The War of the Stolen Mother
(Footnotes are grouped at the end of this page)
Chapter 2
Ki’shto’ba and Di’fa’kro’mi Depart from Lo’ro’ra
We prepared to leave Lo’ro’ra at the end of chi’nol| or the beginning of la’nol|, however you might wish to
regard it. We wanted to begin our travels
at a time when the cold was waning and a drier, more temperate period was
coming on. Ru’a’ma’na’ta had been with
us from the previous Time of Flowers until deep into the Cold Time. During that period death had brought the Most
Holy Kwi’ga’ga’tei relief from her suffering. A’kha’ma’na’ta had died also, and perforce her
King, Sei’o’na’sha’ma. The new Mother,
Viz’ka’ma’na’ta, had been installed and a King found for her at the unlikeliest
of fortresses, Kwai’kwai’za, which twelve years previously had been at war with
us. The Healers who had come with Ru’a’ma’na’ta
had worked much magic and the Star-Plague had waned. Our beloved fortress of Lo’ro’ra had grown
smaller and sadder, but it was stable and peaceful and set once again on the
natural path, albeit a different one.
Ki’shto’ba and I began to speak of where we wanted to
go first, and …
But perhaps a word is needed for those who might read
this but do not know our history. Lo’ro’ra
is a fortress of the Shum’za, the most widespread of the Shshi. We do not call ourselves shum’za’zei|; that is the name the Da’no’no Shshi give to us
because the heads of our Warriors are smaller in proportion to the body than theirs
are. In fact, we find the designation a
bit insulting, preferring to think of ourselves as the only true Shshi
people. But in my travels I have learned
that the world contains multiple varieties of Shshi and I have acquired some
humility, and I no longer object to calling myself a “Little Head.”
Ki’shto’ba No’no Um’zi is a Da’no’no Shi, from the
fortress of To’wak, which is situated northwest of Lo’ro’ra, upstream on the
river called Ti’re’bu. “Huge-Head” is
its surname, an honorific given to it following its first battle when it fought
for its own fortress in a dispute with a neighbor. Afterward, it served as a Champion against Lo’ro’ra
in the Nasute War, and finally it was summoned as Champion for Lo’ro’ra
against, as we thought, the Star-Beings but actually to help combat a force of
evil that had crept undetected into our unfortunate fortress. Ki’shto’ba defeated the Unnatural Commander
Hi’ta’fu the Unconquerable, thus negating its surname, and the Huge-Head also
killed the accursed Unnatural Alate whose name I refuse to speak, who was the
cause of all the suffering. Ki’shto’ba,
however, always felt regretful about the outcome of that war, because twice our
Champion was taken by surprise and failed to prevent a death.
During this period of time, Ru’a’ma’na’ta the
Star-Being played Remembrancer and told tales for the Holy One and the King. From the stirring tales of the adventures of
the wanderer Ul’i’seit, Ki’shto’ba and I both took the notion to go wandering
ourselves, helping to defend and to entertain and inform the Shshi of other
fortresses along the way in return for food and shelter. Our aim was to reach the no’no’gwai’zi| – the Great Water – that Ru’a’ma’na’ta assured us
really exists a long distance to the south.
Ru’a’ma’na’ta seemed to take particular pleasure in
our decision, and before she and the other Star-Beings flew away in the midst
of that Dead Time, she gave the Huge-Head and me gifts. She told us that she knew Shshi were adapted
for spending most of their time in the dark, moist temperateness of the
fortress and that our bodies were not very good at sustaining great cold or
heat or dryness or long periods in strong sunlight. So she gave each of us a sheet of fiber or
matting, although those words do not provide an adequate description. It was very smooth and somewhat shiny and
quite light in weight, and it was cut in a pattern that fit exactly the shapes
of our bodies. Mine was made to enclose
my wings and fasten around my thorax and belly with a strip of a substance that
marvelously stuck to itself, and Ki’shto’ba’s was made with six holes, three on
a side, so that the legs could be pushed through. This was the first time in history that Shshi
have employed such removable skins, which were something like the fiber
coverings some of the Star-Beings use to protect their own bodies.
