Light from a candle set in a glass dish on a high shelf awakened him. No doubt it had been lit carefully while he slept by some conscientious servitor.
“Wake up, I said.”
He rolled over, found himself staring up at his wife’s excited face. He rubbed tiredly at his heavy eyes. “What is it?”
“Etienne, Tyl took me through half the town, by torchlight. The system of government these people have developed is unique to sentients in this technological classification! These Tsla are a xenological wonder. Do you know that the spiritual administrators—and they’re not priests, more the equivalent of primitive psychoanalysts—actually hold half the seats of government?”
“That’s interesting.” He began to roll over but she put a hand out to restrain him. He looked irritatedly back over his shoulder.
“Etienne, listen to me! This social structure is unprecedented. This is a presteam civilization, yet the people are socially advanced enough to pay extraordinary attention to something as sophisticated as mental health. They don’t define it quite like that, of course, but it comes out the same. They may be the stablest primitive alien society yet encountered, and they do this without holding any unwarranted illusions about themselves.
“No wonder the Mai fear and suspect them! The Tsla are so much better balanced. The Tsla have come to terms with the health of their minds earlier than most peoples do with the condition of their bodies. Even Martinson’s work on Alaspin is proof of it. This discovery, Etienne, it’s worth all the trouble of making the expedition.” She stood and began to pace the room.
“The Tsla are special, unique. There’s more than a chip monograph here, there’s an entire volume.”
“I’m thrilled for you.” He let out a helpless yawn. “Do keep in mind that we have half a river left to explore.”
She started to comment, changed her mind in midthought. “You’re exhausted, Etienne. We’ll discuss this in the morning.”
“You should be exhausted too.”
“I know, but I can’t hold back the enthusiasm. I’m running on adrenalin, Etienne, and I have to share this with someone. Who else if not you?” She hesitated and added in an odd tone of voice, “Tyl would be interested.”
“Tyl strikes me as a good listener.” Etienne pulled the light blanket up around his neck.
“He is, and a good talker as well. From all I was able to discern he’s regarded very well by his fellow Tsla. I watched him perform his evening prann. Beneath all those robes and cloaks they wear, some of these people are very impressive physical specimens, Etienne. Much more impressive than the Mai.”
“Makes sense. The climate up here’s less benign and working steep terraces requires more strength than tending to a floodplain.”
“Yes. Much more in the way of physical strength,” she murmured.
“I’m glad you had such a profitable evening. Now if you don’t mind, I really was enjoying my sleep.”
“Sorry. Inconsiderate of me.” She tiptoed backward from the room. “I’ll leave you now, Etienne, and I’ll try not to wake you when I return. I have to find Tyl.”
“Sure,” he mumbled, already half-conscious again, “go find Tyl.”
He felt much refreshed the next morning. The sun was shining brightly through the skylight and window and a basin of clear cold water was waiting for him by the foot of his bed. It was the best night’s sleep he’d had since leaving Steamer Station.
He splashed water off his face, dried himself with his shirt, and looked around.
“Lyra?” The other couch-bed was empty. He raised his voice a little. “Lyra!”
She entered through the arched doorway a moment later, already fully dressed and wide awake. He frowned at her.
“Didn’t you get any sleep?”
“Sure did. Slept like Lazarus, got up at dawn. This is such a wonderful place, Etienne. I know it’s an unprofessional thing to say, but there’s no comparing these people to the Mai, Homat being an exception. From what Tyl tells me there’s next to no crime among the Tsla. We can leave our possessions anywhere in town without fear they’ll be stolen. That’s another byproduct of their concern for mental health. They’ve learned to cope with their baser instincts not only better than the Mai, but better than many people I know.”
“That’s quite a judgment to make on the basis of half a night’s conversation with one native. Isn’t it an unwritten rule that all primitive cultures have their hidden eccentricities? I’m sure the Tsla’s will appear in due course.” He hunted for his lederhosen.
“Maybe so, but I haven’t seen any evidence of it yet and I’ve been looking. Hurry up. Tyl’s waiting for us.”
“Waiting for us? Why?”
She didn’t try to mute her exasperation. “To guide us to the temple of Moraung Motau, remember?”
“Sorry. Still full of sleep. What about something to eat?”
“That’s waiting too. I’ve already sampled the local cooking. It’s blander than the Mai’s but perfectly palatable. Don’t worry about Homat and the others. They’ve already eaten and they’re stretched out under their skylights, soaking up the ultraviolet.”
The meal that was brought to their room was simple but ample. Tyl joined them, watching while they ate and sharing their enjoyment if not their table.
Etienne muttered a terse thank you, asked, “How far is it to this temple?”
“A day’s journey. We will spend the night near there.”
Etienne searched his memory, was unable to conjure up the sight of any large structures at the far end of the valley and told Tyl so.
“You did not miss seeing it, friend Etienne. I perhaps should have said it lies a day’s ride from Turput. We will not use our own feet.”
“Lowagons?” Etienne inquired, thankful for his feet.
“No. Those are tools of the Mai. We will ride lekkas. When thee are ready, I will take thee.”
In the stable area behind the hospitality building they encountered their first lekka, a furry thin-legged creature with an incongruously rotund body and a double tail that switched nervously from side to side. Blunt furry faces turned to glance curiously at the bearers of strange new smells. They waited with placid expressions and chewed their cuds as Tsla handlers attached reins to the base of high, forward-curving ears. The forelegs were longer than the hind, an unusual arrangement for an animal built to run. Etienne thought of hyenas and giraffes, though the lekka was bulkier than either.
In consequence, there was no pommel on the woven cloth saddles. Instead, each boasted a high backrest designed to keep the rider from sliding backward down the sloping spine. It was heavily padded. There were no stirrups. The handlers brought stepstools to assist in mounting.
