"I survived. I will survive. I am needed."
"Good. I must talk with you, share my knowledge and you must query it. For I have fear."
"Of what?"
"Of everything."
There were such overtones of despair and death when she said this that Akotolp cried aloud and recoiled. Then controlled herself and spoke with all the courage she could summon.
"You are no longer alone, my old friend, no longer surrounded by mindless fargi you cannot speak to. Unburden yourself, share your knowledge and thoughts. Fears shared are halved, for we will each carry part of the load now."
"You are a Yilane of great intelligence and strength, Akotolp. I will tell you what I have seen and reasoned. Then you will query me, perhaps even prove me wrong. It is as you say, a burden shared. First I need information for I only saw what happened from afar. You were here?"
"Indeed — and it is only by chance I can talk to you now for only one in five survived. It was night — and then it was day. A light that hurt my eyes before slowly fading away. Later there was an immense sound and the ground moved. Later still, as I thought it would happen, the ocean rose and enveloped us."
"You thought it would — why?"
"A chain of logic. An incident of great force occurred, the light of which we saw. The sound came much later — and the shock. A force at sea great enough to cause this would also move the ocean as well."
Essokel signed reinforced agreement. "I did not see or experience what you did — though I surmised as much from physical evidence. Important query: what do you think caused all this?"
"Profess lack of knowledge, lack of theory."
"Then listen to mine. Have you any interest in astronomy?"
Akotolp signed negative. "Biology fills all my time and needs."
"But you have looked at the night sky — seen various phenomena there. You have seen the lines of light that cross the darkness from time to time?"
"Assuredly. Though I have never heard an attempt at explanation."
"I have. Our atmosphere grows thinner as one goes higher; this has been proven by those who carried air pressure devices up mountains. If this is true, then logic dictates that if the pressure drop is contin-uouAthen at a certain height there is no more air."
"I know of this theory and am in agreement. That air ceases to be and beyond our atmosphere there is a nothingness."
"But matter exists in this nothingness. We see the moon and the stars. Now hold that thought and in parallel entertain another thought. A bird moves faster than a fish because it moves through a less dense medium. If something moves through a medium of no density it could have a speed beyond comprehension. So much so that if there are particles of matter moving through this emptiness, small particles, through the operation of the laws of dynamics they would exchange motion for temperature. And glow with light."
Akotolp closed her eyes, wrapped in intense thought. Opened them and signed agreement. "I cannot argue with facts revealed, extrapolation of idea. Seek relevance."
Essokel was grimly silent for a long heartbeat of time, then spoke quietly. "I suggest to you the possibility that a larger particle from above might strike our atmosphere. A particle the size of a boulder, a tree — perhaps a mountain. What would happen then?"
"Then," Akotolp said, slowly and carefully, "this mountain of speed would cause the air to glow fiercely. It would strike the ocean. If it were large enough, fast enough, heavy enough, it might even strike down through the water to hit the ground below. This immense shock would be felt through the ground, heard through the air for great distances. The mountains of water pushed aside would inundate the shore, this land. I am in awe of your wisdom and intellect."
"There is more to come. The clouds that have never parted once since that day, the clouds that rain down dirt, that are black with filth undoubtedly thrown up by the impact. How many days have they remained up there?"
"A great number. I have kept count."
"As have I. Now, one last fearful consideration. What if they remain there longer and longer? What if the warmth of the sun never bathes us again? What will happen to us then?"
Akotolp the biologist swayed in pain, almost lost consciousness at the terror of this thought. Recovered to find that Essokel was holding her, that she would have fallen without her friend's support.
"Death will be our lot. Without sunlight the green plants will not grow. When they die the creatures who eat them die. When they die— the Yilane die. Is this what is to happen?"
"I do not know, I fear for the worst. I have measured carefully. The air temperature is lower each day. We cannot live without heat, without sun."
"The clouds must part!" Akotolp cried aloud. "They must. Or…"
She did not finish the thought. There was no need. It was Essokel who finally broke the terrible silence.
"We will go to the city now. And tell the Eistaa. .?"
"Nothing. If these things we talk about come to be, then we are helpless, powerless. Instead of bringing them death you will now bring them happiness and pleasure. There will be warmth, shelter, food. If… what we discussed. . comes to pass, it will not need discussion. It will soon be obvious to the stupidest fargi."
Akotolp was correct; Essokel and the burdens her fargi carried brought civilization and great happiness back to the city. Hesotsan for hunting, the pleasure of sweet warm meat for all. There were many cloaks in the bundles, for the expedition had been through the mountain passes where the air was chill. They were needed now: the nights were growing colder, and these flat brainless cloak-creatures if kept well fed had high body temperatures. All the city leaders had cloaks and slept well. The fargi did not and could only huddle together at night, draw warmth from one another and shudder in silence.
But the pleasure could not last. Even the stupidest fargi, fresh from the sea and unable to talk, could see that the nights were growing colder, days as well. The fish were no longer as plentiful as they had been. The clouds did not part, the sun did not shine, the plants were dying. The animals they ate were leaner and tougher as the grazing grew harder. Still they ate very well, for the enzyme vats were kept filled with meat. Which was a very bad sign indeed, for they were not being killed — they were dying. This was the time when the Eistaa summoned the two scientists to join her in the ambesed where she waited with Velikrei.
"Listen to what this hunter tells me," the Eistaa said, darkness in her speech.
"The onetsensast that they butcher now, that goes into the meat vats. It is the last one. All others — dead, the fields empty."
"What is happening — what is going to happen?" the Eistaa asked. "You are Yilane of science, you must know."
"We know," Akotolp said, fighting to keep calmness in her words and motions. "We will tell you, Eistaa." The hunter did not see her quick motion of pointing and dismissal.
"You have brought the information, Velikrei. Return to your forest."
Akotolp waited until the three of them were alone before she spoke. Now she made no attempt to keep the dread and despair from her speech.
"It is the sun that brings us life, Eistaa. If the sun does not shine we die. The clouds kill us."
"I see wiai is happening — yet I do not understand."
"There is a chain of life," Essokel said. "It starts in the cells of the plants, where the sun's rays are turned into food. The fish and the ustuzou eat them and live. We in turn eat their flesh — and we live." She leaned down and pulled a clump of yellowed grass from the ground and held it out. "This dies, they die, we die."
The Eistaa looked at the grass, immobile, her muscles locked hard as the thought echoed again and again in her brain. In the end she turned J;o Akotolp and signed a short query.