Ru’a’ma’na’ta said that these coverings had
properties that would protect us from heat and cold and rain and drought, and
Ki’shto’ba said, “Here is more of your magic, Ru’a’ma’na’ta!”
But she said, “Not magic. For if the heat or the cold or the quantity
of water is too extreme, even these will not protect you from death. But they will make your lives more
comfortable and allow Di’fa’kro’mi’s wings to endure more sun without drying
out.”
Nevertheless, I named these coverings da’a’tas| shkei’so’zi|,[1] because
of a property they possessed that Ru’a’ma’na’ta herself had not been aware of. Here is how we discovered it.
Ki’shto’ba and I had put on the skins, which took
some getting used to because they press on the bristles of our bellies and
thoraces and cause strange sensations.
While we were crossing the courtyard toward the main fortress edifice,
we noticed odd reactions from some Workers that we encountered. They almost bumped into us, stepping away at
the last moment and appearing very confused.
Ki’shto’ba remarked that the coverings must have an odd smell, although
it and I had detected no odor that could cause such disorientation.
Inside the fortress we went to my quarters, and No’kri
the Worker Chief was in the antechamber, along with the Seer’s Steward I’mei’o’nu. No’kri’s posterior was toward us and it paid
no attention as we came in, then as it received my greeting, it jumped around
and backed into a corner, waving its antennae furiously and gesturing with the
forelegs, expressing an agitated lack of understanding.
“Is someone there? Who is that?
Is that … ? No, it is not the
Huge-Head. But – can it be … ?”
I’mei’o’nu seemed equally befuddled. “If I had no eyes, I would swear you and Ki’shto’ba
are not here, Di’fa’kro’mi. I cannot
sense your odor or your aura – you hardly project anything. What is wrong with your bodies – your wings?”
It seemed that the magic skins suppressed the
individual’s personal pheromones and presence sendings that allow us to
perceive each other. When Ki’shto’ba and
I experimented, we realized we could barely detect each other’s presence. We had not noticed this phenomenon at first
because of those unnatural bodily sensations that I just mentioned.
The cause of this strange imperceptibility was
puzzling even to Ru’a’ma’na’ta, but her large, hairy, female companion, who
knows a great deal about the Star-Magic, did have an explanation, which was
impossible to relate to us because our language lacks appropriate words. What they did was to cut apart a piece of
this skin and show us the thin, glittering hairs within it, which have some
kind of relationship to light. How that
works on our presence sendings is a total mystery to me. I cannot say more except that it was clearly
a manifestation of magic. [2]
Ru’a’ma’na’ta made the motions of humor, however, and
said that some of the ancient wanderers in the tales of her world had “skins of
not-seeing,” coverings that made them invisible, and that without realizing it she
had gifted us with something similar.
“Can you imagine, Ki’shto’ba,” she said, “wearing this covering while
you are fighting another Warrior? Your
opponent would be unable to know where you are!
It would think it perceives you, then it would lose you, and then you could
reappear at its right or left or behind it when it was not expecting it!”
Ki’shto’ba found this idea intriguing, although it
was not certain that this method of combat would be entirely fair. But it found that the skin somewhat
suppressed its own ability to perceive others, covering as it did so many of
the sensilla, so it appeared the contest might thus be equalized.
But I saw in the skins’ magic something that might
protect us from danger at some point in the future.
I have dwelt on this because the protective skins
were with us to the end and they played a significant role our adventures.
* * *
Many individuals were to join us in our travels, but
there were two citizens of Lo’ro’ra who began the journey with us and who were also
with us to the end, or very near it. Not
having a very clear idea of what long travel across empty lands really
entailed, Ki’shto’ba and I had intended to travel alone; it would protect me
and I would guide and feed it, and we would carry food in pouches strapped to
our bodies. One day, however, as we
stood talking in the courtyard, a good-sized and robust Worker approached us –
quite presumptuously, it seemed to me.
