Chapter 14 – The Apostate

Leaf Eater: Humans say that when your brothers die, you bury them in the dirt and use that dirt to make a house. (laughs)

Miro: No. We never dig up where people are buried.

Leaf Eater: (stiffens with agitation): Then your dead will not help you!

——

Ouanda Kunhata Figoyla Machumbi, Dialogue Log, 103:0:1969:4:13:111

Ender had thought it might be a bit of a hassle for them to take him through that door, but Oanda touched the box, Miro opened the door, and the three of them walked through the door. No one was questioned. It must have been the same as Ella had hinted at - no one wanted to get out of the fence, so any tight security measures were unnecessary. Whether this shows that the people are happy to stay in Miracle Town, or whether they are afraid of the pigs, or whether they hate their captivity so much that they have to pretend that the walls don't exist, Ender can't start guessing yet.

Both Oanda and Miro were very nervous, almost scared. This is understandable, of course, because they are violating the constitution of the parliament by letting him come. But Ender suspects there are more reasons than that. Miro's nervousness was accompanied by eagerness, a sense of urgency, he might be scared, but he wanted to know what was going to happen, he wanted to move forward.

Ouanda hesitated, cautious, her coldness not only fearful, but also hostile. She didn't believe him.

So when she stopped behind the big tree that grew closest to the door and waited for Miro and Ander to follow, Ander was not surprised at all. Ender saw how Miro looked annoyed for a moment, and then reined in his own. His quiet mask was as calm as a human being. Ender found himself comparing Miró to the boys he had met at war school, estimating what it would be like for him to be a comrade in the army, and then thinking that he might do well there.

Oanda is the same, but for a different reason: she holds herself accountable for what is happening, even though Ender is an adult and she is much younger. She didn't bow down to him. Whatever she feared, it was certainly not authority.

"Here?" asked Mirovin.

"Or pull it down. Ouanda said.

Ander stooped over the root of the tree. "This is the tree of the Roots, isn't it?" he asked.

They reacted indifferently—of course—but their momentary pause told him that, yes, he had taken them by surprise, because he knew something from the past that they thought must be their own. I may be a stranger here, Ender said silently, but I don't have to be a clueless person.

"Yes," Ouanda said. "His totem seems to be the one they most often get from it—indicated. In recent years - the last seven or eight years. They never let us see the ritual of their conversation with their ancestors, but it seems to have included beating on the trunk of a tree with some thick polished stick. We sometimes hear them at night. ”

"Sticks, made of fallen wood?"

"We think so. Why do you ask this?"

"Because they don't have stone or metal tools to cut down trees—don't they? besides, if they worship trees, they're less likely to cut them down. ”

"We don't think they worship trees. That's a totem. They represent the ancestors who died. They — planted them. On the corpse. ”

Oanda wanted to stop there so she could talk to him or ask him questions, but Ender didn't want her to think that she, Miro, for that matter, was leading the expedition. Ander wanted to talk to the pigs himself. He used to never let anyone else decide his itinerary when he was ready to speak, and now he is not prepared to set that precedent. In addition, he has information that they do not have. He knew Ella's theory.

"Is there anywhere else?" he asked. "Have they planted trees at any other time?"

They looked at each other. "We haven't met," Miro said.

Ender wasn't just curious. He was still thinking about the anomalous reproductive phenomena that Ella had told him. "Do these trees grow on their own? Are there saplings and young trees scattered throughout the forest?"

Ouanda shook her head. "We really haven't seen any evidence that a tree has been planted outside of the body of the deceased. At least, all the trees we know of are quite old, except for the three outside. ”

"Four, if we don't hurry," Miró said.

Yes. That's where the tension between them lies. Miro's anxious feeling was to save a pigman from being planted under another tree.

And Ouanda cares about something completely different. They've revealed enough of themselves to him now, and now he can let her question him. He sat up straight, his head tilted back, looking at the leaves above, the outstretched branches, the light green color that performed the photosynthesis proved that evolution in the worlds was inevitably the same. This is the central point of all of Ella's paradoxes: the evolution of this world is clearly quite in line with the same pattern that heterobiotics see in all parts of the world, but there are places where this pattern is broken and collapsed. The pigs are one of the few species that have survived the collapse. What is Exochromia and how do pigs adapt to it?

