Chapter Seven
Bluefur


Eva was willing to stay on the FriendShip for several weeks, as the pommits asked her to do, but only if she was allowed to visit home every week or so and let her loved ones know what had become of her.  They were not entirely forthcoming about why they wanted her to stay.  After all, the primary problem they had “hired” her for, so to speak, had been solved without her even laying hands on it: the mystery of why the Carapacian party had killed themselves had been solved.  Given free range of the ship, they had discovered an advanced electric drill in the miscellaneous supply room.  Once their leader had figured out how to operate it and what it was capable of, the rest was a matter of instinctive passion and instant gratification.  The drill had been a gift from heaven, since despite the application of all their efforts over the age of their species’ sapient existence, the Carapacians had never discovered electricity.  So, Eva was not sure what more she was needed for.  She was not, however, about to leave this opportunity behind.  As soon as she had acclimated herself to the seemingly haphazard way things were done aboard the FriendShip, Eva found herself to have grown quite fond of the pommits.  She had been given her own room (one of the half-sized ones the crew slept in), whlie Angorim now shared the larger space with Balallip and the food officer, Kazeedl.  Eva was eager to see what would become of this first contact, having had the fortune to experience it both as a representative of her planet and as an outsider.  Despite her continued feeling of inappropriateness for the position given her, she wanted to take home as much information as possible about these extraterrestrial races and their civilizations—Earth would expect it of her.  And finally, she knew she would not be able to sleep quite soundly if she left the pommits to handle things on their own.  Handling their own ship seemed to tax their resources quite enough.

She was going to want to reassure those she left behind that she was all right, though, and that great things were on the horizon for humankind.  The large pommit called Brogoii, whose authority the others all deferred to on the subject, agreed readily to this much, but forbade Eva to tell anyone anything specific.  She was not to spread word of so much as the existence of extraterrestrial life except to those who already knew, and to them she was to keep mum about what they were like and why they had solicited her help.  When asked why all the secrecy after Jemmiut had talked to eleven other people in the world through their hearing aids, Brogoii grew somewhat defensive.  “The Fact is that we were Not Authorized to Interact with your People in the First Place,” he said.  “We did make a Mistake in Asking for you.”

“Oh?  Yes, Prywroth did say that you may have acted out of place.  But did you really make such an egregious error as I think you did?”

“Yes well,” he replied, hastily bowing his head and looking bashful, “We were had been SUPPOSED to only to talk to the Carapacians on this trip.  While we did brainstorm however, somebody did have an idea that maybe we can go recruit a Human Being to help as a Cultural Intermediary.  I think perhaps it was Teriyum.  Anyway, you must see that there had been at least two crews sent out in the last year or three meant to talk to Human Earth.  There was so much Attention about it that we did believe that we had Already made friends with your Planet.”  Brogoii’s ears fanned up and down excruciatingly.  “But it seems that we were all of us mistaken.  Well,” and his voice dropped, “except for Prywroth.  Now that I think of it, he did warn us.  But he did not seem to care one way or the other.”

“But...what does that mean for your mission?” Eva asked, concerned.

Brogoii had by this time retreated too far into bashfulness to say anything.  Balallip, who was standing nearby, said, “It does mean we is in trouble.”

Eva raised her eyebrows.  Ballalip raised her ears.

“What kind of trouble?”

“Well, Brogoii and Jemmy and I just yesterday was telling the Outbound Ship Authority person about what we had been doing...and while I think I must translate she did say something like this: ‘You is done WHAT?  You is done BAD!!  No, we did Never Contact them!!  Those ships that we did send did come Home after Observations because they did see that the timing for talking to the Humans was Poor.  ‘Xcept for the one what got Lost and that we did have to come Rescue.  No, you is SCREWED UP BAD and I think if you ever do come Home then we will have to PUNISH you!!’”

Brogoii and Eva looked at Balallip, who raised her head and wings in innocence.

“I am sorry for the trouble my arrival here has caused,” announced Eva.

“No it is not Your fault, silly,” said Brogoii, coming out of his stupor.  “We will find a way to Cope.  In any case now you see why it is Quite Important that you do not spill our Secrets when you visit your Home.”

Eva nodded, mind tumbling over things.  How much could she tell her friends and family?  Would she even be wise coming back?

