West of Eden

dared speak otherwise in his presence.
    He was no longer ustuzou. No longer Ekerik. When Vaintè called him by his name she changed the way the word was said and everyone else copied her way. He was no longer Ekerik, slow and stupid, but Keririk, close to the center.
    There was need for the new name for he was growing, tall as a Yilanè, then even taller. There was so much hair on his body now that the unutakh died, perhaps from overeating, and he had been supplied with a larger and more voracious unutakh. But without the cold of winter to end the year, the green of spring to begin the new, there was no way to measure the track of time.
    Kerrick did not know it but he was fifteen years of age when Vaintè ordered him into her presence.
    West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    "When the uruketo leaves in the morning I go with it to Inegban*."
    Kerrick showed abstract interest, but little else, though he did lie and say it was sorrow to be parted from her. Inegban* was a word to him, nothing more.
    "Major changes are on the way. The new uruketo reach maturity and in one summer, two at the most, Inegban* will be abandoned. They are so concerned there with fear of the future and the changes it will bring that they do not appreciate the real problems we have here. They care nothing about the ustuzou that threaten us, scarcely even notice the Daughters of Death who sap our strength. I have great labors ahead of me and you must aid me. That is why you are coming with me to Inegban*."
    Now Kerrick's interest was indeed captured. A voyage inside the uruketo, across the ocean, a visit to a new place. He was both excited and afraid and Vaintè was aware of that since he was too upset to lie.
    "You will capture everyone's attention, and when I have that attention I will convince them what must be done." She looked at him quizzically- "But you are too much of a Yilanè now. We must remind them all that you were once ustuzou, still are."
    She went to the opening where she had placed the small knife many years ago, and took it out. Zhekak had examined it, pronounced it a crude artifact worked from meteoritic iron, had then placed a rustproof coating on it. Vaintè gave it to Etdeerg, her first assistant, and ordered her to fix it into position about his neck. Etdeerg did this with a piece of twisted gold wire, attaching it to the shining iron of his collar, while the fargi watched and listened at the doorway.
    "That looks strange enough to make them look twice," Vaintè said, reaching out to press flat the sharp end of the wire. Her fingers touched his skin, the first time in years, and she was surprised at the warmth of it.
    Kerrick had looked at the dull knife with lack of interest, had no memory of it at all.
    "The ustuzou drape themselves with skins, it has often been remarked, and you had one about you when you were brought here." She signaled to Etdeerg who opened a bundle and shook out a smooth deerskin.
    The fargi chattered with distaste and even Kerrick moved away from it.
    "Stop that," Vaintè ordered. "This is no piece of lice-ridden filth. It has been sterilized and cleaned, and that will be done again daily. Etdeerg, remove the false pouch and put this in its place."
    Then Vaintè ordered the fargi cleared away and Inlènu* to block the doorway since she remembered why the pouch had been made in the first place.
    Etdeerg stripped off the pouch and tried to fit on the skin, but the seals were in the wrong place. She went to fix them and Vaintè looked at Kerrick with interest. He had changed, grown, and she stared at him now West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    with a mixture of attraction and disgust. She went across the chamber and reached down to him and Kerrick shivered at her touch. Vaintè laughed with pleasure.
    "You are a male, very much like our males. Just one instead of two—but you respond just as they do!"
    Kerrick felt unease at what she was doing, tried to pull away but she seized him tight with her other hand and drew him close.
    Vaintè was aroused now, the aggressor as all female Yilanè were, and he was pulling away yet responding at the same time like any male.
    Kerrick had no idea of what was happening to him, nor what were the strange sensations he was feeling.
    But Vaintè was well aware. She was Eistaa, she could do as she willed. With practiced motions she hurled him to the floor and mounted him, while Etdeerg watched with appreciation.
    Her skin was cold on his, yet he was warm, strangely warm, and then it