The Color of Distance (2 page)

Ani linked spurs with Ilto, joining with him in the healing communion of allu-a. Ilto’s blood was sour with fatigue and his energy reserves were dangerously low. She sent sugars into his depleted system to give him energy. Then she broke down the poisons in his blood. Once the fatigue toxins were gone, she scanned him more closely, looking for more subtle problems. It was then that she tasted a faint taint in his blood. It disturbed her, but Ilto broke the link between them before she could investigate further.

“No, bai,” he told her gently. “You’ve done enough. I was following Kirito down to death, and you brought me back. You are as skilled as any elder, and better than spme of them.”

Ani looked away, frightened by the implications of his praise. She looked back at him. “I don’t want to lose you, siti. I’m happy being your bami. I’m not ready to become an elder.”

“You’ve been ready for a long time now,” he told her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.” He sat up then, still a little pale, but better. He needed food, fruit and meat, before he would be ready to travel. Ani pulled several bright blue tumbi out of her gathering bag and gave them to him. Juice ran down Ilto’s chin as he bit hungrily into the sweet fruit. Ani helped him over to the base of a nearby tree, settling him between two massive, buttressed roots.

“We passed one of Hanto’s na trees a while back. I’ll go get some narey and honey,” she told him. She leaped up the tree and bounded through the canopy until she came to the thick-trunked na tree. A swarm of tilan buzzed curiously around her as she reached the tree, but they drew off when they recognized the familiar scent of her tribe. The Tendu’s na trees were carefully guarded. If the bees had not recognized her, they would have descended in a cloud of stinging fury. Few creatures intruded into a tilan-protected na tree more than once.

Ani paused to catch her breath. Allu-a with Ilto had tired her. She pulled two more tumbi out of her satchel, eating one and breaking the other open for the tilan. The bees clustered thickly on the fruit. Misty grey regret clouded her skin. Normally she would have fed them honeydew straight from her wrist spurs, but she was still drained from healing Ilto.

She climbed into the hollow tree trunk, descending past humming chambers of tilan hives until she reached the pool of water at the bottom of the tree. Even though her need was urgent, she felt a little guilty taking food from an elder’s tree without permission. At least this was Hanto’s tree. The young elder respected Ilto. She would be honored to have helped him.

Hanto took good care of her trees, Ani noted with admiration. The tilan were prosperous and the glow fungus illuminating the inside of the trunk was healthy. The water in the pool in the tree’s base was clean and pure. The narey swimming in its depths would be plump and strong.

Ani slid into the dark, rich water, feeling the vibrations of the startled narey as they rushed to bury themselves in the bottom of the tank. She dove after them, reaching down into the thick, oozing sediment with both hands, grabbing a wriggling narey in her claws and stopping its struggles with a quick sting from her spurs. Ilto was popular as a mate. This might even be one of his own offspring. Ilto could easily repay Hanto with narey from his own thriving brood.

Ani paused at the rim of the reservoir to lay a small clutch of infertile eggs to feed the remaining narey. It wasn’t necessary, but Ilto had taught her the virtues of generosity. Once the narey was butchered, she wrapped it in a fresh leaf and put it in her satchel. Then she gathered several large honeycombs from the tilan hives. She ate one, sucking out the sweet honey, and leaving the waxy, indigestible comb for the tilan to eat and recycle back into their hives.

Renewed by her snack, Ani set off, swinging through the trees at a dangerous pace, hurrying back to Ilto. It was dangerous to leave him alone when he was so weak.

She needn’t have worried. Ilto was sitting where she had left him, munching on handfuls of bibbi shoots from his gathering bag.

A good meal restored them both. Ilto sent Ani back to the village to fetch some help. It took twelve Tendu to bring the new animal and Kirito back to the village. Ilto was still too exhausted to do much, so Ani had to organize everything. She half-expected the elders to scold her for telling them what to do, but they followed her orders without question or comment. Their quiet acceptance of her ability to assume command bothered her. It meant that they agreed she was ready to take Ilto’s place.

They laid the comatose animal on the sleeping platform in Ilto’s room. Ani shooed off the curious villagers and helped her exhausted sitik into bed. The new creature was safely in stasis, and could remain like this for half a month if they fed it nutrients and fluids through their aim.

