Kiel shook his head. "Our orders are clear. Until we find some trace of the object, or until it is clear that none such object exists, we’ll just have to remain near this world and document all that we learn for the Seynorynaelian Federation."
"But that should take less than one revolution.” Broah protested.
“You don’t know that.” Ioka reminded her.
“What is the point of lingering here? I say we go home,” said Broah.
"I have an idea, but I need all of your approval." Kiel began. The others stilled to listen.
“An idea? This should be enlightening,” Celekar said, folding his arms across his chest.
"We’re going to use Hinev's mixtures to blend semi-permanently into the inhabitants again." Kiel said firmly.
"Why bother?” Kellar cocked an eyebrow. “If we disguise ourselves with the power of the “cloak”, they won’t notice us."
“They might, if we use our powers,” said Kiel.”
“Well, what is your idea?” Kellar said, smiling as he picked up on Kiel’s conspiratorial mood. “I haven’t been on a terrestrial foray in centuries.”
"Of course, Hinev's mixtures won’t dissemble our height and slightly different facial structure," Gerryls commented, drawing eyes that had begun to register the possibilities of a long surface recon.
"Then attempt temporary genetic structure alteration." Kiel countered. “Or, we can cover ourselves with fur cloaks when we travel on foot.”
"On foot? I am glad I’m not going down there." Gerryls said. "And yes, we could still use our powers without worrying about disrupting the cloak if we prepare Hinev’s mixtures. But what do you have in mind?" Gerryls asked, managing to sound uninterested.
"We’re going to live among the natives while we’re here." Kiel said. “For as long as we have to. We are going to teach them how to live better lives.”
"What are you talking about, Kiel?” Lierva said, upset. “We can't interfere with the indigenous life on any undeveloped world. It’s not our place to do anything for them—to change them in any way.”
“We don’t have an inexhaustible supply of Hinev’s mixtures, either,” Gerryls commented in a mild tone.
"I thought of a problem. It may be dangerous to absorb so many memories and habits so deeply by mindlinks, if we couldn’t shed the new patterns in the course of time.” Kiel said.
“Yes, I am getting rather tired and actually overloaded with information in my brain that shouldn’t be there.” Said Lierva.
“I understand.” Said Kiel. “However, I feel that if we try, we may be able to gradually introduce some technological advances that will help this species of humanoid in their development. If we guide them, they will pass on the knowledge they have learned to future generations."
"But why, Kiel? What is the point? Why should we risk a contact that may harm them?” Lierva insisted. “Why invest the time and effort for this particular race?” She demanded.
"Marankeil has taken a great interest in this world." Kiel replied. "I don’t know why or what may come of it, but these people are humanoids, like we were many thousands of years ago.”
“It doesn’t mean we owe them a thing—in fact, we owe them their own autonomy and to leave here without changing a thing.” Peilann interrupted.
“Yes, Hinev let’s leave them alone,” Derstan added.
“You may be right,” admitted Kiel, “but Marankeil would eliminate them before they had a chance to grow and develop if he wanted to steal something from their world.” Kiel insisted.
“Or if he desired to send a Federation colony here.” Gerryls nodded, agreeing with him.
“I honestly don’t know why, but I feel that they should have as much of a chance to evolve, to develop a civilization as any of the peoples of the Great Cluster.” Kiel said quietly. “Anyway, how much time does it take for some of the simplest innovations to be discovered?" He continued. "I'm not suggesting we teach them anything beyond what they would naturally discover in time. But since we’ve been ordered to stay here and find this thing Marankeil wants, which might take from now until the supercontinent plates drift to the other side of the planet and form a whole again, we might as well do what we can to help the native population.”
“What does ‘help’ entirely mean?” asked Peilann.
“It means we help them along towards the path to knowledge. Teach them what they might need to know, and be there to encourage their ideas."
“I don’t agree with you, but I’ll still support you.” Kellar said gravely, nodding.
"I don’t know what to think about this, but I will also do as you want." Alessia said, surprising Lierva—and herself. "When we give our report, who’s to say that Marankeil won’t send others here to plunder this world if he can’t do it directly?”
“It’s clear that Marankeil is searching for something valuable to be found on this world.” Kiel said. “And he isn’t in the habit of making his wishes clear until he has no other choice–he wouldn’t have let us even know of his interest if it hadn't been necessary to make us search for him. Yet he won’t tell us exactly what he wants–maybe he believes our knowledge would jeopardize his sole possession of whatever prize is buried here."
“So now our last mission begins,” said Kellar.
* * * * *
As it turned out, of all the explorers, only Kellar remained aboard ship to monitor the planet during the first interlude on the surface. Gerryls had designed them all appropriate clothing to match that which was being worn by the humanoids living in the area near the wide river they had found, but instead of heading directly for them, Hinev's explorers set up their own camp by the water, hoping for a random encounter.
Kiel had decided that it was unlikely a group of humans would simply approach each other in such great numbers, not least to ask if they might join their camp and observe them. Kiel was going to have to orchestrate careful contact, in case the humanoids decided to become violent and defend their territory.