This person scraped its mandibles in the dirt in a
somewhat perfunctory manner and said, “If I might have a word with you, holy
Remembrancer and honored Champion – I understand you intend to go wandering.”
“And you are … ?” I said.
“My name is Wei’tu, of the Builders.”
Ki’shto’ba, ever courteous, said, “What would you
have with us, little Worker? That is a
strange name you bear. Indeed, no Worker
that exists has wings.”
Wei’tu waggled its antennae and performed a little
dance of resignation. “Sometimes that
question grows a bit tedious. When I was
hatched, I had small nubs of tissue on my pronotum and yet tinier ones on my
mesonotum, and even though one of the experienced Tenders said that was not
uncommon and meant nothing, a young Namer Alate got very excited because he was
sure that the nubs were signs I would have wings and turn out to be an
Alate. So he insisted I be named Tuk. Of course, in the very first molt I shed
those nubs and at the third it became quite clear that I was a Worker.
“Then one of
the Namers who is known widely as a jester … I will not name her – you perhaps
can surmise … this Namer bounced about in amusement and said, ‘Do you see
that? After all the expectation, it has
No Wing. It is Wei’tu.’ And so, honored Shshi, my name became
inescapably Wei’tu.”
“Ah,” I said,
“I do know who that Namer is. She is
indeed given to bestowing peculiar names.
Poor Ying’gwaf is an example.” [3]
“I would like
to go with you on your journeying,” said Wei’tu, in an abrupt change of
subject.
“What?”
exclaimed both the Huge-Head and I, and I added, “Oh, I doubt the wisdom of
that.”
“Why?” said
Wei’tu, continuing to display extraordinary brashness for a Worker. “I am very strong and experienced in several
types of work. I began as a Feeder even
though I had the bak’zi|,[4] because
the fortress was short on Feeders at that time, but I was rather large for that
and took up too much room in the refectories, and sometimes I hurt the Warrior’s
mouths and that annoyed them. So they sent
me back to train as a Builder and I am very good at it. Holy Alate, can you see an especially smooth
patch of carefully mortared stone halfway up the side of the Workers’ Quarters?
That is my work, quite well done – all
the supervisors said so. And I have
worked inside as well, repairing walls and ventilation ducts, and for a while I
was assigned to the cistern. Just how do
you expect to get along in the world without a Worker to feed and groom you and
make shelter for you?”
“I plan to feed the Champion,” I said a little
defensively, and with some annoyance.
“Alates are perfectly capable of feeding others, and themselves as
well. Besides, it would not be seemly to
hurt the mouth of the Champion of Lo’ro’ra.”
“I believe my
mouth is sufficiently large that such a small Worker would not hurt me,” said
Ki’shto’ba, who indeed was a giant even among its own people.
Wei’tu was hopping and bobbing. “It is less seemly that an Alate go about
poking his head between the dangerous mandibles of a big Warrior. And
will you lick its anus clean and pick the fungus and lice from under the
sclerites? Who will clean the dust from
your wings, holy Alate? I know how to do
all those things. And I can make shelters from poles and
brushwood. Can you do that, Remembrancer? What do you plan to do when it rains? And at times of sleeping – who will watch out
for the big reptiles? And I will take it
upon myself to learn about wild plants both edible and dangerous. What did you expect to do for food?”
“We intended to take food with us,” said Ki’shto’ba
with a certain growing alarm.
“What if a stage of travel takes longer than you
expect and you run out? Will you sit
down and patiently starve? Are you an
expert on herbs and fruits, as a Healer might be, Remembrancer?”
