The Color of Distance (27 page)

His ultimatum delivered, Ukatonen turned away.

Juna looked at the tinka. Should she leave it behind? It seemed no better than it had after she stitched it up. She had done everything that she could for it and it showed no signs of recovering. The choice was clear—either she could abandon the tinka, or be abandoned by the two Tendu. She couldn’t survive alone in the jungle without the aliens’ help. She had to go with them. The choice was heartbreaking.

Juna slept only a little that night, agonizing over leaving the tinka behind. She arose the next morning tired and anxious. She began bathing the tinka. When she inadvertently splashed a droplet of water in its nose, it flinched and snuffled in response. It opened its eyes.

“Good!” Juna exclaimed, both aloud and in skin speech. Anito and Ukatonen looked up at the sound of her voice.

The tinka reached for the water gourd. Juna supported its head as it drank. When it was done, she fed it one of the soft yellow fruits that Anito had gathered the night before. The tinka bit into it hungrily, devouring it in three or four bites.

There was a touch on her shoulder. It was Anito. She handed Juna a gourd of honey.

“Mix this with water and a little salt. It will give the tinka strength,” Anito said.

Juna stared in surprise at the alien, weighing the round, smooth gourd of honey in her hand.

“You wanted to leave the tinka behind three days ago. Why are you helping it now?”

“Because it will live. It has proved itself strong enough to become a Tendu. Let me help you prepare the mixture. It has to be done right for it to work.”

Anito blended the honey and water, adding salt and tasting the mixture with a wrist spur until it was just right.

The tinka gulped the nourishing drink greedily, then devoured morfe fruit. Ukatonen returned from hunting with two medium-sized tree lizards and a large, sloppy pooo-eet bird. He slit the throat of the lizard and let the tinka drink the blood while he cut out the livers from the bird and the other lizard for it to eat.

After that, the tinka improved rapidly. Juna carried it in the sling all morning, but it fed itself lunch, and was able to cling to her without the sling for the rest of the day.

That night, as soon as they had built a nest to sleep in, Ukatonen touched the tinka on the arm, asking it to watch what they had to tell it. Then Ukatonen explained his judgment concerning its fate.

“The new creature may adopt you, but she cannot teach you as well as a regular sitik. Anito and I will help her teach you. In addition, she will leave in about five years. I will become your sitik then.”

The tinka looked at Juna, its ears wide with surprise.

“I must go back to my people. I have no choice,” she told it.

The tinka’s ears flattened against the side of its head and it looked away, clearly unhappy with Juna’s statement. Ukatonen touched it and it turned and looked at him.

“You have another choice,” he told the youngster. “You can go with us to Anito’s village and see if another elder will choose to adopt you. Anito will make sure that you have a place among the village tinka.”

The tinka looked at Anito, ears wide.

Anito flickered acknowledgment. “I will tell the other elders how brave and strong you are. Perhaps that will encourage one of them to choose you.”

“This isn’t fair to you,” Juna told the tinka. “You deserve a better sitik than me, but I couldn’t leave you to die.”

“Do you understand the choice?” Ukatonen asked.

The little alien’s ears flicked up and back, something Juna had seen the tinka do before, when they acknowledged a direct command.

“Do you understand that if you agree to be adopted by the new creature, that she will leave, and that I will become your new sitik?”

The tinka’s ears flattened, and it looked away for a moment, then looked back at them, flicking its ears up and back in agreement.

“Do you understand that you must obey Ukatonen and Anito as though they were your sitik, and listen to them as you would listen to me?” Juna asked.

The tinka’s ears flicked up and back several times.

“What do you choose, the village or the new creature?” Ukatonen asked.

The tinka looked from Juna to Anito and back again, and then pointed at Juna with its chin. It held its spurless wrists out, as though asking to link with her.

Ukatonen looked at Juna. “I ask you one last time: are you willing to adopt this tinka as your bami?” His words were displayed in such formal patterns that Juna had to look at Anito for a translation.

Juna nodded. “Yes, I accept this tinka as my bami,” she replied in the most formal speech she knew.

Ukatonen turned to the tinka. “I ask you one last time: will you accept this new creature as your sitik?”

The tinka’s ears flicked up and back as it agreed to accept Juna as its sitik.

