Read Online Adulthood Rites by Octavia E. Butler - Free Book Online

terrible laughter. “Oh, god. Which of my first group is in Phoenix?”
    “A guy named Rinaldi.”
    “Gabe? Gabe and Tate. Are they still together?”
    “Yes. I didn’t realize … Tate never said anything about being with him then. I thought they had gotten together here on Earth.”
    “I awoke them both. They were my best friends for a while. Their ooloi was Kahguyaht—ooan Nikanj.”
    “What Nikanj?”
    “Nikanj’s ooloi parent. It stayed aboard the ship with its mates and raised another trio of children. Nikanj told it Gabe and Tate wouldn’t be leaving the resisters any time soon. It was finally willing to acknowledge Nikanj’s talent, and it couldn’t bring itself to accept other Humans.”
    Tino looked at Nikanj. After a while, he got up and went over to it, sat down opposite it. “What is your talent?” he asked.
    Nikanj did not speak or acknowledge his presence.
    “Talk to me!” he demanded. “I know you hear.”
    The ooloi seemed to come to life slowly. “I hear.”
    “What is your talent!”
    It leaned toward him and took his hands in its strength hands, keeping its sensory arms coiled. Oddly, the gesture reminded him of Lilith, was much like what Lilith tended to do. He did not mind, somehow, that now hard, cool gray hands held his.
    “I have a talent for Humans,” it said in its soft voice. “I was bred to work with you, taught to work with you, and given one of you as a companion during one of my most formative periods.” It focused for a moment on Lilith. “I know your bodies, and sometimes I can anticipate your thinking. I knew that Gabe Rinaldi couldn’t accept a union with us when Kahguyaht wanted him. Tate could have, but she would not leave Gabe for an ooloi—no matter how badly she wanted to. And Kahguyaht would not simply keep her with it when the others were sent to Earth. That surprised me. It always said there was no point in paying attention to what Humans said. It knew Tate would eventually have accepted it, but it listened to her and let her go. And it wasn’t raised as I was in contact with Humans. I think your people affect us more than we realize.”
    “I think,” Lilith said quietly, “that you may be better at understanding us than you are at understanding your own people.”
    It focused on her, its body tentacles smoothed to invisibility against its flesh. That meant it was pleased, Tino remembered. Pleased or even happy. “Ahajas says that,” it told her. “I don’t think it’s true, but it may be.”
    Tino turned toward Lilith but spoke to Nikanj. “Did you make her pregnant against her will?”
    “Against one part of her will, yes,” Nikanj admitted. “She had wanted a child with Joseph, but he was dead. She was … more alone than you could imagine. She thought I didn’t understand.”
    “It’s your fault she was alone!”
    “It was a shared fault.” Nikanj’s head and body tentacles hung limp. “We believed we had to use her as we did. Otherwise we would have had to drug newly awakened Humans much more than was good for them because we would have had to teach them everything ourselves. We did that later because we saw … that we were damaging Lilith and the others we tried to use.
    “In the first children, I gave Lilith what she wanted but could not ask for. I let her blame me instead of herself. For a while, I became for her a little of what she was for the Humans she had taught and guided. Betrayer. Destroyer of treasured things. Tyrant. She needed to hate me for a while so that she could stop hating herself. And she needed the children I mixed for her.”
    Tino stared at the ooloi, needing to look at it to remind himself that he was hearing an utterly un-Human creature. Finally, he looked at Lilith.
    She looked back, smiling a bitter, humorless smile. “I told you it was talented,” she said.
    “How much of that is true?” he asked.
    “How should I know!” She swallowed. “All of it might be. Nikanj usually tells the truth. On the