I was beginning to get nettled at this Worker’s
impertinence, and also disturbed, because I could see considerable truth in its words. “Well, if you persist in speaking in such a
forward way, I do not know … ”
“I beg your pardon, honored Di’fa’kro’mi – I am
usually quite civil, but I like to say what I think without mincing about. Even Workers are not without a sense of the
power of words.”
That rather won me over, because I had a weakness for
words then as I do now. “Some of what
you say has merit. The Champion and I
will consider your offer. Come to my
chamber in the Alate’s Quarters in six turnings of the water vessel and we will
give you an answer.”
And Wei’tu skipped away gleefully, frolicking along
like a nymph who is happy to have finished molting.
Ki’shto’ba and I consulted, and we agreed we may have
not considered all the possible ramifications of traveling alone through
unknown country. We talked to Holy Gri’a’vu’tei
and Commander A’gwa’ji and they thought
that taking an additional companion
would be a wise course.
Even a party of Warriors traveling between fortresses takes a few
Workers along, as well as at least one Alate to see for them. And Fi’la’la’mo, who was to take my place as
Lo’ro’ra’s Remembrancer, reminded us of some of the tales that Ru’a’ma’na’ta
had told – the one about the addled Warrior who fought the giant leg-whirlers
(I never got a good image in my mind of that) and the one about the small,
hairy-footed Star-Being who undertook to throw an evil ring-shaped object into
a volcano and almost failed to save his world.
Both of these Champions had devoted helpers with them, so there was a
precedent in the very tales we were trying to emulate.
Once, Ru’a’ma’na’ta explained to us what these
helpers of Champions were called in her speech.
She said it could be translated into our language as mu’it’zei| da| soi’zi|. [5] Yes, that is what I said, Chi’mo’a’tu. I really cannot understand it, either. But I think it is some kind of Star-Being
jest that does not seem humorous when it is put in our speech. I once told Wei’tu about it and it became
quite indignant. After all, who would
want a helper who kicked one on the side?
Or perhaps the phrase means a defender – someone who
stands at one’s side and kicks one’s enemies.
But you are right – most Workers could not fill that role …
Well, however that may be … Ki’shto’ba and I decided that this
resourceful Wei’tu might be a great boon to us.
And when it came to my quarters for its answer, it
brought Twa’sei with it.
Twa’sei was a much smaller Worker, who hung both
timidly and eagerly against Wei’tu’s side and quivered its antennae adoringly
at Ki’shto’ba.
“Twa’sei is a
Grower. It wants to come, too,” said Wei’tu. “I went to the Fungus Garden to find someone
to teach me about wild plants, and this one approached me and begged me to ask
you to let it join us.”
Ki’shto’ba appeared puzzled. “I seem to know your scent, Twa’sei. But how?
If you are a Grower, it is unlikely that you have fed me in the
refectory.”
“On the day when Ru’a’ma’na’ta toured the Fungus
Garden and you lost sight of her, it was I who told you where she had gone,”
said Twa’sei, abasing its head and wriggling toward Ki’shto’ba.
“Ah, that day,” I said, remembering how we suspected
that the Unnatural Alate had been plotting to assassinate the Star-Mother.
“I remember!” said Ki’shto’ba. “If it had not been for your willingness to
approach me, terrible things might have happened. But I never knew your name. I thank you, little friend.”
Twa’sei engaged in a paroxysm of delighted
writhing. “I dare to say, Great Champion
– I dare to say how greatly I admire you!
I will serve you well. I have
worked in the orchards, and I have knowledge of the plants in the marches and
in the Apothecary Garden, and I know the smell of the wild fungi that are
edible. And between now and when we
leave, I will ask the Healer Alates to give me additional instruction. I promise I will serve both of you well. But I especially desire to serve you, Great
Huge-Head.”
Wei’tu thrust an antennae at me and spoke
confidentially. “It is da’roit’um|.[6] But it does possess the knowledge of which it
spoke, and it is very diligent. I think
we would do well to take Twa’sei along, Di’fa’kro’mi – your pardon, Holy
Remembrancer.”
