Chapter 20

The native escorted them in silence to the house she'd expected, the Edenites' original building that she knew sheltered the entrance to their primary subterranean nest. He was joined there by three of his fellows, all of whom clearly meant to accompany them belowground. Parity of numbers, always, she thought. It had been one of the hallmarks of their previous visits.

But there would not be parity on another level, she recognized wryly. While the humans were indeed unarmed, the metal detector built into her small backpack told her the same was not so of the Edenites. Each carried what was almost surely a knife in the folds of his clothing.

"You must leave these here," said the first native, pointing to her backpack. The Edenites had realized on their previous visit that these were what powered the potent electrical charge that their clothing could emit on command, a defense that had helped them ward off the two attacks they'd suffered while she was there.

"Will you also leave here the knives that I know you carry with you?" she parried. The point wasn't to disarm them; that would probably be irrelevant in the unlikely (she thought) event that hostilities were to break out, inasmuch as the Edenites outnumbered them so greatly. But she remembered her husband's admonition of long ago, that meetings between the two species should always be on an equal footing. So too, she thought, should this one be.

There was yet another pause. Then, without comment, each of the natives reached into his clothing and drew out a knife; they laid the weapons carefully on the floor in a pile. Her sensor told her they were carrying no other metal.

"Very well," she said. She nodded to her companions, who joined her in disconnecting and removing the packs. They'd have to give themselves over to the Edenites' mercy, as she'd warned the others beforehand; their clothes would still be impervious to puncture, but that would only prolong their ordeal if they were assaulted. Although each human, her aged self included, was substantially larger than any Edenite, there could be no withstanding a coordinated attack by all of them.

Once the natives had opened the trap two of them descended immediately. One of the remaining pair then motioned for the humans to proceed. As they'd planned, Heisinger went first and then it was Meiersdottir's turn.

"Help me, Carlie," she said. Taking her hands, he lowered her carefully into the narrow entry bottleneck, gradually dropping down until he was lying prone to maintain his grip as long as possible. When he finally released her she slid but a few centimeters before she felt Heisinger, below, catch her feet and then slowly crawl her hands upward along her legs and then her body until she could be lowered fully into the entry tunnel.

The traverse of that tunnel, she'd told them beforehand, was likely to prove a major physical trial in her condition. "I remember it was high enough for them to stand erect, but not for us," she'd said. "We had to do it stooped over, and I don't stoop well any more, not at my age. You won't be able to support me all the way, you'll be stooped over too. I may have to crawl a good part of the way. Not very dignified, I know, but it's something I'll have to do if they'll accept us in the nest, it's too important not to do it. I'll live."

To her considerable surprise, however, the tunnel now seemed appreciably higher than in her memory. It still couldn't accommodate her companions, all of whom were taller than she, but Meiersdottir found she could stand fully upright with her head still a few centimeters below the ceiling. They've enlarged it over the years for some reason, she thought. I maybe don't stand quite so tall as I did then, but I know it's bigger. The width, too, seemed greater than she remembered.

Soon Igwanda, then Amuri, and lastly the two remaining aliens joined them and the assemblage began the thirty-meter trek to the final entranceway. With only a little assistance now and then along the way Meiersdottir was able to reach the far end with dignity intact.

They negotiated the final bottleneck, a mirror image of the first, in the same fashion, and finally she stood once more—for the last time, she thought—in the heart of an Edenite nest. It was as glorious as she remembered, the floor, ceiling and sloping walls glowing with the beautiful phosphorescence that she knew was exuded by the Edenite females' hides and the likewise glowing mothers—now ten of them, she noted—in a row before her, with the clutch of eggs, glowing themselves and much more numerous than before, behind them. The cavern itself also seemed to her larger than it had been, which only added to its majesty.

"You certainly didn't exaggerate, Amanda, it's magnificent!" Heisinger whispered in her ear once she'd completed the traverse.

"Yes," Meiersdottir replied softly. "Imprint it in your memory, Alicia. You'll never see its like again."

"Until they make it another time, now on Earth."

"We hope. Oh, we so hope."

One by one the others followed, and soon the party was assembled once again. But there was one important difference from all of Meiersdottir's previous visits to the Edenite nests. In the past each time they'd come save the very first, when they'd been uninvited, the chief mother had stepped forward to greet them with outstretched hands (or what among the Edenites passed for hands). That had been so even on the occasion that she and her baby had been held hostage in another nest far away. Yet there was no greeting now, the mothers maintained their position unmoving without a sign of welcome.

As soon as the final Edenite had completed his entry one of the mothers—the one furthest to their right one again, she noted—spoke. As before the voice was harsh and unyielding; but this time. she thought, I think they probably mean it, it's not just an accident of their physiognomy.