Ambalasi had recovered her aplomb, was thinking now like a true scientist not a mindless fargi. Was it possible? Of course it was possible. The diversity of sexual roles, relationships, variations and inversions among the species in the world was almost infinite. So why not a variation in her own species? How far back would the breaking apart of the two have to have been? She would have to consider that. The fact of even crude communication indicated a relatively recent separation. Unless the forms of basic communication were fixed in the genes and not learned. It all became more and more interesting. Enough. Observation first, theorizing last. Facts were needed, facts and more facts.

That she had been the one to discover this . . . ! She struggled to her feet.

“Imperative now! I must see, talk, record everything about the Sorogetso.”

Enge signed patience. “You will do that, for yours is the mind of science that will disclose all. But communication first. I must learn to speak with the Sorogetso, gain their confidence, then penetrate their culture. It will take time.”

Ambalasi leaned back with a tired sigh. “Of course it will. Proceed at once. Devote your time to nothing else. Take Setèssei with you, I will relieve her of all other tasks. She is to record everything. Detailed records must be kept. My name shall roar like the bellow of a nenitesk down through the annals of time for making this discovery. Of course you will get some credit as well.”

“Your generosity is infinite,” Enge said respectfully, concealing most of her feelings; luckily Ambalasi was too involved in her own whirling thoughts to notice any negative connotations in the statement.

“Yes, of course, well-known fact. I must learn the language as well—Setèssei will bring me the recordings daily. You will learn to speak with them, gain access to their community, give them food, hopefully they will have sickness and I can give them medical aid. In doing so I will make a study of their physiology. Doors of knowledge opening—facts accumulated, soon revealed!” She looked at Enge and her expression grew stern. “But knowledge reserved for those with the capacity to understand. Just as males are kept from the casual attention of fargi and unsuited ones, so must this fact of maleness be kept from your companions.”

Enge was concerned. “But openness is the basis of our existence. We share with each other.”

“Wonderful. But this fact is not for sharing.” She pressed the point when she saw that Enge was still doubtful. “I make a comparison. A Yilanè would not put a hèsotsan in the hand of a yiliebe fargi with the sea still wet on her hide. It would mean death for the fargi or others. The maleness of the Sorogetso could be a weapon, a cultural poison, a threat. Do you understand that and agree?”

“I do,” with grave reservations.