Damn these boys and their wide-eyed innocence! “No, I’ll also have small splix. So Callie won’t feel alone.”
“So you prefer big splix,” Callie says as the boys leave. “I will keep that in mind.”
“Silly boys,” I grunt. “They don’t know anything about nets.”
“Oh, did you know about nets already?” Callie asks with a little smile on her face.
“Well… not for this purpose, perhaps,” I admit. “But there must have been nets in the village before. For keeping things in. I’m sure I’ve seen some.”
We wander over to the common Circle. The chief is wearing his headdress again, but this time I don’t think it’s just to impress Callie. After the meal, he will cast Sprub’ex out. I’ve heard the men talk about it. Most are in favor of that, but some are not. There will be a lively discussion, I think.
The evening meal goes very well. The men are getting used to Callie, and she speaks so well now that she tells everyone abouther abduction from Earth. I notice she doesn’t mention the friend that she talked about before, but of course she doesn’t want anyone to know about her.
The mood is friendly and relaxed, and the tribe clearly sides with Callie and me over Sprub’ex and the Adropo men.
After the meal, some boys shyly approach, wanting to show Callie the boat they’re building, modelled after mine.
“I’ll take a look,” she says and gets up. “I usually learn a lot from the boys.”
“They do seem to be good teachers,” I agree.
“And so are you. About other things.” Callie briefly strokes one hand along my shoulder, a tender display of affection that makes me unspeakably happy.
“She speaks well,” Veret’ax says as he pours more frit for himself. “In the beginning, she could barely say a word. Now, there’s never any doubt about what she means.”
“It’s the tribe,” I say, feeling magnanimous. “It has welcomed her, and made her a part of it in a short time. I thank you all for that.”
“Not all,” someone mutters. “Sprub’ex did his best to steal her.”
“To think that he prepared the hole in the hut,” the chief marvels. “While building the hut! He was planning the abduction in advance. What got into him?”
“The woman, of course,” Mek’tor says. “She got into him. Surely we were all shocked to suddenly have a woman among us? In the tribe? A woman! Which of us ever thought he’d as much as see one? And here is one now, as alive and different as a… a rekh.”
“We were all shocked,” another agrees. “Sprub’ex was more shocked than anyone, I suppose. Shocked to his very core. I must admit I was, too.”
“Callie’s not the only strange thing that’s happened in this village recently,” I point out, and look towards the lone platform. “Why don’t we blamethat?”
“Thatis in a cage, and can’t ruin things for us,” Port’iz says. “No, Sprub’ex only changed when the woman arrived. From the first moment, he was suspicious. And was he wrong, Crat'ax? You yourself admit that she was brought here by the Plood. The evil Plood, the servants of the Darkness.”
“He was wrong to think that Callie was evil,” I state calmly. “But that was his own business. He was badly, and dishonorably, wrong in trying to take her. Against her will, and against mine. He allied with the Adropo tribe to steal a woman from our village! If anything was ever treason, that was it.”
“I have considered casting Sprub’ex out,” Chief Brun'ax says, still clearly unsure. “On one hand, his action was treasonous. About that, there can be no doubt. On the other hand, things have changed a great deal in the village, and in the jungle, too. There are now round, white bulbs everywhere. They were never there. Then there’s that.” He nods towards the platform. “And then the woman comes. It’s enough to make anyone go mad.”
“Sprub’ex was a good tribesman,” Port’iz goes on. “All his scars were a sign of it. He would often go to the jungle to hunt when needed.”
“And when not needed,” I say. “I wonder now what he was really doing in the jungle. Perhaps he wasn’t hunting so much as meeting his friends from other tribes. He was always moreconnected with the Dry than with the Deep. Perhaps this was always the wrong tribe for him. We will only be doing him a favor by casting him out.”
There are many nods. The discussion goes on for a while longer, and Sprub’ex’s friends say the things in his defence that would be expected of them. But my words carry great weight, as usual.
By the end, the chief stands up. There is silence as he grabs a torch.
Then he speaks the phrase that casts Sprub’ex out from the Bradek tribe.
“By the will of the Deep, and the voice of this tribe, I cut Sprub’ex loose from us. He is no longer carried by our name, nor sheltered by our huts. Our platforms will no longer bear him. From this breath forward, he stands alone, and we will forget that he lived. Let his name never again be spoken.” He plunges the torch into a pot of water, quenching it. Then he throws it in a high arc into the dark ocean.
The Circle is quiet for a while. Then the men silently leave and go back to their work, or their huts.
“Harsh, but necessary,” the chief says as he gets up. “Spru-heis the first man we cast out in my time as chief. I hope there will be no other.” He walks off.