He was going to change the subject and say, "What are we doing under this tree?" But at this moment, his head was tilted back, the soft green leaves swaying gently in the barely perceptible breeze, and he felt a strong sense of déjà vu (Note: the official translation of the original French déjà vu. A sense of "déjà vu" that you perceive a scene or event. Usually hallucinations. Some people think that this is a premonition that there was a time and space...... As for this...... Careful readers may have guessed it...... ）。 He used to look up at the leaves. Recently. But this is not possible. There were no big trees on Trondheim, and none of them grew inside the walls of Miracle Town. Why does the sunlight through the leaves feel so familiar to him?

"Speak people," Miró said.

"Hmm," he said, allowing himself to be dragged out of his brief musings.

"We didn't want to bring you out here," Miro said firmly, but from the fact that his body was in the direction of Oanda, Ande knew that in fact Miro wanted to bring him out here, but he was counting himself in Oanda's reluctance to show her that he was on her side. You love each other, Ender said silently. But tonight, if I were to speak of Macau's death tonight, I would have to tell you that you are brothers and sisters. Had to drive a [***] taboo wedge between you. And you will hate me.

"You're going to see—some—" Oanda paused.

Miro smiled. "We call it something of suspicious behavior. It started with Pippo, and that was accidental. But Lipo did it on purpose, and we're continuing his work. It's careful, step-by-step. We are not completely ignoring the provisions of Parliament in this regard. But in times of crisis, we have to lend a hand. For example, two or three years ago, the pigs lacked Macio, the kind of black bug they used as their staple food—"

"You're going to tell him this?" asked Oanda.

Ah, Ender thought. Maintaining the semblance of unity was not as important to her as it was to him.

"One of the purposes of his coming here was to talk about Lipo's death," Miró said. And that's exactly what happened before he died. ”

"We have no evidence of causation—"

"Let me discover cause and effect," Ender said calmly. "Tell me what happened when the pigs went into famine. ”

"It's the wives who are hungry, they say. Miró ignored Ouanda's anxieties. "You see, the male surname collects food for the female surname and the children, but there is not enough food supply. They kept hinting at how they would have to go to war. How will they all die. Miro shook his head. "They looked like they were just happy about it. ”

Ouanda stood up.

"He hasn't said yes yet. Nothing has been promised yet. ”

"What do you want me to promise?" Ander asked.

"Don't- let any of this-"

"Don't tell you?" Ander asked.

She nodded, though she clearly hated the childish wording.

"I can't promise that," Ender said. "My profession is to tell people the truth. ”

She turned to face Miro. "Look!"

Miro looked frightened by this.

"You can't say. They're going to block the door. They will never let us through again!"

"So you're going to have to find another job?" Ander asked.

Ouanda looked at him contemptuously. "That's all you know about aliens, a job, another intelligent species in the forest. Xenogenesis, not xenogenesis, they must be understood. ”

Ender didn't answer, but he didn't take his eyes off her face either.

"It's like the queen and the overlord," Miró said. "Pigs, they're like zergs. It's just smaller, weaker, more primitive. It is true that we need to study them, but this is not enough. You can study beasts and don't care if one of them dies or gets eaten, but these - they're just like us. We can't just study their famine and watch their destruction in war, we know them, we-"

"Love them," Ender said.

"Yes!" said Ouanda challenged.

"But if you leave them, if you are not here at all, they will not perish. Will they?"

"No," Miro said.

"I told you he was going to be like those commissioners," Mr. Oanda said.

Ander ignored her. "What will they lose if you leave?"

"It's like—" Miro struggled to find the right words. "It's like if you could go back in time, back to the old Earth, back to before the alien slaughter, before the interstellar travel, and then you said to them, you can travel among the stars, you can live in other worlds. Then show them a thousand little miracles. A light source controlled by a switch. Steel. Even something primitive - a jar of water. Agriculture. They see you, they know what you are, they know that they can be like you, do everything you do. What will they say - take these, don't show us, let us live our dirty, short, savage, small lives, let evolution take its course? They will say, give us, teach us, help us. ”

"And you're going to say, I can't, and then you're leaving. ”

"It's too late!" said Miro. "Don't you understand? They've seen those miracles! They've seen us fly here. They have seen us tall and powerful, with magical tools, and know things they never dreamed of. It's too late to say goodbye to them and leave. They know what they can do. The longer we stay, the more they want to learn, and the more they learn, the more we see how learning helps them, and as long as you have a little compassion, as long as you understand that they are—"

"People. ”

"Xenomorph, whatever. They're like our children, you know that?"

