04. The Return of Nathan Brazil (36 page)

"Diseased!
I'll have you know that this tree is one of the best in all Awbri! Why, alone, all year it supports twenty-two people! Now what do you think of
that?
"

"To be honest," she said truthfully, "I couldn't care less. I'm sorry I called your tree diseased, but I would very much like to know how to get off it and where to go from there. Don't you have some sort of government here, some kind of authority?"

He cocked his head slightly, as if thinking about something. "Well, I suppose you can go to the local Council. We don't need much here in Awbri; no big government or things like that. The Council's the biggest thing about here, so that's where you should go. The cowbrey bush in the center of the glade yonder, maybe half a kilometer that way." He pointed with a foot, idly, index finger outstretched. Truly there were no differences between hands and feet on these people.

She looked in the indicated direction but could see nothing but trees and undergrowth.

"How do I get there?" she asked him. "Walk along the branches from tree to tree?"

He gave a sound that sounded like spitting. "If you want to, sure. But you can fly through a lot easier. The way's been cut, as you can see."

She stared. It was true. Openings had been cut, trimmed through the lush growth like roadways in the air. But—fly?

"I—I don't know how to fly," she told him.

He made that sound again. "Damn! Well, I don't have time to teach you. Crawl along, then; you'll get there sooner or later."

And suddenly he was off, before she could say another word, shaking the tree again as he leaped into the air, spreading hands and feet and opening his fan tail, sailing off down one of those avenues.

She sighed and started to make her way along the branches in the direction he'd indicated. She couldn't say much for the manners of these people but there were some possibilities here that were exciting. Never had she felt so keen a sense of balance nor fantastic depth perception! To fly, like that—man?—had flown!

She would learn, she told herself. She would soar effortlessly through space with confidence someday. She could hardly wait.

The journey was not without its problems. The branches were often several meters apart and she was a long time getting the confidence to jump from one to another over such a wide gap. She always made it, though, with unerring accuracy.

She met other—people—too. Most ignored her or looked at her strangely but none bothered to stop and talk. They jumped from every limb of every tree and they flew all over the place, mostly going to and fro on errands that were unclear to her. A few were more obvious; they scampered up and down thick trunks and off onto limbs great and small, spraying and cutting and pruning their trees. Clearly these trees were life in them, they ate their leaves and fruit, they lived symbiotically.

Here and there she came across spots clear to the sun above or to the forest floor below. She immediately understood why the man had wondered at her request to go down; it was an ugly swamp down there, covered with sticky mud, stagnant water, and the occasional growth. Occasionally she spotted great, nasty-looking reptiles, all teeth, lying in mud holes or sliding through the bogs. Not the kind of creatures she really wanted to meet on their own ground. Fortunately, none looked capable of climbing trees.

She finally reached the glade, a nobby knoll of high ground atop which grew the largest tree she'd ever seen, a great green ball that towered above the other trees and masked the sky that should have been visible. It was a good hundred meters or more from the end of her tree to the beginning of the great one.

The muddy swamp was still below her, then the knoll rose, covered with sharp grass stalks leading up to the tree. A large number of Awbrians flitted back and forth effortlessly above the swamp, but she was hesitant. A hundred meters was a long way and she couldn't possibly manage that kind of jump.

She called out to passing Awbrians but they ignored her pleas and went on about their business, only an occasional passing glance showing that she was being ignored, not overlooked.

She sighed. The light was growing dim; darkness was something she would not like to face here without some kind of refuge. She cursed Obie if he had indeed made her this, and she cursed the Awbrians who ignored her. She was a High Priestess, damn it all! She was used to making an utterance and having it instantly carried out. Never before had she felt so ignored and helpless.

Never before had she felt so alone.

She heard a rustle and an Awbrian landed near her, vibrating the tree. She was used to it by now.

"You look like you're in trouble," the creature remarked. "Are you hurt?"

She turned anxiously, relieved to find a friendly voice, relieved that somebody had acknowledged her existence.

"No, I'm not hurt, thanks," she responded. "I'm just new. I'm—well, I was a different kind of creature until I woke up here a few hours ago. I'm confused and alone and scared."

The Awbrian, a female, clicked her bill in sympathy. "An Entry, huh? And I guess somebody sent you to the Elders."

She nodded. "I guess so. These—Elders. They're the same as the village Council?"

The other made a head motion that also seemed to be a nod. "Yes, sort of. I guess they are the ones to handle you." She turned, facing the tree. "There's only one way to get there. It's easy."

"You mean—fly?" Yua was more than hesitant.

"Sure. Oh, it won't quite be flying here. Just get an idea of the breeze, go with it, jump off like you were aiming at a nearby branch, spread out your arms, legs, and tail, and look straight at the cowbrey bush there. You'll get there. You won't fall. Trust me and don't panic. When I jump off, you follow right away." She poised for the leap.

"Wait!" Yua cried. "Let me get my courage up for this. Tell me—this land is called Awbri?"

"That's right," the other agreed. "Well, come on. It's getting dark and I don't like to be away from my tree at night." With that she launched herself.

Steeling herself, Yua, too, jumped off and spread her tail and the folds of skin. She was amazed at how the air seemed to push against her, keeping her aloft as if in a long leap, although she was falling, very slowly, and the whole thing felt like descending in an elevator.

It was actually only thirty seconds or so until she reached the tree, but it seemed an eternity, and she feared she wasn't going to make it. She didn't dare look down, though; she kept her eyes on the tree and on the friendly woman nearby.

And now she was there, in the branches. She grabbed and hung on for all she was worth. That she had done it did nothing to calm her down, so she clung tightly to the limb until the shakes had subsided somewhat.

Her friend had already scampered off deep into the interior of the tree but Yua was in no condition to follow.

