“Yes.”

“You must have had the meeting.”

“On the problem of intervention? Yes.”

“What happened?”

Ivanova laughed. “What do you expect? You and Derek had vanished. We could not reach you by radio. People wanted to look for you. Eddie said no. It was too risky. The precedent was too dangerous. We had to adhere to his ridiculous—what do you call it?”

I frowned, looking toward the shore. It was a gray line now. “Do you mean the policy of nonintervention?”

“No. It is a term invented by writers. American writers, I think. Prime something.”

I grinned. “The Prime Directive.”

“Agopian told me about it. He is full of information about America and science fiction.”

“So you decided to look for us. Believe me, I am grateful. But why the village? Why are you going there?”

“Eddie said no. I said—the crew said—this is crazy. We can’t leave people in trouble. We can’t let other humans die. Eddie kept pounding at the danger of the precedent. I don’t understand him. I am from the Chukotka National District. Do you know where that is?”

“No.”

“Siberia, as far east and north as anyone can go and still be on the continent of Asia. Most of my ancestors were ethnic Russians. But no one in Siberia is entirely one thing. I have ancestors who were Chukchi and Inuit. I know what happened to the Small Peoples, the original natives, for good and for bad. We learned it in school.

“That’s over. We can’t undo it, and we can’t stop history. We can only act more carefully, more thoughtfully, with more respect and less greed.” She paused. “We can only act like socialists.”

I thought for a moment. “I don’t understand what this has to do with being here.”

“It was a deadlock,” said Tatiana. “No one wanted to leave you on the planet. But there are a lot of people on the ship from Asia and Africa and Latin America. They remember the stories they learned in school. Comrade Ivanova is from Siberia. I am from Kazakhstan. From the Kazakh A.S.S.R. I know what happened to our good pastureland when the Russians—the Soviet Russians—came.”

“What?” I asked.

“Plowed up. Gone. We had to pasture our herds in the dry land—the desert—or the mountains.” The woman lifted her binoculars. “Comrade, could you bring us closer to the shore?”

“Yes.” Ivanova turned the wheel. The boat turned toward the rainy marsh: gray reeds, bent under the weight of water. They moved gently in the wind. “As Tatiana says, it was a deadlock. We sat and glared at one another. Until the Chinese said it was not our problem.”

I looked at Ivanova, surprised.

“They said the planet does not belong to us. And it is not our history that we are afraid of changing. They said—Mr. Fang said—consult the natives. Ask them if they want to have us here.” Ivanova paused. “That is why we are going to the village.”

“One village is going to decide this issue for the entire planet?”

“No. Of course not. We are going to the nearest village to explain who we are and why we have come into their territory. To ask if we can stay. If they say no, we will apologize and leave. If they say yes…”

Tatiana said, “There is something on the shore.”

The boat slowed. I made out the thing. It lay on a mud bank, entirely out of the water. A long object, narrow and dark. A lizard?

Tatiana said, “A canoe.”

“What?” I held out my hand. She gave me the binoculars. She was right. “We tipped over next to the eastern shore. How could it possibly have gotten here?”

“The current certainly would not have brought it,” Ivanova said.

The boat slowed, edging toward the bank. Ivanova spoke in Russian. Tatiana went into the cabin. The boat stopped. Eddie came out on deck, Agopian following.

“How deep?” asked Eddie.

Ivanova glanced at the instruments in front of her. “A little over a meter.”

Eddie went over the side and waded to shore.

“Comrade?” asked Agopian.

“Stay here. Unless you want to go.”

“Of course I do. It’s clearly an artifact—made by aliens. I’d like to touch it. I’m already wet.”

She laughed. He followed Eddie. I raised the binoculars again. Eddie was at the canoe. I could estimate the size now. It was too small. Eddie touched the wood. Agopian came up, his shoulders hunched against the rain, his pants soaked to the waist. They spoke. If they’d been natives, I would have understood them. But the gestures they made had no clear meaning. Agopian pointed. Eddie shook his head. They looked around them. Agopian pulled out a camera. He took pictures of the canoe. Eddie walked back toward us.

“It isn’t our canoe,” I said to Ivanova.

“No?”

“Too small. And there’s something else. The shape of the prow.”

Eddie climbed back onboard. “It’s old. The wood is rotten. There are plants growing inside it.” He glanced back at Agopian. The short man was still taking pictures. “There aren’t any footprints on the shore. I’d say it washed up, maybe in the spring. This river must flood. I don’t think it was new then. It looks as if it’s been in the water for years.”

“There isn’t much chance of finding them, is there?” I said.

“No.”

“They should have been on the eastern side of the river,” said Ivanova. “Near the main channel, like you and Derek.” She paused, then shouted. “Comrade!”

I jumped.

Eddie grinned. “You see what it’s been like on the ship. She has one hell of a bellow.”

“I have almost never yelled at you,” said Ivanova.

Agopian waded back out. Eddie helped him onboard.

“It isn’t much to look at,” he said. “But it isan artifact.” I heard an odd tone in his voice. “They aren’t a figment of our imagination.”

“Who?” asked Eddie.

“The aliens. The natives. Other people. Sentient life.” He laughed. “And I’m here.” He looked down at his pants. “I’m going to have to change my clothes.”

Eddie nodded. The boat began to move, edging out toward deeper water. The men went into the cabin.

I stayed next to Ivanova. The boat picked up speed. The rain grew heavier. The islands and the shore became dim shadows. Water ran down the windshield and beat on the unprotected deck in back of us. The wind carried it under the overhang. It touched me. I shivered.

“Go inside, comrade. I don’t know what diseases it is possible to catch on this planet, but whatever they are, you are asking to catch them. You are exhausted. You haven’t eaten properly for days. And now you are getting wet and cold. Give the binoculars to Tatiana. I don’t believe she will be able to see anything. But one does not give up when lives are at stake.”

I went in. Derek was lounging in a chair, his legs out, his shoulders against the back. Not the way he usually sat. He looked exhausted. The others sat around him, drinking tea and talking softly. Lights glowed pale yellow.

Tatiana glanced up. “She wants me?”

“Yes.” I handed over the binoculars. She left. I sat down on a couch, feeling disoriented. Maybe it was the light. So pale and steady. So foreign. Nothing like firelight. I rubbed my neck. The others glanced at me, then continued their conversation. It had something to do with a concert on the ship. A composer who was using elements of native music taken from our reports. Eddie thought the work was superficial. Agopian thought it was interesting. Derek asked a question now and then.

I lay down and closed my eyes. Someone put a blanket over me.

Derek said, “We’re almost to the camp.”

I sat up. The lights were off. The cabin was empty, except for the two of us.

“It stopped raining,” he said. “Come out.”

I stood, stretching, and followed him onto the deck. Tatiana was at the wheel. The other three leaned against the stern railing. Eddie’s long hair fluttered in the wind. Behind them was the river valley, dark with forest. Above them the sky was iron-gray. In the west—on my right—it was clearing. Rays of sunlight came through the clouds and touched the river. No. The lake. It stretched around us, wide and silver-gray. Birds soared over the choppy water. I looked to my left. I could just barely make out the eastern shore. “It’s bigger than I expected.”