From the memories Kellar's scout group had absorbed telepathically, the team set to work to duplicate the inhabitants' daily patterns of fishing, hunting, making tools and clothing, and cooking and preserving meat and other foods.
Twelve rotations of the planet passed when the first human being accidentally burst into their camp.
Alessia, Lierva, Broah, Ioka, Filaria, Peilann, Mindra, and Vala were sitting by the river bank around a grounded fire, cleaning and cooking the fish that Kiel, Onracey, Gerryls, Wen-eil, and Celekar had caught. The five men had gone further downstream to a narrow meander, leaving the women on the banks beside the camp.
"I have to admit," Lierva laughed suddenly, interrupting the silent activity, "that I enjoy this."
Vala looked up at her, her eyes dubious, but only to tease her. She didn’t admit it, but she also found the work a refreshing change, though in some way it was just like cataloging dead specimens in her lab. The present environment had a lot to do with her difference in attitude, she supposed.
"You mean you enjoy it here? But Lierva, you hate to sit longer than a moment, and you fidget with anything put in your hands."
"I showed patience enough to make those spears Celekar used this morning." Lierva rejoined. "Besides, what I meant was–it's somehow easier to be at peace here. The rushing river makes such a beautiful song, with the breezes in the forest leaves and those pretty birds that fly, who sing so enthusiastically each morning."
Suddenly they heard a loud cry of a human being under the forest canopy. A man in a fur and leather outfit stumbled from the trees moments later, aiming his spear at his invisible assailant. A large gash on his thigh dripped blood onto the ground, and he limped back several feet, unaware of his audience.
The grunts of some wild creature that had attacked him diminished, and satisfied that he had driven the creature away, the man fell to the gr
ound.
The group of women rushed towards him, ignoring the stench of his unwashed, sweat-soaked clothes. Oblivious to the sensitivities of civilized people, the man turned his head around at the sound, suddenly alert again. He held up his spear as if to strike, concerned that they meant him harm. But he couldn’t kill all of them even if he tried. And something in their eyes–the looks of concern–assured him that they were not hostile.
He allowed them to surround him and examine his thigh. One of the women nodded to the other, and the two of them helped him to his feet with amazing strength. One of the others then surprised him by addressing him in his own language.
"We’ll take you back to our camp, if you’ll let us. Your wound is deep, and requires immediate attention." He nodded, letting the two women lift him under the arms with their tall shoulders and help him towards the fires of a small camp that had never been in this part of the land before.
* * * * *
By the time the man Deloch's wound had been tended, he had seen enough of the camp's activities to be certain that they were some of his own people. He didn’t know where their group had come from or why they hadn’t been encountered before, but their manner, speech, and ways were as familiar to him as those of his own home. The women who tended him applied a poultice that smelled of the same solution of palliatives his own camp's healer used.
He could of course have no comprehension of the reality that Alessia's bandage also contained some powerful Seynorynaelian medicine, medicine that would heal his skin quickly and minimize the scarring.
After three days, Deloch wished to return to his own camp, but he extended a welcome for them to visit the group in which his father was leader. His father would want to thank the people that had saved his son. The men had been on a small hunting party when they were caught off guard by three wild durvig. They had been separated, and Deloch had been pursued by one of the irate creatures for some distance until he turned to make a stand against the beast. He knew that his camp couldn’t have found him so far from the hunting group and wouldn’t have known in what direction he had gone. Perhaps Eleg had already mourned the death of his son.
During the three days, Deloch had found certain things about the explorers' camp puzzling: for one, there were no children, but most of the group were young men and women, equally divided. For another thing, only a few had apparently become life-pairs. Deloch began to wonder if the camp were as young as its leader. Perhaps the younger members of a camp had split off from the older to start their own camp. That explained why they had not yet formed life-pairs, and why they had suddenly appeared in the area. They must have just journeyed into this land.
Deloch began to wonder if the woman Ales who tended him would consider leaving her camp to become his life-partner. As son of his camp's leader, any woman of his own camp would be honored to join with him. Ales was tall and beautiful, skilled, and dependably strong, like the other women in this strange tribe. Her clear blue eyes were as deep, expressive, and moving as the river itself. Her children would be strong, he realized and smiled at her, forming brief ideas of their future life together.
Alessia smiled back at him and excused herself to go get some water. But on her way, she stopped to speak with Kiel and Gerryls, who were busy making awls and crude knives.
Kiel nodded his understanding moments later as Alessia left to return to Deloch.
They had not anticipated some of the complications contact had brought. The explorers could not remain among them, nor have children, and the lack of the latter would certainly raise questions. Alessia was right. They couldn’t remain among these people for very long, but they had learned from their first mistakes. They would have to live as nomads on this planet.
* * * * *
A small group of ten explorers were invited to accompany Deloch on his return home. Alessia, Kiel, Gerryls, Celekar, Ioka, Talden, Derstan, and the others joined the young hunter as he led them by the river many miles to a small camp under the cliff side, on a high grassy bank above the water.
