The Color of Distance (62 page)

“Why are they doing it?”

“If you had a chance to fly a new kind of plane, would you do it?” Juna asked the pilot.

He nodded.

“Well,” Juna explained, “that’s why they do it. No Tendu has ever seen birds like these. They’re new and strange to them.”

The bird Ukatonen had released woke up and waddled back to its nest, braying in alarm.

Juna found
a.
rock outcropping that sheltered them from the cold wind. She opened the front of her warmsuit, letting in an icy blast of wind, and began explaining the guano mining operation, pointing out where the Survey was going to dig, and how deep they were going to go. The Tendu watched her words intently, then huddled together, conferring among themselves. When they were through, Anitonen turned to her.

“The damage to the rookery will be small. The birds should recover within a year, and the Tendu will profit greatly. This is not perfectly harmonious, but I accept on behalf of the enkar. We ask that you seek approval from the lyali-Tendu, as well, since this negotiation will affect their trade. We also ask for some of the fertilizer as part of our fee for helping to negotiate this trade. We also thank you for taking us here. We have learned much today.”

Juna sighed with mingled regret and relief. The treaty was almost concluded, bringing her closer to going home. She glanced at Moki, longing for a solution to his need for her.

The next day the lyali-Tendu came to the landing dock to negotiate their portion of the agreement, floating on their backs so that Juna could see their words. Juna sat with her legs in the water, listening and translating for the suited human negotiators. The sea people were tough traders, and they drove a hard bargain. At last they agreed to accept an amount of fertilizer equal to half the amount the people of Lyanan received, to be delivered to their trading islands up and down the coast. It meant more work for the Survey, but it was certainly possible. Besides, Juna thought with a smile, it was time the Survey did a little work.

The treaty was finalized two days later, at a meeting on the beach attended by representatives from all the concerned parties. The Survey signed a document agreeing to the provisions of the compact, and Anitonen rendered a formal judgment that the Tendu would accept it, signaling this by drawing her name sign on the treaty.

Juna returned from celebrating with the Tendu several hours after sunset. Bruce picked her up in the boat. They rode back in silence. The tropical night air felt like warm milk against her skin. It was a rare, clear night, and the stars shone so brightly that it seemed as though she could reach up and pluck them out of the sky. Night birds flickered like shadows across the stars.

Juna glanced up at Bruce. He was watching her. She closed her eyes, aware of a growing warmth between her thighs, feeling a flush of golden arousal stealing up her back. She stroked her arm; her skin was wet and warm and slimy. She remembered Bruce touching her skin, and flinching away, and her arousal vanished. She had done her best to avoid him since then. The worst part was that she still wanted him.

The boat pulled up j:o the dock. Juna got out, and started up the steps.

“Juna, wait a minute,” Bruce said.

“What is it?”

“I— It’s just that you’ve been so busy with the talks lately. We haven’t had much chance to talk. I’ve missed you.”

Juna ducked her head, feeling her skin turn brown with awkward embarrassment. “Thank you, Bruce. I’ve missed your company too. I like you very much.”

“I thought, maybe, there was more to it than just liking me,” Bruce said, putting his arms around her. In the darkness, his face was a pale shadow inside his face plate.

“Oh, Bruce,” Juna said, fighting the urge to rest her head against his shoulder. “Not while I’m like this.”

His embrace tightened. “Why?”

“Because I’m ugly, slimy, alien.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Yes,” Juna said. “You tried to hold my hand, just after I got out of quarantine. I saw the look on your face when you flinched.”

“I’m sorry, Juna,” he said. “It just surprised me. Give me a chance. I’ll get over it.”

Juna shrugged and looked away. “I don’t want to be something you have to get over.” She slipped out of the warmth of his arms and fled up the stairs. She dogged the lock behind her, stripped off her clothing, and stepped into the soothing warmth of the shower. Finished with the decontamination process, she dressed and headed for the lonely refuge of her cabin. She lay awake for a long time, listening, irrationally hoping that Bruce would come, would apologize, and would hold her.

