The fargi were having difficulty in rounding up the beasts for the daily slaughter. Something was disturbing them, they kept rushing from one side of the pen to the other, even knocking down one of the fargi, their eyes rolling so that they shone whitely. The Yilanè in charge was shouting loud orders to no avail. She was suddenly aware of a crackling noise and a strange, pungent smell. She turned about to see the sheets of sunlight climbing skywards, black stormclouds behind them. The smell came again, and a wave of warm and delightful air. What was happening, what could this mean? She could only stand and stare as the flames came close, licking at the nearby trees. Wonderfully warm. The animals were screaming behind her as she walked over and held her hand to the warmth and light. Then she screamed as well.

Ikemend opened the hanalè door a crack and looked out. Akotolp made a peremptory gesture of command, ordering her to open it wide.

“First you send for me—then you block my way,” the fat scientist said, her jowls waggling at the affront. “Admit me at once.”

“I abase myself,” Ikemend said, ushering Akotolp in, then sealing the entrance behind her. “The males have been quarreling again, it is the weather perhaps. There is an injury. . .”

“Bring the creature here at once.”

The firmness in her voice and the abrupt movements of her body sent Ikemend scurrying away. She returned almost at once pulling a truculent Esetta* after her.

“This is the one,” she said, pushing the male forward. “Starts fights, causes trouble, got what he deserves.”

Akotolp ignored this as she seized Esetta*’s arm and turned it over to examine it. Her thumbs gave an extra squeeze when she did this and Esetta*, his back turned to the guardian, half-closed one eye in a sultry gesture. Akotolp always enjoyed these visits to the hanalè.

“Scratches, nothing more, antiseptic will take care of this. Males will be males. . .” She broke off suddenly and raised her bead, her nostril flaps opening wide as she sniffed the air.

“That smell—I know that smell,” she said, agitation and worry in the movements of her limbs. She hurried to the outer door and opened it despite Ikemend’s protests. The smell was stronger now, the air filled with it.

“Smoke,” Akotolp called out, worry and concern strongly present. “Smoke comes from one chemical reaction only—fire.”

Esetta* drew back trembling at the strength of Akotolp’s feelings, while Ikemend could only signal stupidity and lack of understanding. The smoke thickened suddenly and a distant crackling could be heard. There was now urgency and the necessity for speed in Akotolp’s command.

“There is a reaction called fire and we could be in danger. Assemble the males at once, quickly, they must be taken from here.”

“I have no orders!” Ikemend wailed.