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Terwel's ship for that. Djabo! To see all this and take nothing away& "
"Dissarahnet is a Skirrik scholar at the Lumat. A good friend. I talked to her
about finding Ykx. No, no, she won't chatter. Not outside the Lumat, and
what's so secret about a Scholar hunting Ykx? Her bodymother is one of the
High Mothers in the Nests here at Istryamozhe. If Ramanarrahnet chooses to
listen to her daughter, she can give us an introduction into Atsila Vana that
will make a large difference in how we are received."
SKIRRIK: Their nest domes are made of macerated wood treated with a hardener
to waterproof them; they are bunched together like clusters of soapbubbles,
each cluster a separate Nest. They are light and airy inside, with drafts that
move gently but constantly through the complex structure, carrying with them
the fresh green smells from the many small gardens and fountains scattered
about the knobby complex of openface rooms and the walkways that are made from
a lacy webbing that looks fragile but is capable of supporting the weight of
the oldest and heaviest females. Plants grow everywhere, some throwing out
blooms, some producing brilliantly colored galls, pods, nodules, or seeds.
Except around the fountains, these plants are gathered in clusters like highly
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colored abstract tapestries, living tapestries that change day by day as parts
grow, mature, die, are removed, and replaced. The changes are coaxed and
guided by individuals who live near the clusters. Skirrik see no need for
privacy, though each has territorial rights to specific corners of the Nest
and each spends time and effort making his or her corner both recognizably
separate from the nearby areas and recognizably his or hers. The neuters have
their own separate society and customs that rarely agree with or impinge on
those of the males, the breeding females, or the non-breeding females who act
as neuters but are not their state being a choice usually taken because they
are too busy and interested in what they occupy themselves with to take time
out for the debilitating process of producing eggs. Also they tend to lack
ambition; the road to power among the Skirrik is motherhood. Female minds shut
down when the body is gravid, female bodies go into a torpor that lasts until
the eggs are expelled. But the breeding female is a nexus of relationships
that give her constituencies that make the sacrifice worth while; the greater
the number of males mated with, the wider her net is thrown. An average laying
produces five fertile females, two fertile males, eight or ten neuters. A
special cadre of neuters, the elite among them, tend the brooding mothers,
wash and wipe them, feed them, give them drink, treat them like mindless
infants for the six months the brooding lasts.
Pegwai and Skeen followed the immature female through the complex interior of
the nest to an airy chamber near the apex of the largest dome. The room swam
with sunlight. A huge female sat in the sac-like open space, her carapace a
purple so dark it was nearly black, only the sliding highlights as she moved
testifying to the true color. The chitin on her upper body was elaborately
inlaid with amethyst and ivory until it seemed she wore jeweled armor. Like
all mated females, her antennas were a mane black, rising over her head in
graceful arcs, so fine at the tips they were more like stiff thread. They
swayed as she moved her great head, swayed when she was still, touched by the
circling air currents. The walls of the chamber were a mosaic of mosses,
greens and ochers, winding threads of vermilion and garnet. A subtle varying
of textures wove a secondary pattern across the pattern of the colors. The old
female (High Mother Ramanarrahnet) was working on more of the mosses, using
tools with points so fine she wore magnifying lenses over her triune eyes.
Ferns swayed about her head, providing a lacy sweet-smelling shade.
Their guide scurried over to the High Mother and skritched at her, more than
half of what she said inaudible to the visitors. Ramanarrahnet took off the
goggles and turned to gaze at Pegwai. When she spoke, her voice was full and
rich though she had a little trouble with her plosives, but her Trade-Min was
clear and easily understood. "Pegwai Dih, young Helsi tells me you bring news
of Daughter Scholar Dissarahnet."
Pegwai bowed low, held out with both hands the thick packet he'd brought from
the ship.
High Mother Ramanarrahnet took the packet and slit it open with the claw at
the end of one of her grippers and scanned the looping scrawl that made bold
patterns on the shiny surface of the pale gray sheet. When she was finished,
she eased herself about, settled her large stiff body more comfortably for
talking. A number of the small black neuters came rushing in, helped her shift
her legs, moved her worktable out of the way, brought cushions to tuck around
her until they were satisfied she was settled properly, then they vanished as
quickly as they'd arrived.
"Daughter Scholar Dissarahnet tells me you go on a long and difficult journey
and solicits my easing your way by whatever means I can. We will speak of this
in a nush or so. Tell me Scholar Dih, my daughter writes that she is well, but
she'd never worry an aged parent. Is she content and healthy?"
"High Mother, the Scholar Dissarahnet sings when she rises and pursues her
studies with the enthusiasm I am sure you remember. She has an ache or two in
the joints on cold damp days, but so do I. It's merely a question of advancing
age and bodies starting to wear out, nothing more. The Nest at the Tanul Lumat
is well cared for, the nidlings you send to serve the Nest and the Scholars do
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their work well and without fuss. You may rest easy, High Mother, the Daughter
Scholar Dissarahnet is healthy for her age and content with her life."
"You reassure me, Scholar Dih, for which I give you many thanks. Lifefire send
you success in all you do. What can the Skirrik of Istryamozhe do to forward
your journey?"
"Your kind wishes, High Mother, and perhaps a letter of introduction to a High
Mother in Atsila Vana, asking for her favor and reassuring her that my
companion and I will do our best not to disturb or bring harm to them."
"Yes. What this one can do, Scholar Dih, this one is happy to do." She turned
her head with a spate of Skirrik speech sent young Helsi scurrying out. She [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]