She assented to their terms and was told that her first visit could be in three days.  “You do mean Earth days, correct?” she asked.  “What?  Oh yes, that is fine,” she was told.  She wondered if she could have named Jupiter days and gotten a better deal.



The FriendShip had left the Carapacian atmosphere soon after the conversation with Craig in the Eating Room.  Eva had not been allowed to see Craig during the following twenty-four hours (a unit into which she still habitually broke her time).  She had been astonished by his appearance and mode of behavior and had longed to see more, but Gomeo told her that Craig was in seclusion in the Health Room, and that Jemmiut was working with him to achieve a kind of “Mutual UnderStanding.”  Eva was left to herself, having been given no duty in the crew—she suspected that the very concept of duty was a little shaky with her crewmates.

She spent much of her first free day in her room, since for all her presumption with the pommits, she was still overwhelmed by this adventure.  All she had to occupy her, however, were a collection of various pillows, a rubbery blanket, and the not-very-interesting contents of her purse, which she had packed for practicality rather than entertainment.  She wanted to conserve the batteries in her cell phone and wished she had brought her PDA along.  When she was not hunched into the straps she had finally found on the wall in response to a venture into zero gravity, she spent her hours lying awkwardly on bunched up beds of pillows, reciting in a mumble what lines she remembered from her current project, a local theater production—local to her home, that was—months down the line that she worried she would be unable to perform.  This was but a feather on her bed of worries and she brushed it out of her mind offhandedly.

She was invited three times that day to meals in the Eating Room.  The pommit who invited her, Kazeedl, explained that they typically ate only twice daily when on a voyage, but had been told that in her culture thrice daily meals were more commonplace, and had altered their own patterns to match.  Eva had found, indeed, that her companions the pommits were extraordinarily accomodating in this regard.  It was not only that they had all taken the trouble to learn her language and speak it whenever in her presence, which was impressive enough.  They had reprogrammed the lighting system of the ship to conform to a twenty-four hour cycle—Angorim claimed when asked about her own natural rhythm that it was “close enough.”  Kazeedl cooked meals she felt Eva would be familiar with.  Derrapp’n and Angorim retailored certain aspects of the lavatory to be more suitable for her.  Teriyum promised to work on making copies of her clothes so they would not have to be washed every day.  Finally and most amusingly, Brogoii spent who knows how many hours labelling various items and parts of the ship in English for her easy reference.  It was nice to know which box in the control room was the hull integrity monitor and which the pilot’s console, but Eva had woken up that morning to find a sticker marked “PILLOW” stuck in her hair.

At meals, Eva spoke on sundry topics with the pommits.  She did not initiate anything at breakfast and the conversation centered largely around incomprehensible matters of politics on the pommit homeworld, Homeplanet.  Eva was hardly included, though remarkably enough most of the conversation was carried out in English.  Perhaps, she mused, they found it a refreshing challenge to translate their concepts in front of her.  At luncheon, they seemed to notice her again for the first time.  Questions hurtled at her concerning her life, her work, her passions, her opinions on seemingly irrelevant topics.  They asked her what her son was doing these days and why she so seldom went to see him.  The one with the high-pitched voice, Teriyum, harped on this question.  Eva was at first defensive, and then let down her barriers and admitted she would missed him and would like to see him more often.  It was easier to deal with the pommits, even irritating Teriyum, without a facade of any sort.  She found that while they were prone to asking difficult and sometimes intrusive questions, they were always forgiving in the end.

When she arrived at supper, Eva was determined to steer the conversation toward the FriendShip’s other diplomatic guest, the Carapacian.  She knew it was too early to see him, but felt that she needed certain information, and that certain issues needed to be nudged toward resolution.  She was pleased with herself for being able, finally, to tell all the eleven pommits of the crew apart.  All of them but Jemmiut, Eliihmn and Prywroth had been present for breakfast and luncheon, and Eva was presently surprised to find Ojiann’s place taken by Prywroth that evening.

“Eva,” he called, raising his forebody to rest delicately on his eating mound, his weight resting on his claws.  “I am gla’ you coul’ join us for supper.  We would be Greadly gra’ified to be’efit from some of your valu’ble insight.”