Ender smiled. "Which son of a father among you asks for bread and gives him a stone?" (Luke 11:11; Matthew 7:9)

Ouanda nodded.

"Exactly. The council's statute says we can only give them stones. Even though we have so much bread. ”

Ender stood up. "Well, let's keep walking. ”

Ouanda hadn't reacted yet. "You haven't promised-"

"Have you read about the Queen of Worms and the Overlord?"

"I've read it," Miro said.

"Can you imagine that a man who chooses to be called the Speaker of the Dead would do anything to hurt these little guys, these Picnios?"

Ouanda's anxiety had apparently lessened, but her hostility had not diminished. "You're slippery, Mr. Andrew, you're smart. You mentioned the worm to him, and you read the scriptures to me. ”

"I explain to everybody in a language they understand," Ender said. "That's not a slippery head, that's convenience. Choose different ways to explain according to different objects so that the listener can understand). ”

"So you'll do whatever you want. ”

"As long as it doesn't hurt the pigs. ”

Oanda sneered. "As you judge. ”

"I don't have anyone else's judgment to use. ”

He walked away from her, out of the shadows of the branches that stretched out on all sides, towards the forest that awaited at the top of the hill.

They followed, and ran to catch up.

"I've got to tell you," Miró said. "The pigs have been asking you to come. They believe that you are the same person who wrote the Queen and the Overlord. ”

"Did they read that book?"

"In fact, the pigs are on the verge of adopting it into their religion. They treated the printouts we gave them as if they were holy texts. And now they claim that the Queen of Worms herself is talking to them. ”

Ander looked at him. "What did she say?" he asked.

"Say you're a real talker. And you are with the queen worm with you. And you're going to let her live with them, teach them all things about metal, and — it's crazy. It's the worst thing that can happen to them, they have such unrealistic expectations of you. ”

It is possible that this is simply their unilateral wish fulfillment (note: 'wish fulfillment' is a psychological term. Refers to the phenomenon that dreams or babbling may be the outpouring of true wishes. Miro apparently believed so, but Ender knew that the queen had indeed spoken to someone from her cocoon. "Did they tell me how the Queen of Worms talked to them?"

Ouanda is now on his other side. "Not with them, but with the roots. Then the Root One talks to them. Completely part of their totemic system. We always try to play with them, pretending that we believe it. ”

"You're really condescending. Ender said.

"It's standard training in anthropology courses. Miro said.

"You're so busy pretending to believe in them that you don't have any chance to learn anything from them. ”

For a moment they were left behind, so he actually went into the forest alone. Then they ran to catch up with him. "We've dedicated ourselves to learning about them!" Miro said.

Ender paused. "Didn't learn from them. "They had just entered the bushes, and the little sunlight through the leaves made their expressions indistinguishable. But he knew what their expressions would tell him. Anger, resentment, contempt – how dare this uncertified stranger question their professional attitude? Here's why:

"You are essentially cultural superiorists. You will do your suspicious behavior to help the poor little pigs, but you don't have the slightest chance to notice what they have to teach you. ”

"Which ones!" Oanda asked. "Like how to murder their greatest benefactor and torture him to death after he saved the lives of dozens of their wives and children?"

"Then why do you tolerate this, and why are you here to help them after they've done it?"

Miro stepped between Oanda and Ender. Protect her, Ender thought, or prevent her from exposing her weaknesses.

"We are professionals. We think there are cultural differences that we can't explain—"

"You think pigs are animals, so you stop killing Lipo and Pippo for them, just as you don't condemn a cabra for gnawing on kapim grass. ”

"Exactly. Miro said.

Ender smiled. "That's why you can't learn anything from them. Because you see them as animals. ”

"We see them as aliens!" said Ouanda, pushing Miro away. Apparently she doesn't like to be protected.

"You treat them like they're not responsible for their actions," Ander said. "Xenos are responsible for what they do. ”

"And what are you going to do?" Oanda quipped. "Go in and bring them to trial?"