The next morning, Ilto ate an enormous meal, then set to work. He spent the next four days squatting beside the animal, eyes half-hooded, unaware of his surroundings, lost in intense communion with the new creature. Ani monitored him, working in shifts with other elders so that she could rest and eat. She had to keep herself strong in order to provide Ilto with the strength he needed to continue his deep communion.

Ani watched as Ilto studied the minute details of the new animal’s bizarre physiology. A full day passed before he began changing the new creature. First Ilto altered its body processes so they would not react so strongly to foreign substances. That was easy to do. Next, he improved its sight and hearing, so that it could see better in the dark, and hear nearly as well as a Tendu. Then he puzzled out how to make its toes grow long enough to be useful without causing the rest of its bones to change. That was hard, but it gave him the knowledge he needed to create a skin that adequately protected it from the hazards of the forest.

The skin was the most difficult part. It had to shield the creature from all of the things its own body could not, yet still be able to co-exist with, and draw nourishment from, the body it covered. When complete, the skin would extend through its digestive tract and down into its lungs, protecting it from foods that might make it sick and the unseen proteins in the air that had nearly killed the animal before they found it.

Ilto made its skin capable of showing emotion. Ani doubted the creature was intelligent enough to make use of such a gift, but she decided not to share her doubts with Ilto. She was even more dubious about his decision to give it the same protective stinging stripes as the Tendu, but Ani couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Ilto was happier than she had ever seen him, alive with the joy of a challenging task. The bright, sweet tang of his joy filled her allu as she monitored him. The elders spoke of him in shades of awe and admiration. It was like watching a legend come to life.

Ilto emerged from communion in the middle of the fourth night. He was so weak that Ani had to help him into bed. He let some of the elders give him strength, ate a little kayu mush and yarram, and fell into a deep, healing sleep. Ani piled the leafy bedding over him to keep him warm and moist. She made sure the new creature was all right, then burrowed into her own bed and fell asleep.

Ilto woke Ani late the next day, eager to resume working with the animal. Ani managed to make him wait until she had fed him a big meal. She wanted him to rest another day, but he was determined to continue.

Ilto’s frenetic pace was wearing him down. Despite the enormous and frequent meals Ani forced him to eat, and the nutrients that she poured into his body through her allu, the flesh was melting off Ilto’s bones.

The strange taint in his blood grew stronger as well, but Ilto was too obsessed by the new creature to stop and heal himself. He refused to allow Ani to try to clear it out of his blood. Concerned, she turned to Ninto, the one elder who knew Ilto better than she did.

“He’s pushing himself too hard,” Ani told Ninto, “but he won’t rest.”

“He’s as stubborn as an old kular,” the tall, slender elder agreed.

Blue and green amusement flowed over Ani. She had no trouble seeing Ilto as a spiny, irascible anteater.

“There’s no arguing with him when he’s like this,” cautioned Ninto. “He was like this when I was his bami. I don’t think I remember him ever changing his mind, not in all the years I’ve known him. Once he makes up his mind to do something there’s no arguing him out of it.”

Ani suppressed a brown flush of embarrassment at Ninto’s glancing mention of her relationship with Ilto. Most elders raised only one bami, and once it was ready, its sitik either died or left the village. But an elder had died without a bami to succeed him. The village chief chose Ilto’s bami, Ni-ne, to fill the’dead elder’s place. Ni-ne became the elder Ninto. Ten years later, Ilto selected Ani as his second bami. That made Ninto her tareena.

Ani had been with Ilto for many years. Trees they had planted during their first year together now spread their leaves in the sunshine at the top of the jungle’s canopy. But Ninto had been there before her. She knew Ilto as both sitik and fellow elder. Ani and Ninto were the only tareena in the village. It was an unusual relationship, and it set Ani apart from the other bami.

Ninto brushed Ani’s shoulder affectionately, and set aside the gathering bag she was weaving. “I’ll see what I can do,” she reassured her.

Ilto was linked with the new creature when they came in. Ninto joined the link and gently pulled Ilto out of allu-a.

