Each morning, before the work began, the project leaders, like all of the other citizens of the city, would be sure to pass through the ambesed. There they would stop for awhile and talk to one another. This large, open area in the heart of the city was the hub around which all of its varied activities revolved. Vaintè went to her favored spot on the west side where the rising sun struck first, deep in thought and unaware of the citizens who moved aside to let her pass. She was the Eistaa, the one who always walked in a straight line. The bark of the tree was already warm and she leaned against it with satisfaction, her pupils contracting to narrow slits as the rising sun washed over her. She looked on with great satisfaction as Alpèasak stirred to life. This brought her a different warmth that was even more enjoyable. Pride of place, the highest place, for this was her city. Hers to grow, to build, to expand, to create out of a wilderness on this hostile shore. She would build well. When the cold winds swept over distant Inegban* this new city would be ready. Then her people would come and live here and honor her for what she had accomplished. When she thought of this there was always the small irritating memory in the back of her mind that on the day when this happened she would no longer be Eistaa here. Malsas< would come with the others, Malsas<, Eistaa of Inegban*, and destined to rule the new city as well. Perhaps. Vaintè kept that word most secret and never spoke it aloud. Perhaps. Many things happened in the course of time. Malsas< was no longer young, there were those who pushed from below; everything changes with time. Vaintè would cross that river when she came to it. It was enough for now to build the new city—and build well.

Etdeerg caught Vaintè’s eye and came at once at her gesture.

“Have you found what was killing the food animals?” Vaintè asked.

“We have, Eistaa. A large ustuzou, black in color, with deadly claws and long sharp teeth—teeth so long that they project from the creature’s mouth even when the mouth is closed. Stallan had traps set near the opening that it had torn in the fence. We found it there, dead, this morning. It was held by the traps on its legs so it could not flee, while one of them had circled its neck and had strangled the beast.”

“Decapitate it. When the skull is cleaned bring it to me.”

Vaintè signaled dismissal and caught Vanalpè’s attention at the same time. The biologist left the group she was talking to and came to join her.

“You will report on the new beach,” Vaintè said.