is something distant in the river. Strong possibility of identification suggests — it is an uruketo.”
“Impossibility,” Ambalasei said, trying to peer into the distance. “Setessei, with eyesight of raptor, what do you see?”
Setessei climbed partway up the fin, did not speak until she was sure.
“It is as Elem has said. An uruketo coming in this direction.”
“Impossibility of accidental discovery. If thin Ukhereb or fat Akotolp is aboard it signifies close attention to my notes. Undoubtedly a research voyage of their own. I still leave.”
“Yilane of science are always welcome,” Enge said, looking out at the approaching uruketo. “We will learn from them — and they can possibly learn from us.”
Ambalasei did not have Enge’s placid acceptance of life. It had been her experience that most surprises turned out to be unwelcome ones. Despite this knowledge her curiosity won and she did not sign Elem to leave, but looked instead at the approaching creature with dark suspicion. There were Yilane now visible on top of the uruketo’s fin; identities still unknown. There was too great an element of chance to life. If she had left yesterday she would not have been present when this uruketo arrived. There was no point in even considering that now. Like the true scientist she waited stolidly for new evidence before she decided if the newcomer was welcome. Or not.
Setessei spoke and decided that. “One on the fin is a hunter of your acquaintence from Yebeisk, the one known as Fafnepto.”
“Unwelcome,” Ambalasei said firmly. “Yesterday would have been a far better day to depart. We can expect nothing of benefit to arrive from Yebeisk. Do you know the others?”
“An uruketo commander, also from Yebeisk. The third is unfamiliar.”
“Known to me,” Enge said, with such dread and hatred in her speaking that Ambalasei was shocked, had never heard Enge like this before. “One known as Vainte, once my efensele, now rejected and despised. She was wise and led. Now death is her only follower.”
Silence gripped them as they watched the dark form of the uruketo loom up and approach the dock, sending small waves slapping against the wood. Ambalasei considered boarding her own uruketo and leaving, realized it was too late when Fafnepto raised up a hesotsan where it could be seen. There was no ignoring this message. This uruketo had brought a most unwelcome cargo.
Fafnepto jumped ashore and strode towards them, the hesotsan firmly in her grip, with Vainte, unarmed, only a pace behind. Ambalasei signed rejection and disgust.
“Is there a reason, Fafnepto, why you approach in such an insulting manner and draw negative attention to that weapon?”
“Good reason, Ambalasei. There is but a single hesotsan present and I hold it. Therefore I issue the commands. I have been commissioned by Saagakel, Eistaa of Yebeisk, to follow and find you. To return there with this uruketo that you took without her permission.”
“Wrong. It was mine to use with her permission.”
“To use, yes, but Saagakel believes this use was not the one she originally intended.”
“A matter of opinion. I assume that you wish to return the creature to Saagakel. Then take it.”
“You as well, Ambalasei. The Eistaa would have you return as well. A refusal would not be accepted.”
Ambalasei’s body arched with scorn. “If I refuse — will you kill me, hunter?”
“Yes. And use your assistant’s skill to preserve your body so that I can return with it, proving that my commission has been accomplished. Perhaps Saagakel will hang your tanned skin on the city’s walls.”
“Silence!” Enge commanded so strongly that Fafnepto recoiled, raising her weapon. “That a creature of such small worth should speak this way to a scientist of Ambalasei’s standing is unacceptable/despicable. Silence and instant departure of uruketo ordered.”
Fafnepto kept her weapon ready, looked coldly at Enge, ready for any attack. Vainte stepped forward and signed threat/impossible.
“This one cannot commit violence,” she said. “She is Enge who is a Daughter of Life/Death and can injure nothing.
Fafnepto lowered the hesotsan and signed contempt. “Then she is the one of whom the Eistaa spoke. We have no need of her, she is of no concern to us. Just the uruketo and Ambalasei will return. These are my orders. I was also commanded to kill any who stood in my way.”
Vainte signed agreement. “A wise decision. These creatures spread only dissent. Killing them is an act of kindness. I am surprised that the eistaa of this city permits their presence.
“There is no eistaa here,” Enge said with cold contempt. “Leave. You are not welcome. This is the city of Ugunenapsa and you are not welcome.
“Not welcome? To this fine city. Impossible to believe. I will speak with the eistaa.”
“Do you not listen, creature of stupidity?” Ambalasei said. “There is no eistaa here. I grew this city, so I know whereof I speak.”
A gasping and muffled sound of attention to speaking sounded loudly from the uruketo. Akotolp was clambering down from the fin, clumsily because of her fat and the container she carried.
