Sacred Balance

I don’t know why it upset me so much to see D’Keda get so angry at the outcast Azu-nah. I’ve heard about criminals all my life. Human history is full of people who have done horrible things.

Maybe that’s why it bothered me; I already knew humans could be terrifying and cruel and hateful. But the Azu-nah are something different. They greeted me with nothing but curiosity. The bigotry or suspicion I’d have taken for granted with a mixed bag of humans just didn’t exist in D’Keda. No one has treated me with anything but generosity. I guess I took it for granted that I was in some kind of shining utopia.

I feel pretty stupid. I should have known better, really. I suppose that makes me naïve?

It still freaked me out to see them so aggressive, though. I mean, how would you react if a friend you thought you knew suddenly whipped out a gun and kneecapped someone?

So, being the naïve twit that I am, I stayed huddled in the cave for a good hour or so. I couldn’t bring myself to go out and ask questions. I was pretty sure I’d get bombarded with some about humans too, and I absolutely didn’t want to get into the assorted atrocities my species has committed over the years.

Nandi actually had to come in and find me. I could feel the skin of my face and neck heating up; it’s embarrassing to be caught gibbering in a corner.

“You hide well!” he said in a voice even I could tell was forcedly cheerful. “Only Slaasek saw you go.”

I tried to think of a way to explain why I’d been upset, but my vocabulary was failing me again. I eventually gave up on being eloquent. “I was afraid.”

Nandi’s ears dropped and he stopped gape-grinning. I could see all the cheer and bluster drain from his posture. He stood quietly for a moment, studying me, and then reached to tug at my wrist.

“Come,” he said. “Come out. We will sit in the sun and it will warm you and burn away the fear.” I smiled and followed him outside.

The cliff face our caves are carved into faces west, and gets the full force of the setting sun (mind, I use the term “west” loosely. The World Research Counsel arbitrarily set up cardinal directions based on those of Earth. Minerva’s magnetic north is technically at the south pole). Nandi chose a ledge of rock a half meter or so off the ground, and spread out on it like a basking lion. I was still feeling a little unstable, and chose a spot on the ground below. The warm rocks were soothing, and were surprisingly smooth. Perhaps they’d been service this same purpose for generations of sun-worshiping Azu-nah.

“Now,” he said, still studying me intently. “Why do you fear?”

Because behind the tough girl scientist exterior, I’m a writhing knot of naked nerve endings? “The khee’troch, “I said. “Why,” I used Kohric’s words from earlier, “why was he put out of the clans? What did he do?”



Nandi let out his breath in a big sigh-snort. “He broke the balance.” His tail began flicking in anger, and his muzzle wrinkled a little; just enough to show the very tips of his two longer, canine-like teeth. “That one was once D’Keda. He will not leave the clan land, even after becoming khee’troch. He did not follow the Creator’s balance.”

I was on somewhat familiar territory with this. “From the Creator’s story Kohric told?” Kohric had stressed how much their deity valued the biosphere remaining connected, and that the Azu-nah were not excluded from that job.

Nandi’s muzzle smoothed, and he parted his lips in a small gape-grin. “Yes. The balance says we only take as much as we need from the other star children. If you take all the koh fruit, the trees will have no seed. If you kill too many chestha, the herds will die. The khee’troch,” he snarled the name, “liked to taste blood. He made many kills. Too many. The clan could not eat so much and the meat would turn. He tasted the blood of sacred spirit-beasts that are not for eating; ba’oh, sekiti, own’wan. The Sa-kudayu and Kan became very angry. The Aket-oizo took his name away and made him khee’troch. The Kan marked him with the khee’troch tattoos. Now he may not live with any clans of the Azu-nah. The balance is sacred; never to be broken. ”

I wonder what humans would have turned out like if we’d had a rule like that?