Chapter 25

The meadow was no longer a meadow, she saw as they came in; it looked more like a war zone. Gaping holes tens of meters deep dotted it where great swaths of soil had been dug out to be transported wholesale to the Ark. Alongside them were narrow pathways of the original sod, but with the vegetation flattened and dead from the heavy earthmoving equipment that had traveled along them again and again.

Even the landing site, lately vacated by the second lander on its way back to the ship, seemed desiccated. The pavilion alone stood as it had been, but now on a virtual island amid the excavation with only a single elevated lane connecting it to the remaining raised ground.

"Oh, God," Meiersdottir murmured as the desolated landscape came into view. "I never wanted to see it like this."

"Calm yersel', Missus," said MacPherson soothingly. "Dinna forrge' why ye'rre herre."

"You're right again, Angus," she replied, as Yuan spared a glance to look at them in astonishment. "There they are." She pointed out the porthole at a group of Edenites driving a herd of the ubiquitous hexapods. "You've seen them with your own eyes now."

"No' close enough," he said firmly. "If I may I'll gae wi' ye t'talk t' 'em."

"Sure, why not?" Meiersdottir said, surprising Yuan yet again. "Just don't say anything, anyhow they probably wouldn't understand you very well with that accent of yours."

"Me Sco's burr?" he asked, amused. "Aye, I nivverr learrn' t'talk properr. Orr ac'ually I di' learrn, an' then forrgo' i' again. I fin' I like talkin' as I do, I can say wha' I wan' an' when I do nae-un ta'es offense, they say 'tis jus' th' Sco'. An' itherrs un'errstan' me fine."

"They won't," she told him. "But never mind, it doesn't matter."

And then the lander touched down, and the gravitronic engines stilled.

As Meiersdottir led MacPherson down the ramp Igwanda, who happened to be standing there, reacted in considerable surprise. It was clear that no-one was forcing his grandmother to do anything, and he was aware from his time on the ship that she'd befriended the disgraced officer, but even so...

"It's quite all right, Carlie," said Meiersdottir. "Angus wanted to come down, so I've brought him. It seems a fitting conclusion."

"But why are you here, Grandmother?" he asked. "We're nearly finished."

"Yes, I know," she said. "I've come to give it one last try. Can you call one of them over?"

He hesitated a moment, and then called loudly, "Aikun!" One of the natives driving the herd immediately disengaged and moved toward them. "It's their word for one, the number," Igwanda explained. "I've been calling him that since we started, he said pick a name and I asked him and that's what he said."

"And kukakh, and akakha," she said reminiscently, reminded of the names Joe, her original Edenite contact, had assigned to the second and third natives to join their conclave. "I only knew two and three, Joe was the original aikun but he was Joe."

"I guess," muttered Igwanda. "Anyhow," he addressed the native, "Aikun, Amanda has returned, she has something to say."

"May I go again to your nest?" Meiersdottir asked him. "I've come to say farewell."

"'Farewell?'" the Edenite inquired.

"Goodbye," she clarified.

"You may come," he said after the tiniest of pauses. "One waits for you at the way."

"Grandmother, I can't go with you," Igwanda said regretfully. "Al's wrung out, she's sleeping now and I have to—"

"It's all right," she cut him off. "Angus can take me. Aikun, make it two, there will be two of us. Come on, Angus, this way." And without more she started toward the overgrowth, grasping MacPherson's hand to make sure he followed.

Igwanda reflexively started to protest, but stopped himself with a shrug. MacPherson could do no harm now, so there was no reason not to indulge his grandmother. He watched them walk away, then turned back to his work supervising the loading.

It occurred to Meiersdottir that the former captain had no clue what he was in for. "You're getting more than you bargained for, Angus," she told him as they walked. "We're going straight to their nest. You all right with that?"

He nodded. "Aye. In forr a penny, in forr a poond."

"All right. We haven't much time, but here's what you're going to see." She took him through a brief description of the nest entrance tunnel and the nest itself. "You'll have to let me down carefully at the bottlenecks," she said. "And as far as you can; there'll be no-one to catch me at the far end."

"Nae," he said. "I'll go beforre ye. Le' yersel' doon as carrefully as ye may an' then jus' slide. I'll catch ye, I prromise. 'Twill be saferr tha' way, yer bones arre frragile, ye migh' brreak yer leg if 'tis as ye descrribe i'."

"All right," she said. "That's probably better."

Since neither had worn a backpack on their spur-of-the-moment trip they had nothing to divest, and soon they were at the opened trap. One of the two natives who'd awaited them descended first and then MacPherson; the other Edenite, recognizing her disability, helped lower her into the bottleneck where she slid into MacPherson's strong arms. He had to stoop considerably to negotiate the tunnel while she remained upright, only occasionally ducking her head, but he stoically persevered. At the far end the process was repeated.

Only after he'd caught her and lowered her carefully to the nest floor did he look around him. "Wow," he said to her finally in almost a whisper. "Ye didna tell me aboo' this, no' sae I coul' un'errstan' i' comple'ely, bu' then I ken nae worrds coul' descrribe i'. 'Tis awesome."

"Yes, and it'll all be lost forever," she said.

"Mayhap no'," he reassured her. "Ye've ye' t'speak."

This time the mother, Gagugakhing she presumed, oldest mother, was there to greet her. She extended her arms, and Meiersdottir as before responded by clasping what passed for her hands briefly. "This is Angus, my friend," she told the mother. "Touch hands, Angus," she muttered to him. "It's expected. Guts up," she added as he hesitated.