So began one of the more philosophically remarkable meals of Eva’s life.  She would compare it later to a soiree she’d attended in Vancouver at a friend’s rented home that had become unexpectedly a sleepless sleepover.  Between the first glass of wine at seven in the evening and the giddy-headed rush to clean the place before check-out at eleven the next morning had transpired a exchange between seven persons so beautiful in its symmetry, lack of repitition, and pacing that it put the concept of art to shame.  Eva knew that the wine could not acount for all of that.  Nor could it account for a cast party in Toronto that had lingered for hours in a midscale restaurant’s private room which had featured a brilliant discussion on the destiny of man (or lack thereof) that Eva suspected had changed the worldviews of at least half its participants in some humble manner, herself not excluded.  She was no stranger to extraordinary discussions, and while this one may have lacked some of the sophistication and some of the atmosphere of those other famous contenders, its remarkable setting and even more remarkable cast could only enhance its standing.

Eva was given spiced baked beans, bread, and lobster salad to eat.  She sat at a large crate, rather than eat standing up or leaning against one of the sloping mounds that the pommits preferred.  The food was pleasant and satisfying, even while it tasted in an oddly characteristic way of pommit cookery.  She made a mental note to ask Kazeedl about her methods, and enjoyed it for the present.

Prywroth started off right away by asking her about what she thought of Craig.  Eva took a bite of lettuce and lobster and said that if he was telling the truth about his people’s feelings toward death, it was the most incredible thing she’d ever known.  “Imagine—a culture where suicide is not shameful and taboo, but honored!  I can only guess what that transposition must mean for the rest of their moral culture.”

Prywroth fluttered his wings and then put them at rest.  “Tha’ is I suspect ‘mong the LEAST AmAzing feat’res of this species.  What truly ‘mazes ME is that the poor sillies are unABLE to kill demselves.”

Eva was brought to attention.  “That is true,” she said.  “I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It is not Hard to Think of,” trilled Teriyum.  “That is Why we do call them Carapacians!  Because they do have a thick Carapace!”

“To speak figuratively,” said Derrapp’n, the long pommit with scarlet marks.  “But in fact it is their Dermis that is hard, not a Shell on the Outside, and when I say Hard, I do mean HARD!  It is more hard than aLUminum Oxide!”

 “Iss prob’ly jus’ abou’ as har’ assa Di’mond,” offered a sleepy-looking Kazeedl.

“Well ev’n soo,” said Prywroth, leaning forward, “i’is surpRIsing that they have Not found a way to Crack it.”

“Are you sure they haven’t?  Perhaps that wouldn’t be enough to cause death.”

“No, that is the Reason!” said Teriyum.  “If they could Open their own Cases, they could shove AnyThing Inside that they did Want!!  If they did Jam in Enough then SURELY they would die!!”

Eva felt a little revulsed and took a sip of water.

“Well, it is a fact that the Carapacians cannot crack their own Skins,” summarized Brogoii brightly.  “But even That is less surPrising than that if they do Truly Wish to die, they do not simply Starve themselves to death.”

“You are Forgetting That is beCause they Do Not Eat, Silly!!” shouted Teriyum.  Brogoii seemed only slightly plussed.

“How can any animate organism survive without eating?” wondered Eva aloud.

“A plant does not eat.  It merely does drink and absorb delectable things,” observed Angorim.

“Plus it does SunBathe,” Derrapp’n added.  “That is Vital.”

“Well do you suppose that a Carapacian does Sunbathe in the exact Same Way?” Angorim asked.

“If it diid,” postulated Prywroth, “then it could Easily as Much DIE by simply not being out in the Suntime.”  This comment’s wisdom birthed a silent moment in which everyone refreshed themselves from their plates before continuing.

“I’m sure that if a...a Carapacian really wanted to die, above absolutely all else...he could find a way,” said Eva.

“Are you mos’ perfectly Cert’n?” asked Prywroth with an undulation of his ears.  “I do B’lieve that Mr. GrayField does wish to Die.  And tha’all his Fellow CaraPacians do too, most Honestly.  I do not know for Cert’n.  PerHaps there is Simply some way to Die that is just Too Painful to consi’er.  But when you are Talking ‘bout the most ‘Por’ant thing Ever in your Life...what kin’ of Pain are you NOT willing to go Throuugh?”

Eva considered this.  “I would tend...to agree.  But.  It just doesn’t add up.”

“Why does it not add up, Sillly?” asked Balallip.

