remember even now what name I had chosen before. And since my confusion by now was obvious, there was no way I could simply make another one up without arousing his suspicion. So again I resorted to a pretended custom to cover my momentary need. I sincerely hoped the government of Bird did not choose anytime soon to send a real emissary, for I doubted such a woman would wish to follow the script that I had improvised. And if Nkumai was as efficient as Mueller, and sent spies to learn more about a nation that had sent an embassy, my little fabric of lies would soon unweave itself.
“Name, sir?” I said, now covering confusion with haughtiness. “Either you are no gentleman, or you do not think me a lady.”
He looked momentarily abashed. Then he laughed. “You must forgive me, lady. Customs vary. In my land only ladies have names. Men are called only for their duties. I am, as I told you, Teacher. But I meant you no disrespect.”
“Fine,” I said, forgiving him curtly. The game was becoming amusing, trying to assert some superiority over him in a situation in which I couldn’t help but be inferior, just as I imagined a genuine female diplomat might find herself forced to do. It almost let me forget the fact that though the path we followed was no more difficult than climbing a steep hill, this hill happened to be a thick tree branch that sloped away quickly on both sides, and if I were to stray from the path I would soon find myself hurtling downward. I dared not look and couldn’t guess how far, but, perversely, couldn’t resist trying to find out, either. “How many meters to the ground?”
“At this place I would say about a hundred and thirty, lady. But I’m really not sure. We don’t measure it, much. Once you’re high enough to kill yourself falling, it really doesn’t matter how far the ground is, does it? But I can tell you how much higher we have to go.”
“How much?”
“About three hundred meters.”
I gasped. I knew trees could grow to phenomenal heights on Treason—hadn’t I walked through Ku Kuei?—but surely that high up the branches would be too weak and slender to support us. “Where are we going? Why so high?”
He laughed again, and this time he made no effort to conceal his enjoyment at my dislike of heights. Perhaps his way of getting back at me for the little trouble over names, and all the other slights that I had offered him and his country during our trip. “We’re going,” he said, “to the place where you’re going to live. We thought you’d appreciate visiting the very top. Few outsiders ever have.”
“I’m going to live at the top?”
“Well, we couldn’t very well keep you with the other embassies, could we? They’re men. We are somewhat civilized. So Mwabao Mawa has consented to take you in.”
Our conversation was interrupted as he lightly trotted across a rope bridge, only occasionally using his hands. It looked easy, particularly since the tread of the bridge was wooden. But as I stepped on it, it swayed, and the farther out I got, the worse the swaying was. At the apex of each swing, I could see the trunks of the trees dropping down to a ground so distant that I couldn’t be sure exactly where it was, in the heavy shade. At last I lost control and vomited, perhaps at the midpoint of the bridge. But then I felt better and made it across the bridge without further incident. And from then on, since I was already utterly disgraced, I made no further attempt to pretend not to feel fear—and found that it therefore became easier to bear. My guide, Teacher, was more helpful, too, and led me at a slower pace. I was more than willing at times to lean on him.
And as we finally got to the level where the leaves grew, giant fans as much as two meters broad, the realization sank in that even if I found out what Nkumai was selling to the Ambassador for iron, it would do us little good. How could the landbound, plains-dwelling men of Mueller ever invade, let
“Name, sir?” I said, now covering confusion with haughtiness. “Either you are no gentleman, or you do not think me a lady.”
He looked momentarily abashed. Then he laughed. “You must forgive me, lady. Customs vary. In my land only ladies have names. Men are called only for their duties. I am, as I told you, Teacher. But I meant you no disrespect.”
“Fine,” I said, forgiving him curtly. The game was becoming amusing, trying to assert some superiority over him in a situation in which I couldn’t help but be inferior, just as I imagined a genuine female diplomat might find herself forced to do. It almost let me forget the fact that though the path we followed was no more difficult than climbing a steep hill, this hill happened to be a thick tree branch that sloped away quickly on both sides, and if I were to stray from the path I would soon find myself hurtling downward. I dared not look and couldn’t guess how far, but, perversely, couldn’t resist trying to find out, either. “How many meters to the ground?”
“At this place I would say about a hundred and thirty, lady. But I’m really not sure. We don’t measure it, much. Once you’re high enough to kill yourself falling, it really doesn’t matter how far the ground is, does it? But I can tell you how much higher we have to go.”
“How much?”
“About three hundred meters.”
I gasped. I knew trees could grow to phenomenal heights on Treason—hadn’t I walked through Ku Kuei?—but surely that high up the branches would be too weak and slender to support us. “Where are we going? Why so high?”
He laughed again, and this time he made no effort to conceal his enjoyment at my dislike of heights. Perhaps his way of getting back at me for the little trouble over names, and all the other slights that I had offered him and his country during our trip. “We’re going,” he said, “to the place where you’re going to live. We thought you’d appreciate visiting the very top. Few outsiders ever have.”
“I’m going to live at the top?”
“Well, we couldn’t very well keep you with the other embassies, could we? They’re men. We are somewhat civilized. So Mwabao Mawa has consented to take you in.”
Our conversation was interrupted as he lightly trotted across a rope bridge, only occasionally using his hands. It looked easy, particularly since the tread of the bridge was wooden. But as I stepped on it, it swayed, and the farther out I got, the worse the swaying was. At the apex of each swing, I could see the trunks of the trees dropping down to a ground so distant that I couldn’t be sure exactly where it was, in the heavy shade. At last I lost control and vomited, perhaps at the midpoint of the bridge. But then I felt better and made it across the bridge without further incident. And from then on, since I was already utterly disgraced, I made no further attempt to pretend not to feel fear—and found that it therefore became easier to bear. My guide, Teacher, was more helpful, too, and led me at a slower pace. I was more than willing at times to lean on him.
And as we finally got to the level where the leaves grew, giant fans as much as two meters broad, the realization sank in that even if I found out what Nkumai was selling to the Ambassador for iron, it would do us little good. How could the landbound, plains-dwelling men of Mueller ever invade, let
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