Vaintè’s arrival did not go unnoticed. As the boat drew up at the dock she saw that someone was standing there, tight-wrapped in a cloak and obviously waiting for her. arrival. “Who is that?” Vaintè asked. Inlènat followed her gaze.

“I have heard her called Vanalpè. Her rank is the highest. She has never spoken to me.”

Vaintè knew her, at least knew her reports. Business-like and formal with never a word about personalities or difficulties. She was the esekaksopa, literally she-who-changed-the-shape-of-things, for she was one of the very few who knew the art of breeding plants and beasts into new and useful forms. Now she was the one with responsibility for the design and actual growth of the city. While Vaintè was Eistaa, the leader of the new city and its inhabitants, Vanalpè had the ultimate responsibility for the physical shape of the city itself. Vaintè tried not let the sudden tension show: this first meeting was of vital importance for it could shape their entire relationship. And upon that relationship depended the fate and the future of Alpèasak itself.

“I am Vaintè,” she said as she stepped out onto the raw wood of the dock.

“I greet you and I welcome you to Alpèasak. One of the fargi saw the uruketo and the approach of this boat and reported to me. It was my greatest wish that it be you. My name is Vanalpè, one who serves,” she said formally, making the sign of submission to a superior. She did it in the old-fashioned way, the full double-hand motion, not in the usual and more modern shortened way. After that she stood square-legged and solid, waiting for orders. Vaintè warmed to her at once and on impulse seized her hand in a gesture of friendship.

“I have read your reports. You have worked hard for Alpèasak. Did the fargi tell you anything else… did she speak of the beach?”

“No, just of your arrival. What of the beach?”

Vaintè opened her mouth to speak — and realized that she could not. Since that single scream of pain she had kept her feelings under perfect control. But she felt that now, if she spoke of the slaughter of the males and the young, that her anger and horror would push through. That would not be politic nor help the image of cold efficiency that she always maintained in public.

“Inlènat,” she ordered. “Tell Vanalpè what we found on the beach.”

Vaintè paced down the length of the dock and back, not listening to the voices, planning the order of all the things that she must do. When the voices fell still she looked up and found them both waiting for her to speak.

“Now you understand,” she said.

“Monstrous. The creatures who did this must be found and destroyed.”

“Do you know what they possibly can be?”

“No, but I know one who does. Stallan, who works with me.”

“She is named huntress by design?”

“She is truly named. She alone has ventured into the jungle and forests that surround the city. She knows what is to be found there. Knowing this I have made modifications of the city design that I must give you details…”

“Later. Though I am now Eistaa the less pressing duties can wait until something is done about the killings. The city goes well — there are no immediate problems?”

“None that cannot wait. It goes as it should. The fever has been stopped. A few died.”

“Deeste died. Will she be missed?”

Vanalpè was silent, eyes lowered in thought. When she did speak it was obvious that she had considered her responsibilities and weighed her words carefully. “There has been bad-feeling in this city and many say that Deeste was responsible for that. I agree with that opinion. Very few will miss her.”

“Those few…?”

“Personal associates. You will quickly discover who they are.”

“I understand. Now send for Stallan and order her to attend me. While we wait show me your city.”

Vanalpè led the way between the high roots, then pushed aside a hanging curtain that shivered at her touch. It was warmer inside and they dropped their cloaks onto the pile beside the door. The cloaks extruded slow tentacles that probed the wall until they smelled the sweetness of the saptree and attached themselves to it.

They passed through the temporary structures close to the waterfront, translucent sheets fastened to skeletal, fast-growing trees. “This technique is new,” Vanalpè explained. “This is the first city to be founded in a very long time. Since the last founding the days were used wisely and great improvements have been made in design.” She was animated now, smiling as she slapped her hand against the brittle sheets. “I developed these myself. A modified insect pupa greatly enlarged. As long as the pupae are well fed in the larval stage they will produce large numbers of these sheets. They are peeled off and joined together while they are still soft. They harden with exposure. Nor is this resource wasted. See, we come to the city tree now.”

She pointed to the network of heavy roots that now formed the walls, where they wrapped and engulfed the translucent sheets. “The sheets are pure carbohydrate. They are absorbed by the tree and form a valuable energy input.”

“Excellent.” Vaintè stopped under a light that huddled next to a heater which had spread its membranous wings. She looked about in unfeigned admiration. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am. I have read all of your reports, I knew what you were accomplishing here, but seeing the solidity of the growth itself is a different matter. It is impressive impressive impressive.” She indicated a repetition and enlargement of the last word. “My first report to Entoban* will say just that.”

Vanalpè turned her head away in silence, not daring to speak. All of the work of her lifetime had been in city design and Alpèasak was the culmination of those labors. The new Eistaa’s unchecked enthusiasm was overpowering. Long moments passed before she was able to speak, pointing to the heater. “This is so new you won’t have seen it in the reports.” She stroked the heater which withdrew its fangs from the saptree for a moment, turned sightless eyes towards her and squeaked thinly. “I have been breeding these experimentally for years. I can truthfully report now that the experiments were successful. They are longer-lived and need no nourishment other than the sugars of the saptree. And feel the body temperature, it is certainly higher than any other.”

“I can only admire.”

Proudly, Vanalpè led the way again, between the curtains of entangled roots. She bent as she went through an opening, holding the roots up so Vaintè could enter, then pointed at the thick trunk that formed the rear wall. She laughed and held out her hand, palm upwards. “It lay there on my hand, that small, it seemed impossible to believe the days and days of labor needed to prepare the mutated gene chains that went into it. And no one was absolutely sure until it grew that our work had been successful. I had this area cleared of brush and trees, insect life as well, then I fertilized and watered the ground myself, pushed a hole into it with my thumb — then planted the seed. I slept beside it that night, I couldn’t leave. And next day there was the tiniest green shoot. I can’t describe how I felt. And now — it is this.”

With great pride and happiness Vanalpè slapped the thick bark of the great tree that rose there. Vaintè went and stood beside her, touching the wood herself and feeling the same joy. Her tree, her city.

“This is where I will stay. Tell everyone that this is my place.”

“This is your place. Walls will be planted to ring the place of the Eistaa. I will now go and wait for Stallan, then bring her here.”

When she had gone Vaintè sat in silence until a passing fargi looked her way, then sent her for meat. But when the fargi returned she was not alone.

“I am called Hèksei,” the newcomer said in the most formal manner. “Word has spread of your arrival, great Vaintè, and I have hurried to greet you and welcome you to your city.”