Unbidden the memory seared across Kerrick’s eyes, obscuring the scene before him. Vaintè holding him that way when he was a boy, pressing him to the ground, forcing herself upon him. Pain and pleasure, something new then, terribly strange.

No longer new. In Armun’s arms he had found there could be warmth in this embrace, happiness. Forgetfulness.

But now at this entwined sight he remembered clearly what had happened to him and hatred overwhelmed all thought. He pushed forward through the reeds, splashing noisily through the shallow water. Nadaske cried a warning as the watching hunter heard him, stood and turned, raised her hèsotsan.

Fell forward as Kerrick’s own weapon cracked out a dart of death. He stepped over the body, heard Nadaske running after him, strode towards the fierce, silent coupling.

The females did not stir, seemed unaware. Not so Imehei. He gasped beneath their joined weight, writhed, rolled pained eyes towards Kerrick. Tried to speak but could not.

It was Nadaske who killed them. Fired and fired again then ran forward to push at the collapsing bodies. They fell, hitting the ground heavily, already dead.

As they fell their muscles relaxed in death, releasing Imehei. One, then the other of his organs withdrew, and his sac closed. But he was too exhausted to move. Kerrick had no idea what to do next.

Nadaske did. Death by silent dart was too simple a fate for these two. They could not feel his attack now, but he could, could release his hatred upon them. He fell on the first one, worried her throat with his teeth until he tore it open, did the same to the other. Blood flowed and spattered. Only when this had been done did Nadaske stumble to the lake and push his head under the surface and wash himself clean in the clear water.

When he returned Imehei was sitting up wearily, un-speaking. Nadaske sat down slowly next to him, supported his weight, also in silence.

Something terrible had taken place.

“Good foot. Fine foot. New foot,” Ambalasei said slowly, her open palms moving with color, speaking the simple Sorogetso language.

Ichikchee lay before her on the thick grass, shivering, her eyes wide with fear-of-unknown. She looked down at her foot, then quickly away. The pink skin that covered it was so different from the green skin of her leg above. This troubled her very much. In an attempt to comfort her, Ambalasei reached down and lightly touched her ankle, but she only shivered the more.

“They are simple creatures,” Ambalasei said, signing her assistant Setessei to her side. “As simple as their language. Give her something to eat, that always has a calming effect. Good, see she eats and registers pleasure. We leave now — follow me.”

Ambalasei had become a familiar sight to the Sorogetso, by design and not by accident of course. She had the patience of the true scientist so did not hurry her contact with these wild creatures. They had always been hesitant in the presence of the larger Yilanè, so she was careful not to rush forward to issue orders or question them. Enge had done her work well in learning their language and had taught Ambalasei, who had become a fluent speaker, her vocabulary much larger than Enge’s since Enge was so occupied with the city. Now, when the Sorogetso were unwell or injured, they looked to Ambalasei for help. She was always there, asking them only about their symptoms, with perhaps a few other small questions that seemed relevant. Her knowledge grew.

“They are completely lacking in fact/knowledge, Setessei — look on and be amazed. You might be peering back through time at our own ancestors, as they existed soon after the egg of time cracked open. Poisonous spiders thrust forward as a defense, as we used crabs, lobsters. And there, see how they have assembled bundles of reeds? Wrapped and tied they have excellent insulating properties, not to mention being a haven for insects. With what care they assemble these into walls of small structures, spread them above to keep out the rain. We are so accustomed to having our sleeping chambers grown to order that we forget that we once lived just as they do.”

“Preference of city comforts: dislike of sleeping on bare ground.”

“Naturally. But forget comfort and think as a scientist. Watch, consider — and learn. They have no water-fruit so again artifice comes to their aid. Hollowed-out gourds to hold water from the river. And something of even greater relevance which I discovered on my previous visit, when I came alone.”

“Apologies amplified for absence at that time — importance of fungal procedures needed for plant infection.”

“Apologies unneeded: I ordered those procedures. Now through here…”

“Back, back, don’t come here!” Easassiwi shouted at them, springing forward from his hiding place in the brush, his palms flaming red. Setessei stopped, stepped back. Ambalasei stopped as well, but reacted sternly.

“You are Easassiwi. I am Ambalasei. We talk little.”

“Back!”

“Why should I? Give reason? Easassiwi is strong/male not afraid of weak/female.”

Easassiwi signed negative, looking warily at Ambalasei. He still made a face of rejection but the color faded from his palms.

“Here is good food,” Ambalasei said, waving Setessei to her side with the container. “Eat it. Ambalasei has plenty food. You think I take your food? That food in hole there.”

Easassiwi hesitated, then accepted the gift, muttered to himself as he chewed on the piece of eel, watching the strangers closely all the while. He expressed relief when Ambalasei turned and moved away. He signed a protest but did not move aggressively when Ambalasei reached up and pulled an orange-colored fruit from the tree that arched over his head.

When they were out of sight Ambalasei stopped and handed it to her assistant. “Do you know this fruit?”

Setessei looked at it, then broke it open and bit a mouthful from the pulp inside. Spat it out and signed positive knowledge. “It is the same as the one you gave me to test.”

“It is. And what did you find?”

“Glucose, sucrose…”

“Yes, of course,” Ambalasei snapped. “To be expected in a fruit. But what did you find that you did not expect?”

“A simple enzyme very close to collagenase.”

“Good. And what does this lead you to conclude?”

“Nothing. I simply did the analysis.”

“Asleep in daylight/brain ossified to stone! Am I the only one in this world who possesses rational processes of thought? If I tell you that I found meat in that hole in the ground beneath that tree, the freshly killed carcass of an alligator, what would you think then?”

Setessei stopped and gaped, accepted the momentous thought. “But, great Ambalasei, this is a discovery of impossible magnitude. The connecting tissue in the meat would be dissolved by the enzyme, the tough meat rendered edible. Just as we do in our enzyme vats. This is, could be, we are watching…”

“Exactly. The first step up from brutish manipulation of mechanical artifacts, the beginnings of control of chemical and biological processes. The first step on the path that will lead to true Yilanè science. Do you understand now why I ordered that the Sorogetso be barred from the city and be allowed to remain in their normal state?”

“Understanding achieved — with great appreciation. Your studies here knowledge/expanding value/incredible.”

“Of course. At least you have some little comprehension of my great work.” Ambalasei, who had been sitting, comfortably slumped back on her tail, straightened up now, groaning as she did.