Unexpected Stories by Octavia E. Butler Page B

conventions in this, Ehreh. The Hao and his party are to be brought here unharmed, untouched if possible. They are to be treated as potential friends, not as prisoners. They’re to be convinced that we’re only being cautious with them. If we can make them understand that, then they’ll be careful not to do anything that might make us turn hostile.”
    “We can’t be too gentle with them,” Ehreh said. “We can’t take the chance of their escaping.”
    “Take a large enough force with you to prevent their escape. Take as many fighters, both judges and hunters, as you think you’ll need. But remember, the point is to give them no reason to risk trying to escape.”
    Ehreh stared at her. “You want me to go after them, Tahneh?”
    “Would you rather I send someone else—someone with less knowledge of the Hao, someone who’ll lose this boy?”
    He considered this, then gave the slight flash of white that indicated agreement. “For that matter,” he said slowly, “you should go yourself.”
    “You won’t need me if you do as I’ve ordered!” The words came out more sharply than she had intended and she knew that Ehreh would notice.
    He looked at her silently for several seconds. “You’ve been alone for a long time, Tahneh. You should welcome this chance to capture another Hao.”
    “The people need him, not me,” she said shortly. “They’ll have him.”
    “They will if I can catch him without your help.”
    “A moment ago you didn’t even think you were needed to make the capture.”
    “A moment ago I hadn’t thought at all. I’m thinking now, though. A Hao … We’ll need you, Tahneh. If he decides to leave his friends, escape alone, we may lose him no matter how many fighters I have.”
    “He won’t do that if you don’t give him reason. We Hao don’t particularly like abandoning our friends even when it’s necessary.”
    Ehreh laid a hand on her shoulder and she felt the pressure of it heavily. “‘We,’ Tahneh? Already, ‘we’? You must have been more lonely than I thought.”
    She said nothing.
    “By refusing to go after this boy, you are giving him a chance to escape.”
    “I’m giving you a chance to prove that you deserve your high position!” The words stung him as she had intended them to. She saw yellow flicker in his coloring and was pleased. It was better to have him angry and defensive than to have him beginning to doubt that she was acting in the best interests of the people.
    “I am not Hao,” he said quietly. “I cannot perform Hao duties.”
    “Nor will you define Hao duties.”
    His yellow flickering stopped, and to her surprise his coloring faded toward gray. Gray was for the most private and deeply felt grief. “This is an ordeal that both you and the boy must bear, Tahneh.” Ehreh spoke very softly. “We are close, you and I, and I can see the pain that you think your harsh words hide. I understand your sentiment, but the people can’t afford it.”
    Tahneh let some of her own gray come through bleakly. “All right, Ehreh, we’ll stop snarling at each other. It’s meaningless anyway; I’ve already made my decision. Gather your judges and hunters and go capture the young Hao.”
    “You must come with us!”
    Her blue returned at that—returned harshly metallic, a cold threatening color. She said nothing to Ehreh. She only looked at him. He understood that he had gone too far. He rose silently and left her.
    When he was gone, she sat still for a long moment, then bent over slowly, veryslowly, until her head touched her knees. She rocked back and forth, still moving with agonizing slowness, and her body became a deep gray. Once she spoke the name of her father loudly, sharply as though she were asking a question. But the dead were dead; death was an end. She neither expected nor received guidance. But she did call to mind the memory of her father, sitting on his mat, lying on his pallet, sitting in the litter that the people had used to carry him.