Return to Eden

happen."
    Kerrick watched as the Yilanè from the uruketo came ashore, stood rigid with pleasure as Enge signed end of conflict/end of killing. He realized that she had not answered him.
    But, yes, he had to admit that there was the possibility. The Yilanè would never change, could not change.
    But Tanu learned new things and changed all of the time. If a conflict between the two ever came about—could there be doubt about the final outcome?
    "There are things I wish to tell you, but we must leave," Enge said.
    "Much to say, no time to say it in. Will we meet again, Enge?"
    "It is my hope that we can, my belief that we cannot."
    "Mine as well. My friend Nadaske is dead. You are the only other Yilanè I can call friend. I will remember that friendship. But after today, seeing Vaintè dead at last, it is my feeling that I want to forget all Yilanè. I was taken among them by force, lived with violence, ended with death. It is enough, Enge. I am Tanu. I remain Tanu."
    Enge thought to speak to him of Ugunenapsa and of the Spirit of Life that joined them, saw the coldness of his body, thought better of it.
    "You are as you are. I am as I am."
    She turned, slid into the water, swam away. He watched as the other joined her and the two of them clambered aboard the waiting uruketo. When it stood out to sea he turned and climbed the dune once again. The three dead Yilanè were as he had left them, although the flies had found them now. He bent and pulled the metal knife from Vaintè's neck, plunged it into the sand to clean it. The corpses must be buried. And this last embrace of death was not acceptable. He pulled Nadaske's body from atop Vaintè, closed his sightless eyes and straightened his body out upon the sand. As he turned to leave he remembered the nenitesk.
    It was on a little ledge to the rear of Nadaske's shelter. The metal of the sculpture cool on his fingers, the polished stones gleaming in the sunlight when he held it up.
    The sculpture in one hand, his son's knife in the other, he turned his back on the Yilanè and trudged off to join the Tanu.
    ENVOY
    These things happened and must be told. That is what the alladjex always says when he speaks of things past. Ashan etcheran wariadith, aur skennast man eis. That is the way it is said in Marbak. I don't think I could say it any more in Sesek. Armun could, she has always been very good with other languages. In Paramutan it would be long and stretched out, something like Harvaqtangaq netsilikaktuvuk. We still see the Paramutan every year, to trade. The others trade, I go just for the pleasure of being with those strange, friendly people. Though we don't trade porro with them, not since the first—and last—time. The broken arms and legs mended. But a gouged-out eye can't grow back.
    Armun talks about crossing the ocean with them once again and I say why not? Our daughter, Ysel, has her own hunter now and has gone off with him to the north. At least Arnwheet is still here. He has grown to be a strong and skillful hunter with his own sammad. Like many of the other children who were raised on this island he does not feel the need to trek every season, to follow the hunt wherever it leads. I know that the women are the ones who prefer this most of all. They don't want to leave their charadis fields, their looms and ovens. They talk of how they miss the snow and cold winters when the weather is very hot here, but it is just talk. But many of the original sammads have left, others have taken their place.
    Some Tanu die. Ortnar, dragging his bad leg, still lives and complains. But strong Herilak who survived a thousand battles did not wake up one morning, was cold at Merrith's side, dead during the night. Strange things happen. But she has their son, Terin, to raise. He is growing large and will be very much like his father.
    These things happened and must be told. Easy enough to say in Yilanè: lulukhesnii igikurunke, marikulugul marikakotkuru. With a tail lift that I never could do. I must go to the city soon, to Alpèasak, talk to them there. I wonder if Lanefenuu is still Eistaa? She certainly is if she is still alive. It would not be easy to push her out. I must talk to her. I have tried to talk to Arnwheet, but he says that he does not speak Yilanè any more. Marbak is good enough for him. I don't argue. I wonder if he still remembers his friend Nadaske, who killed Vaintè with his knife, then was killed himself, right before our eyes. He used to dream about it,