Chapter 29

Joe had indeed been unhappy when Meiersdottir told him on the communicator of Igwanda's decision that they would no longer go to the alien nests unarmed. His first reaction was that it would be preferable that they didn't go to the nests at all under those circumstances.

"I'm sorry, Joe, but Carlos— Igwanda says that isn't acceptable either. And I agree with him. We trusted you before in the nests, to go without protection. That trust was betrayed, you know that now. What happened to me could not have happened if we had protection with us."

"We do not do this," Joe replied.

"You didn't do it, you in the place where you are, in Gagugakhing's place, but Ghotagatogulagunga did. We know Ghotagatogulagunga are one, even if in that time you did not think together. We now know what you can do, what you will do. So we must have protection from that. You now must give your trust to us, as we did to you."

There was an uncharacteristic hesitation on the other end. "This is not easy for us," Joe finally said.

"I know that, Joe," she said. "But when you break trust, you must know there will be consequences. We mean you no harm, you have seen that from us. But for now we must go to your nests to talk to your mothers, and we must go protected."

"You say you go first tomorrow to other place, you say 'outpost, '" Joe responded. "We will tell in think-talk."

They left it there.

As the lander set down the next day there was very little welcome. The males who met them had at least greeted them on the previous visit; this time scarcely a word was spoken as they led them to the nest entrance. This didn't bode well, both Igwanda and Meiersdottir thought; it certainly wasn't the kind of cordiality they'd hoped for. Still, they decided to proceed.

Clearly Joe's message had been heard, there was no effort to disarm them, the males pulled aside the trap and simply motioned.

"Jesus, Carlos, I'm not sure I can," said Meiersdottir as she looked down at the entrance. "God, hold my hand, stay right with me, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but it's a really bad memory, I'm s-scared." Despite her trepidations she took the first step and half crawled, half slid into the entry tunnel, but as soon as Igwanda followed she clung to him tightly.

"We will be all right, Amanda," he reassured her. "Whatever awaits us below, even if our reception be as inhospitable as that we have already received, we both remain armed. There can be no repetition of what happened the last time."

"I know, but it's not just that, it's that my whole gut tells me I don't want to go back where it happened before. Hold me, hold me hard," she commanded. In a moment, though, her breathing eased. "I'm OK now," she said, "let's go. But stay right with me, will you? I've got to get through this, but I didn't think it would be so hard."

"I understand, my love," he said. "My own queen." He felt her back stiffen as he said the last. "I am with you."

"Keep calling me queen once in a while, OK, darling? It gives me some strength."

Together they made their way through the tunnel. There was less pause when they reached the final bottleneck, and she went through more comfortably as he quickly followed.

Surprisingly, the mother stood this time at the entrance on her disproportionately short legs to greet them. Automatically Meiersdottir extended her hands to accept the greeting, but there was no reciprocation.

"You come for me," said the mother abruptly. "I understand, we understand. I am ready. We ask only that you leave this one." She gestured behind her at the other female, who remained silent as she had been before. "For us it is dreadful if more than one mother die at same time. This one did nothing, it was I. If you kill too, we have only young mother with us, and none to care for nest."

For a moment they both simply stared at her, open-mouthed. Meiersdottir realized first what they were expecting. "Oh. My. God," she said softly. Almost reflexively she started to reach forward to embrace the female, then stopped.

"Akeelakhing, dear Akeelakhing," she began. "I know it's not a name for you any more, but to me you'll always be my Akeelakhing. Humans have a thing they do to show love and caring, they put their arms around each other and hold each other close. May I do this to you?"

The alien simply looked at her without response, but putting action to words Meiersdottir reached out anyway and took the native in her arms. In a moment the female responded in kind, wrapping her own sinuous arms around the human. They stood that way for a while as tears coursed down Meiersdottir's cheeks, and then slowly separated.

By now Igwanda, too, had understood. "We do not come to kill you," he said in as gentle a tone as he could muster. To himself he could only consider the appalling lack of communication between the two groups that had led her to this conclusion. If they speak to each other so poorly in their "far-think," went his thought, it is little wonder that they fell into factionalism so quickly.

Seemingly bemused, with her eyes only on Meiersdottir, the native at last spoke. "When children are very small, before think-together well, they wish do this," she said. "Now understand. When minds do not meet, it can be good that bodies do so." As if arousing herself from a reverie, she turned to the colonel. "You do not come to kill?" she asked. "Why?"

"There would be no gain," he answered, still speaking gently. "You did no harm, we will do no harm."

"But we make threat to do harm, to kill," she said. "And when you talk last time you say you will bring weapons in nest, you say there must be consequences because we break trust with you. And you come here before you ever go to home where others are, where once we were."

"We bring weapons into your nest because of what happened before," Igwanda said. "So that it cannot happen again. But those are the only consequences, that we will no longer come unarmed. There is no more, and I regret that you thought otherwise. Those in the other nest who told you this misunderstood."

"And we came here first to do you honor," added Meiersdottir. "You and she"—she gestured toward the other female—"and those above and all of you made that long journey here, and before you said that we should recognize what you've done. I heard your words and I thought you were right, and so this time we came to you first."

"We do not understand," said the mother slowly. "In the time when we say this to you, mind does not work right. It is difficult to know how this can be, when so many think together, but in that time it was so. We think only for us, for we who called ourselves Strong, we ... forget is not right word, we do not forget, but we..."

"You don't forget, but you can lose track of things," Meiersdottir said. "That's how we humans say it, the same thing happens sometimes to us. We remember, but somehow the memory doesn't seem important at the moment. You lost track of the reality that you were still Ghotagatogulagunga along with the others you'd left behind."

"Yes. We think the journey here made us somehow different, made us better, that we were not part of others more. And in think-together that is after you make it happen— This is correct, is it not? You make this happen?"

"I left your parties only one small way to think together, so both would have to think in the same way," Igwanda said. "Yes, we made it happen."

"That is what we reasoned," the native concurred. "When that happen we understand that it is not only we, we here, who ... lose track. Those behind also no longer believe us to be part of them. They do not think of us as Strong, but they also do not think of us as Ghotagatogulagunga with them. Both were wrong, you show us this."