So Long Been Dreaming (34 page)

I stared after her with tear-filled eyes. Why had I said that? I’m so ashamed. Now I understand a little more why she acts the way she does, but that doesn’t excuse my behaviour. I must go to the Mother Stone, make an offering, and try to regain my internal harmony. Like a disease, these people are destroying our peace. And, if I am honest with myself, I must admit that Sleek and the others frighten me. Her questions and her anger make me uncomfortable. Is she right? Are we too complacent and judgmental? I have to go help Sun Fire with the children.

Korn-Ripening Moon, sun-turning 17

The entire village is in an uproar after what happened last night. Someone stole some of Granny Night Wind’s uiskajac. It was fermenting in a big wooden barrel at the back of her compound. When Sand Walker went to check on the brew, he found the barrel only half full. Granny Night Wind was furious. She threatened to give the persons responsible a bad case of “the itch” when she finds them. Whoever did it is either very brave – or crazy. She is a powerful shamanka; the spirits obey her. Still, it was funny to see her stomping around, looking under everything – people leaping out of her way – or jumping to do her bidding.

Rain-Comes-Back Moon, sun-turning 2

These young ones, so corrupted by poor food and alien drugs, have grown up spindly, like unhappy plants shaded from the sun. The last human crop of their tormented, polluted world is a pitiful one indeed. Will their life-patterns be suitable to mingle with ours? My people need the flow of new genes or we may perish in spite of all our Benefactor’s efforts. I am so afraid for my children. The birth defects and terminations are so many. I fear for my daughter Tukta. She is so young and so happy with her new man.

Ah, but Dra’hada says not to give up hope. We will salvage what we can from this last harvest. And if that is not enough, our Benefactors will collect the seeds of other worlds and crossbreed them with ours. Our descendants may not be the same in appearance as we are, but some part of us will survive. And the land will always remember us. Our bodies will lie in the cool ground until the blood memories of our species have passed into the crystals of the bedrock itself.

Rain-Comes-Back Moon, sun-turning 4

Jimtalbot and Bethbrant were troubled by a crazy rumour they’d heard, and came this evening to ask me if it might be true.

“One of the guys from Earth living at Black Rock Village said that Earth isn’t really destroyed,” Jimtalbot told me.

I looked into their troubled faces and felt a shiver run down my spine. “What? Why would he say such a thing? Of course the Earth Mother is gone. Why else would our Benefactors have brought you here?”

“Why indeed, Qwalshina?” Jimtalbot said. “Could the – uh – Benefactors be planning some weird experiment? Something that they need live humans, or human body parts for?”

I was shocked, speechless. “Experiment? No, of course not. That’s preposterous. Who said such a thing? I must tell Dra’hada; who is it?”

Their expressions became closed at that point. Jimtalbot mumbled that he didn’t know the man’s name, but I was sure he was lying to me. He looked at Bethbrant and they started to walk away, but I stopped them. “Please wait. If you don’t wish me to tell Dra’hada, Jimtalbot, I won’t, but listen to me. There is no truth to this rumour. I felt Earth Mother’s death agony myself – through the Communion – we all did. The pain was almost unbearable. Truly She is gone. And, there is no planned experiment. Our Benefactors only wish us well.”

“If your people were also a part of their design, you might not be aware of the experiment either,” Bethbrant said.

“No, we would know if they were using us in that way. We have been here for generations. My father was a man of the Tsa’La’Gui people. His ancestors were brought here when pale-skinned invaders from across a big ocean came and took their land. My mother’s people came here long before my fathers. They were Crunich and lived on the island of Erin before the black-robed ones with their dead god came and stole the island’s soul. There are others from Earth Mother here too, rescued from disaster as you were. Our Benefactors wish only good for us. And, no matter our origin on Earth, we are all one people now, the children of Tallav’Wahir. There has never been any experiment. Please believe me.”

When I finished talking to them, they seemed convinced that it was all a crazy, made-up lie. But later the children told me that a group of our charges walked down the beach together to talk something over in private. Did I do right to promise not to tell Dra’hada? This is very troubling. I must go to the Mother Stone and tell Her my concerns.

Falling Leaves Moon, sun-turning 5

Sleek’s tattooed friend and six other youths have developed a terrible case of “the itch.” No common healing remedy has worked. Poor lads – I know they’re miserable – and I shouldn’t laugh at their misfortunes, but it
is
funny to watch them trying to scratch all those hard-to-reach places. Rain’s twins were in on the scheme. One of them finally broke down and confessed. About half of the stolen uiskajac was brought back. Granny is keeping the offenders in suspense for one more night, but she told me privately that she would forgive them, and give them a healing salve tomorrow.

Falling Leaves Moon, sun-turning 25

Sleek and I took the children for a walk on the knoll today. We piled up great mountains of leaves and had fun jumping into them. I tired before they did, but felt so good just watching them. I think my new daughter loves playing like a child when none of her Earth friends are around to ridicule her. She is recreating the happy childhood she didn’t have on Earth, and it is a joy to see her so.

Later we gathered siba fruit and roasted it on sticks over an open fire, and everyone sang songs. I found myself wishing Tukta could have been there to share the day with us. When we were heading home the children raced ahead as usual, but Sleek waited for me on the trail and fell into step beside me as I passed. I smiled and she returned the gesture.

In the dappled light under the trees, her face suddenly seemed to metamorphose into that of an ancient. Expressing wisdom far beyond her years, she said to me, “I had fun with you today, but I’m not Tukta, Qwalshina. Please try to remember that.” There was no anger in her voice for once; the smells of tree resin, spicy siba, and a lazy afternoon had drained her of hostility.

Startled, I paused on the trail and faced her. “I know. . . . I had fun today too, and I’m glad you are who you are. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Mmm. . . . Then stop calling me Tukta.”

“I don’t,” I protested.

She gave me a reproachful look, her eyes luminous and sad. “You’re not even aware that you’re doing it, are you?”

Was I? Oh Mother, was I confusing her with my daughter in the physical world as well as in my mind? “I’m sorry, Sleek, I
didn’t
realize I’d been doing that. Do I do it often?”

She made a noncommittal sound which I took to be acceptance of my apology. “Not often, but sometimes – like today – you forget.” She shrugged, looked away, and brushed her hand across a feathery tree branch. We’d chopped off the dyed blue parts of her hair some time back, and now soft brown waves hung down past her shoulders. Up ahead, one of the children called to her at that point, and she raced down the trail to catch up with the others.

I kept walking at a slower pace, thinking. I hadn’t realized I’d been doing that. Her gentle rebuke caused me to question my own insecurities. It wasn’t fair to Sleek if I was indeed trying to mold her into another’s image for my own comfort. Why did I continue to cling to the past? Why couldn’t I go on with my life – what was I afraid of? I will have to guard my tongue and my thoughts more carefully in future. I must go see Granny Night Wind; maybe she can guide me through this difficult time.

Frost Moon, sun-turning 15

It’s getting very cold at night now. We arrived back in the village by the lake yesterday afternoon, our pack beasts heavy-laden from the annual hunt. Soon we will hold the last harvest feast. Everyone is excited. After the festivities we will pack up everything important and leave this exposed, stormy beach. When the blue snows pile up outside, we will be safe in our warm underground lodges up the sheltered valley in the hills.