"Let me think," said Haik.
"You have ten days at most," Dapple said. "A captain I know is heading south; I asked her to stop in Tulwar, in case your native town was as depressing as I expected."
Haik hit her lover lightly on the shoulder and went off to think.
She went with Dapple, taking pots, a potter’s wheel, and bags of clay. On the trip south–through rolling ocean, rain and snow beating against the ship–Haik told Dapple about evolution.
"Does this mean we started out as bugs?" the actor asked.
"The Goddess told me the process extended to people, though I’ve never found the bones of people in my cliffs."
"I’ve spent much of my life pretending to be one kind of animal or another. Interesting to think that animals may be inside me and in my past!"
On the same trip, Haik said, "My family wants to breed me again. There are too few of us; I’m strong and intelligent and have already had two healthy children."
"They are certainly right in doing this," said Dapple. "Have you picked a father?"
"Not yet. But they’ve told me this must be my last trip for a while."
"Then we’d better make the most of it," Dapple said.
There had been a family argument about the trip; and Haik had gotten permission to go only by saying she would not agree to a mating otherwise. But she didn’t tell Dapple any of this. Family quarrels should be kept in the family.
They spent the winter in Hu. It was mild with little snow. Dapple wrote, and Haik made pots. Toward spring they went to Ettin, taking pots.
Ettin Taiin’s mother was still alive, over a hundred and almost entirely blind with snow-white fur. But still upright, as Taiin pointed out. "I think she’ll go to the crematorium upright and remain upright amid the flames."
He said this in the presence of the old lady, who smiled grimly, revealing that she’d kept almost all her teeth.
The Ettin bought all the pots Haik had, Taiin picking out one with special care. It was small and plain, with flower-predators for handles, a cover and a pure white glaze. "For my mother’s ashes," the captain said quietly. "The day will come, though I dread it and make jokes about it."
Through late winter, Haik sat with the matriarch, who was obviously interested in her. They talked about pottery, their two families and the Theory of Evolution.
"I find it hard to believe we are descended from bugs and fish," Ettin Hattali said. "But your dreams have the sound of truth; and I certainly know that many of my distant ancestors were disgusting people. The Ettin have been improving, due to the wise decisions of my more recent ancestors, especially the women. Maybe if we followed this process far enough back, we’d get to bugs. Though you ought to consider the possibility that the Goddess is playing a joke on you. She does not always speak directly, and she dearly loves a joke."
"I have considered this," said Haik. "I may be a fool or crazy, but the idea seems good. It explains so much that has puzzled me."
Spring came finally. The hills of Ettin turned pale blue and orange. In the valley-fields, bitalinand tsinaproduced calves and foals.
"I have come to a decision," the blind old woman told Haik.
"Yes?"
"I want Ettin to interbreed with your family. To that end, I will send two junior members of my family to Tulwar with you. The lad is more like my son Taiin than any other male in the younger generation. The girl is a fine, intelligent, healthy young woman. If your senior female relatives agree, I want the boy–his name is Galhin–to impregnate you, while a Tulwar male impregnates Sai."
"It may be a wasted journey," said Haik in warning.
"Of course," said the matriarch. "They’re young. They have time to spare. Dapple’s family decided not to breed her, since they have plenty of children; and she is definitely odd. It’s too late now. Her traits have been lost. But yours will not be; and we want the Ettin to have a share in what your line becomes."
"I will let my senior female relatives decide," said Haik.
"Of course you will," said Ettin Hattali.
The lad, as Hattali called him, turned out to be a man of thirty-five, shoulder high to Haik and steel grey. He had two eyes and no limp. Nonetheless, his resemblance to Taiin was remarkable: a fierce, direct man, full of good humor. Haik liked him at once. His half-sister Sai was thirty, a solid woman with grey-brown fur and an excellent, even temperament. No reasonable person could dislike her.
Dapple, laughing, said, "This is Ettin in action! They live to defeat their enemies and interbreed with any family that seems likely to prove useful."
Death and beauty, Haik thought.
The four of them went east together. Haik put her potter’s tools in storage at the Hu Town inn; Dapple took leave of many old friends; and the four found passage on a ship going north.
After much discussion, Haik’s senior relatives agreed to the two matings, impressed by Galhin’s vigor and his sister’s calm solidity, by the rich gifts the Ettin kin had brought, and Haik’s description of the southern family.
Nowadays, with artificial insemination, we don’t have to endure what happened next. But it was made tolerable to Haik by Ettin Galhin’s excellent manners and the good humor with which he handled every embarrassment. He lacked, as he admitted, Taiin’s extreme energy and violence. "But this is not a situation that requires my uncle’s abilities; and he’s really too old for mating; and it would be unkind to take him from Hattali. Who can say how long she will survive? Their love for each other has been a light for the Ettin for years. We can hardly separate them now."
The two foreigners were in Tulwar till fall. Then, both women pregnant, the Ettin departed. Haik returned to her pottery. In late spring, she bore twins, a boy and a girl. The boy died soon after birth, but the girl was large and healthy.
"She took strength from her brother in the womb," said the Tulwar matriarchs. "This happens; and the important child, the female, has survived."
Haik named the girl Ahl. She was dun like her older sisters, but her fur had more of a ruddy tint. In sunlight, her pelt shone red-gold; and her nickname became Gold.
It was two years before Dapple came back, her silver-grey fur beginning to show frost on the broad shoulders and lean upper arms. She admired the baby and the new pots, then gave information. Ettin Sai had produced a daughter, a strong child, obviously intelligent. The Ettin had named the child Haik, in hope that some of Tulwar Haik’s ability would appear in their family. "They are greedy folk," said Dapple. "They want all their own strength, energy, solidity and violence. In addition, they want the beauty you make and are.
"Can you leave your daughter for a while? Come south and sell pots, while I perform my plays. Believe me, people in Hu and Ettin ask about you."
"I can," said Haik.
Gold went to a female cousin. In addition to being lovely, she had a fine disposition, and many were willing to care for her. Haik and Dapple took passage. This time, the voyage was easy, the winds mild and steady, the sky clear except for high, thin clouds called "tangled banners" and "schools of fish."
"What happened to your Theory of Evolution?" Dapple asked.
"Nothing."
"Why?"
"What could be done? Who would have believed me, if I said the world is old beyond comprehension; and many kinds of life have come into existence; and most, as far as I can determine, no longer exist?"