Several minutes later the woman was back, looking slightly amused at Yua's still trembling perch. "Oh, come on! You did the worst of it! Follow me. I've told the Elder's Secretary that you are an Entry and here and they want to see you immediately. Hurry along now! I have to be getting home. It's almost too late." And with that she was off.

Yua followed her with her eyes until the woman was out of sight. I never even knew her name, she thought. Taking a few deep breaths she relaxed and headed into the interior of the cowbrey bush.

The entrance was easy to spot as she approached the great trunk, for there was a large door in the tree, decorated with unfamiliar carved symbols. Yua opened the door hesitantly and entered.

Oil lanterns lit the interior; it was bright, cheery, and absolutely hollow. For a plant that appeared so healthy outside it was a nothing in its base.

A large male was seated behind a carved wooden desk writing with what appeared to be a quill pen. He looked something like a great duck-billed squirrel wearing large horn-rimmed bifocals.

He stopped writing and looked up at her. "You are the Entry?" he asked crisply.

She nodded. "I am Yua, formerly of Olympus," she told him.

He sat back, relaxed. "We don't get many Entries," he told her. "You're the first I've ever met. Had a devil of a time going through the manuals of procedure to see what is to be done with you." He gestured at a large bookcase filled with impressive-looking red-bound volumes.

"However, the first thing I'm supposed to do is welcome you to Awbri. Welcome. The second is to give you this little speech."

She sighed and relaxed. The Awbrians were a tough people to like.

"First of all, we don't know who or what you were before you came here," he continued, "nor do we care. That is irrelevant. You are on the Well World to stay and the sooner you forget your former life and adjust to your new one the better off you'll be. You are now an Awbrian. This, too, will not change. You come to us from an alien form, but, more important, you come from an alien culture. Adjusting to your new physical form will be relatively easy; the cultural adjustment, however, is very difficult. You must accept the culture that has existed here for tens of thousands of years before you were born. You will probably not like it at first, will find it uncomfortable or hard to accept. The important thing to remember is that it
is
the culture here, it
is
the product of millennia of social evolution, and it works for us. We will do what we can to help you in that adjustment. Any questions?"

"Hundreds," she replied. "But—tell me of this culture. I have seen some of it and guessed some, but I would like to know it all."

"You'll learn it in the days to come," the secretary assured her. "However, some basics. We are divided into family groups, each group having a tree. It is their tree and no other's. You can use another family's tree to pass through, but for no other purpose. Almost all the trees are hollow, as is this one, and those are used for living quarters. If a tree is carefully managed it can support a reasonable population, since the rainforest climate here allows phenomenal growth. For every five thousand population there is a village Council on which the wisest men called Elders, sit. Age is revered here. There is also, off in Gaudoi, around the Well Gate, a Maintenance Administration that makes sure the paths and airways are kept clear, administers what little trade there is between the various villages, and settles intervillage disputes."

"I notice you say wisest
men,
" she said carefully. "Then it is the men who run things here?"

The secretary's bill opened slightly in surprise. He was not ready for the question and thought a moment.

"There is a division of responsibility, culturally," he replied. "Exterior maintenance of the tree, cultivation of leaves and fruits and the careful management of the harvest, are the responsibility of the males, who also assume the role of protector of the tree and family against anything. They also represent the family group to the outside. Females have the responsibility for internal maintenance, including cleaning, furnishing, and decorating, as well as food preparation and distribution and the bearing and rearing of the young."

It didn't sound like such a logical deal to Yua, but she let it go for now.

"What about professions?" she asked. "Surely not everyone is a tree farmer."

"There are some," the secretary told her. "I am of the professions. There are, after all, a large number of excess males for whom there is nothing in family life to offer support. Doctors, lawyers, traders, and maintenance personnel are needed. Those books had to be written by someone and printed and bound and distributed by others, for example."

She frowned. "Excess males? No females?"

He cleared his throat lightly. "I know that there are some cultures where the females have a different role, but not here. I mean, after all, one male can, ah, service a number of females but not the other way around. It is only logical, you see."

She didn't see the logic of it at all. It was more than a slight shock to come from a culture where males were almost nonexistent and used for only one purpose, anyway, to such a culture as this.

"So what is my place in such a culture?" she asked warily.

"Tonight you'll sleep here as the guest of the Elders," he responded casually. "Tomorrow you'll be interviewed by them, then placed with a family willing to accept you."

She didn't like that. "And suppose I don't want to go with that family—or any other?"

He actually chuckled. "Oh, there is no choice. After all, what would you eat? And where? Where would you sleep at night? You see? Here you must have a family and a tree or you starve and die. Don't worry, though. There are potions, things like that, to help you adjust, forget your former cultural patterns and fit in."

The fact was that it
did
worry her. She didn't want to be drugged and passed on to some oppressive, nasty male to whom she was only a bearer of babies. She couldn't afford to be. She had been sent to the Well World not as a refugee but as a soldier. She had things to do, and this sort of life was not part of it, would
never
be a part of her existence.

But—she had no really clear idea of what it was she was supposed to do once here. Obie had said that things would work out so that she'd know when the time was ripe, but when would that be? What if he was wrong? What if Awbri wasn't where and what she was supposed to be?

She didn't know what to do, and, worse, she had only one night to figure something out.

She only knew that this wasn't what she expected, not at all . . .

South Zone

"THEY'VE BEEN COMING THROUGH STEADILY," ORTEGA said to the Southern ambassadors and the representative from the North. "So far we're processing about one hundred an hour and there's no sign of stoppage. In fact, the number continues to grow. Already we've called upon some of you to supply extra manpower, even army units, to keep everything orderly—but that won't last. We're literally being flooded with people!"

"What about simply leaving them in the chamber?" an ambassador asked. "Won't that block the arrival of newcomers?"