“You continue to speak untowardly, Wei’tu,” I said
with resignation.
But enough of all that. We took them both with us. And neither of them ever gave us any grief …
except once … but that time was far in the future …
*
* *
If we had known what was in store for us, would we
still have set out on such an unprecedented course? I believe we would have, because we were both
in our prime – Ki’shto’ba was eight years old and I was seven – and although we
had both achieved highly and already seen more astonishing things than most any
other Shi in existence, the variety and the wonders – and the horrors and the
grief – to be found in the world still lay mostly beyond our ability to
imagine.
Gri’a’vu’tei undertook a Seeing before we left, with
the usual obscure results. He spoke of a
burning pain, yet saw no fire; he had a sense of many deaths (do not Seers
always sense death? For it is something
that never fails to occur at some point); he looked for the end of our
adventures but found them obscured behind a golden haze. He saw a rubble of stones as of an abandoned
and demolished fortress, and Warriors marching in great numbers. He saw a tree growing from the top of a
mountain and a huge bird flying like a tiny speck high above a mighty river.
“I experienced a great succession of emotions,” he
said, “some satisfying, some tormenting.
But my visions were quite general and dreamlike. I believe you will meet other Seers who will
be able to perceive your path with greater clarity. I can say with full certainty only that you
will learn more than any Shi has ever learned, and experience the greatest
adventures that any Shi has ever experienced.”
But we knew that already, so we paid little attention
to any negative implications that the Holy Seer’s visions might convey.
So we left Lo’ro’ra, the only place that three of us
had ever dwelled, and we headed west and then northwest, following the course
of the Ti’re’bu. One might ask, why did
we set off northward if our goal was to arrive at the Great Water in the
south? In fact, Ki’shto’ba wanted to
return to To’wak, to check on the situation in its home fortress; if the
Huge-Head were to find a need there, it would feel obligated to suspend its
plans for wandering and remain. I spent
much of our northward journey worrying that something like this would happen
and force me to return to Lo’ro’ra.
The weather was pleasant and the sun tempered by a
little haze, so we did not wear our magic skins. Each folded into a remarkably compact bundle,
with a small disk on the corner. This
disk was to be kept exposed to the light at all times; apparently the skins
draw in their light-magic through this object.
Wei’tu and Twa’sei were fascinated with those skins and had learned how
to accouter us in them quickly. Ki’shto’ba
was chagrined that we had no skins for our helpers; it offered to give its own
to them, cutting it into two pieces, which would have covered each of them
nicely. But both Gri’a’vu’tei and I
advised against trying to divide the magic; it likely would have ruined the
effectiveness, especially since there was only one light-disk. And Wei’tu said that both it and Twa’sei were
accustomed to working outside, so we would simply find shade to rest in when
the sun was at its height.
The journey was not difficult; Ki’shto’ba had made it
three times before and following the scent of a watercourse does not require eyes.
The river was at its lowest ebb at the
end of chi’nol|, meandering along in
little channels spread over a wide bed between banks whose deep cuts gave
indication of the strength of the Wet Time flow. River grass was everywhere, along with ti’re|, which gives the river its name,
and shbis’mu| as tall as a Shi is
long. On the outer edges of the course,
wild tho’sei| mingled with stands of
drought-yellowed shur’sei|. [7] The river grass was dried to a spikiness that
made it impossible to traverse, so we skirted the outer margins of the Sweet
Grass River, keeping its scent on our right.
As we trotted along, our helpers capered ahead of us, scaring up birds. They threatened to exhaust their energy before
we had covered half of our journey’s first stage.
We had left not long after sunrise and we walked
until half the morning had passed. [8] We had intended to go longer, but it was I
who began to flag. Alates are not
accustomed to walking long distances; my claws were getting sore, and my leg
joints felt like they were about to come apart.
So we crawled into the shade of a grove of shur’sei| and rested in the soft leaf litter.
