Winter in Eden

Sasku. If a task was simple, and could be repeated, they could be taught and it would be done. But none of them ever understood the skein of intermeshed life that made the city a single complex unit. He knew little enough about it himself, but at least he knew it was there. Each part dependent upon the others in ways unknown. And now the city was wounded. It was self-healing for the most part—but not always. A great stretch of growth along the shore, untouched by the fire, had simply turned brown and died. Trees, vines, undergrowth, walls and windows, warehouses and living quarters. Dead. And there was absolutely nothing that Kerrick could do about it.
    What could be done was to care for the animals, or a good number of them at least. The giant nenitesk and onetsensast in the outer fields needed no attention since they could forage in what was still natural swamp and jungle. The deer and greatdeer grazed easily enough, as did some of the murgu meat animals.
    But others had to be fed with fruit, and this was easy enough to arrange. Still others were simply beyond his understanding. And died. Some were not missed. The riding tarakast were vicious and could not be approached. Yilanè had ridden them, could control them, but he could not. They did not graze, so might be carnivores. Yet when they were given meat they screamed and stamped it into the dirt. And died. As did the surviving uruktop in a swampy outlying field. These eight-legged creatures had been bred to carry fargi, seemed suitable for nothing else. They looked at him with glazed eyes when he approached, did not run or attack. They refused all food, even water, and in their dumb, helpless way fell down and perished one by one.
    In the end Kerrick decided that this was a Tanu city and no longer a Yilanè one. They would keep what suited them and not be too troubled about the rest. This decision made the work a little easier, but it was still dawn to dusk every day, with conferences many times late into the night.
    Therefore he had good reason to forget the season in the frozen north, to lose track of the passing days in this hot and almost changeless climate. Winter ended without his being aware, and late spring had come before he gave serious thought to the sammads. And Armun. It was the arrival of the first Sasku women that gave him pause to remember, to feel a certain guilt about his forgetfulness. It was easy to forget the seasons in this hot climate. Kerrick knew that the manduktos understood many things and he sought out Sanone for help.
    "The leaves here never fall," Kerrick said, "and the fruit ripens year round. It is difficult to keep track of the time of year."
    Sanone was sitting cross-legged in the sun, soaking in the warmth. "That is true," he said. "But there are other ways of marking the seasons of the year. This is done by watching the moon as it waxes and wanes and keeping track of when this happens. You have heard of this?"
    "The alladjex talks of it, that is all I know."
    Sanone sniffed his disapproval of primitive shamanism and smoothed out the sand before him. He was Winter in Eden - Harry Harrison
    versed in all the secrets of the earth and sky. With his index finger he carefully scratched a moon-calendar into the sand.
    "Here and here are the two moons of change. Death of Summer, Death of Winter. Here the days get longer, here the nights begin to grow blacker. I looked at the moon when it rose last night and it was new—which means we are here in its travels." He pushed the twig into the ground and sat back on his heels, well satisfied with the diagram. Kerrick voiced his ignorance.
    "To you, mandukto of the Sasku, this means many things. Unhappily, wise Sanone, I see only sand and a twig. Read it for me, I implore you. Tell me if now, far to the north, has the ice broken and have the flowers opened?"
    "They did that here," Sanone said, moving the twig back in the circle. "Since then the moon has been full and full again."
    Kerrick's remorse grew at this revelation. But when he thought about it some more he realized that summer had just begun, there would still be time. And there were so many things here that had to be done first. Then one night he dreamt of Armun and touched her split lip with his tongue and awoke shaking and determined to start at once to reach her, bring her here. The baby too, of course.
    Good as his intentions were the tasks that had to be finished to make Deifoben inhabitable never seemed to end. One day ran