“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Naratonen and Anitonen want me to go back to Tiangi with them.”
Juna felt a clutch at her heart. Carefully keeping her face neutral, she set down her book. “And?”
“I said no. I told them that I wasn’t leaving until Mariam was old enough to come with us. Moki needs me, Mariam needs me, and you need me. Besides, I want to help you raise both of them.”
“Ukatonen,” Juna said, deeply moved by his decision. “What about you? What do you need? You’ve been away from your people for a long time. I worry about what this isolation is doing to you.”
“And what about Moki?” he said. “If I leave, he will be the only Tendu in a world of humans.”
“Perhaps Anitonen or Naratonen can stay to help.”
Ukatonen looked at her for a long moment. His golden eyes gleamed in the dim lamplight. “I don’t want to go back to Tiangi. There is no place for me there.”
“And here?” Juna asked him.
“Here I have you, Moki, your family, and many friends. There is useful work for me to do, and a whole new world to learn about. On Tiangi, I would be a cripple, and not, as your people call it, ‘disabled.’ Everyone would wonder why I had not chosen the honorable course and killed myself. I would be shunned and derided as less than honorable. Among the villagers, I would be a laughingstock. Among the enkar, I would be a source of shame.”
“Ukatonen, if you return, then you can be an example. You can show your people the lesson that we have learned.”
“Perhaps,” he said, looking away. “But not yet. I am not ready to go and be an example, Eerin. I am not yet strong enough.”
Juna reached out and took his hand. “You will be someday,” she said. “You will have to be. You can’t spend the rest of your life here. Someday you will have to go home again.”
He turned to look at her. “But not now. Anitonen and Naratonen seem to labor under the delusion that somehow I can straighten out all the problems that have arisen between the humans and the Tendu on Tiangi.” He shook his head. “I told them that I would stay here and teach other enkar about humanity, but I would not go back. If they accept my offer, I will need the help of you and your family. Are you willing to take on this burden?”
“You know that I will help you all I can, Ukatonen,” she said, “I will talk to my family, but I’m sure that they will be happy to do what they can to help.”
“We will find what we need when the time comes.” Ukatonen said. He stood. “Hopefully, this will benefit Moki as well. He needs more contact with his own people.”
“I hope they decide to do it,” Juna told him, smiling inwardly. It wasn’t just Moki who needed more contact with the Tendu.
Watching the two enkar struggle to comprehend human culture convinced Ukatonen that he had made the right decision. He had Moki teach them to speak human sound speech. Once Moki got over the initial awkwardness of teaching enkar, he proved to be an excellent instructor. It was hard for the enkar to learn from a mere bami. It was especially hard for Anitonen, who had helped Moki through the transformation from tinka to bami.
Ukatonen hid his amusement at the enkar’s shame, and watched as they began to appreciate and acknowledge Moki’s skill. It was a lesson all enkar badly needed to learn, he thought. If they sent him more enkar, Moki would be one of their teachers.
Despite their initial difficulties, the two enkar learned quickly, and were speaking Standard fluently enough to carry on short conversations in only a few days.
Anitonen and Naratonen came into their own on the diplomatic tour. The diplomats had been briefed on Nara-tonen’s interest in seeing Earth’s performing arts, and they were treated to a wide range of performances, ranging from Shakespeare in the original English to the sonorous and majestic Noh theater, the brash and brilliant Chinese operas, as well as atomic-age musicals, and plays and films from every era and age.
In return, the three enkar and Moki performed traditional quarbirri, and improvised with musicians. Naratonen was dazzled by the lights, the sound system, the special effects, and the sheer range and variety of performing arts. He was especially impressed by Chinese opera, and spent hours backstage with the actors and actresses, learning to copy their masklike makeup. The actors in turn were fascinated by his ability to instantly change from one face to another. By the time Ukatonen bodily hauled him off to a diplomatic reception with the Chinese Minister of Ecology, he had formed a fast friendship with the troupe’s director, Li Liu, and they were spinning out ideas for a new opera that would utilize his ability to change his skin color.
Anitonen focused on learning human diplomacy. She spent hours closeted with members of the protocol staff, learning the ins and outs of a diplomat’s life. She also spent a lot of time with Analin, trying to comprehend the chaos and violence of human history. Anitonen kept coming to Ukatonen with questions about what motivated humans to do various things. Occasionally, he or Moki could enlighten her, but mostly they all turned to Eerin, whose explanations were often as confusing as the questions they brought to her. But once in a while some revelation would blossom.
The two enkar kept Moki busy, answering their endless questions, and looking after them. Moki blossomed under the enkar’s demands. Ukatonen had forgotten how much of a bami’s role revolved around serving the elders around him. It was how a bami learned to be a Tendu. He and Eerin were much too self-sufficient to keep Moki occupied.
After the diplomatic tour was over, they returned for a month to Berry Station. The two enkar were fascinated by the Fortunati family, especially Mariam, who was delighted to have two more Tendu to play with.
The enkar spent alternate months on Berry, studying intently; then they would spend a month traveling and meeting people. Naratonen and Li Liu actually managed to create a Chinese/Tendu opera, using both Chinese and Tendu music, though finding a common theme proved difficult. It was a huge success— over a billion people downloaded it. Naratonen’s share of the royalties was enough to make him moderately wealthy by Earth standards. Eerin helped him set up a fund to defray the costs of Tendu traveling to Earth. Li Liu gave Naratonen a copy of the score and a chip of the performance to take back to Tiangi. It would require violating the Contact Protocols to show it to any of the Tendu back home, but Naratonen watched the performance so many times that he could reproduce the entire performance on his skin.
As the date for their departure loomed, Anitonen and Naratonen redoubled their efforts to get Ukatonen to come with them. He continued to refuse. At one point, Naratonen even threatened to render a judgment that Ukatonen must go back with them. Before Naratonen could formally phrase his judgment, Anitonen stopped him by rendering a judgment that her life would be forfeit if he created a judgment about this matter. After that, the subject of Uka-tonen returning to Tiangi was not spoken of, though it hung in the air like a persistent fragrance.
The enkar’s final days in human space were spent in frenetic planning, trying to decide which six enkar would come and study with Ukatonen. They needed to be flexible enough to cope with the humans’ radically different culture, and understanding enough to work with Ukatonen, despite his injury.
Then suddenly, it was time for Naratonen and Anitonen to return to Tiangi.
Dread weighed heavily in Ukatonen’s stomach on the trip back to Broumas to see them off. It would be more than a year before the next group of enkar arrived. He had grown used to the company of his own people again. It was going to be hard, being only one of two Tendu among all these humans. It was still possible to change his mind and go home, Ukatonen realized. He closed his eyes against the sudden surge of longing as he thought of Tiangi.