Gothig only shook its head. I squatted down in front of Zammis and looked up into its yellow eyes. I reached up and took its right hand in both of mine.
"Zammis?"
Zammis looked down, moved its left hand over, and picked up my left hand and spread the fingers. One at a time Zammis pointed at the fingers of my hand, then it looked into my eyes, then examined the hand again. "Yes . . ."
Zammis pointed again. "One, two, three, four, five!" Zammis looked into my eyes. "Four, five!"
I nodded. "Yes. Yes."
Zammis pulled my hand to its cheek and held it close. "Uncle . . . Uncle. I told you I'd never forget you."
I never counted the years that passed. Mistaan had words for those who count time as though their recognition of its passing marked their place in the Universe. Mornings, the weather as clear as weather gets on Fyrine IV, I would visit my friend's grave. Next to it, Estone Nev, Zammis, Ty and I buried Gothig. Shigan's parent had taken the healing Zammis, liquidated the Jeriba line's estate, then moved the whole shebang to Fyrine IV. When told the story, it was Ty who named the planet "Friendship."
One blustery day I knelt between the graves, replaced some rocks, then added a few more. I pulled my snakeskins tight against the wind, then sat down and looked out to sea. Still the rollers steamed in under the grey-black cover of clouds. Soon the ice would come. I looked at my scarred, wrinkled hands, then at the grave.
"I couldn't stay in the colony with them, Jerry. Don't get me wrong; it's nice.
Damned nice. But I kept looking out my window, seeing the ocean, thinking of the cave. I'm alone, in a way. But it's good. I know what and who I am, Jerry, and that's all there is to it, right?"
I heard a noise. I crouched over, placed my hands upon my withered knees, and pushed myself to my feet. The Drac was coming from the colony compound, a child in its arms.
I rubbed my beard. "Eh, Ty, so that is your first child?"
The Drac nodded. "I would be pleased, Uncle, if you would teach it what it must be taught: the line, the Talman; and about the life on Friendship."
I took the bundle into my arms. Chubby three-fingered arms waved at the air, then grasped my snakeskins. "Yes, Ty, this one is a Jeriba." I looked up at Ty. "And how is your parent, Zammis?"
Ty shrugged. "It is as well as can be expected. My parent wishes you well."
I nodded. "And the same to it, Ty. Zammis ought to get out of that air-conditioned capsule and come back to live in the cave. It'll do it good."
Ty grinned and nodded its head. "I will tell my parent, Uncle."
I stabbed my thumb into my chest. "Look at me! You don't see me sick, do you?"
"No, Uncle."
"You tell Zammis to kick that doctor out of there and to come back to the cave, hear?"
"Yes, Uncle." Ty smiled. "Is there anything you need?"
I nodded and scratched the back of my neck. "Toilet paper. Just a couple of packs. Maybe a couple of bottles of whiskey—no, forget the whiskey. I'll wait until Haesni, here, puts in its first year. Just the toilet paper."
Ty bowed. "Yes, Uncle, and may the many mornings find you well."
I waved my hand impatiently. "They will, they will. Just don't forget the toilet paper."
Ty bowed again. "I won't, Uncle."
Ty turned and walked through the scrub forest back to the colony. I lived with them for a year, but I moved out and went back to the cave. I gathered the wood, smoked the snake, and withstood the winter. Zammis gave me the young Ty to rear in the cave and now Ty had handed me Haesni. I nodded at the child. "Your child will be called Gothig, and then..." I looked at the sky and felt the tears drying on my face. "... and then, Gothig's child will be called Shigan." I nodded and headed for the cleft that would bring us down to the level of the cave.