"You're good at not answering questions," she said. "I suppose you don't want to tell me your name, but give me something to call you; I dislike very much having to say hey you when I want your attention, even if it's only implied. My name is Shadith."
He walked to the door, pulled it shut, came back and settled onto the dirt beside her. "Shadith," he said. "Does it have a meaning?"
"It's the name my mother gave me, it doesn't need a meaning. Very good at avoiding answers."
"In this place, answers kill people. Side-stepping becomes a habit which one means to keep well honed." His eyes drooped half-shut. "Need one say, Kwantawiyal knew one not." A quick flowing gesture, his hand sweeping from head level toward the floor. "I am not so memorable a man as to make recognition immediate. However…" With a wry twist to his mouth, he spread his hands, dropped them on his knees. "One is called Asteplikota, Aste for those who prefer less of a mouthful. It is one's personal name. Since one's family has cast one out, it is the only name I own."
"Aste it is." She blinked sleepily at him. "I did notice that you didn't seem to fit very well with Silvercreep and his collection of sweepings."
"I'm flattered. Silvercreep?"
"He was loaded with it."
Asteplikota chuckled. "In every sense."
"True. Well?"
"Doing it again, eh?" He shook his head. "Ah, habit. Someone I owe a favor wanted an agent he could trust to act for him; he said he'd heard rumors something important was going to happen and he'd bought rights to be in on it from Kwantawiyal… urn… Silvercreep. One does like that name, it catches so nicely the essence of the man." A brief smile, charming, shy. His voice was quiet, musing, a pleasant gravelly tenor, its roughness comfortable like a worn-out old shirt. "No one sane and with a modicum of intelligence would trust him to stay bought; one was along to keep him honest, though he's a lot more frightened of the Na-priests than he is of us. We'd only kill him. The holy screws, well… He didn't want one along, but he was too greedy to refuse the sponsor's gold. There you are."
Shadith moved uneasily. Tsoukbaraim, I'm starting to like the man. That's a complication, it was easier when all I had to do was lie up a storm and get the hell out. It's obvious, what happened was Ginny pulling the strings and making the puppets dance. That someone he's talking about, he's either Ginny's man or in Ginny's net somehow. What do I tell this Aste? Him knowing about Ginny won't change anything. Ginny's watching us now, bastard! Watching me twist in the wind. Somebody has to do something about him. Killing a world to titillate… gaah! Admit it, Shadow, moral indignation isn't in it, you want to put the boot where it'll hurt because the d'dab's leading you around like his pet simi and it kills your pride. I HATE being helpless. I LOATHE being helpless. All right, all right, all that's given. Settle down, woman. Information-you need information. Can't make a plan till you know the parameters.
She shifted her legs, they were going to sleep on her.
A hiss came from the fire, the water was boiling. Kikun reached under his tunic, brought out a handful of herbs and dropped them into the pot. He contemplated them a moment, fetched out a dry stick, and began stirring them. A faint herbal smell drifted over to her. She sighed, folded her hands across her stomach. "All right, we're important. Why?"
"Because you mean hope to people who have none and where there is hope, there is a will to change present evils for future goods. Which means those now in power will do anything they can to co-opt or kill you."
"But why us? We're alien, even different species. What've we got to do with you and your people?"
"One said it was a hard thing to explain."
"Try…"
"You were jabbing at one about this being a Lost World. Back there at the cage. When you sang that song. By the way, when there's a moment you'll have to translate it for one."
"Yes, yes. So?"
"We know we were born as a species on this world. That we came here as fugitives…" He looked down, pulled a finger along the dirt beside his buttocks. "Funny, once upon a time, it was a lifetime ago almost, one was a teacher, a historian and a writer of histories. A dangerous occupation these days." He straightened his back, a distant look came into his eyes. "This is how it was…"
Across the shack, Kikun took the pot off the grid and set it on the ground. He pressed his palms together and leaned forward, a matching distance in his gaze as if he followed Asteplikota past time into myth.
In the time before time, there was only Oppalatin dreaming that he was. There was no beginning and no end, no time, no shape, no life. Only Oppalatin, dreaming. In his dreams he conceived himself and brought himself into being. And when it was so, he knew that he was alone, and being alone, conceived The Other.
He contemplated The Other, then he spoke: You are Kotakin, I have created you.
And Kotakin said: You have created me. I am Not-You. And Kotakin wept because he was separate and greatly alone.
Oppalatin saw and was grieved.
Oppalatin said: I am your Uncle. You are my Nephew. Go now and lay out worlds for Me and make creatures to dwell on those worlds and I will give you the Lifebreath to breathe into them. Let there be a world where I may contemplate Myself and dream without disturbance, let that world be called Yahwihakai which is My Glory. Let there be a world where You, Kotakin, may contemplate my Greatness without disturbance, where You, Kotakin, may bring such as may please you to make on that world a garden of tranquillity and joy, let that world be called Nahelikai which is Garden of the Blessed. Let there be four lesser worlds for the life to come.
Kotakin went and did this and he returned to Oppalatin and said: Thus and so have I done. Is this according to your plan?
Oppalatin contemplated the work of Kotakin and was pleased. He said: It is good. You have done a great work, Nephew. But your work is not finished. Go upon the first of the lesser worlds and make a Woman and I will put life into her.
Kotakin stood upon the face of the lesser world. He said: I name you Pitamaskai.
Earth drew apart from water, sky from ground and the world was solid around him. He took clay from the bank of a river and shaped a Woman from it. When he fin ished, he took Breath from Oppalatin and blew it into her mouth. He said: I name you Ni-tahwaikis, She-WhoPlants.
Kotakin gave the Woman a Blanket, a white Blanket with a thread of black woven through it. He told Nitahwaikis: You will do thus and so.
Ni-tahwaikis took two lumps of clay from the river bank and lay them upon the land and lay the Blanket over them. She sang the Creation Song over them and took the Blanket away.
When she uncovered them, two beings, twins, sat up. They sang: Who are we? Why are we?
To the one on her left, She-Who-Plants said: You are Tahnokipo Waposh. You sing the world into steadiness, it is your duty to see that order and extension remain. Go now about the world and put your hands on it so it will have substance and shape.
Tahnokipo Waposh left her and traveled through the world and through it again, singing it into order and extension. He sang the mountains into shape, sang the courses of the rivers, sang the rock into long slow being.