Then it was time for dinner, which everyone ate with laughter and bright conversation. Alea noticed a great deal of flirting and wondered if perhaps some of the pairings weren’t really settled yet. She did see some jealous glances and wondered if the colony would survive until its members had sorted out who should stay with whom.
“What if you find you’re paired with someone you don’t like after all,” she asked Sylvia, “or if you fall out of love?”
“Oh, that happens all the time when you’re our age,” Sylvia said. “If two people can’t get along or the woman falls in love with somebody else, she just puts the man’s gear outside the door and that’s the end of it.”
“The end?” Alea stared. “Doesn’t the man object?”
“Of course not.” Sylvia looked at her strangely. “The house is the woman’s, after all.”
“Even though the man built it?”
“We all build the houses,” Sylvia said. “Isn’t that how it’s done in your homeland?”
“No, it’s not,” Alea said, “but I’m beginning to think it should be. What if it’s the man who falls out of love?”
“Oh, then he takes his things and moves into the bachelors’ house,” Sylvia said. “That’s what the other longhouse is for.”
All in all, Alea liked the system.
When dinner was done, she volunteered to help the dozen people who did the washing up and putting away while someone brought out a small set of bagpipes and others brought out flutes and fiddles. The young folk danced for an hour or more, laughing and chatting and flirting. Then as the sky darkened, they went indoors—some to the bachelors’ house, many couples to the main longhouse.
“There is one dwelling for two still empty,” Crel offered.
“No, thank you,” Gar said in his oldest voice. “I think my daughter would rather sleep by herself. Wouldn’t you, my dear?”
“Of course I would, Papa,” Alea said demurely while she directed a thought at Gar—that it was a very good thing he hadn’t accepted the first invitation.
He looked up at her in surprise; then his eyes crinkled in amusement. He disguised it by covering his mouth for a yawn.
“Yes, I don’t manage late nights as well as I used to. A bed would be very welcome right now.”
Alea noticed that he hadn’t said whose.
Alea woke in the night, wondering what had roused her. She looked around the small room the young folk had given her—the glow of starshine through the window and the answering glow from the hearth both illuminating a small table with a jug and a basin, the chair beside it with her clothes draped over it, and the great eyes with crinkled corners that seemed to glow in the darkness of the room.
Alea sat bolt upright, fear churning upward to become a scream—but before it emerged, she recognized the huge globe of fur and the toothy grin. She relaxed somewhat and thought, So you can come indoors, too. I thought you were creatures of the forest.
This village is very much in the forest, Evanescent reminded her. If it were in a town, now, there might have been somebody awake, and I would have had to have been much more circumspect.
Alea had a notion that in that case, “circumspect” would have meant lulling people to sleep telepathically. You could give a body some warning. I can’t breathe well with my heart in my throat.
You know I mean you no harm. Evanescent seemed spectacularly undisturbed by the notion. Besides, rapid heartbeats and deepened breathing increase the health of your kind.
Only when they come from exercise, Alea thought caustically. It seemed amazing to her that she hadn’t thought of the native alien since their first encounter. Why, she might have forgotten Evanescent completely!
Then she realized that she had.
I don’t like anyone playing with my mind, she thought, keeping the anger an undertone.
What of your heart? Evanescent replied. Do you still deny that the big one is your mate?
I deny it most strenuously! Even Alea thought that was a strange word, but it was out and there was no helping it.
Then why do you aid him so?
I don’t aid him—I’m sharing his adventures and letting him aid me!
To what purpose?
To learn—to see new things—to meet new kinds of people! The glory of it seized Alea all over again—the tremendous excitement of actually being on a different world!
What have you learned, then?
A fantastic amount. The whole complex of new and strange ways of thinking and behaving jumped into Alea’s mind in an instant. She tried to steady them, to focus them; the easiest was to say what she hadn’t learned. But we still have not found their government.
What a strange concept that is! Evanescent marveled. Ordering and making methodical the ways of living beings! Is it not simpler to let each follow her own path?
People don’t work that way; Alea explained. We’re social creatures—we have to have others of our kind about. Strange, very strange. Evanescent seemed delighted by the notion. But why is your mate so upset not to find this government that he sees as some sort of great barren tree?
He thinks it is the only way to save people from famine, disease, and oppression. Without it, he sees only that strong people will hurt weaker people and make them miserable.
There is some truth to that, Evanescent mused, but a government like that which General Malachi wishes to make would hurt and oppress people even more.
Gar thinks that is what happens where there is no better form of government to stop such a man.
Ah! His true concern, then, is to prevent the suffering of his fellow creatures! Why … yes, I suppose so. Alea hadn’t thought of it in quite that way before.
And he seeks to protect the people from such as General Malachi, Evanescent thought, exulting. He must seek out the Scarlet Company then.
He has tried, Alea thought. He cannot find it.
Find it for him, then. The alien grinned, sending shivers down Alea’s spine. What kind of mate are you?
Not a mate at all! Alea fairly screamed—in her mind, of course.
Seek to find the Scarlet Company for him, Evanescent advised, but seek to know your own heart first.
The coals flared up on the hearth and Alea turned to look at them, heart pounding—but the flame died down as quickly as it had risen, and she sagged back onto the strange bed, wondering that so minor a thing should have wakened her. Well, she could find sleep again easily enough. She looked around the small, empty room once, to remind herself where she was, then rolled over on her side and closed her eyes.
There was an undercurrent of excitement at breakfast the next day. When they were done eating, people circulated, talking with one another, and Alea began to feel guilty. Finally she went to Sylvia and said, “We’re planning to go on with our journey. Your people really mustn’t stay home just for us.”