Ukatonen walked out to the horse pasture with Teuvo. He would miss the old man, and the daily rituals of the horse atwa. The horses were coming along well. They moved as one animal through their paces, and were already hauling light loads. The close synchronization of their movements made them a very strong team.
“I’m going to hate to give these two youngsters up,” Teuvo remarked as they led the horses to the pasture after their training session. “I’ve never seen two* horses move so well together. They’re wasted as farm horses. These two could win championship prizes.”
“The effect will diminish over time, Teuvo,” Ukatonen pointed out.
“Yes, I know, but you haven’t linked with them for four days, and they’re moving almost as well as they did before, in some ways even better.”
“But that’s your doing, Teuvo. I gave you the seed, but you’re the one who has made it grow.”
“Ah, they’re good kids,” Teuvo said as he opened the gate to the pasture. “If they weren’t so bright and eager to please, none of our training would have stuck.” He fed the horses each another carrot, and then they ambled off to join the other horses.
“It is what we would call ruwar-a,” Ukatonen said, pushing up the sleeve of his warmsuit so that he could display the word in skin speech for Teuvo.
“What is that?”
“It does not really translate easily,” the enkar said. “It means that all the parts of the whole are working well together. Each part of a system makes the other parts stronger, better. It is the kind of harmony we Tendu strive for. In a well-run village, it is common as the rain. Everything flows as easily as water flows downhill, or a wave slides back into the ocean. This seems to be a much rarer quality among humans. Perhaps this is a flaw in my understanding. Your world is so complex, it may be happening all around me and I am unable to see it.”
“I think I understand,” Teuvo said. “At least I know what it feels like when the horses and I are working well together. You’re right, it is a rare thing.” He smiled, looking out at the two horses, grazing in unison. “What a world Tiangi must be. I wish I could see it.”
“And why not, someday?”
“Because I’m old, Ukatonen, and at my age, ‘someday’ will never come. In another few years I’ll either be too feeble to travel, or dead.” Teuvo turned away and looked out over the fields, and Ukatonen realized that the old man was sad.
“I am sorry, Teuvo,” the enkar said. “Please forgive me if I have upset you.”
Teuvo shrugged. “Old age happens to all humans. It’s just hard for us to accept. We’re greedy. We want to live forever.” He slung the halters over his shoulder, and headed for the barn.
Ukatonen trudged beside him, feeling an emptiness where the comforting feeling of ruwar-a had been. He liked Teuvo, and the old man had taught him much. He was in his debt. It would be so easy to help him live longer.
“Teuvo, let me help,” he said as they were hanging up the harnesses in the tack room.
“You are helping,” Teuvo said.
“No, I meant let me help you live longer.”
Teuvo froze in the midst of hanging up a bridle. He carefully set the bridle on its hanger, and turned to face Ukatonen.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you are not ready to die yet, and I can help you live longer.”
“How long?”
Ukatonen rippled a shrug. “I don’t know. How long would you like?”
Teuvo sat down on the old, blanket-covered couch with a whoosh of pent-up breath.
“That’s a difficult question to answer,” he replied, “particularly at my age. I’ve had a good life, with more good fortune than most. It would be greedy to want more, but”—he sighed heavily—“God help me, I do. But living forever?” Teuvo shook his head ruefully. “I don’t think so. I’d be leaving too much behind. But it would be nice if my joints didn’t hurt and my bowels worked right.”
“What if I just fixed the things that are wrong with you? You would live longer and feel better, but you would continue to age.”
“How much longer would I live?” Teuvo asked.
“I don’t know, Teuvo— perhaps ten or twenty years more than you would as you are now. Enough time to watch your grandchildren grow up and have children of their own, and perhaps to visit Tiangi.”
“I’d like that,” Teuvo said. “I’d like that very much.”
“Then link with me now, and I will do it,” Ukatonen said, holding out his arms.
Teuvo did, and Ukatonen linked with him. He could feel the old man’s excitement, sharply tinged with the cleanly pungent smell of wonder. Gently, he calmed Teuvo down, then moved through his body, easing and rebuilding swollen joints, cleaning out clogged arteries, removing cells that showed potential for becoming cancerous. Then Ukatonen swept away the accumulated detritus of years out of Teuvo’s retinas and cleared the cloudy lenses of his eyes, restoring his sight to youthful sharpness. He strengthened the arterial wall of a bulging aneurysm. He gently awakened Teuvo’s brain cells, stimulating them to divide and grow for a few weeks, replacing dead and dying cells, and building new neural pathways, returning his mind to the supple quickness of youth, while keeping the wisdom and experience of his years.
“How do you feel?” Ukatonen asked as Teuvo awoke.
“I’m hungry.” He stood, slowly at first, then more quickly as he realized that it didn’t hurt, and walked over to the door of the tack room and stood looking out over the vineyard. “I can see better and my joints don’t hurt.” He took a deep breath and turned back to the enkar. “It’s like the whole world just got a little brighter. Thank you, Ukatonen.”
“You will improve over the next few weeks. Eat well during that time, your body will be busy rebuilding and repairing itself. You’ll want to eat a lot of meat, vegetables, and fruit.”
“I’m ready to get a start on that!” Teuvo exclaimed with a smile. “Let’s go get some breakfast!”
Juna closed her suitcase and started to lug it downstairs.
“Here, Juna, let me take that,” her father said. “You shouldn’t be carrying such things.”
“Isi, it’s all right, I can manage.”
“I know you can, dear, but humor your poor old dad,” he said.
Juna let him carry the bag downstairs. Toivo’s recovery seemed to have taken years off her father.
She stepped onto the porch and looked out over the harvested vineyards, bright with red and golden leaves. The arched vault of the station curved overhead, colored in tones of earth and gold and green. She didn’t want to leave, but there was so much the Tendu had to do before she was tied down by maternity.
“Breakfast is ready,” her aunt called.
“Coming, Netta-7ati,” she replied, taking a last look out over the vineyards before she went inside.
Breakfast was slow and difficult. Juna pushed her food around her plate, her throat tight with nausea. Anetta fussed over her, concerned by her lack of appetite, while Moki looked on anxiously. Her father meanwhile piled his plate high, and ate like a farmhand in the middle of harvest.
At last the ordeal of breakfast was over. Juna and the Tendu gathered their things together and loaded them into the truck. Then they drove over to the Fortunati house to say goodbye. The whole family was waiting for them as they drove up. Toivo was sitting up straighter today.
“Look!” he said. Slowly, painfully, he raised first one knee and then the other.
“That’s wonderful, Toivo!” Juna enthused. “I’m so glad that you’ll be coming to Snyder, too. It’ll be nice to have some family close by.”