“It is decided. The formal ceremony will take place after we arrive at Narmolom,” Ukatonen said. He dropped back into casual language and posture. “I saw a tree with some ripe trangin on it back that way. Please go and gather some of them while Anito and I hunt.”

Juna and the tinka returned with a bulging sack of the spiny orange fruit. The tinka also found some edible fern shoots and stuffed a leaf packet with fat, wriggling grubs. Anito and Ukatonen had killed a large ground lizard with a long, flexible snout, black in color with beautiful golden stripes across its hindquarters. Juna had seen them before; they ranged over the jungle floor in herds of up to a dozen, scavenging fallen fruit from the forest floor.

The evening meal was a feast. Ukatonen and Anito took turns pressing delicacies on the tinka. It ate until its stomach was hugely distended. The two older aliens gorged themselves as well. Juna was a bit more hesitant, especially about the wriggling grubs, which proved to be surprisingly rich and tasty. The trangin, which smelled vile when broken open, also proved delicious.

By the next day, the tinka was able to travel on its own, clinging to Juna only when it was too tired to keep up the pace. That afternoon, in the midst of a heavy rain, they crossed the flooded stream that marked the southwest boundary of the territory encompassed by Anito’s village. Anito flushed a joyous turquoise, and let out a booming call. They paused while she listened intently. At last came a distant reply. Anito looked back inquiringly at Ukatonen.

“Go on ahead. We’ll follow you,” Ukatonen said, rippling mild amusement at Anito’s eagerness. Anito leaped through the canopy, and was soon lost to sight, although her loud cries were clearly audible. Juna thought that she saw a faint cloud of regret pass briefly over Ukatonen.

“What’s the matter, en?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Ukatonen replied, his words yellow-edged with irritation. “It’s been a long trip. It will be good to rest.”

They continued through the treetops in the pouring rain. Wide areas of the lowlands were already flooded. Near the river, the lower branches of the canopy were barely out of the water. They had to move carefully there, for the branches were crowded with stinging insects and poisonous snakes which had climbed up into the canopy to escape the rising water.

“They will be leaving very soon for the coast,” Ukatonen reflected. “It is good that we got here when we did.”

About an hour later, a crashing of branches heralded Anito’s return. “I’ve spoken with Hinato. She will let the village know that we’re on our way. We should be there by tomorrow night, if we hurry.”

Laughter flickered over Ukatonen at Anito’s desire to be off. “We’ll do our best. Please go on ahead of us if you wish.”

Thanks flashed over Anito’s back as she swung off in the direction of Narmolom.

Ukatonen shouldered his bag. “Let’s go,” he said. They set off after Anito and traveled until dark. They ate a simple meal of fruit, dried meat, honey, and seaweed, along with some pickled greens. Ukatonen gave the tinka extra-large portions. It tore into the food as though it was starving, despite a large breakfast and lunch, as well as several snacks during the day.

“You’d think that it hadn’t eaten for days!” Juna remarked.

“It’s healing, and it’s getting ready to become a bami. Both of those are good reasons to eat,” Ukatonen remarked.

“How does it become a bami, en?”

“Normally, an elder links with the tinka and transforms it, but you don’t know how. I will perform the transformation for you.”

“Thank you, en.”

The enkar looked down and then back up at Juna. “I will become the tinka’s sitik when you leave. It is right that I should be the one to transform it.”

“I hope—” Juna started to say something, then stopped.

“What?” Ukatonen prompted.

“I was concerned that I had caused trouble for you. If I were a Tendu, then I wouldn’t have gone back to save the tinka’s life. I wouldn’t have caused so much trouble.”

“Living is trouble, death is easy,” Ukatonen replied. “The tinka was brave and determined. If you had been a Tendu, there would have been no trouble.”

“Won’t caring for the tinka after I’m gone be a burden?”

Amusement flowed over Ukatonen’s body, glowing in the darkness. “Only a light one. Enkar sometimes adopt a bami. This tinka will lighten my loneliness when you go. For that I thank you.”

“What is an enkar? What do you do that sets you apart from other Tendu?” Juna asked.