Twa’sei proceeded to groom Ki’shto’ba, even though
there was hardly any need yet. The
Huge-Head seemed to enjoy its ministrations, conversing with it attentively as
it industriously scoured each individual belly hair. Wei’tu extracted a large container of
ointment from the commodious pack that had been bouncing against its thorax all
morning, and it started to rub my feet and leg joints with it.
“How did you happen to bring such a large quantity of
thru’nev’zi|?” [9] I
asked, splaying out blissfully on my belly.
“I knew you were undertaking something far more
ambitious than you realized, Holy Alate,” Wei’tu responded, massaging
diligently with its palps. “Star-Winged
Ones do not have much stamina.”
I started to respond testily, then felt a twinge in a
trochanter and decided not to argue the point.
“I smell fungus,” said Wei’tu. “I believe Twa’sei is feeding the Huge-Head.”
“It is, indeed.”
“Does it ever strike you as odd, honored
Remembrancer, that Warriors, the most powerful of Shshi, cannot feed
themselves?”
“It is the price Warriors pay for having
weapons. They cannot bring their
foreclaws to their mouths or their mouths to a heap of food. Even if they only want to drink, they must
have a container deep enough for the immersion of their mandibles.”
Wei’tu was swinging its antennae in circles. “I know all that. But why … ?”
“It is part of the plan of the
Highest-Mother-Who-Is-Nameless – the division into Castes for the good of
all. Each Caste has its proper gift and
no one Caste can survive without the others.
Have you never attended to my tales, Wei’tu?”
“Of course I have!
The lowest Caste, we Workers, have the ability to build and the instinct
to care for others. The second Caste,
the Warriors, have dangerous jaws and great physical strength, in order to
protect the fortress and all its citizens.
And you exalted Alates have eyes to see with, whatever that means – none
of us lesser ones can really know, or particularly care, when it comes right
down to it. But … ”
“And,” I said,
“the Nameless One granted the Alates the supreme privilege of producing the
fortress’s progenitors. Furthermore, we
were especially favored by the Highest Mother with superior intelligence.”
“Were you? I
have doubted that at times.”
Highly annoyed, I fanned my wings, flashing light
across the shade cast by the trees. Wei’tu
felt the wind from my wings and wagged its head. “You are offended – possibly with
reason. But it is the Alates, after all,
who teach all the Castes from the first moment of hatching. Sometimes I think you indoctrinate us with
notions of your superiority in order to keep the power that you lack the
physical strength to enforce. In that
respect you really are more intelligent – at least, more subtle. It was not a Worker who corrupted Commander
Hi’ta’fu and Chief Lo’lo’pai and caused the deaths of so many.”
I lay chafing under Wei’tu’s grooming, because I
totally disagreed with its point of view.
But I had no answer for that last remark, and now with the passing of
the years, I have come to see that what it said was just. There are stupid and subtle-minded Workers,
and there are stupid and subtle-minded Warriors, and the same can be said of
Alates. There is no one Caste that holds
the measure on intelligence, but we seeing Star-Wings will not allow the lesser
Castes to believe that, and so self-serving words are received as truth.
*
* *
Ki’shto’ba set a rule that not all of us should sleep
at one time. We had already seen several
of the giant predatory reptiles [10] that
morning; and some large mounds of the wild shza’zei|,
which in numbers can be fierce; and one of the big flying birds that swoop down
and seize smaller birds and lizards in their talons. So Wei’tu and Twa’sei took the first watch
together, since Wei’tu wanted to instruct its smaller and more inexperienced
sibling in what to watch for. Ki’shto’ba
took the second watch and suggested that as a Holy Alate it would not be seemly
for me to serve in so menial a capacity.
But, still smarting from Wei’tu’s accusation, I insisted on doing my
part and planned to take a third watch.
In the meantime I slept, and soundly.
Soundly, that is, until something startled me and I came to myself
thinking I had gone half-blind in one eye.
