Return to Eden

and a selfish one. If this daughter was disputatious it was only because she was a seeker after truth.
    "I greet you, Far<, and ask why you express desire to speak in my presence?"
    Far< had become even thinner of late; her ribs projected in rounded rows. She ate little, thought much.
    Now she wound her thumbs together in a knot of suppressed emotion. She had difficulty in expressing herself and her large eyes grew even larger with the effort.
    "I struggle… with your words, and my thoughts, and Ugunenapsa's teaching. And I find them in conflict.
    I seek guidance, instruction.
    "And you shall have it. What disturbs you?"
    "It is your orders for us to obey Ambalasei as though she were our eistaa. Now we do this, although we have rejected the rule of the eistaa when we accepted Ugunenapsa's principles."
    "You forget we agreed to do this only until the city was grown and complete. Because without a city we cannot exist and any other action would be against life."
    "Yes—but look, the city is grown. It appears to be complete, and if this is so then the time of servitude is at an end. I, and many whom I have talked to, feel that we cannot proceed in this manner…"
    Enge's raised palms stopped her; a command that demanded instant obedience. "Do not speak of this now.
    Soon, very very soon, I will reveal to you all of what has been revealed to me today. The secret to our continued existence is there in Ugunenapsa's Eight Principles. If we look carefully it will be found."
    "I have looked, Enge, and have not found it."
    Was there a slight modifier of rejection, even contempt, in her speech? Enge decided to ignore it. This was no time for a confrontation.
    "You will work for the city, under Ambalasei's instruction, as will I and every one of our sisters. Our problems will be resolved, very very soon. You may go."
    Enge looked at the thin, receding back, and not for the first time felt the burden of her beliefs and realized the freedoms of an eistaa. Who would have ended this problem simply by ordering the death of this one.
    Still very much alive Far< walked away under the trees.
    Also under the trees, on the distant shores of Entoban* across the sea, Vaintè walked at a plodding pace.
    Stopping often, her tracks in the mud wandering as haphazardly as her thoughts.
    Sometimes, when she first awoke, she saw clearly what was happening to her. Abandoned, rejected, lost here on this inhospitable shore. At first her anger had sustained her and she had hurled threats after her betrayer, Lanefenuu, secure aboard the uruketo that was vanishing out to sea. Lanefenuu had done this to her and hatred of that eistaa possessed her. She had screamed her anger until her throat hurt and her limbs grew weary and foam flecked her jaws.
    But this had accomplished nothing. If there had been dangerous animals here she would have been killed and devoured during this time of her madness. But there were none. Beyond the strip of muddy beach there were shallow rotting swamps, quicksand and decay. Birds flew among the trees, a few creatures crawled in the mud, nothing had value. That first day her violence had made her thirsty and she had drunk from the scummed waters of the swamp. Something in the water had made her ill and retchingly weak.
    Later she had discovered where a spring of fresh water bubbled up among the trees, ran down the mud flats into the sea; now she drank only there.
    Nor had she eaten at first. Lying motionless in the sun she had not needed to eat, not for many days. Only when she had fallen down from weakness had she realized the stupidity of this. She might die—but she would not die this way. Some spark of the anger that had possessed her at her desertion and betrayal drove her into the sea. There were fish there, not easy to catch, the skills that had once enabled her to do this long forgotten. But she caught enough to keep alive. Shellfish in the muddy inlets were easier to find and soon formed the main part of her diet.
    Many, many days passed in this manner and Vaintè felt no need for any change. Very rarely now, when she awoke at dawn, she would look down in puzzlement at her muddy legs, her stained skin bare of any decoration, then out at the empty sea and sky. And wonder briefly at her circumstance. Was this the totality of existence? What was happening to her? These flitting moments of concern never lasted long.
    The sun shone warmly and the numbness in her skull was far better than the screaming agonies she had felt