“And how will this be done?”
“If you watch — why you will see.”
Enge turned quickly away before Ambalasi’s ready wrath could engulf her. Turned and walked slowly toward the shrubs that concealed the Sorogetso watchers.
She walked more and more slowly when she saw concerned motions, finally stopped and settled back comfortably onto her tail. Close enough to be understood, but not so close that she might be considered a threat. She held out the palms of her hands.
“Friend,” she said, over and over again, in the simplest manner possible, using colors alone without verbalization. She stopped and looked at the shrubs. When there was no reaction from the hidden watchers she repeated herself once again. Her body at ease, she was not impatient; she radiated calm and serenity. “Friend.” That was all she would say. It was now up to them.
“Friend.”
The sun moved across the sky and the Sorogetso stirred restlessly. Finally one of them pushed through the shrubs and stood close in front of them, her eyes vertical slits against the glare. She was not the same individual that they had met in the jungle, but was taller and more muscled and stood with a chin-jutting arrogance. When Enge made no move the newcomer raked her claws on the ground in a simple aggressive movement.
“No fear,” Enge said. “Do not fear me.” The Sorogetso was puzzled and she repeated it in different ways, always as simply as possible until the Sorogetso understood and her crest came erect with anger.
“Me… fear… no! You… fear.”
Contact had been established, but Enge permitted none of her pleasure to show. Instead she simply flashed the colors of friendship again. Then her name.
Ambalasi watching from a distance could make out none of the details of this first contact. But it lasted until the sun was low in the sky, then ended suddenly when the Sorogetso turned about, pushed through the shrubs and dived headlong into the water. Enge walked slowly back, her body stiff and uncommunicative.
“I hope that your time was wisely spent,” Ambalasi said. “Though from here I saw very little happen.”
“Much happened, much communication.” Enge’s speaking was muffled, for she was abstracted and deep in thought. “I insisted that the one who came forward should follow my lead, do as I did. I told my name and made strong reassurances that we were here in peace. I repeated that we wish only to help them, give them food if they wanted it. This was enough for the first contact, to get across basic concepts like that.”
“Basic indeed. I hope it has not been all a waste of time. Did you at least get the creature’s name?”
“Yes.”
“Well, speak then. What is she called?”
“Eeasassiwi. Strong-fisher. But that is not her name.” Enge hesitated before Ambalasi’s signed confusion, then spoke again with slow precision.
“We cannot say that it is her name.
“We must say instead that it is his name.
“Yes, that is right, this strong-fisher is a male.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
“What you are saying is a complete and utter impossibility.” Ambalasi reinforced the strength of her statements with modifiers of infinite enlargement. Enge bowed beneath the weight of her rage and assertiveness, but did not alter anything.
“That may be as you say, great Ambalasi, for you are the wisest in the sciences of life. I am humble before your knowledge — yet I still know what I know.”
“How could you know?” Ambalasi hissed, her entire body atremble, her crest engorged and inflamed.
“I know in the simplest manner. The Sorogetso grew angry when I would not respond as it wished, made threatening gestures, one of which involved opening its sexual sac. I have seen what I have seen. It is male, not female.”
Ambalasi collapsed backward, suddenly pale, gasping aloud as her strong passions ebbed. There was no mistake; Enge had seen what she had seen. Her limbs twitched in confusion as she sought some meaning, some possible explanation. Her inescapable conclusions were logically correct, personally repulsive.
“If the creature made gestures of threat, and one of these gestures involved its sexual organs, I can only conclude that it must be the aggressor sex. Which in turn leads inescapably to the conclusion that…” She could not continue, but the movements of her limbs revealed the unavoidable conclusions. Enge spoke it aloud.
“The males here are dominant, the females at the most equal or possibly subservient.”
“How unacceptably loathsome! Not the natural order for Yilanè. In the case of lower animals, yes, it is possible, for they are senseless brutes. But intelligence is female, thought is female, the source of life, the eggs — they are inescapably female. The males provide the crude biological functions of supplying half the needed genes and all of the reflexive-boring prenatal care. That is all they are good for, they have no other function. What you have observed is preposterous, unnatural — and utterly fascinating.”
Ambalasi had recovered her aplomb, was thinking now like a true scientist not a mindless fargi. Was it possible? Of course it was possible. The diversity of sexual roles, relationships, variations and inversions among the species in the world was almost infinite. So why not a variation in her own species? How far back would the breaking apart of the two have to have been? She would have to consider that. The fact of even crude communication indicated a relatively recent separation. Unless the forms of basic communication were fixed in the genes and not learned. It all became more and more interesting. Enough. Observation first, theorizing last. Facts were needed, facts and more facts.
That she had been the one to discover this…! She struggled to her feet.
“Imperative now! I must see, talk, record everything about the Sorogetso.”
Enge signed patience. “You will do that, for yours’ is the mind of science that will disclose all. But communication first. I must learn to speak with the Sorogetso, gain their confidence, then penetrate their culture. It will take time.”
Ambalasi leaned back with a tired sigh. “Of course it will. Proceed at once. Devote your time to nothing else. Take Setessei with you, I will relieve her of all other tasks. She is to record everything. Detailed records must be kept. My name shall roar like the bellow of a nenitesk down through the annals of time for making this discovery. Of course you will get some credit as well.”
“Your generosity is infinite,” Enge said respectfully, concealing most of her feelings; luckily Ambalasi was too involved in her own whirling thoughts to notice any negative connotations in the statement.
“Yes, of course, well-known fact. I must learn the language as well — Setessei will bring me the recordings daily. You will learn to speak with them, gain access to their community, give them food, hopefully they will have sickness and I can give them medical aid. In doing so I will make a study of their physiology. Doors of knowledge opening — facts accumulated, soon revealed!” She looked at Enge and her expression grew stern. “But knowledge reserved for those with the capacity to understand. Just as males are kept from the casual attention of fargi and unsuited ones, so must this fact of maleness be kept from your companions.”
Enge was concerned. “But openness is the basis of our existence. We share with each other.”
“Wonderful. But this fact is not for sharing.” She pressed the point when she saw that Enge was still doubtful. “I make a comparison. A Yilanè would not put a hèsotsan in the hand of a yiliebe fargi with the sea still wet on her hide. It would mean death for the fargi or others. The maleness of the Sorogetso could be a weapon, a cultural poison, a threat. Do you understand that and agree?”
“I do,” with grave reservations.
“Then I ask only for scientific reserve — for the present. When we have learned more we can discuss it again. Agreed?”