It was only a large dry-ground beetle that was climbing up my eye, but
it caused me to thrash about so violently that everybody jumped up, and in its
alarm Ki’shto’ba almost impaled Twa’sei.
I never have been fond of small, verminous insects.
About midafternoon, we went to the river to drink and
then set out again, much refreshed. As
we traveled, Wei’tu asked Ki’shto’ba why it felt the need to return to To’wak
and the Huge-Head spoke a little about its earlier life.
“The war between the fortresses of To’wak and Yak’ar
in which I earned my surname occurred when I was three years of age. To’wak’s long-time Commander was killed in
that war, and there were many large, strong, and capable Warriors who wanted to
succeed it. As time passed, the fortress
split into factions, with separate groups of Warriors and even Workers, each
supported by certain Alates, upholding the claims of each Chief. There was violence, I fear. It soon became clear that only the one who
could kill most of its opponents would prevail.
“All of the Chiefs were older than I was, except Bai’go’tha,
whose egg was laid one day after mine, but who hatched before I did. But I was exceptionally large and strong –
there was not one of the Chiefs whom I had not defeated several times in the
exercise yards – and I was a favorite of the Holy One and of our Seer, although
not of the King or the Chamberlain. And
so all the Chiefs regarded me with great distrust and uneasiness.
“But I myself felt I lacked the experience to assume
such an exalted position, and furthermore I did not wish to gain power in this
manner, by slaughter. If I were to
command, I wanted to command because everyone agreed I would do the best
job. The Nasute army had already been
allowed to pass through our territory on their way to attack Lo’ro’ra, so the
following year when the Nasutes sent scouts looking for a Champion to help
them, Bai’go’tha, who was emerging as the most powerful of the Chiefs, strongly
urged me to go. ‘You want experience,’
it said to me. ‘Here is your chance to
get it.’
“And so I went, to everyone’s relief and my own,
although I knew that it was only a ploy to get me out of the way, and that Bai’go’tha
and others were hoping I would get killed.
“But of course I did not, and when I returned, I
found that Bai’go’tha had slain all of its rivals and was in total command of
To’wak, ruling by fear.
“It did not want me back, but I stayed anyway,
largely because our Holy One Lo’zoi’ma’na’ta and Thru’tei’ga’ma the Seer
desired it. I would not accept a small
command under such a tyrant, and I tried to stay out of the way, but there were
endless conspiracies seeking to force me into fighting Bai’go’tha. I resisted all of it. I was continually facing accusations of
cowardice – I, who could have overcome four of To’wak’s Chiefs at the same time. And yet no matter how Bai’go’tha goaded me,
it did not seem at all eager to fight me.
“It had reasons for that.
“After quite a long and rather unpleasant time, I had
almost come to the point of challenging Bai’go’tha, when Kwi’ga’ga’tei’s emissary
came from Lo’ro’ra requesting me to come serve as the fortress’s Champion. Bai’go’tha seemed at once relieved and
scornful, and it taunted me, ‘Yes, go!
Escape again! But do not come
back until you have accomplished something – maybe some great wonders – a dozen
of them would do nicely! Then maybe you
will find the fiber to serve me as a Lieutenant, although that may in fact be
too good for you!’
“So I went to Lo’ro’ra and you all know the
outcome. Now I am ready to embark on
some really great wonders, but I cannot escape thinking that perhaps after more
than a season-cycle, something may have happened in To’wak that would make my
presence necessary. If Bai’go’tha has
not become a better leader, I do not think I will be willing to allow it to
remain in power, especially after what I have learned in Lo’ro’ra.”
I had not known all this about Ki’shto’ba’s earlier
life and I trudged along thinking for a while.
But then the Huge-Head really surprised us.
“Besides,” it said, “I want to see Lo’zoi’ma’na’ta
again before she dies, and I want to find out what has happened to my ni’a’zei|, for I worry about it, left
alone in To’wak.”