Ilto turned brilliant yellow with irritation. “Can’t you see I’m too busy to be interrupted!” he flared at Ninto. “I thought I trained you better than that!” He launched into a long tirade about manners, lecturing Ninto as though she were still a bami.

To Ani’s surprise, Ninto listened politely. Only a tiny blue flicker of amusement running down Ninto’s back showed she paid absolutely no attention to Ilto’s scolding. Ani’s ears lifted, and she fought back her own amusement.

“Kene,” Ninto said, when Ilto was done, “you are being selfish.”

“In what way am I being selfish?” Ilto asked, his words stiff and formal in response to Ninto’s use of his title.

“You are neglecting the future of our village by mistreating your bami.”

Ani sat up, insulted. “He is not!” But her words went unnoticed. A cautionary pattern flared briefly on Ninto’s back, telling Ani to be still.

“Look how thin and tired she is. You’re asking too much of her.” Ninto motioned to Ani, who came forward out of the shadows.

Ilto linked with Ani. She could feel him probing her physical condition. Brown shame coursed over his skin as he broke the link.

“You’re right,” he told Ninto. “I will put the creature into jeetho tomorrow.” Grey regret clouded his words.

“Not tomorrow,” Ninto said. “Give Ani a day of rest before you work any more with the new animal. The creature’s stabilized. It can wait another day.”

“But—” Ilto protested.

Ani, realizing that by giving her a day of rest Ilto would also be resting, interrupted him with a touch on the shoulder. “Please, siti, I won’t be able to do it tomorrow. I’m too tired.” She turned a pale, sickly white, hating herself for the lie she was telling. “I’m sorry, siti.” That much, at least, was true.

Ani glanced at Ninto’s back, and saw a faint ripple of approval.

“Ani will rest tomorrow. We will put the creature into jeetho the day after tomorrow,” Ilto announced, never admitting he had changed his mind.

Ani glanced over at Ninto, impressed with her skill at manipulating Ilto. She hoped someday she would be that clever. Ninto met her glance and flicked an ear at her.

“Ilto is right,” Ninto said when Ani followed her out to thank her. “You are ready to become an elder. You handled that well.” A mist of regret clouded the colors of her words. “I’ll miss Ilto when he goes.”

“I think Ilto will die rather than leave the village,” Ani said.

“Does it matter?” Ninto asked. “Either way, he will be dead to us here.”

Ani disagreed. She wanted to know Ilto was alive somewhere in the world, even if she never saw him again. She said nothing. Ninto was an elder, and one didn’t argue with elders.

Ninto brushed her knuckles across Ani’s shoulder. “Thank you for letting me help.” She paused, and there was a flicker of color on her chest as though she was about to say something else. Instead she turned and climbed down the trunk.

That afternoon, Ilto took Ani and a tinka to help gather food for the evening meal. Their hunting went well. They killed two plump, scaly mityak and an unwary young moodar, its feathers bright with courtship colors. The tinka found a rotting log full of grubs, and gathered a bag full of bardarr berries. They would eat well tonight. Before returning, they paused to lay out a paste made from yarram and mashed dindi roots as bait to attract mantu. Back at the village tree, they rewarded the tinka with a strip of dried yarram each and a share of the food they had gathered, and returned to their room.

They ate steadily. Every time Ilto paused, Ani handed him some particularly choice delicacy. She wanted to be sure he ate as much as he possibly could before they started working again on the new creature. Ilto also pushed her to eat. At last, her stomach tight and bulging, Ani could eat no more. Ilto sent her to bed. Exhausted, Ani burrowed into her warm, moist bed of leaves and fell asleep.

Ninto woke her. The rank smell of sickness filled the room. Ninto’s skin was clouded with worry. Ani glanced over at Ilto. His breathing sounded ragged and reugh and his skin had the flat, silvery sheen of sickness.

“He drugged you to keep you asleep, and then started working again on the new creature,” Ninto said. “A tinka found him. Since it couldn’t wake you, it got me. Ilto won’t let me help him. He keeps breaking the link.”

Ani linked with Ilto. The alien taint in his blood was stronger than ever. She recognized it now. Some of the new creature’s cells had gotten into his body, and were attacking Ilto.

“Can you do anything?” Ninto asked.