“If a Carapacian could cause its own demise by shutting itself in a room with no sunlight, and no water, for some amount of time, then it seems likely that it would do so,” reasoned Eva, “assuming what Craig told Jemmiut is true.  And there can be no doubt that however primitive their technology, they will have had this basic idea.”  The others nodded and fanned their ears receptively.

“Well then,” she went on, “why have they not all done so?  And if doing so would not kill them...well...how is that even remotely possible?  Where do they get their energy from?”

Derrapp’n, who was the mechanically minded pommit, jumped in.  “Absolutely Exactly!  It seems impossible.”  She took a bite of her food, which was purple-brownish and lumpy.  “If a Creature does not Want Energy, it should Always be able to Not Get it.”

“Agreed,” said Brogoii.  “The rest of us work Too Darn Hard for it.”  He punctuated his words with a chunk of something firm and porous held out on a fork with three tines arranged in a triangle, and this was taken as a toast.  The other pommits rustled their wings and took a few moments to ingest as much energy as they reasonably could.

As Jemmiut and Craig, the prime authorities on these matters, were not present for questioning, the conversation at this point took a slightly different turn.  Through a full mouth of food, Kazeedl pronounced that “I’ Anny casse, i’is clear that the Carapasscians are most InCre’ibly Insaane!”

“They are inSAAANE?” prompted Balallip playfully.  Eva had noticed she had two quite distinct moods: one where she was very gregarious, and one where she was shy.  Meals seemed to bring out the gregarity in her.

“Yes they are most Def’nitely Insane!” confirmed Brogoii.

“Silly Insane Creatures!” shouted Teriyum.  All the other pommits made a vibratory sound very much like “Heeee” that was almost like a musical arrangement.  Eva was a little disturbed at how quickly this judgement had gained a consensus among the crew.

“Just because they’re different from you?” she demanded.  “Can you really, seriously, brand an entire species of people insane?”

The jovially that had arisen was lost almost instantly.  Some of the pommits folded their ears entirely and looked down humbly at their plates.  Others turned into thinkers, determined to meet this challenge.

It was Prywroth, naturally, who spoke first.  “Eeva.  Of Course they are no’inSane.  To them it is prob’ly WE who are inSane!  Yet surely you will’dmit i’is a travesty that anyone should be Giv’n Life and shoul’ not Love it.”

“I...”  That seemed reasonable to Eva, but she had to expand on the subject.  “I knew a great many people who did not love life.  I still do, really.  I can’t say there weren’t even times when I was one of them.”

“Is it not Grand to be Live?” murmured Balallip, peering intently across.

“Let me ask you, and I hope it’s not too rude,” said Eva.  “Are there ever...suicides...among pommits?”

“SUicide??  ‘Mong POMMITS!?” exclaimed Balallip.

“I suspect ‘su’ is Self and ‘cide’ is Kill,” said Angorim in distaste.

“There is never any suicide ‘mong pommits,” answered Derrapp’n definitively.  Her eyes were proud.

“Nnno.  There is Nnnever,” confirmed Kazeedl.

“Never?  Not even when life gets unutterly bleak and everything you lived for is lost?”

“When did that ever happen?” wondered Angorim.  “I do not remember it.”

“I’is poss’ble for a Whole String of Bad things to’ccur all in a row,” stated Prywroth, who was just finishing his meal.  “Bu’ Always at least there is the Joy to be Live.”

The pommits all bowed and fluttered their wings in agreement to this.  Eva found herself asking, “Then in what does this...joie de vivre, if I may, consist?”

“Jooiie??” echoed Balallip.

“It is hard to say,” said Angorim.

“I’is most simple,” explained Prywroth, standing down and away from his mound.  The room fell silent of rustles.  “Seems there was Once a great Pommit Ph’losopher called BlueFur.  In fact he was the Most great of All.”  One or two pommits flapped their wings in appreciation as Eva listened with great interest.  “Bluefur it is said in Lore was the first creature to ever Notice that he was Alive.  ‘Fore that everyone did simply Be alive and did not Notice it.  But Bluefur was very ‘bservant.  That was back beFore ma’y people did Talk much.  Mos’ly they did just look aRound.  As for Him he did look at all the Flow’rs an’ the Suckles an’ the Insects and he did notice tha’ they All were Live in a Sim’lar Fashion.  Then he did look at himSelf and he did make the very Same realiZation.  That was when Bluefur did beCome a Ph’los’pher.”

