Semiosis: A novel of first contact. Sue Burke
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you prove that?”
“Someone should review the satellite data code,” I said. “That’s the proof.”
Nicoletta stood up. “I will.”
I looked at Octavo. He was staring far away, his lips moving silently.
“That’s not what this meeting is for,” said Vera. “You—”
“What else do you know about the city?” I said.
“There’s no city,” Terrell said.
“It’s that rainbow fruit,” Bryan said. “I’ve analyzed it. An alkaloid. Do you know what alkaloids do to people? Cocaine, nicotine, strychnine. They’re addictive. They affect your thinking. Mescaline. People took mescaline and thought they saw God.”
And cocaine and nicotine had ruined Earth, he didn’t need to say that. Rosemarie and Daniel were sitting together, holding hands. Her other hand covered her mouth, and he was looking all around, nervous.
“Ephedrine is an alkaloid, too,” said Blas, the medic, another child speaking up, but he was apologetic, staring at the ground. “It’s what keeps some of you breathing.”
“The city is there,” I said. “The bamboo has fruit.”
Vera’s wrinkles deepened into valleys. “This is outrageous. You broke the covenant, and now you bring all sorts of false charges. We need to set things right before we continue. But no more talk about this before the next meeting. It’s divisive, and we need to put our energies into productive work. And I want everything that Sylvia and Julian brought back analyzed.”
“I can do that,” Octavo rasped. Bryan looked disappointed. I felt frustrated but I hid it. I’d never convince the parents but I knew that a few children already agreed with me. As we walked back to the lodges, I got some gentle pats of support.
“I will give these things a real analysis,” Octavo said when he came to my room, huffing and wheezing. I doubted it because he knew they had killed Julian and he hadn’t done anything. I stared at the fruit, dying to nibble it, to feel the dried flesh become alive and sweet and rich in my mouth. “More fruit,” he said. “Good.”
“I have glass maker bones.” I watched to see how he’d react.
“Bones … Very good.” But he wasn’t pleased or surprised.
“You knew about the city.”
He wouldn’t look at me. “I can analyze these,” he said, and shuffled away. Liar. But I didn’t think he liked lying. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t keep lying.
The methane fermenters in the power units of the weeding robots somehow broke down the next morning, which was cold and rainy, so Nicoletta was too busy fixing them to have time to examine the satellite maps because the crops came first. I was sent to fix the roofs on the gift center and Cynthia met me there.
“We can’t even talk about it,” she said.
“So don’t,” I said. “Don’t talk about anything.”
That evening, seven of us children ate dinner in silence. Some of the grandchildren thought it was a game and joined in. Higgins tried to hush Vera as she talked about the weather and new problems with the medical equipment, which meant more unexpected work for Nicoletta and delays for Octavo’s testing, since there wasn’t enough equipment to investigate our surroundings and care for Ansel’s perforated ulcer, Terrell’s this, someone’s that, and Bryan’s malingering joint trouble. With every sentence, Higgins shook his head, no no no! Other grandchildren joined in. Vera opened her mouth and a half-dozen little heads wagged.
Bryan ran out of patience by the next morning. “You’re addicted to the fruit, right? Answer me!” As a reply, I took off my clothes because parents hated nudity for some Earth reason. He hobbled away as fast as he could.
The protest caught on. Higgins and his little friends got naked and tried to undress people.
That afternoon Vera looked me in the eye, deliberately ignoring my body, when she ordered me to make a cage for hydrogen seeds about to ripen, so I was on my way to the shed for esparto grass when Octavo limped up.
“The fruit is fine,” he said.
“Bryan lied? And you, will you lie?”
“There has been enough lying, but that is not the important part. It is complicated. We can start with the fruit.”
I wanted to start with the lies but he’d get to that eventually or I’d make him.
He walked toward the shed with me. “It has plenty of vitamin E, which might actually help with our fertility problem. We have yet to find a good source of it. And some other oil-soluble vitamins like niacin.”
He stumbled a little and I made him lean on my shoulder because liar or not, I still couldn’t hate him. He didn’t seem to care that I was naked but he kept rambling.
“But vitamins are only natural, just like pyridoxine and their alkaloids. Oh, yes, alkaloids … just like the snow vines. We had to rethink the meaning of alkaloids because of that, you know.” He looked down at my face. “It is an Earth science assumption. We … had always thought they were a leftover from nitrogen metabolism stored in leaves or fruit or flowers to be discarded with them. Useful, of course …”
He was breathing too hard. He needed to rest a moment. I suggested finding a bench but he said he didn’t want to keep me from my work and slowly, slowly, we kept walking and he kept rambling and I kept waiting.
“Alkaloids are part of nature, although not as common here. Which seems only logical, since the plants had more time to evolve. Monocotyledons on Earth do not make them often. Apparently … they have more efficient metabolisms. Although alkaloids discourage predation. Nicotine is a potent insecticide. The plants here create all manner of toxins …”
He stared at the trees and shrubs as if he’d never seen them before. I reminded myself to be patient, at least for a while.
“The problem with potent toxins being that the learning curve is steeper than the lifetime. The predators never live and learn, which they do with alkaloids … The mere taste is the chief discouragement. If something does not taste discouraging, there usually is not a … sufficient concentration to worry about. Addictive in this case, not surprisingly. Alkaloids often are, like caffeine, but harmful is another matter. The plant wants you dependent, not injured. Very wise choice, addiction … You say the fruit is delicious? Bryan is too excitable. And not just about that …” He looked around. “I am too excitable. I taught him, and I suppose I taught him that, my fault, all my fault … again, and I paid for it.”
“Julian,” I said.
He didn’t answer, just looked sad.
We’d arrived at the shed and I opened it and pulled out a bundle of grass.
“What?” he said. “Esparto? No, let me see.” He grabbed the bundle, squinted at the ends of the stems, and took out a hand lens. He studied it, then threw the grass down as if it would bite him. “Wrong … wrong veins. Where did you get this?”
“I picked this a while ago up in the south meadow.” But maybe it wasn’t the same bundle. It looked a little smaller.
“Ricin. This has ricin.” He bent down to rub his fingertips with clay. “Wash your hands, too. This is not esparto, it is Lycopodium ensatus. It looks about the same dried, but … you would never mistake it when you picked it. Exotoxins … it has plenty, a kind called ricin. By the time you wove this all, the skin would fall off your hands.” He picked up the bundle with his walking stick. “We must burn this. The grandchildren, you know. They could get hurt.”
“How did it get there?” But I already knew. I hadn’t gotten the hint with Julian and I needed to get another lesson.
He carried it on the tip of his walking stick