West of Eden

importance, perhaps the greatest thing that there is," Alipol said. "But these stupid young males don't know that, and certainly the brutal females would have no idea of its existence."
    Alipol, and the other males, always referred to the females in this manner, with a mixture of fear and respect that Kerrick could never understand. Nor would they explain it to him, so he had long since ceased asking.
    "Please tell me," Kerrick said, with curiosity and interest, which Alipol accepted with a certain suspicion.
    "A rare attitude," he said, then made his mind up. "Stay here and I will show you what I do." He started away, then turned back. "Have you ever seen a nenitesk?"
    Kerrick did not understand the relevancy of the question, though he agreed that he had indeed seen the great beasts. Alipol left and returned with an object that had Kerrick expressing unconcealed joy and pleasure. In turn Alipol's own pleasure was beyond belief. "You see what others don't see," he said simply. "They have no eyes, no understanding."
    Alipol had his hands joined before him, all four thumbs turned up to form a bowl. Resting upon them was the delicately formed image of a nenitesk, glowing brightly in the sunlight and seemingly woven from beams of light. The eyes were shining red, while every line of tail and horn, great shield and stumpy legs had been caught in glowing radiance.
    Kerrick bent close to see that the tiny creature was formed from thin strands of some shining material, woven together to form the intricate object. He reached out a questing finger and found it hard to the touch.
    "What is it? How do you do it? I've never seen anything like it before."
    "Woven of wire, silver and gold wire. Two metals that never grow dim. The eyes are small gems that I brought with me from Inegban*. They are found in streams and banks of clay, and I have the skills to polish them."
    West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    After that Alipol showed Kerrick other things he had made: all of them were marvels. Kerrick could appreciate art and he longed to have one of them, but dared not express his desire lest it interfere with the friendship they had formed.
    As the city grew and flourished only one major problem remained. The ustuzou. During the rainy months, when there was cold in the north, the city was guarded and ringed with defenses. When the warmth returned to the north, then Stallan led raids up along the coast. Only once did they find a large group of ustuzou; they killed all that did not flee. At other times small groups were attacked and killed, and once they returned with a wounded prisoner. Kerrick went with the others to see the filthy, fur-covered creature, and he felt no sense of identification at all. It never regained consciousness and died quickly.
    This was the only time that the mounting clashes between Yilanè and ustuzou interfered with the order of city life. All of the other encounters took place at a distance now and were only the concern of Stallan and the others with her.
    Without the rhythms of the seasons, the passage of time was scarcely noted in Alpèasak. The city grew with the leisured pace of any living creature, animal or plant, reaching out into the forest and jungle until it covered a vast area inland from the river and the sea. Reports from Inegban* had the unreality of weather not felt, a storm not experienced. The recent winters had been mild enough so that some there hoped the cold weather was at an end, although the scientists who knew about these things insisted that the condition was only a temporary one. They talked of air and water temperature measurements made at the summer station in Teskhets, and pointed out the increasing numbers of ravenous wild ustuzou that had been driven down from their normal haunts in the north.
    In Alpèasak news of this sort was, of course, of great interest, but they were still tales told of a distant land. More uruketo were being bred, that was good to hear, and one day Inegban* would come to Alpèasak and the city would be complete. One day. In the meantime there was much to do here and the sun was always warm.
    For Kerrick the world was endless summer. Without the arrival of autumn he never looked forward to the snows of winter. From his place of privilege close to the Eistaa he watched the city grow—and he grew with it. Memories of the life he had once led grew dim, vanished altogether except for the occasional confusing dream. In mind if not in body he was Yilanè and none