Eva settled in to listen to a story she suspected all the company present had heard before, in one form or another.  She wasn’t sure; their interest did not seem dimished.

“When Bluefur did Realize he was aLive, he did of course want‘o tell Everyone he Knew ‘bout it!  ‘Course this was back when we were Small an’ the Razzles an’ the Goomblies were still aLive.  So Bluefur did creep through the Vines and Brush and Tangle ‘til he did find a Goombly.  An’ he did say, ‘Goombly!’  An’ the Goombly did look up at him.  An’ he then said, ‘Did you know that You are ALlliive?’  And of course the Goombly did not know Any such thing and it did say ‘Nuh.’  So Bluefur did have to try and eXplain to the Goombly what it did Mean to be Live.

“‘Goombly, what are you Doing?’ he did ask.  ‘I is buildin’ a hole,’ said the Goombly.  ‘Why and what for are you Building a Hole?’ ask Bluefur.  ‘Cause I is cold and I want a place to lay my babies,’ say the Goombly.  ‘What for?’ ask Bluefur.  ‘What do it Matter if you are Cold?  Why not simply lie down and BE cold?’  ‘What??’ say the Goombly.  ‘I do not wanna be cold.  I wanna warm place.’  ‘Why for?’ ask Bluefur again.  Course by then the Goombly was beComing somewhat tired of this and it say ‘I do not know what for I wanna warm place!!  I JUST DO.’  An’ that was when Bluefur stood up proud an’ said ‘That is because you are ALIVE.’  An’ then the Goombly sort of looked like kind of it did underStand, an’ Bluefur did Cuddle it Round the Collar and say ‘Take care of yourself you Living Thing.’  An’ I do B’lieve it Did.”

Prywroth’s audience was rapt.  Eva looked around and noticed that the light in the Eating Room had grown dimmer since he had started talking.  She appreciated the circadian cycle all the more, since it had allowed for a graceful segue into storytelling time.

“Eva D’rant, the ph’losopher Bluefur did become famous in his time.  Because of him people did begin to Talk to each other alot, so it is Said.  An’ Bluefur was invited to the Court of the Cabal, which was the place of Power in the forest where he did Live.  All of the most Powerful Pommits who had joined together to run the Forest Khiyay did live in a Ring Enclosure made of Mud and Wood.  An’ they did once an’ again invite all the inTelligent denizens of the Forest to a Meeting of the Court so that they could Trade inforMation.  When Bluefur did come forth, the Chief of the Cabal di’ isolate him and ring him all ‘Round with branches an’ boards so as to make him mos’ SuprEmely Visible.

“‘Bluefur the Pommit’, the Chief did say, ‘we have heard that you did inVent a thing called Life.’  An’ Bluefur did reply, ‘I did not invent it, but simply have DisCovered it.’  An’ the Chief then asked, ‘Well then what is Life?’  An’ Bluefur answered, ‘Life is what all the moving growing consuming things have got.’  ‘An’ what is that,’ asked the Chief in front of Everyone.  ‘Why,’ said Bluefur, ‘i’is that they do DO stuff!’  Every object can move and be USED for a thing, but only a Live thing can DO a thing!  An’ it is Fun to do a thing!!’

“Everyone was impressed by this discov’ry.  Bluefur was asked quite a lot of questions.  For ‘xample, one member of the cabal asked him:”

“What is the Purpose of life?” called out Angorim.  She had her wings raised, the outer segments held parallel to the floor.  Eva was only slightly startled to hear her speak: obviously the young female had heard the story before and knew her part in it.

Prywroth continued while ambling about the room.  “ ‘The purpose of Life,’ said Bluefur, ‘is that i’is good for Doing Stuff!!  If you would like to eat a Sausage, for ‘xample, i’is best to Do it when you are Alive.  Also if you want to Meet somebody you should do it when you are alive, or to swim across a River or invent a kind of Ladder.  Now that I think of it i’is probably best to do Everything while you are alive.  It would be very hard if you were Unalive.’”

“What is the opposite of Alive?” asked Derrapp’n, playing her part in good cheer.

