West of Eden

There was only a narrow walkway around the model, so the ever-attentive fargi were forced to remain outside, straining to see in through the doorway, telling each other how wonderful the model was, admiring the size of the transparent ceiling that filtered the sunlight to a golden glow.

Vaintè had reached the far side of the model now where Sokain was working with her assistants. Vaintè was upon them before Sokain was aware of her presence.

“Welcome, Eistaa, welcome,” she said hurriedly standing up, speaking, brushing mud from her knees — and holding onto a bulbous orange creature at the same time.

“Do not let me disturb your work,” Vaintè said.

“It is completed. The transfer of measurements has been made.”

“And this is what you use,” Vaintè pointed to the orange animal. “I have never seen a creature of this kind before.”

Sokain held out the orange chiton case for Vaintè’s inspection. Other than a tiny mouth and sealed eyes it was featureless, except for a tube on top and a number of indentations down the side.

“Explain,” Vaintè ordered, for as Eistaa there was no small detail of the city that she must not know. Sokain pointed to the bare ground where the model was being enlarged, to small slivers of wood that had been pushed into it.

“Those bits of wood correspond to the stakes we used in the survey. When we are in the field I place this measuring creature upon a marked spot in the ground and look through this tube at a stake which is a certain distance away. When this is done I press the indentations to inform the instrument to remember the angle and distance. I then turn the tube to another stake and do the same. This is done many times. When I return to the model the instrument-creature informs us of the scaled down distance between stakes and of the correct angles between them as well. The result — this model.”

“Excellent. What are these curved cha

“Waterways, Eistaa. On this side of the city we have found a great deal of swamp. We are now plotting its extent.”

Vaintè displayed concern. “We need many more fields. Can these swamps be drained or filled?”

“I do not think so. But Akasest, who has improved the quality of the feed for the herds, has examined them as well and we are now pla

“A satisfactory solution and utilization of the environment. You are both to be commended.”

“Our pleasure is to serve Alpèasak,” Sokain said formally, expressing great personal pleasure at the same time.

Much later, Vaintè was to remember this conversation, for it was the last time that she was ever to speak to the surveyor.

Like all of her days, this was a full one. As the city expanded so did the work — and with it the decisions that had to be made. By the time that the shadows were getting long she became aware of her fatigue and waved the attentive fargi away, then signaled Kerrick for a drinking fruit. There was one attached to a saptree close by and he prodded the green bulb until the suckers let go. He brought it to Vaintè who opened its orifice and drank the cool, sweet water inside. When she lowered it she saw Stallan hurrying across the ambesed, shouldering fargi aside in her haste. Vaintè knew that there was trouble, knew it as clearly as if the hunter had spoken aloud.

“Tell me,” Vaintè ordered as Stallan hurried up.

“The survey party, Sokain and her assistants, they have not returned — and it is almost nightfall.”

“Have they been this late before?”

“No. My orders are specific. There is a party of armed guards with them who bring them back at this time each day.”

“Then this is the first time that they have not returned at the specified time?”

“Yes.”

“What can be done?”

“Nothing until morning.”

Vaintè was possessed by a sense of disaster, and all those present shared it. “I will want a very large armed party ready to leave at dawn. I will lead it.”

Vaintè was awake when the first light filtered through the trees. Fargi were sent to summon Kerrick. He yawned and stretched and followed after the Eistaa, still not completely awake. Vaintè had not summoned Alakensi but she came along as well. Eager as always to see anything that she might report on to Malsas‹. Stallan and the armed guards were already boarding the boats when they arrived at the river’s edge. This was not Kerrick’s first ride in a boat, but he still found the creatures fascinating. This one had just been fed and the legs and tail of a baby alligator were still hanging from its mouth. The creature’s little eyes, set under the shell, bulged slightly as the wet skin contracted with effort and the rest of the alligator vanished from sight. He climbed aboard with the others. The pilot bent and shouted a command into the boat’s ear opening. The flesh beneath them began to pump rhythmically and jet out water. The small flotilla moved out into the stream beneath the blood-red dawn sky.

Stallan was in the lead boat, showing the way. Fields moving slowly by on each side, the animals there either fleeing from them, or looking on with gross stupidity at their passage. Beyond the drained fields were carefully preserved and fenced areas of swamp. Large trees that were well-rooted in the mud had been left standing and were co

One of their young, already bigger than a mastodon, cried out shrilly as it splashed and swam to safety when the boats passed close. Kerrick had never been to this part of the city before so he carefully memorized the course that they were following.

When they had passed the last field the uncleared swamp began; Stallan led the small flotilla into a narrow cha

They went slower now, wending their way through ever narrower cha

“This is where they were working,” she called out.

The silence closed in when Stallan stopped speaking. A bird flew by overhead cackling loudly, but there was no other sound. Nor was there anything to see. The guards clutched at their weapons, looking about in all directions. Nothing. It was Vaintè who broke the deadly silence.

“They must be found. Spread out through these cha

Kerrick had good eyesight and caught the movement first.

“There!” he called out. “In that waterway. I saw something move.”

Every weapon was pointed that way in an instant, until Stallan commanded them to be raised.

“You will be shooting and killing each other. Or me. I’m going in there. Point your hèsotsan some other way.”

Her boat slipped forward slowly, Stallan standing with one foot on the thing’s shell, peering ahead into the leaf-shrouded darkness.

“It’s all right,” she called back. “It’s one of our own boats.” Then, after a long moment of silence, she added reluctantly, “It’s empty.”

The other boat shivered when her boat bumped against it, shivered even more when Stallan jumped into it. It took shouted commands, and a good kicking, before the boat backed away from the bank. As it approached the other boats Stallan was silent — but her pointing finger was explanation enough.