The explorers were given a feast to thank them for their assistance, and the men were invited on several hunting expeditions. Upon seeing Deloch's remarkable recovery, Madís, the healer of his camp, fell into several discussions with the woman Ales and the man Gerr on the subject of healing and medicine. But their beliefs of the cause of disease and infection shocked her. Of course she knew there were small, evil demons in the air and within the body that attacked and caused disease and death, but how did cauterizing wounds or boiling water make any difference to anyone? Such odd magic ritual, she thought. Still, a woman familiar with the concept of trial and error, Madís did not discard their other suggestions lightly.
Kiel and Celekar showed Deloch's people how they might improve their art of tool making, how to fashion awls, even how to make hunting weapons out of obsidian, a natural volcanic glass that fashioned blades much sharper than worked flint. In the evenings, Vala recounted fearsome stories she had learned, of ancient deeds in the lands of Seynorynael.
Deloch's people accepted the explorers as a member tribe after a full cycle of the moon, but the explorers reluctantly declined the offer to join their camp. They were on a long journey and could not rest–despite their explanation, Deloch's people grasped to understand them, but in the end couldn’t. Game was plenty and with the increased numbers the camp might protect itself from its northern neighbors. But when nothing could dissuade Kiel, the natives and the strange young tribe wished each other farewell.
“It’s touching,” Talden whispered to Alessia as they departed, as though the sense of this had suddenly stuck him deeply. “They’re sincerely sad to see us leave.”
“Yes, they are,” Alessia agreed.
“Though they would kill another tribe of their own race, they accepted us as brothers.”
“Only because we deceived them and saved the life of one of their own.” Alessia rejoined quietly.
“Yes, but what choice do we have?” Vala added, joining the conversation.
“Ales!” One of the natives called, interrupting. They turned to see Deloch running towards them, something small swinging on a cord in his hand. With a smile, Deloch gave the pendant to Alessia, a beautiful piece of primitive craftsmanship made of polished stones, with a tear-shaped amber centerpiece. Then he turned aside and returned to the camp of his people.
The explorers knew that the gift was valuable to Deloch’s people, who believed that the electrical properties of the amber were magical; distracted, Alessia turned it over several times in her hand.
“You can respect them.” Kiel said as they turned away for the last time. “They’re a strong race, but–”
“No match for any technologically advanced civilization.” Derstan finished.
“Yes,” Kiel nodded, his eyes hardening. “But I won’t let Marankeil conquer these people, or turn this planet into a colony. Into one of our colonies.”
“Kiel–” Vala protested, surprised. “How do you know what Marankeil has planned for this world?”
“I don’t,” he replied, “but something tells me I won’t like it when we do find out.”
“We can’t disobey our orders, no matter how we feel about them personally.” Derstan reminded him firmly.
“Yes, of course,” Kiel’s voice had a hard edge to it, suddenly, strangely. “But it wouldn’t be against any of our orders to arm these people with what knowledge we can give them–while we’re searching for Marankeil’s singularity.”
“No, it certainly wouldn’t.” Vala agreed. “We’d be gathering data all the while, and–and if it helps this population to maintain their freedom someday, I have a feeling you wouldn’t regret our part in that.” She abruptly turned to Kiel.
“You know me too well.” Kiel admitted.
Who, my friends, is superior to death?
Only the gods live forever under
the sun.
As for mankind, numbered are their days;
Whatever they achieve is but the wind!
–The Epic of Gilgamesh, 2000 B.C.
Chapter Twelve
The scorching desert sun directly overhead bleached the colors from the dry salty air, washing out the blue sky around the village. Alessia sat on the ground with her legs before her, leaning against a stall made of lashed reeds in a small farming and trading community near the wide river, where keelless papyrus rafts drifted in the nearby waters far ahead down the road.
The sand itched under her homespun robe, but she took little notice; she kept her head bent low, listening to the far off call of birds and the low drone of the merchants selling their wares around her. An elderly man sitting on a mat under the shade, a wise man and tutor who had once lived in the nearby palace of the per-ao, was telling his usual stories of the kings and of far away places to a group of children who had gathered at his feet, when suddenly one of the children asked where the great sages had come from.
“They came from a far off land to the west, where ships of long ago once sailed before our people lost the knowledge of ancient days. Past the mouth of the Great Green our traders went then, to the great island of Atlantis.”
Alessia straightened to listen.
“But didn’t our ships fall over the edge of the sea?” one of the children asked.
“No, the island lay near the edge of the world.” The wise man Khnum replied, showing dark teeth.
“Why don’t we go there anymore?”
“I’m afraid we can’t, my son.” Khnum explained. “We’ve lost the ships of the first sages.”
“Where is the great island, Khnum?” another boy asked, wide-eyed.
“Atlantis, my son, is no more.” Khnum replied gravely. “The island sank many generations ago, but Atum, Nut, and Shu saved some of its sages, who escaped and came here.’
“When, Khnum?”
“Well, let me see now.” The wise man scratched his greasy scalp. “If I can recall the time correctly, it was... in the time of...”