“The suddenness of this confuses/saddens me. I knew the day must come. The pleasure in your presence profound. Absence will produce emptiness.”

“Fill it with thoughts of Ambalasei like everyone else here.”

“I will do that of course. And will feel pleasure that the uruketo will now be restored to Yebèisk.”

“That pleasure will have to wait, since I am staying far from Yebèisk and the undoubtedly furious Eistaa. When I have reached Entoban* the uruketo returns here and becomes your responsibility.”

“Gratified acceptance of responsibility.”

“There is another responsibility we must discuss. Accompany me.”

Instead of boarding the uruketo Ambalasei led the way to the boat which floated close by. It was better trained now and responded to Ambalasei’s thumbs on its nerve endings by moving smoothly out into the river. She guided it to the shore beyond the city, then secured it to a tree with the binding sucker on its carapace.

“Do you know this place?” she asked.

“Unforgettable. We saw the first Sorogetso just there. I came here many times when learning their speech. They are gone now.” There were overtones of sorrow, not a little regret, to her meaning.

“They are — and a good thing too. Their independence is assured, their unique culture undefiled by followers of Ugunenapsa. Come this way.”

The floating tree was permanently in place now, its branches sunk deep into the mud. They crossed and pushed their way along the once-smooth pathway, now rank with high grass. When they came to the overgrown clearing, Ambalasei indicated the sodden and collapsed shelters that the Sorogetso had made.

“The Sorogetso had to be taken away from the interference of your argumentative associates. Their culture was in danger. They are on the borderline between material-manipulation and life-manipulation. A wonderful opportunity for observation/knowledge for scientists. Not for me though. I will instruct others, send them to the place on this river where the Sorogetso now dwell. To complete my work. Which brings me to my last contribution in the service of Ugunenapsa. A solution to a problem that has had some of my attention. An intriguing proposition. Continuity.”

“Understanding escapes me.”

“It shouldn’t. Put baldly — when you all die so do Ugunenapsa’s theories.”

“That is entirely too true and it grieves me greatly.”

“Then cease your grieving. A solution is to hand.”

They emerged from the trees to stand on the empty beach of the lakeshore. Ambalasei looked around, then called out the simplest sounds for attention to speaking. After this she settled back on her tail with a weary sigh. Enge could only sign puzzlement and lack of understanding.

There was a stirring in the shrubbery as a small and immature fargi stepped out.

“Together,” Ambalasei signed with color changes of her palms.

“Together,” the fargi answered, then came forward hesitantly at the sight of Enge, trembling and stopping.

“Be without fear,” Ambalasei said slowly and clearly. “Bring others.”

Enge could only stare after the fargi, her body shaped in confusion and wild hope.

“Fargi… here?” she said. “And so small. Can they be Sorogetso?”

“Obviously. I removed all those that were mature and yilanè as you well know. But I observed juvenile efenburu in the lake and was deeply concerned. It was my fear that they would emerge and find none to speak with, would face only certain death. At first I thought I would bring them to join the others, but this represented certain problems. There are other younger efenburu in the lake who will emerge later to join with the older ones. This is a natural process I did not want to interfere with too much. Then I saw the single obvious answer to two problems at one time. Can you tell me what that is?”

Enge choked with emotion, could barely speak. “Salvation. We will be here when they emerge, they will learn to speak, join with us, and in turn speak to the others when they too come onto the beaches.”

“That solves their problem. And the other?”

“You are the salvation of the Daughters of Life. You insure for eternity the continuity of the wisdom of Ugunenapsa.”

“I am not sure about eternity, but for a while at least. You do realize that you cannot interbreed with them, don’t you? Their metabolic birth changes are far too different from ours. When they reach maturity you must be absolutely certain that Sorogetso mate only with Sorogetso. Can you control the lust of your Daughters?”

“Our lust is for wisdom only — you need have no fear.”

“Good. You must also realize that you will only have cultural continuity, not genetic? One day the last of the present crop of Daughters will die of old age. There will be only Sorogetso then.”

“I understand your meaning — and assure you again that it is of no importance. The Eight Principles of Ugunenapsa will live on, that is all that matters.”

“Good. Then it is time for me to go. My important labors are finished here. I return to the adulation of civilized cities, the respect of eistaa. And pleasure at forgetting completely the dreaded name of Ugunenapsa.”

The trading took up the better part of the first day, then extended into the next day as well. The Paramutan enjoyed it too much to finish with it quickly. Hanath and Morgil were soon possessed of the same enthusiasm, regretted only that they had not brought more to trade. Then someone had suggested fresh meat. All activities were suspended while the two hunters seized up their bows and hurried into the forest. While the Paramutan were the best hunters in the ocean they lacked the Tanu skills ashore. The four freshly killed deer were greeted with high-pitched shouts of approval.

There was feasting — and the trade continued. Then more feasting to celebrate its satisfying end. Kerrick sat away from the others, on one of the dunes that faced out over the sea, deep in thought. Armun came to join him and he took her hand and seated her beside him.

“They are teaching each other songs now, she said. “Though they have no idea at all of what they mean.”

“We should have made some porro — then there really would be a celebration.”

“Don’t even say it out loud!” She laughed at the two hunters who were now demonstrating how the Tanu wrestled. “Even the thought of the Paramutan drinking porro is enough to make me want to flee.”

There were more shouts and a loud thud as Kalaleq showed them that, even for their size, the Paramutan were strong wrestlers as well.

“I have been thinking about many things since we came here,” Kerrick said. “I have made some important decisions. The first decision is to make you happier.”

She held to his arm and laughed. “I could not be happier, we are together.”

“Not completely. I know that there is a thing that bothers you — so I tell you that this is now finished, over. Arnwheet has many friends, but I have forced him to come with me to talk to the one on the island. And you hate that.”

Her smile was gone now. “I do. But you are a hunter and I cannot tell you to do one thing, not another. You do as you must.”

“I have been wrong. When we return I will see that the boy stays far away from the one you call a marag. But the marag is my friend and I take pleasure in talking to him. But Arnwheet can do as he wishes. If he wishes to forget how the murgu talk — he will forget.”

“But you have said many times how important it is that he knows these things.”

“I do not think that way any longer. They are of no importance. I have been blind to what the world is really like. I look Tanu, but I think like a murgu. No longer. The world has not changed. Just the way I see it has changed.”

Armun listened in silence, not understanding, but knowing that what he was saying was terribly important to him. He smiled at her attentive, silent stare, touched his finger to her lips.