“We must discard unhappiness. This Yilanè of great wisdom whom I have been speaking with may be our salvation. Now let me see and meet with our sisters here, for I wish to know them all.”

Ambalasi stepped aside as they greeted each other and waited with stolid patience until she was aware of a Yilanè who appeared before her and signed respectful attention.

“Are you Shakasas<?” Ambalasi asked.

“I was, before the time of my understanding. Because of my joy at accepting Ugunenapsa’s words I am now called Elem. What do you wish of me, Ambalasi?”

“The answer to a single question. I have heard that you once served on the crew of an uruketo. Is this true?”

“When I was first Yilanè it was my pleasure. This led me to my interest in air and sea currents. The mysteries of navigation became my study, and through them my interest in the work of Ugunenapsa.”

“Explanation satisfactory. Now tell me who leads you?”

“Ugunenapsa, for it is her example—”

“Enough! I refer to your physical presence in this despicable orchard. Who among you is in charge?”

“None, for we are all equal. . . .”

Ambalasi silenced her with a rude gesture normally used only when commanding fargi, raking her toenails along the ground with great agitation. “Silence! Your Ugunenapsa has a lot to answer for. There must be someone who stands above you in this hierarchy of mindlessness. Enge, do you see her there?, good. Can she command you?”

“Certainly. I have heard much of her and her wisdom and would willingly do as she commanded.”

“At last, communication. The three of us will speak together at once. After that has been done you will stay by my side at all times and will do as I order. Will you do this if she tells you to?”

Elem signed pleased agreement and Ambalasi dismissed her quickly before she could begin again on Ugunenapsa.

The island just off the coast of Gendasi*, south of Alpèasak, was small and crowded with quickly grown structures, most of them little more than covers to keep the rain off. Only the joined rooms where Ukhereb labored had any look of permanence, solidity. The eistaa, Lanefenuu, had been taken there when she emerged from the uruketo that had brought her across the ocean, but she listened to the explanations with bored disinterest, caring only about the results of the scientists’ labors, not the details. Only the masinduu drew more than casual attention.

“This is very amusing,” Lanefenuu said. “You must grow me one to take back to Ikhalmenets. I have never seen anything like it before.”