Nia said, “Truly, the world is changing. I meet people who mate in summer, and a holy man now appears, who is willing to leave his holy location and travel with ordinary folk. No.” She looked at me and Derek. “I don’t mean ordinary folk. I mean, people who aren’t holy.”
“Well,” said Derek in English. “Does he travel with us?”
“Why not?” I looked at Nia and spoke in the language of gifts. “What do you think about him?”
“We can’t leave him alone on the plain. He’s as helpless as a child or an old woman. Moreover, he is holy. If we abandon him, the spirits will be angry. There is no question about it. He must come with us.”
Derek nodded and got up. “I’m going back up to watch. Get some sleep, Lixia. I’ll wake you later.”
He woke me after midnight, and I kept watch. It was cool and still except for the noise the bugs made in the pseudo-grass. Toward morning I woke Nia. She got up, and I went back to sleep.
In the morning we went on. Nia and the oracle rode. I joined Derek on the ground. The trail wound among hills. There was plenty of rock here: cliffs and outcroppings and boulders, all black and rough. The valleys were grassy. Now and then we saw a flock of bipeds: the pseudo-dinosaurs. Most were about a meter tall and bright turquoise-blue.
“It’s a beautiful planet,” Derek said as he walked next to me.
“Yes.”
“What’s the line from Donne? ‘O my America, my newfound land!’ Of course, he was talking about a woman. A new mistress.
“Derek, how do you manage to be so literate?”
He glanced over, grinning. “Hard work, my love. And a very high intelligence.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He laughed. “Anyway, I feel the way Columbus must have. Or stout Cortez, silent on his peak in Darien. What a discovery! What a planet!” He swept out one hand, waving at the hills and the blue-green sky. A pseudo-dinosaur screamed and ran away.
Nia looked back. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Derek likes this country.”
“I don’t.”
“Why not?”
She stopped and glanced around. “I don’t remember it. I have taken a wrong turn somewhere. This isn’t the trail I wanted.”
The oracle made the gesture that meant “don’t worry.” “The spirit will guide us.”
“That may be.”
In the afternoon the sky got cloudy. Toward evening rain began to falclass="underline" a light drizzle. We made camp in a grove of trees. Derek shot a pseudo-dinosaur. Nia cleaned it. The Voice of the Waterfall and I went looking for wood.
After dinner I called the ship. A computer answered. It had a cool, pleasant female voice with a very slight Russian accent.
“No humans are available at present,” it said. “You may report to me.”
I did.
The computer thanked me and said the information would be relayed to the appropriate people. “I am a level-six program,” it explained. “My intelligence is a construct and—do I mean or?—an illusion. I am therefore not a person, according to the current definition of the term.”
“Do you mind?” I asked.
“That is not a meaningful question, at least when addressed to me. I neither think nor feel. I do what I am told to do.”
I thought I heard sarcasm in the courteous even voice. But that was hardly likely. Why would anyone write sarcasm into a level-six program?
I turned the radio off, lay down, and listened to the rain pattering on the leaves above me.
The morning was overcast. Nia said, “You ride today, Li-sa. I want to find out how my ankle is doing.”
“My feet still hurt,” the oracle said. “They are covered with blisters.”
Derek laughed. “Don’t worry. You can have the other bowhorn.”
Rain began to fall, and mist hid the distances. We traveled through grayness, up a long slope. Sometime around noon we reached the top. There was a level area, then a drop-off. We were on the rim of a valley. I reined my animal. The valley floor was visible in spite of the mist. The ground was bare and bright orange.
Derek sniffed. “Rotten eggs or sulfur. I think we can assume geothermal activity.” He spoke a mixture of English and the language of gifts. I could understand everything, but our companions looked puzzled.
After a moment Nia said, “I don’t know what kind of activity you are talking about. But I don’t like the look of this valley. Or the smell for that matter.”
Derek glanced to the side. “Don’t worry. We aren’t going down. The trail goes along the rim.”
We followed the trail. The rain stopped. The clouds lifted. I could see the valley clearly. It was shallow and more or less circular. The entire floor was brightly colored: orange, orange-red, and yellow. Here and there plumes of white rose. Steam. The plumes moved, blown by the wind. In the middle of the valley was a lake: round and dark. Derek kept looking at it.
“Something isn’t right. The lake is peculiar.”
“I can believe that,” Nia said. “This land is peculiar.” She used the same word Derek had. It meant “unusual,” “unexpected,” “wrong.” After a moment she went on. “I don’t remember any of this. I am certain we’re on the wrong trail, though I don’t know how that is possible. I have a good memory and a good sense of direction. I never get lost.”
I twisted in the saddle. She was trudging next to me. Her feet were muddy, and her fur was wet. Her tunic clung to her body. “What shall we do?”
Nia made the gesture of uncertainty.
“Keep going,” the oracle said from behind me. “The Spirit of the Waterfall will see to it that we arrive in the right place.”
“What a comfort!” Derek said.
We came finally to a place where the valley wall was low. A slope led down toward the orange and yellow floor. At the top the slope was covered with vegetation: little bushes and a lot of pseudo-grass. Farther down the ground was bare. A dark line wound across it: another trail, narrower than ours, less well used, going into the valley.
Derek stopped. I reined my animal.
The oracle rode up beside me. “What is it?” he asked.
“I think we ought to make camp.”
“Here?” I asked.
Derek made the gesture of affirmation.
I looked around. On one side of me was the slope. On the other side was an outcropping of rock, black and massive. The trail—the main trail—led past it. There was nothing else. No wood except the little bushes and no evidence of water. “Why?” I asked.
“We aren’t going to make it down off the rim before night, and I haven’t seen any places that are better than this.”
“He’s right,” said Nia. “That rock has an overhang. It ought to protect us, if it rains, and there is forage for the animals. I admit I would like some fresh water. The water in our bags is getting stale. But when a person travels without her village, she must take what she can get.”
“And be grateful for it,” said the oracle.
Nia made the gesture of agreement.
I dismounted. The oracle did the same. I stretched up as high as I was able, then bent over. I could barely touch the ground. I brushed it with my fingertips and straightened up, breathing in at the same time. More exercise! This expedition was no excuse for getting lazy.
The oracle said, “He wants to go into the valley.”