THE EDEN DILEMMA by Tucker Spolter 

Chapter 14

On her fourth turn with the Joeng – when Aven slid aside the reed curtain –  Krista was up, dressed, and on the Tineke carpet doing sit-ups. “Seventeen.” Krista puffed.

     Moogy bounded from Krista’s bed and into Aven’s open arms. 

     Krista sat upright and grinned at Aven. “I’m getting jealous, Do you care about me, or do you only come to visit Moogy?”

     “A very good question,” Aven laughed. “Are you hungry?”

     Krista rose to her feet.  “I am. Is my doctor also a chef?”

     “I am,” Aven said heating a sweet and sour broth and several small scone-like pastries in a portable, ceramic oven.  

     Krista pointed to the device. “That's quite an appliance. Small and utile.”

     “Made from river mud baked in a kiln. As I said we're a mobile society. Right now, you need to eat.” Aven admonished. “Gain some weight and strength.” She eyed Krista kindly. “And keep doing those things you're doing. I'm impressed.”

     “Sit-ups.” Krista stood and took a sip of broth from the cup. . . Then downed the rest in two gulps.  “I'm impressed!” She pointed to the empty cup. “That was delicious.”

     “Of course it was.” Aven did a small courtesy and sat on a small stool. “Two questions. Why do you call them sit-ups when you're lying on the ground . . .not sitting?” 

     Krista paused in thought before shrugging. “That's a very good question. . . What's your second question? ”

     “Think you can make it back to the ocean today?”

     Krista bit into a pastry and lifted her eyes. “Why?’

     Aven shrugged innocently and looked away. 

     This time Krista's pause was longer. Suddenly realizing. Not one member of the Joeng had asked her how she got to the beach.  Or about the shuttle?  Krista chewed slowly. Waiting. Waiting.

     Aven looked up from her lap. “We know how you got here. Your shuttle flew right over our heads.”

     “And I didn’t see you?”

     “We didn’t want to be seen. The trunk drums warned us long before you arrived. We thought Sagra or the Council had learned to fix the old shuttle. From the air, our village looks like a field of reeds. We simply went inside. . . But you're not very observant.”

     Krista bit her lip. “Why is that?”

     “How did you miss the fishing boats on Nunu Island?”

     A sheepish grin crossed Krista's face. She decided to change the subject. “What do the Joeng have to fear from Sagra or his Council?”

     Aven stood abruptly. “Tonight, Ravel, Ste, and some of the others have asked that you join the Night Fires as our guest of honor. There will be food, drink, and entertainment.  And . . . things to be discussed.”  Aven held out her hand. “Now, do you think you can hike to the beach?”

     “Do you have more than one reason to go to the beach?”

     “I do.” Aven shouldered a reed basket.  “Come on Moogy.”  At the door Aven turned to Krista, “Is it okay if my friend Nos joins us?”

     “Of course.” 

#

     Aven, Krista, and Nos stood on the rim of a steep, hundred-foot cliff above a U-shaped cove.  A zigzag path went from the top down to a tiny beach.  Off of each zig and zag an intricate series of foot-wide paths curved with the contour of the cliff.  

     Krista pointed to the avian creatures she'd called gull-fliers darting onto and away from the slick face of the cliff. “What do you call those?” She asked.

     “Key-ya.” Aven said.

     “Key-ya.  Key-ya,” Nos cried flapping his arms. “That's the sound they make. Ste can mimic every flyer around here.  But now— '' Nos flipped a pouch from his back to his shoulder. “Got a job to do.”

     Krista watched in awe as Nos bolted down the main trail and deftly navigated the narrow paths on either side.  Nos reached high and bent low grabbing Key-ya eggs from various nooks and crannies. Several of the more aggressive avians dove at Nos. But he was oblivious, never losing his grip or footing on the cliff. 

     Nos returned to the top of the cliff with a smug grin and a pouch full of Key-ya eggs.  He handed one to Krista for inspection. “Notice anything weird?” He asked. 

     Is everyone on Iuama testing my observation skills? Krista thought, giving the egg a long look. Moogy appeared from somewhere and joined the inspection. “Something weird?  What do you mean, Nos?”

     “Ah. Ha. The narrow end.” Nos pointed to the tapered end of the egg. “Key-ya’s don't make nests. The smaller end makes them roll in a circle in the wind or a storm. . . Makes them less likely to roll off the ledges and break.  Aeries and gazbags make nests and have rounder eggs. Cause they're not going anywhere.” Nos's eyes fell away shyly.     

     While Krista – and apparently Moogy —digested this information,  Nos took off his shirt and started down the zigzag path. “Going for a swim. See you.”     

     “He's awfully cute,” Krista said when moments later and far below Nos dove into the surf. 

     “He is . . .” Aven paused and thought for awhile.  “He’s a maybe.”

     “A maybe?  A maybe what?”

     Aven smiled. “Can this wait until tonight?”  Aven pointed to the reed basket on her shoulder.  “I have a lot to share.  And maybe. . .”

     “There’s that maybe again.”

     “And maybe. . . Maybe you might share some things too?”

     “I think I know where this is going.”

    “Good.” Aven smiled broadly, “Can you manage the egg sack?” Krista nodded.  “Thanks.” Aven adjusted her basket and started across a well-beaten path toward the rim of the cliff. 