“ ‘That would be Dead,’ said Bluefur.  ‘Or else perhaps not Born yet.  In which case you would probably not want to do anything Anyway.  An’ that is the Beauty of Life!!  Only living things can Do things, but only living things Want to do things Anyway.  So there is no boredom in being dead an’ wanting to do things but you Cannot.’”

“Am I a living thing?” asked Brogoii, happily chewing on the last bite of his meal.

“ ‘Course you are a living thing.  Anyone who does ask a question is a living thing.  Also anyone who does Listen or Care is living.  In short Anyone Worth Being.’”

“Is it GOOD to be a living thing???” trilled Teriyum.

“ ‘Living thing does think so!  Ask any living thing if it is Glad to be Alive!  It will either say “Yes!” or it will be so busy being Live that it does not have time to answer!’”

“What do I do if I encounter a living thing,” asked Balallip in character.

“ ‘If you should be so Fortunate as to encounter a Living Thing,’” orated Prywroth as Bluefur, striding around the room and posing with his back arched, “‘I have determined that there are Several things which you should try to Do with it if you At All Can.  The very BEST thing to do with a Living Thing is to BE it.’”  This pronouncement hung weightily in the silent air.  “‘Unfortunately for each person i’is only possible to do this with One Singular Living Being—yourself.  If, therefore, i’is imPossible to Be a living thing that you do find, the Next bes’ thing to do with a living thing is to BEFRIEND it.’”  There was another silence.  Prywroth turned ominously to face Eva, tensed on all fours.  “‘And if it does Prove imPossible to beFriend a living thing...then the Third best thing to do with a Living Thing is to EAT it!!!’”  Here Prywroth flashed a nasty set of teeth and Eva was jolted to the marrow.  She jerked back and sat shaking on her seat even after Prywroth had turned away.  Was his threat merely part of the theatrics?  She was too shaken to say.

Prywroth crept about, looking in each pommit’s face, and continued.  “‘If That Too is Impossible, then the Fourth bes’ thing to do with a Living Thing is to STUDY it.  An’ if you cannot do That, then after That the Fifth best thing to do with a Living Thing is to HARNESS it.  An’ if that does prove impossible Too then the Sixth best thing to do with a Living Thing is to IMITATE it.  An’ should That as Well prove too difficult then the Seventh best thing that you can do with a Living Thing is to DEFEND YOURSELF ‘gainst it.  And finally if you cannot do that then the Eighth best thing to do with a Living Thing is to IGNORE it.  An’ Everyone can do That.’”

Prywroth sat down on his haunches and addressed the dinner party with solemn intensity.  “‘An’ finally, no matter Which of these Eight Things you do to a Living Thing, the thing that you mus’ Always Remember to do with it is to LOVE it.  That is vital, no matter what.’

“That was what Bluefur did say at the Court of the Cabal.  An’ the Court had never heard such wisdom since they Decided on the Law of Gravity.  So they did Honor Bluefur and of course they did Befriend him, because with the’xception of Bluefur himself they did find it impossible to Be him.  An’ Bluefur did go on to be a Mos’ Wise Philosopher and Said a great Many very Wise things about Living things and ‘Bout Animals.  But none is as Well reMembered as what you should Do if you do find a Living Thing, and that what it Means ‘bove all to be a Living Thing is that you do Love to Be Alive.”

And that was that.  The lights had dimmed to a yellowish haze without Eva really noticing.  She found herself touched deeply by what she deemed an excellent theatrical performance.  To her eyes it had been unrehearsed and spontaneous, and she was left with nothing but respect for Prywroth.  At one time she had considered Brogoii the leader of this crew if there was one, but now she knew that it could only be Prywroth.  Except...that there truly was no leader.  Angorim had told her that.  It always struck her as odd when she thought of it, and now even more so.  Without a leader, how did they organize the functions of their ship?  Was Prywroth the one they all looked up to, the leader in all but name?

Eva realized that there was a weight in the air beyond simple appreciation for the performance, and even beyond reverence for the herished story.  The pommits were avoiding eye contact with each other.  They were not just awed; they were, to a large degree, anxious.

Eva saw Gomeo, who had been completely silent all through supper and storytime, go darkly about collecting empty dishes and trays and toss them into a hole in the middle of the central mound.  He then took three complete dinners from where Kazeedl had stacked them—rations for the pommits on duty, most likely—and went on silent feet to the door.  Just before he left, Eva heard him mumble under his breath, “...means ‘bove all else to be a living thing...is that you do Love to be alive.”  Then he was gone.