With the reparations to Lyanan resolved, it was time to turn to negotiating a Contact treaty between the humans and the Survey. The enkar had learned a great deal from the reparation negotiations. They understood what the humans would accept, and they had enough information to begin to define their own needs. What they chiefly needed was time in which to learn more about humans. The Tendu wanted a short-term, highly restricted Contact treaty, allowing very limited and supervised research on the planet, with an emphasis on linguistic and cultural research. All contact with the Tendu would be supervised by the enkar. Trade would be strictly prohibited for the first five years. A second research base could be set up off the coast of one of the enkar reserves. Exploration of the area outside Tendu control required the consent of an enkar in charge of human contact, a position currently shared by Ukatonen and Anitonen.

The treaty was more restrictive than the research people wanted, but it was the Tendu’s planet, and the humans had to abide by their wishes.

The treaty took less than a month to draw up. Most of that time was spent oh details of grammar and translation. Once the agreement was signed, Juna took a week of leave and went on a fishing trip with Ukatonen, Anitonen, and Moki. They floated down the river, reminiscing. Juna and Moki played and splashed and linked. There was an overlay of sadness to it all, a sense of endings, of last times. Moki clung to her tightly one minute and was withdrawn and sullen the next. Still, Juna enjoyed this quiet time with her Tendu companions.

The last night of the trip, Juna sat up late with Anitonen and Ukatonen.

“I’ve learned so much, living among the Tendu. There are times when I’ve wanted to stay here with you forever, but—” Juna stared off into the thick, humid darkness of the jungle. “I miss being human,” she said. “I’m tired of being different, tired of feeling like an alien among my own people. I want to touch and be touched, without the other person flinching away.”

“Do you want me to change you back?” Anitonen asked. “It wouldn’t be hard.”

Juna’s heart leapt within her at the thought of looking human again. “Oh, Anitonen, that would be wonderful! But I can’t change back—the Tendu need me, Moki needs me.”

“And you are out of harmony with yourself,” Anitonen told her. “You have given us five years of your life. It is enough. Patricia knows enough to serve as a translator now, especially if you help her. It is time to return fully to your people.”

“But Moki—” Juna began.

Ukatonen laid her arm on Juna’s. “Moki has known that this time would come since you chose him as your bami.”

“But what about you?” Juna asked. “If Moki doesn’t accept you as his sitik…” She trailed off, unable to finish.

“I am responsible for my own judgments,” Ukatonen told her. “I will live with the consequences. Even Moki knows that you need your people. Waiting only delays change; it doesn’t stop it.”

They were right, Juna knew. It was time. Delaying this transformation any further would only prolong her own misery without really making things better for anyone else.

“Will it take long?”

Anitonen shook her head. “I could start the change now. By the time you return to the ship, it will be almost complete. Your hands and feet will take several weeks to return to normal. They will ache while the transition is going on. I Gan also make it possible for you to go outside without an e-suit. You will be a little out of harmony, your eyes will burn, your nose will run. Once you go back inside, you will feel better. If you like, you can retain your improved eyesight, hearing, and balance.”

“That would be good.” Juna looked down at Moki, sleeping curled beneath a blanket of leaves. “Should I wake him?”

“It will only hurt him to watch, and he might try to disrupt the link,” Anitonen said.

Juna touched Moki lightly; he stirred and rolled over in his sleep. At least this painful waiting would be over for them both. Perhaps Moki would finally bond with Ukatonen. She held her arms out to Anitonen. “Please, en, make me human again.”

Moki lay snug in his nest of leaves, listening to the sounds of the forest, not wanting to face the morning. They were going back to the coast today. His sitik would be returning to her people. A cloud of regret passed over his skin. He wanted to stay here and pretend that Eerin’s people had not returned and taken her away from him.

He sat up. Eerin’s nest was empty. He found her swimming in the cool, clear river. The sun slanted down through the early morning mist in thick golden bars. Moki wanted to memorize this moment, to take it with him when he followed Eerin off-planet. He would miss the jungle. Eerin stood and walked through the shallows toward the beach, shedding brilliant drops of water. Moki clambered down a curtain of vines to greet her.