“Your what?” I said, and Wei’tu and Twa’sei both
cried, “What does that word mean? I do
not know that word!”
“I know what that word should mean,” I said, “but I
did not think such a thing really existed. I know of it only in tales.”
Ki’shto’ba bounced and swung amused antennae. “It is rare, but it certainly occurred in my
case. One day my beloved Mother
Lo’zoi’ma’na’ta labored mightily to bring forth only a single egg. It was a huge egg and it was of a strange
shape, bulging on one side. There was
quite a bit of excitement, for I believe that the Seer Thru’tei’ga’ma had been
having significant visions.
“Then when the
egg hatched, out I popped, twice as big as the usual nymph. But that was not all. Below me in the egg case was another, smaller
nymph. Both of us were quite alive. Naturally, it and I grew up as the closest of
friends. All of the citizens of a
fortress are siblings, but we are the only twins anyone can recollect.”
“And your twin is still alive?” I said with intense
interest. “What is its name?”
“A’zhu’lo. The
Namers were sure I would be a Warrior because of my size, so they named me
Shto, but with my twin they were not so certain, so they named it Zhu – it was
sure to be famous because of the manner of its hatching. But Zhu did turn out to be a Warrior, and so
we were given the imago names ‘Of the Invincible Mandibles’ and ‘Famous
Strength.’” [11]
“Do you think
it was safe to leave your twin in To’wak while you were gone?” asked Twa’sei. “Would it not be in danger because of its
close relation to you?”
“That is one reason I must go back. But A’zhu’lo is not a very large Warrior, and
although it does not lack fighting skills, it does not really like to
fight. So I believe that Commander Bai’go’tha
does not see it as a threat.” But Ki’shto’ba
pranced a little in a way that suggested anxiety.
I said, “What were those visions that your Seer was
having at the time your egg was laid?”
But Ki’shto’ba, ever modest, would not say. “I put little faith in the tales of Seers,
unless it be Holy Kwi’ga’ga’tei’s. What
matters is what one accomplishes in the world, not what others say ought to
happen because one exists.”
[1] Magic skins
[2] The protective gear created
a dampening field that interfered with the chemoreceptors and bioelectric
signatures that are part of an isopteroid communication
system.
[3] Ying’gwaf : Dancing Belly,
or Belly Dancer
[4]
Mortar gland; Workers of the builder Subcaste possess cephalic glands that
secrete a saliva-like fluid used as a binding agent in the construction of
stone fortresses.
[5]
Sidekick; literally, one who strikes with the claw on the body’s side; I must
confess that I occasionally indulged myself in a word-jest at the Shshi’s
expense.
[6] Struck by hero worship,
infatuated (literally, twist-headed)
[7] ti’re|: sweet grass, a short
sedge with an odor pleasant to Shshi, if less so to humans
shbis’mu| (pl. of bis’mu|):
literally, five-claw, a cycadophyte with five-lobed, sharply edged leaves
shur’sei|
(pl. of ur’sei|): literally, flat
tree, a riparian tree with an umbrella-shaped crown and narrow, drooping leaves
[8] The termite planet has a
40-hour rotation; hence when Di’fa’kro’mi refers to traveling for half a
morning, the period of time is about five Earth
hours.
[9] Literally, pleasant
ointment; a generic designation for a whole range of medicinal salves
[10] A word on lizards vs.
reptiles: I have translated dut’zei| (a generic term for small
reptilians) as “lizard,” and ar’zei| meaning
literally “heavy creature”) as “reptile.”
However, the Shshi distinguish dozens of different varieties of saurians
, which occupy many of the niches on G. Gwidian that mammalians fill on Earth.
[11] Nymphs are given
one-syllable names at hatching, and when the third molt reveals their Caste,
their names are expanded; Workers receive
two-syllable names; Warriors, three; and Alates, four. In names, a
is a meaningless place-holder, employed to achieve the proper number of
syllables.
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