     Krista lifted the sack and hurried after her. Moogy bounded past them, through a gap, into a small, domed, artificial enclosure. From inside came human squeals of delight. 

     Aven took Krista’s hand and they followed Moogy through a high wall of stone, sand, and vegetation. “Welcome to Trunk Duty.” Aven laughed. “An essential part of the Joeng emergency early warning system.”

     “Good fishing! Soft storms,” a man and woman from the Fisher group greeted their arrival. 

     “Good fishing! Soft storms,” Aven returned. “Any trouble on the horizon?”

     “Nothing on the horizon,” the woman smiled. “Never is.”

     “Nor the bogeymen who supposedly live in the Pulat Mountains. Not even an alien attack from either of our moons,” the man joked. “I don’t suppose you’re here to relieve us?”

     “Nope,” Aven said quickly.  “Twelve more turns before Nos and I are on Trunk Duty again. I’m showing our guests our sophisticated warning system. Later I’ll teach her some of our top-secret code rhythms.” Aven and the Fisher people laughed. 

     The cat mewed.  Moogy was pawing a resting place among the blankets on a u-shaped bench that surrounded a hallow, seven-foot tree trunk-like post. A four by ten-foot, concave tarp, was stretched from each corner. Spliced tendrils of the hairy-head flower held the tarp fast. A geared crank pulled the tarp taunt in several directions forming a two-foot hallow, seven feet tall.

     “What do you think?” Aven asked. 

     Krista stepped closer to the structure.  “Okay, what am I missing?”

     Aven smiled and approached the post. “Hold your ears.”

    Krista obeyed.  So did the Fisher couple. So did Moogy. Aven gently flicked a finger against the column. A  BAROOM  rattled through the enclosure. Moogy screeched and bounded out of the entrance, over the rock wall, and vanished.

     Aven drew a single club from a pile under the bench. “Can you imagine the noise these things can make?  Notice. . . The gap in the tarp faces directly toward our village. Unless you are deaf, everyone can hear it.”

     “There's a second Trunk Station that faces the ocean and warns when our boats are out to sea,” the Fisherwoman added.  “Different beats tell different tales. Some warn of trouble. Others tell when the anunu and other fish are on the move.”  

     Aven turned toward the Pulat Mountains. We don’t have many large mammals, but when the efids migrate across our plains we can see their dust from here and our hunters can go for the meat.”

Aven looked at the Fisherwoman. “No offense, but fish, fish, nothing but fish gets boring.” 

            #       

     Krista and Moogy followed Aven down the zigzag path Nos had taken earlier. Until today Krista had never seen this cove during her earlier explorations. Though she knew they weren’t far from her encampment and the shuttle. 

     Together the trio spread a tatami mat on the crimson sand. It was easy to talk because the tight configuration of the surrounding cliffs dampened the voices of the wind and waves.

     Nos lay quietly with his chin on the palms of his hand.  Aven withdrew various stones, plant life, and oval objects from her reed basket and laid them on the tatami mat. Aven opened the lid wider and encouraged, “Look inside.”

     Krista bent her head. The reed basket was porous. Slivers of sunlight revealed several speckled, feathery, leaf-like objects scurrying from one side of the basket to the other vaulting over a line of the pentapods she’d seen on the beach during her first turn. Aven gave names to both creatures, a summary of their life habits and their symbiotic relationship. Aven’s ‘class’ rivaled any vid-study or prof-lect Krista ever attended on the Erebus or any down-world university. 

     From a side pocket of the basket, Aven pulled out two objects, hid them from Krista’s view in a clenched fist for a moment, and opened her fingers. “Remember these?”

     “Bell-berries,” Krista said. 

     “They do look like bells,” Nos agreed.

     “We call them Q fruit,” Aven said. “They have several functions.”

     “Besides poisoning people?”

     “That’s a good one,” Nos laughed.

     “Beside poisoning people.” Aven shot Nos a glare and started to peel the shell.  “We use

bits . . .” She glanced up at Krista. “Small bits as sweeteners. We also discovered that a small slice will dampen the urges between pairings.”

     “Dampen urges?”

     “Sexual urges,” Aven said matter-of-factly.

     Krista looked from Nos to Aven for a reaction. There was none. “Aven, it’s none of my business, but how old are you?”

     Aven pushed a copper lock of hair from her forehead and said proudly, “Fourteen, Iuama.”

     “I’m thirteen,” Nos said. “Third stage.”

     “You are not,” Aven said adamantly.  “Your first stage.”

      “I am not. . . And how do you know what — “ 

     Krista sighed. “And what are. . .?  What did you call them?  Pairings?”

     Aven took a deep breath. “Um. When you. . . When two. . . Sometimes more . . .People choose to become one for an extended period. . .What do your people call it?” 

     Krista shrugged.  “Cohabitation, polygamy, marriage.”

     Nos and Aven laughed. “Marriage. They told us about that.” They nudged each other. 

     “We heard that didn't always work out so well,” Aven said

     “The divorce thing,” Nos smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Sometimes murders.” 

     Krista leaned back in the sand using her arms as braces. 

     “Krista, you have much to learn about Iuama, the Joeng, and our ways.”

     “Yeah. So can we see your space shuttle?” Nos asked.