He ran to embrace his sitik, but stopped a few paces away. Something was wrong. Her skin was cloudy and off color.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look sick.”

Eerin shook her head. “I’m changing back, Moki. I asked Anitonen to make me human again.” Her words were fuzzy around the edges, and it took her longer to say them.

Moki backed away. “No!” he said. “No, no, no, no!”

He turned to flee, but Eerin caught him by the shoulder and turned him back around.

“Moki, please stay,” she said. He relaxed, and she released him. “I’m still the same person I was before. Only the outside is changing.”

Moki held out his arms, asking for a link. Eerin shook her head. “I can’t, Moki. Not by myself. We need someone to monitor me. Let’s go ask Ukatonen if he will help.”

Ukatonen was sitting on a rock upstream, gutting two big lorra fish for breakfast. Eerin asked for him to help them link.

“Let’s eat first. Your sitik is probably very hungry.”

Eerin nodded. Moki turned brown in shame. He had been selfish, forgetting his sitik’s needs.

“Let me help,” he said. “What else do we need?”

Ukatonen flickered approval. “You can skin and slice this fish while I go gather some greens.”

“What should I do?” Eerin asked.

“Rest and wait for breakfast. Changing is enough work for you today.”

“I’ll sit with Moki, then.”

They sat in wordless companionship while Moki sliced the fish and laid it neatly out on a fresh leaf. Eerin touched his shoulder as he finished. He looked up, ears spread wide.

“Are you angry with me for changing?” Eerin asked.

Moki shook his head as he pitched the fish guts into the undergrowth. He wasn’t angry. He just felt empty and hollow inside, like the husk of a deserted na tree. He had dreaded this moment for a long time. Now it was here and he felt only an aching emptiness.

“You need your people,” he told her with a shrug. There was nothing else left to say.

“I’m sorry, Moki,” she said.

“I know,” he replied. “It has to be this way. It’s all right.”

At least they would be together. He had managed to steal the suit that kept him warm when they went to the island. All he had to do was get on the shuttle, and it would take him to her people’s ship. He could hide there until it was too late for them to take him back to the planet. Then they would be together and everything would be all right.

At last breakfast was over, and Ukatonen held his arms out, ready to link.

“It will be a very short link, Moki. Eerin needs to save her energy for her change.”

Moki rippled acknowledgment. He held out his arms, a cloud of sadness passing over his skin. Eerin clasped his arm and Ukatonen’s. Eerin’s spur was soft and mushy-feeling. He tried to link through her spurs, but all he contacted was a mass of dying cells.

“Link through her skin, Moki. Her spurs don’t work anymore,” Uka-tonen said.

Moki shifted his grip. He sank his spurs into her skin, and succeeded in linking. Ukatonen was there, monitoring them both. He felt Eerin’s mix of grief and relief at her transformation. Moki let his love for his sitik rise above his grief. If this was to be their last link, he wanted to leave her with good feelings. They reached an equilibrium full of bittersweet longing and love.

The trip downstream passed quietly. Eerin lost the ability to speak around mid-morning. No ene said much after that. She spent most of the day in the water, clinging to the side of the raft, soothing and softening her dying skin. By the time they reached the beach where the humans would pick her up, Eerin’s skin was coming off in great patches. She radioed to the humans’ ship, letting them know that she had arrived, then waded into the ocean, where Anitonen helped her strip away her remaining Tendu skin. She emerged from the ocean as someone else, clean and brown and human. Her hands had flat nails on them instead of claws, and her palms were smooth and unridged.

Unable to face his sitik’s alien appearance, Moki looked away, out over the slate-colored ocean at the grey clouds, heavy with rain that blocked the setting sun. He felt like one of those clouds, grey with grief. Off in the distance, he saw a black speck rounding the point. It was a boat, coming to take Eerin away. Even though he knew he would see his sitik again, there was a finality to the boat’s approach. Nothing would be the same after she left.

Someone touched him on the shoulder. It was Eerin. She held a stick in one hand.