“We travel from village to village and help with difficult problems, ones that the villagers cannot solve themselves. Sometimes an outsider is needed to make difficult decisions. Because of this, the enkar do not belong to any village. We are always alone.” Ukatonen looked away, out into the velvety darkness of the jungle. The constant clamor of the forest sounded suddenly loud. “It is late, and we have done much today. It is time to sleep,” Ukatonen said. “We will start early tomorrow.”

With that, the subject was closed. Juna got up and settled herself beside the tinka, under a pile of fresh leaves. For a while she listened to the noise of the jungle. Then the weight of her day’s travel descended upon her, and she fell asleep.

Ukatonen woke them before dawn. They ate a scant and hurried breakfast, and were on their way as the first pale fingers of light cut through the dense, wet morning fog. As they drew near the village, Juna began to recognize subtle indications of heavy use in this area of the jungle: tree limbs whose bark was worn smooth from the passage of many hands and feet, patches of tree ferns that showed signs of heavy foraging. A couple of months ago, she would never have noticed these things. This patch of jungle would have seemed the same as any other.

Several elders came to greet the travelers, and escorted them the last couple of kilometers. When they reached the village tree, everyone hailed them enthusiastically, draping Ukatonen and Juna with garlands of flowers and greenery. A few garlands were even draped around the neck of the tinka. They were washed and led to a large, ceremonious feast of welcome in the bowl of the great tree crotch. Anito’s skin was alive with chatter as she caught up with the news of the village. It was clear that she was extremely pleased to be among her own people again.

It is time to begin the tinka’s transformation,” Ukatonen declared, the evening following their arrival in Narmolom.

Anito straightened, ears wide. She hadn’t expected the transformation to take place so soon.

The tinka held out its arms, ears wide and quivering with excitement.

Ukatonen held his arms out to Eerin and lifted his ears inquisitively. “Eerin?” he offered.

Eerin flared orange when she realized what he was asking.

“Please,” she pleaded. “Is it absolutely necessary?”

Ukatonen nodded. “Do you wish to change your mind about the adoption?”

The tinka looked anxiously at Eerin. Anito suppressed a flash of hope. Perhaps the new creature would back out now. It would be tragic for the tinka, of course, but it would be the new creature’s fault for encouraging it in the first place.

The adoption still felt terribly wrong to Anito, but she couldn’t prevent it without the support of the other villagers. Protesting a decision made by the enkar who was to choose Narmolon’s new chief was unthinkable, especially for those elders who wanted to be chief. Besides, everyone was busy preparing for the journey downriver. They didn’t have time for this.

Anito hesitated for another reason. If an enkar’s formal decision was wrong, he or she paid for it with their life. If Anito managed to prove that Ukatonen’s decision was wrong, then he would be forced to take his own life. There had been too much death already. Anito couldn’t bring herself to initiate a fight that might lead to Ukatonen’s death.

“No,” Eerin said. “I don’t want to change my mind about adopting the tinka, but I don’t wish to link unless I have to.”

“I understand,” Ukatonen told her. “Do you understand that if you adopt this tinka, you will need to link with it?”

“Yes,” Eerin replied, “but I don’t want to link unless it’s necessary. Is it necessary for me to link now?”

“Yes, it is. Will you join the link?”

“Yes, en.”

“All right then,” he said holding out his arms. “Anito, will you join us?”

Anito flickered acknowledgment and joined spurs with them. Fear sang through Eerin, like the vibrations in a tightrope that has been plucked. The tinka grasped Ukatonen’s arm eagerly, and reached for Eerin. The new creature suppressed her fear and grasped the tinka’s arm. They descended into the link. Ukatonen reached out to soothe Eerin. When she was calm, his presence moved through the tinka, exploring its immature body. Anito noticed the beginnings of deterioration in the joints, in the immune system, and in its vital organs. Had the tinka stayed in Lyanan, it would almost certainly have lost its place in the village to a younger, stronger tinka in less than a year.

Ukatonen’s presence hovered momentarily around the tinka’s tiny, undeveloped sexual organs, exploring. The tinka was male, another strike against it, particularly in a village where food would be in short supply for the next few years. Unripe eggs laid by female bami were a source of critical nutrients for the developing tadpoles. As a result, female tinka were more sought after as bami than male tinka. Clearly the tinka’s desperation had made him stake his life on Eerin’s acceptance.