Read Online Return to Eden by Harry Harrison - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Harry Harrison
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Explanation/definition of a society. This is a technical term of which you will be ignorant, as you are ignorant of most things. A society is a closely integrated grouping of organisms of the same species, held together by mutual dependence and showing division of labor. Examples follow.
"Insects. The anthill is a society with workers, soldiers, larval attendants, an eistaa to produce eggs, a group working in harmony. Observe as well the ustuzou deer where a large horned male keeps predators at bay so the females can bear young. Think of an efenburu in the ocean where all the elininyil work together in the pursuit of food. That is a sufficiency of examples. Now think of the city where you went as fargi, grew and became Yilanè. It was shaped as all cities, like this city, with an ambesed where the eistaa ruled and ordered. A hanalè to contain the males that would guarantee the continuation of the city when the time came for them to go to the beaches. That is what a living city is—a viable society. I still see blankness of knowledge. A viable society is one that lives and grows and never dies."
Ambalasei looked around and registered disgust at her silent audience. "And what do you have here? You have a dead society. A city that lives only when I order it, that will die when I leave it. And a system of dying beliefs because Ugunenapsa's words will die when you die. Perhaps it is correct to call you Daughters of Death. Because you will die and the words of Ugunenapsa will die with you. Which I, for one, am beginning to think is not a bad idea at all."
She nodded approval at her gasping audience, the inadvertent body movements of disapproval and disagreement. "Now," she said with certain overtones of appreciation of entertainment to come, "now that I have drawn your attention to matters imperative, it is your turn to talk."
There were churning limbs then, and cries of attention to speaking. Only when Enge signed urgency of speech did the others cease their protests. She indicated Ambalasei with movements of appreciation as she spoke.
"You must replace anger with gratitude to wise Ambalasei who sees all, knows all. Do you kill the messenger who brings the bad news? Is this what Ugunenapsa has taught you? We thank Ambalasei for pointing out the truth of our existence, the realities of our lives. A problem can be solved only when one is aware of the problem. Now we can turn all of our intelligence to its solution. We must search for the meaning in Ugunenapsa's words for I know the answer must be there. For if it does not lie there we die—just as Ambalasei has said." She raised a thumb, held it high.
"One problem with two sides. Both sides are blank, empty, and we must fill them. We stand in one emptiness, the ambesed. We will not have an eistaa—but we must have a system of order to this city, order as represented by the ambesed. This problem we must solve first. Only when this has been done can we address ourselves to the empty hanalè. When we order our thoughts we will order our lives. When we order our lives we will order the city. Then, and only then, can we consider the continuity of this city.
Again Ambalasei is terribly right. What do we have here? A city of perfect harmony—and perfect death.
We will grow old and die, one by one, and only emptiness will remain. Think on it."
A shiver of pain moved through the listening Yilanè, sparing only Ambalasei who nodded with grim approval. The Daughters of Life were now as silent as death. Except for Far< of course. Her voice was shrill with emotion, the movements of her limbs erratic with stress. This did not stop her from speaking.
"I hear what you say, Enge, but you are misled. Ambalasei may be a scientist of knowledge, but she is not a follower of Ugunenapsa. That is her fault and her failing. Now she misleads us with talks of an eistaa and of the eistaa's rule. This we have rejected, and our rejection has led us to this place. We listen to Ambalasei corrupting
"Insects. The anthill is a society with workers, soldiers, larval attendants, an eistaa to produce eggs, a group working in harmony. Observe as well the ustuzou deer where a large horned male keeps predators at bay so the females can bear young. Think of an efenburu in the ocean where all the elininyil work together in the pursuit of food. That is a sufficiency of examples. Now think of the city where you went as fargi, grew and became Yilanè. It was shaped as all cities, like this city, with an ambesed where the eistaa ruled and ordered. A hanalè to contain the males that would guarantee the continuation of the city when the time came for them to go to the beaches. That is what a living city is—a viable society. I still see blankness of knowledge. A viable society is one that lives and grows and never dies."
Ambalasei looked around and registered disgust at her silent audience. "And what do you have here? You have a dead society. A city that lives only when I order it, that will die when I leave it. And a system of dying beliefs because Ugunenapsa's words will die when you die. Perhaps it is correct to call you Daughters of Death. Because you will die and the words of Ugunenapsa will die with you. Which I, for one, am beginning to think is not a bad idea at all."
She nodded approval at her gasping audience, the inadvertent body movements of disapproval and disagreement. "Now," she said with certain overtones of appreciation of entertainment to come, "now that I have drawn your attention to matters imperative, it is your turn to talk."
There were churning limbs then, and cries of attention to speaking. Only when Enge signed urgency of speech did the others cease their protests. She indicated Ambalasei with movements of appreciation as she spoke.
"You must replace anger with gratitude to wise Ambalasei who sees all, knows all. Do you kill the messenger who brings the bad news? Is this what Ugunenapsa has taught you? We thank Ambalasei for pointing out the truth of our existence, the realities of our lives. A problem can be solved only when one is aware of the problem. Now we can turn all of our intelligence to its solution. We must search for the meaning in Ugunenapsa's words for I know the answer must be there. For if it does not lie there we die—just as Ambalasei has said." She raised a thumb, held it high.
"One problem with two sides. Both sides are blank, empty, and we must fill them. We stand in one emptiness, the ambesed. We will not have an eistaa—but we must have a system of order to this city, order as represented by the ambesed. This problem we must solve first. Only when this has been done can we address ourselves to the empty hanalè. When we order our thoughts we will order our lives. When we order our lives we will order the city. Then, and only then, can we consider the continuity of this city.
Again Ambalasei is terribly right. What do we have here? A city of perfect harmony—and perfect death.
We will grow old and die, one by one, and only emptiness will remain. Think on it."
A shiver of pain moved through the listening Yilanè, sparing only Ambalasei who nodded with grim approval. The Daughters of Life were now as silent as death. Except for Far< of course. Her voice was shrill with emotion, the movements of her limbs erratic with stress. This did not stop her from speaking.
"I hear what you say, Enge, but you are misled. Ambalasei may be a scientist of knowledge, but she is not a follower of Ugunenapsa. That is her fault and her failing. Now she misleads us with talks of an eistaa and of the eistaa's rule. This we have rejected, and our rejection has led us to this place. We listen to Ambalasei corrupting
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