“My advice to Angai is—make them welcome. But do it carefully. O my people! Think about what you are doing!”
The oracle stepped forward. “I don’t have much to say. My spirit is old and powerful. It has given good advice to the people of my village for many generations. It told me to go with these hairless people and learn from them. What they know is important, my spirit said.
“I have done this, traveling a long distance with Lixia and Deraku. We have met many people and also several spirits. Some bad things have happened, but not because of those two.”
I thought he was being kind. I had mishandled the meeting with Inahooli, and Derek had been irresponsible about the bracelet he had found in the old volcano.
Someone asked, “What kind of bad things?”
“We had trouble with the Trickster,” the oracle said. “You know what he is like. A malevolent troublemaker! He likes to turn people against one another. He likes to make them forget all the old customs and the right way to behave.
“And we met a spirit north of here, not far from the river. It was in a cave.” He paused. “It was one of those things that are found in dark places, usually underground. They have various names. The Old Ones. The Unseen. The Hungry.
“Most of the time, they aren’t a problem. They sleep in their dark place. Sometimes they wake up and notice people. Then they are likely to cause trouble—out of hunger or a stupid anger.” He paused. “I have forgotten what I was going to say.”
“I asked you to give your opinion of the hairless people,” Angai said. “But you went off about spirits.”
He made the gesture of agreement. “I can’t tell you what to do. You aren’t my people, and you have your own spirits to give advice. But I like Lixia and Deraku, and I don’t think these people without hair are dangerous.”
He stopped. Derek translated.
Eddie said, “Wrong!”
The square was darkening. People brought out poles made of metal and stuck them in the ground. They placed torches in brackets on the poles. The torches streamed in the wind, flaring and dimming. Most were close to Angai. She and Nia and the oracle were pretty well lit. But the light kept changing in intensity. Shadows jumped and flickered. Faces, hands, eyes, and metal ornaments went in and out of darkness.
“Nia has spoken clearly,” Angai said. “And the oracle is worth listening to, even if he is not always clear.”
A voice said, “What is your opinion? You are the shamaness here. These other people are strangers.”
“I will tell you.” She waited a moment. The bells on the standards went ching-ching in the wind. A baby cried briefly.
“I think Nia is right. We ought to welcome these people, as we have always welcomed strangers, not out of fear of the Dark One, but out of the respect for the spirits and for decent behavior.
“I think Nia is right in a second way. This is a time for changes. We cannot ignore the changes. When the ground shakes and old trails go in new directions, only a fool pretends she can travel the same way as before. The wise woman says, ‘This rock is new. That slope was not here last summer.’ ”
Angai straightened up to her full height. She looked around commandingly. “Listen to me! This is my decision! We will welcome the hairless people. But we will do it carefully. Like a wise traveler, we will go one step at a time.”
She paused. Derek translated.
Eddie said, “Damn!”
Angai went on. “The hairless people can stay in the village they have built so long as they remember that this is not their country. They are visitors.” She looked at us. “Do not move your village without asking permission, and do not ask more of your relatives to come and stay with you. I don’t want our country to fill up with hairless people.
“Nia says among your people men and women cannot be separated. Therefore—it is my decision—you can live in your village according to your customs. But when you visit us or any other ordinary people, leave your men at home.”
“Shit,” said Derek.
“I will not have men in this village again. It is too disturbing. The old women become angry. The children get new ideas.”
Angai stopped. Derek translated.
“This is good,” said Ivanova. “But not as good as I had hoped.” She paused for a moment. “It’s a beginning.”
“It stinks,” said Derek. “How can I do fieldwork? I have to be able to go into the villages!”
“Talk to the men,” I said.
“They’ll try to kill me.”
Angai went on. “Nia says you are going to want to travel all over and ask questions and look at things. Is she right? Is this true?”
“Yes,” I said.
Angai frowned. “I am not certain what to do about that. I do not want to find hairless people in every part of our country, turning over rocks and poking sticks into holes. It is hard enough to have children.” She paused. “Stay close to the village until I have had a chance to think more about this.”
Derek translated.
Eddie said, “This isn’t going to work.”
“Yes, it will,” said Mr. Fang. “They have the right to set these kinds of limits. We have the discipline to keep within the limits they have set.”
“What about Nia?” asked a voice.
“I have not decided,” Angai said.
“We have,” said the voice. “Ten winters ago we told her to leave. She has not changed. She was a pervert then. She is a pervert now. Look at the people she travels with! Tell her to go with them. Tell her to live in their village—not here, among people who know how to behave.”
The crowd parted. I saw the speaker now: a stocky woman of middle age. Her fur was medium brown and oddly dull. It soaked up light like clay.
“That is Anhar,” Nia said.
“I will ask the spirits what to do about Nia,” Angai said. “Not today. They don’t like a lot of questions all at once.”
“You have always liked Nia,” Anhar said. “You have always protected her. You are trying to bring her back into the village.”
Angai said, “You never know when to be quiet, Anhar. I am tired of your opinions! You have a little mind, full of nasty ideas. It is like a cheese eaten out by cheese bugs. It is like a dead animal eaten out by worms.”
“Wow,” said Derek.
Anhar turned. The crowd let her through. She walked away from Angai out of the torch-lit square. I lost sight of her in the darkness.
“What about the man?” another woman asked. “The Voice of the Waterfall?”
The oracle answered. “I am going to the village of the hairless people. My spirit told me to learn from them. I have not had any new dreams telling me to do anything else.”
Angai said, “I am done speaking. You have heard my decision. Do you agree with me? Or is there going to be an argument?”
There was silence. I had a sense that the people around me were unhappy. But no one was willing to speak.
At last someone said, “What did the spirits tell you, Angai?”
“I dreamed I was on a trail I did not recognize. The country around me was unfamiliar. The ground under my feet was hot. Smoke rose from holes. I could not see where I was going.”
“That does not sound like a good dream, Angai.”
The shamaness frowned. “I am not finished! There was an old woman with me. She had a fat belly and drooping breasts. She carried a staff and it seemed to me that she was having trouble walking. Sometimes she walked next to me. Sometimes ahead. Sometimes in back. She never left me. She made noises from time to time: grunts and moans. Most of the time she was silent. Once she was in back of me, and I thought I heard her stumble. I stopped and looked back. She said, ‘Keep going. Don’t worry about me. As old as I am, I will keep up with you.’ I went on. That was the end of the dream.”