"We as well," Kajpin said, standing with Tiyat.
"I also offer you my neck," said Rukuei Kitheri, from the ground. "But you will have to go to Isaac, for he will not come to you. We can take you to him, but you have to trust us. Some of us believe that Isaac has learned the music of the True Mind, which you sought, but he will not come to you to teach it."
"Lies," Sandoz said at last. "You say what we wish to hear—"
"How could we know what you wish to hear?" Tiyat cried.
With a sudden short gasp, Sandoz staggered to his feet and walked a few paces away, his back to them all. "Let him up, Nico," he snapped, but did not turn, unable to sustain the pose any longer. He felt sick, and he needed time to think. "Watch them," he flung back over his shoulder, and strode away.
IT WAS HARD TO SAY WHICH GROUP WAS MORE RELIEVED TO SEE SANDOZ go, but with his intimidating presence removed from their midst, there was a distinct lessening of strain all around.
"It would be a shame to let that froyil go to waste," Shetri commented to Joseba Urizarbarrena once Sandoz was out of hearing, and the hunter in Joseba agreed. So a fire was prepared, and the froyil gutted and hung on a spit, and other provisions brought from the boat by Tiyat, under guard. As meat and vegetables roasted, Sean and Joseba and even Nico questioned hard, and listened hard, and considered at some length what they had been told: whether it was accurate, and what it might imply. In the end, they went to Sandoz.
He was a few hundred meters away, sitting hunched and haggard on the ground. "Nico, why aren’t you watching them, as you were told?" he demanded, hiding behind as much severity as he could still muster.
"They don’t want to run away. They’re waiting for us to go with them," Nico said mildly. "Don Emilio, I had a thought: if we find out where Isaac lives, Signora Sofia will be pleased." The pistol was still in his hand and he kept an eye on his charges, just in case. "Don Carlo will know where we are," he said, glancing at the small lump on his forearm where the GPS transmitter capsule was lodged. "We have guns, and they don’t."
"We’re not going anywhere with them. We’re waiting here for Sofia’s escort," Sandoz said, not moving from the ground.
Joseba looked at Sean and then said, "Nico, would you please get Don Emilio some water? Perhaps a little something very plain to eat?" Nico nodded and trudged off toward the camp as Joseba sat down across from Emilio. "Sandoz, do you have any idea what the population of the Jana’ata was, when you were here before?" he asked.
Sandoz shrugged, eyes dull, not really caring that it was starting to rain again. "No. I don’t know. Except that it was about three or four percent of the prey population. Maybe six hundred thousand? That’s just guess." He looked at Joseba. "Why do you ask?"
Sean and Joseba exchanged glances, and Sean sat down as well. "Listen, Sandoz, the buggers may be lying, but that Rukuei says there’re only about fifteen hundred Jana’ata left now." Sandoz looked up sharply and Sean went on. "The Runa’ve rousted them all off the land. They’re scattered, but there’re two main groups of several hundred apiece, plus some pockets of survivors too scared t’go near anyone else. The VaN’Jarri live in a valley on their own. They’ve got barely three hundred Jana’ata among them, with about six hundred Runa in the same settlement."
Joseba leaned forward. "Carnivores generally need at least two thousand individuals, with two hundred and fifty breeding pairs, just to keep the population genetically healthy. Even if Rukuei is underestimating the total, the Jana’ata are very close to extinction," he whispered, as though to speak aloud of this prediction would make it come true. "If he’s overestimating it, they’re probably doomed." He sat for a while, working it through. "It makes sense, Sandoz. From what we’ve seen and what Shetri says, the Jana’ata must be living at the absolute margins of their ecological range. Even without the collapse of civilization, this species would be on the edge."
"There’s more," Sean said, a little loudly now that the rain had begun in earnest. "There’s something goin’ on up in the north. I had t’ask twice t’be sure of what I was hearin’, but when we asked about them eatin’ that froyil, one of them—that Shetri—told us the VaN’Jarri Jana’ata are near t’starvin’. They won’t eat Runa." Sandoz looked at him, narrow-eyed. "Brace yersalf: the phrase he used was, The meat’s not kosher." Sandoz reared back, and Sean raised a hand. "I swear that’s what he said. Apparently this man Shetri’s wife, Hanala or whatever her name is, was raised by Sofia Mendes in the south, among the Runa."
Joseba said, "Obviously, there has been a certain amount of cultural exchange. Shetri says his wife is a teacher, but Sandoz—the title he used was ’rabbi’. It’s possible that these men are simply lying about not eating Runa, but look at them! They’re thin, their coats are dull, they’re missing teeth—"
"And they’re travelin’ with two fine, fat Runa, who don’t seem a bit concerned about becomin’ anybody’s breakfast." Sean hesitated before going on. "And, Sandoz," he said, "listenin’ t’this Kitheri? Well, it seems to me that Hanala may be a sort of… I don’t know, but I ask myself, What if Moses had been an Egyptian, raised among the Hebrews?"
Sandoz sat open-mouthed, trying to take this in. "You’re serious?" he asked, and when Sean nodded, Sandoz cried, "Oh, for God’s sake!"
"Precisely," Joseba agreed, and watched without moving as Sandoz stood, soaked to the skin.
"You’re hearing what you want to hear!" Sandoz accused. "You’re imposing your own folklore on this culture!"
"Perhaps we are," Joseba agreed, from his seat in the mud, "but I came here as both an ecologist and a priest. I want to know about this. I am going north with them, Sandoz. Sean wants to go, too. You can stay here with Nico and wait for Sofia’s people to arrive. All we ask is that you don’t give them away. We’ll take our chances with them—"
With Nico’s approach, they fell silent and watched as Sandoz drank water from the canteen and got a little food into himself, refusing to discuss this nonsense further.
But Nico, ordinarily the quietest of them, had something on his mind. "Don Emilio, one of those Jana people has a bad dream like yours," he said, wiping his wet hair back out of his eyes. Sandoz stared at him, and Nico continued, "He dreams of a city burning. He told me. It’s from when he was a little boy, he says, but he’s seen you there. In the city. In his dream. I think you should ask him about it."
WHICH IS WHY, AFTER CONSIDERABLE ADDITIONAL INTERROGATION AND discussion, eight people of three species finally went north together in secrecy and foul weather. They did not tell Carlo Giuliani of their decision, concerned that the radio was being monitored by the Gayjur government. Knowing now the danger the VaN’Jarri were in, it was Joseba’s suggestion that they remove their GPS implants—a small cut each, nothing to be concerned about.
They intended to travel as quickly and inconspicuously as they could, but if anyone questioned them, their story would be simple. The foreigners were friends to Fia. Shetri and Rukuei were VaHaptaa mercenaries who were leading these Runa and the foreigners to the last stronghold of the predators who’d preyed on the Runa since time began. When the place was known, the army could come and clean the last of the djanada out, and then they would be gone, forever.
The VaN’Jarri believed that this was all merely a convincing lie. In fact, it was very nearly the precise truth.
Nico d’Angeli had not really understood what Joseba said about minimum breeding population and species collapse, nor had he followed much of the talk of revolution or religion. But Nico understood very well what Frans had told him before landfall. "I can’t find you if you take the GPS implant out, Nico. The people on the Magellan were all lost—no one knows what happened to them, capisce? Never remove this, Nico. As long as you have a transmitter with you, I can find you."