Winter in Eden

activity on the shore. Or it could be based there.
    Any faint hopes that he might still have had vanished when the two small boats appeared, the rising sun glinting off the shells of their bows. Fargi in each, going out to fish for the day.
    Deifoben had become Alpèasak once again. There had been a battle, an invasion, destruction. It had all happened while he had been away.
    But where were the Tanu and the Sasku who had been living there when he left? What had happened to them? The barrier of deadly thorns stretched off into the distance. He could see nothing on the other side of it, but the activity at sea was positive proof that this city was Yilanè once again. The evidence overwhelmed him, drove him to the ground with the black fist of despair. Were they all dead? His cheek lay on the sand; a spider ran quickly by. He reached out to crush it, then stayed his hand and watched it hurry out of sight. Were they dead, all of them, dead?
    He would never discover what had happened just lying there. He knew that, but his feeling of loss was so great that he felt disarmed and helpless. Only when distant shouts penetrated his daylight darkness did he stir and raise his head. More fishing boats were going by and a Yilanè was standing in one, calling out to the others. It was too distant to make out her meaning.
    But were they just fishing boats? Or were they part of another raiding party going north? He had to know; there might be Tanu out there. He dropped behind the dunes and hurried north as well. He ran until he was tired, then crawled up the dunes again to look at the ocean, to check the progress of the boats.
    The wind was freshening from the east, sending thick rain clouds hurtling before it. Soon the first drops splattered down, grew heavier and heavier. He no longer ran, but head lowered against the storm, trudged slowly through the sand. The boats were still there, just outside the surf, he checked often. It was midday when he stopped to rest and eat some of the meat. The feelings of despair seeped back when he stopped moving. What was the point of it—what was he accomplishing? The boats were there, in the sea, and nothing he might do could effect them in any way. Was there any point to this futile pursuit?
    This time when he raised his head carefully over the crest of the dune he saw that the boats had stopped, were being joined by others who had been fishing on the far side of the narrow channel that separated the beach from the sandy islets beyond. He could see the nets being hauled in, the catch being shared out to the new arrivals. So it was not an attacking force—they were just fishing boats after all. The sea was far rougher now as the wind gathered force; a tropical storm was building. The Yilanè in the boats must have been aware of this as well because on some unheard command they all turned and moved back toward the harbor and the city.
    Kerrick climbed to his feet and watched them leave, slowly vanishing from sight in the driving sheets of rain. He was soaked through himself, his hair and beard plastered across his face, but it was a warm rain Winter in Eden - Harry Harrison
    and he scarcely noticed it. The hèsotsan he was holding stirred feebly as it felt the water, opening its tiny mouth to suck at a rivulet. Kerrick turned his face to the rain too, drinking it in. Enough. He would leave now. Was there anything else he could do? He could think of nothing.
    There were dark forms in the water where the boats had been, leaping high and splashing back into the sea. The waves were much higher now, breaking across the islets on the other side of the channel. These were really just large sand bars, the waves now washing right over them and surging far up on the beach.
    These were enteesenat; he recognized them, he had watched them playing about the uruketo often enough. They never ventured out alone—there must be an uruketo near by—yes there it was. Moving solidly along in their wake, waves breaking across its back, surging about its fin. It was going slowly, having trouble in fighting the growing seas. There was no room for the creature to turn, the waves were hitting it broadside, and there was no escape to the open ocean.
    The boats were now out of sight, Kerrick and the enteesenat the only witnesses of the disaster. The uruketo was thrashing its mighty tail—but it was not moving. It was aground. The waves were still higher, breaking over the creature, rolling it up onto the sand. Their