“Do you think they will eat her soon, or save her for a while?” How easily the words came now, the absurd words.
Tyl looked to Ruu-an instead of replying. “It is hard to say. Certainly they have sense enough to wonder at the differences between her and us. If any among this tribe has ever seen a Mai, they may think she is kin to them, albeit from a larger tribe. They may want to sample this new food right away, but I think they may choose to make a special feast around her. Thus they would save her for a last meal.”
“I have to proceed on that assumption.”
Tyl eyed him curiously. “What can thee do, Learned Etienne? I am wounded for thee. I was very fond of Learned Lyra. I learned much from her and enjoyed our sharing of customs and knowledge. Both pupil and teacher she was, but there is nothing to be done for her now.”
“You and your damn fatalism! She’s my wife, damn it, and as long as there’s the slimmest chance she’s still alive I have to go after her. It’s her own damn fault for being so careless and putting me in this position, and she knows it. She’s probably laughing over my predicament right now knowing that I have to come after her or risk everything going down the drain. Months of work, years of preparation all at risk because she didn’t have a care for her fat rear and let some big dumb cretin of a native stuff her in his shopping bag. Lost her pistol, too.” He shoved the other asynapt into his belt.
“I’m going to go back to the boat for our cold weather gear. Lyra’ll be lucky if she doesn’t freeze to death before she finds herself on the menu. Or maybe she won’t be lucky. It depends on how right your assumptions are and how fast I can move up there.” He scanned the rock wall.
“One thing I can tell from here; I’ll have to hike it. No way the repellers will last long enough to get me up that. What about trails? Are there foot trails leading to the plateau, or do they just follow the easiest route down?”
“Always they follow the easiest,” Ruu-an said. “That is their way. They make no attempt to hide themselves, for they have nothing to fear from us. But I do not understand what thee intend, Learned Visitor. The captured are already lost. Whether alive or dead this moment matters not. Thee saw how the Na fought here in our homeland, constrained by our walls and overheated as their bodies were. Think what they will be like to confront on the Guntali, where they are at home and in comfort. I will meditate on thy mate’s behalf.”
“Thee meditate thy butt off. I’m still going after her.” He turned to their guide. “Tyl, you’ll come with me, won’t you?”
“As the First Scholar tells, the captured are already lost to us. In any case we can do nothing against the Na in their own land. To do so would only be to add to the rolls of the departed.”
“How do you know you can’t do anything if you’ve never tried?”
“Logic, Learned Etienne, and common sense, dictate our actions. We are calm because we are sensible, content because we understand our role in the scheme of existence.” He reached out to try and comfort his distraught hairless friend.
“Please, Etienne, friend, thee must continue with thy work. Thy Lyra would have wished it. Thee must not grieve for her.”
“I’m not grieving for her, you gutless wonder. I’m going after her because she may still be alive.” Then, more quietly, “I mean no insult, Tyl. I won’t grieve for her unless I know for a fact that she’s dead.”
“If thee wish to perish alongside her, why, that could be understood,” said Ruu-an, attempting to make some sense of an alien reasoning that flew in the face of all logic.
“I’ve no intention of committing suicide.”
“That is what thee will do if thee persist in following the Na onto the Guntali,” Tyl insisted. “I am sorrowed, Etienne, but I cannot follow thee. My teachings, my beliefs, will not allow it. You may ask of any others thee wish.” He did not add that such a request would be a waste of time.
Etienne forced himself to reply as courteously as possible. “I respect your beliefs, Tyl. I don’t understand them and I don’t sympathize with them, I don’t even like them, but I can respect them. But I’m wasting time standing here trying to convince you.” He wondered what Lyra would say if she could hear Tyl’s refusal.
“I’ll go after her myself.”
“Thee will not return,” Tyl warned him.
“Oh, I’ll come back. Look at it like this: I’m going to acquire additional knowledge. It will be a learning experience.”
“Death is learned soon enough,” Tyl said. “They who—”
“I will go with thee.”
So intent was he on his mental preparations and his frustration with the Tsla that Etienne didn’t hear the voice.
Again it said, “I will help thee.”
“Who said that?” He turned, to find himself confronting one of the porters. The last porter anyone expected to say anything: Yulour.
“If thee will have me, Learned One.”
“Have you, yes, and glad of it.” He didn’t think Yulour could think fast enough to be of much help in a fight, but if supplies could be piled on that willing, powerful back they would make much better time. And it would be good to have company. In that respect the porter’s slowness did not concern him. He doubted he’d be much in the mood for extended conversation atop the Guntali.
“Why? Isn’t it against your spiritual principles?”
“I have no spiritual principles, Learned One.” Yulour fought with the large Tsla words. “I do not have sense enough to have them.” He looked hesitantly past the human. “Teacher Tyl must allow. I am bound to him.”
Tyl was staring curiously at the porter. “I cannot allow myself to go, nor would thy companions, but if thy conscience is clear and committed.”
“What is conscience?” Yulour asked innocently.
Tyl sighed. “No matter.” He turned to Etienne. “He may accompany thee as he wishes. I cannot stop him, though I would if it were in my power. All beings have free will. Remember this, though: thee will bear a heavy responsibility if he dies. It will be on thy conscience.”
“I’ll remember that.” Etienne faced his one volunteer. He’d had little personal contact with Yulour, indeed, with any of the porters, preferring to give them their instructions through Tyl.
“Thank you, Yulour. I accept your offer of help. It would be better understood among my own people.”
The porter shook his head sadly. “I do not understand, Learned One.”
Etienne clapped the Tsla on one muscular shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re willing to help.”
“I like Teacher Lyra,” Yulour said with simple sincerity. “I want to help her.”
“If we can, we will, Yulour.”
They hurried back to the hydrofoil, ignoring the crowd of curious Tsla which had gathered around it. Homat was waiting to greet them.