Eva sat somberly as she watched the other pommits take their leave.  They glanced at each other with uneasy eyes, their wings held only just apart from their bodies.  Balallip bowed briefly to Prywroth, but neither she nor anyone else said a word as they left.  They all were preoccupied, all worried.  With a chill feeling, Eva realized why.

“Prywroth.”  He was the last one left in the room.

“Yes, Eva?”

“Prywroth...this discovery of Craig’s planet.  It really...is a big deal, isn’t it?”

Prywroth’s voice was very quiet, almost reverent for the faded lights.  He looked Eva straight in the eyes.  “’Course it is a big deal when a planet is ‘scovered,” he whispered.

“But...this discovery that we made just yesterday, at lunch,” she pressed.  “Craig, and...what he told us.  That’s incredible even to me, but...to you...”

Prywroth nodded.  It was the first time she could recall a pommit nodding to her.  His mannerisms told her what she needed to know: Prywroth had not told the story he had chosen tonight just for her benefit.  It had contained lessons that the entire crew had no doubt been remembering, consciously or unconsciously, since the previous afternoon.  It had been necessary to bring it out in the open, much like a wound that had to be opened before it could be healed.

“Eva, Homeplanet does not need to know,” Prywroth whispered.  “We all of us do no’ know what to doo.  If we go back home then we will be Punished.”

“What kind of punishment are you...looking at?”

“I think perhaps we will be Public’ly Shamed.  We will no longer be ‘lowed to have a job where we can ‘fect the future of our People.  An’ we will be Jeered at forEver, all ‘leven of us.  That is what I fear.”

Eva was almost at a loss for words.  “Is...is that unacceptable?”

Prywroth shrugged his heavy wings, for the second time showing Eva a human gesture.  “I s’pose it may be our Only Option, if we do become Homesick.”  He closed his eyes and was still.  “And there are Few things so Dread as to be Truly Homesick,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry, Prywroth.  What do you—what do we...do?”

He opened his eyes fearfully.  “I s’pose we mus’ explore our Options,” he answered.  He folded his wings at his sides and looked around.  “We is got only a Few of them.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.  First, there is the poss’bility that our Carelessness will be’xcused.  If we do some great deed, or if we prove that we could not Know—that you Humans had not been Talked to—”

But Prywroth did not seem optimistic.  Eva put her hand on his back and he did not did seem to mind.  He looked up.

“Second.  If we do decide that the Time has Come for we Pommits to Meet with your Earth...”

Eva took a deep breath.  “Yes?”

“Then perhaps if we do make the meeting happen Well, the whole issue will become most Moot.”

Eva nodded, a bit overwhelmed with the challenge of the task which for some reason she identified as her own, in part.  “Or...?”

“Third, there is always the Chance that we might find a New home.  If we could go to Another planet that is not too different, and live There forever, then perhaps we could Stave off homeSickness...”

Eva shook her head.  She didn’t want it to have to come to that.

“Well then Fourth, we could all go to TinyPlanet and hide who we Are.  We could all change our colors and voices and try to pretend to be someone else for the rest of our Lives.  Then at Least we could Fly again.”

Eva was getting more and more distraught as she listened.  She had come very much to feel for these aliens.  It was a tragedy to her that the very act of contacting her might cause their lives to be ruined.  She bent her head down and stroked Prywroth’s featherlike surface sadly.

“But the most ‘Portant option is Yours.  Wha’ever else we do do, You are the one we do need the Most.”

Standing tall, Eva shivered slightly.  “You still need my help,” she said.

“Of course we do, Eva D’rant.  You are going to have to learn the language of the Carapacians.  You are the one who will have to talk with Craig.  You are the only one who has the Chance to truly underStand him.”  Prywroth fanned out his ears and took in the scope of the room with his glance.  “You have heard Tonight why that is.”

Eva nodded.  “I will speak with Craig,” she whispered.  “I’ll do my best.”

“Good.  Jemmiut will meet with you in the morning.  I do wish you a Good Night, Eva D’rant.  I do Admire you.”

Prywroth left the room.  Eva remained standing in the dim yellow light, wondering whether she was stunned by Prywroth’s words, and why.

Chapter 8

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