“Only this,” said Mr. Fang. He looked at the shamaness. “This is your planet and your decision. It will remain your decision. If—in the future—you want us to leave, we will.”

“He says this is your country. You can tell us to stay. You can tell us to go, now or anytime.”

Angai frowned. “I know all that. Does he think I am stupid?” She climbed to her feet. “We will end now. I will go and think about everything these people have told us. I’ll ask the advice of the spirits and the old women of the village. Tomorrow I will tell you what my decision is.” She made the gesture that meant “it is over” and went into her tent.

The villagers began to disassemble their awnings.

I helped Mr. Fang get up.

“I do not really agree with the Daoists,” he said. “But maybe we take too much upon ourselves. Making history is hard work, and it may be dangerous. I think I will have a cup of tea, look at the river, and contemplate inaction.”

We walked through the village. He leaned on my arm. I realized how thin he was, and frail.

“On the other hand,” said Mr. Fang, “there is the story of Yu the Engineer. He was traveling on government business and had to cross a river. A large yellow dragon bumped the boat.

“The boatmen were terrified. Yu remained calm. He said, ‘I am doing my utmost in the interest of the people, discharging my duties in obedience to Heaven. Living, I am a guest. Dying, I go home. Why should I be disturbed? This dragon is no more than a lizard.’

“The dragon flattened its ears and dropped its tail and swam away. Yu continued on his journey. I have always liked that story.”

We went down the river bluff. I helped him onto Ivanova’s boat and settled him in a chair on the deck. The cabin was empty. Yunqi must have gone to see Tatiana. I made tea and brought it out. Lapsang Souchong. We sipped and watched birds fishing in the river.

Yunqi returned and prepared lunch. Cold noodles and pickled vegetables. We ate together on the deck. The pickles were delicious.

After a while Derek joined us and drank a beer, his feet up on the railing, his new shoes gleaming. “Much better! I don’t like speeches. They aren’t what life is about. If life is about anything.”

I made the gesture of agreement.

“What will they do?” asked Yunqi. “Will we be allowed to stay?”

I said, “I don’t know.”

Yunqi frowned. “Our work is important.”

“This is their country,” said Mr. Fang.

I decided that I was hot and sticky and not especially willing to listen to speculation about the villagers. “I’m going for a swim.”

Derek made the gesture that meant “that’s a good idea.”

I went to the other boat.

Agopian and Ivanova sat on the deck. They were talking softly and intently in Russian. They glanced at me, then went back to their conversation.

Eddie was in the cabin on a couch reading.

“Where is Tatiana?” I asked.

“In the village. She wanted to see the people. It might be her only chance. They may tell us to go.” There was something in his voice. Hope? Satisfaction?

I got a towel and a bottle of soap from the bathroom. “What are the comrades talking about?”

“I have no idea. It never occurred to me that I’d need Russian. Their work in the social sciences is not that good, at least in the areas that interest me.”

“It’s probably nothing.” I got a new pair of coveralls: bright yellow. “I’m going into the river. If I’m not back in an hour, get out the nets.”

“Okay.”

I washed in the shallow water close to shore, then swam out to midchannel. It was midafternoon now. The cliffs above me were still bright with sunlight, but the forest along the river was shadowy. I floated on my back, letting the current take me south and east.

Something whistled. I lifted my head. There was a biped on the shore. It was two meters tall, yellow with blue stripes and a lovely azure throat. A predator. I saw the clawed hands and the mouth full of pointed teeth. An osupamaybe? It watched me, fearless, then whistled again. Other animals came out of the shadows: a pack. The young were half the size of their parents and spotted rather than striped. Ten in all. On land they would have frightened me. But they didn’t look like swimmers. I flipped over and slowly swam upriver to the boat. The current was stronger than I had realized. By the time I pulled myself onboard I was tired. I sat on the prow, breathing heavily.

The dominant predators seemed to be the animals called killers. They were four-footed and looked something like badgers or leopards, if the art of the natives was accurate. Were the predatory bipeds being pushed out? Or did they fill another ecological niche? Maybe the killers preyed mostly on bowhorns, while these animals preyed on their herbivorous cousins. More questions for Marina to answer. I got dressed and went aft.

Ivanova was gone. Agopian sat at the folding table, laying down cards. A native watched him, standing at the other end of the table, leaning forward on furry hands.

Agopian looked up. “He or she wants you, I think. It’s really hard trying to relate to utterly strange beings who don’t speak a language I understand.”

“What is he doing?” asked the native. It was Nia’s son.

“It’s a…” I hesitated. I still didn’t know the word for game. “A ceremony. Or else, it’s the kind of thing that children do with a stick and a ball.”

“Hu! He puts red on black and black on red. But I don’t understand the rest. Are the colors important?”

I translated.

Agopian said, “Red for blood and fire. Black for night and death.” He laid down a card. “Black for anarchy. Red for revolution.”

I looked at Anasu. “He says, they are the colors of blood and fire, night and death, confusion and change.”

“That is plenty! What a ceremony this person is performing! Is he? I don’t know the word. Is he a male shamaness?”

I translated.

“I am a Marxist.”

I made the gesture that meant “yes.”

“Aiya!” The boy straightened up, taking his hands off the table. “Is there a place where we can go? I don’t want to disturb a shaman.” He paused. “A shaman person.”

“He doesn’t want to bother you,” I said in English.

“Take him away,” Agopian said. “I have to do some thinking.” He glanced up. “I may want to tell you something later.”

“About the conversation you were having with Ivanova?”

“Yes. I think I’ve gotten myself into something stupid, and now I have to get out.” He looked at the array of cards, frowning. “That’s life, as Lenin said. One step forward. Two steps back.” He laid down another card. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t mention my remarks to Ivanova.”

“Okay.”

The boy followed me forward to the prow. We sat down on the fiberglass deck. He wrapped his furry arms around his furry knees.

“One of your people is in the village, walking around and looking. She doesn’t understand a word that people say to her. Or is she a male? I don’t know.”

“A woman. Her name is Tatiana.”

He made the gesture of acknowledgment: a quick flip of one hand. “Hua is with her, making sure that she does not get into trouble.”

A voice called out in the language of the village. It came from a tree that leaned over the river. I glanced up and saw leaves moving. “Is that a friend of yours?”

“Gerat. He always makes a lot of noise. You won’t hear the others. They told me I would not dare go onto the boat.”

“Is that why you came down?”

“Because of the dare? No. We wanted to see the boats, and everyone in the village is arguing.” He hugged his knees. “Hu! What a situation! They don’t want the children around, especially the boys. They don’t want us to see that they are confused.”

“Do you know what they’re going to decide?”

“No. It depends on Angai and the spirits. Also on the old women. I think the old women will say that you have to leave. But I don’t know about Angai.” He tilted his head, considering. His strange pale gray eyes were half-closed. Finally he made the gesture of uncertainty. “Hua might have some idea. She understands Angai better than I do. And she knows more about the spirits.” He opened his eyes. “I have something to ask you.”