"I'll tell you. The pigs know more about me from the dead Rooters than you did when you were with me. ”

"What do you mean by that, are you really the original speaker?" Miró apparently thought was the most ridiculous of fantasies. "And I'm guessing you do have a group of Zerg in the sky, and you're circling Lusitania's ship, so you can bring them down and-"

"What this means," Oanda interrupted, "is that the layman thinks he is better qualified to deal with the pigs than we are. As far as I think it's proof, we shouldn't have agreed to take him-"

At this point, Oanda paused as a pig-clan emerged from the grass under the trees. He was smaller than Ender thought. Its body odor, though not entirely disgusting, is certainly heavier than Jane's computer simulations have shown. "It's too late," Ender whispered. "I think we've met. ”

The expression of the pig, if he had, was completely incomprehensible to Ender. However, Miro and Oanda can somewhat understand his silent words. He was stunned. Ouanda whispered. By telling Ander that she understands what he doesn't, she's putting him in his position. This is good. Ander knew he was a newbie here. Either way, he hoped that he had freed them a little bit from their habitual, unquestioning way of thinking. Apparently they are doing things according to a well-constructed model. If he wants to get some real help from them, they can't do it without breaking these old patterns and drawing new conclusions.

"Leaf eaters," Miró said.

The leaf-eater didn't take his eyes off Ender. "The deceased speaks of people," he said.

"We brought him here," Oanda said.

The Leaf Eater turned around and disappeared into the bushes.

"What does that mean?" Ander asked. "And he just left?"

"You mean you haven't figured it out yet?" asked Ouanda.

"Like it or not," said Ender, "the pigs want to talk to me and I'll talk to them." I think it would have been better if you helped me figure out what's going on. Or do you not understand it either?"

He watched them fight against their anger. In the end, Miró made a decision that made Ander breathe a sigh of relief. He did not answer in an arrogant tone, but made a statement of fact mildly. "Nope. We didn't figure it out either. We're still playing a guess game with the pigs. They asked us questions, we asked them questions, we tried our best, neither they nor we ever intentionally revealed a single thing. We never even ask them questions that we really want to know the answers to, for fear that they will know too much about us from our questions. ”

Ouanda was unwilling to give in to Miro's decision to cooperate. "We know more than you can know in another twenty years," she said. "If you think you can get through a ten-minute briefing in the forest as much as we know, you're crazy. ”

"I don't need to know as much as you do," Ender said.

"Don't you think so?" asked Oanda.

"Because I've got you with me. Ender said with a smile.

Miró took the remark as a compliment and accepted it. He smiled back.

"Here's what we know, not much. The Leaf Eater probably wasn't happy to see you. There is a disagreement between him and the pig people called humans. When they thought we wouldn't bring you, the Leaf Eater thought he had won. Now his victory is deprived. Maybe we saved a human life. ”

"At the expense of the Leaf Eaters?" Ander asked.

"Who knows? My gut instinct is that the future of humanity is in jeopardy, but not the leaf eaters. Leafeaters want nothing more than to make humanity fail, not to make themselves successful. ”

"But you don't know. ”

"It's the kind of thing we never ask about. Miro smiled again. "Also, you're right. We are so accustomed to this that we often don't even notice that we are not asking questions. ”

Ouanda was furious. "He's right? He didn't even see us working, and all of a sudden he became a critic—"

But Ender wasn't interested in watching their bickering. He strode away in the direction the Leaf Eaters had left, following them if they wished. Then, of course, they followed, leaving the argument for later. As soon as Ender found out that they were following him, he immediately asked them questions again.

"These suspicious acts that you have committed," he said as he walked. "You've introduced new foods to their recipes?"

"We teach them how to eat the Madonagan," Oanda said. Her tone was direct and cold, but at least she spoke to him. She wasn't going to let her anger get in the way of what was clearly going to be an important meeting with the pigs.

"The method of removing the cyanide contained by soaking and then drying in the sun. This is a temporary solution. ”

"The long-term solution is a certain amaranth variant discarded by the mother. Miro said. "She created a class of amaranth that was so adapted to Lusitania that it turned out to be of little use to humans. Too much of the Lusitanian structure of protein, not enough of the earth composition. But that sounds like just the right fit for the pigs. I asked Ella to give me some samples that I had lost, and I didn't let her know the important last name of the matter. ”

Don't lie to yourself about what Ella knows and doesn't know, Ender said silently.

"Lipo gave it to them and taught them how to grow it. And then how to grind it, make flour, make it into dough. (Note: bread now usually refers to bread, but also to unleavened bread.) There is no mention of fermentation here, so it is translated as bread. It was horribly unpalatable, but it gave them a food they could directly control for the first time. Since then they have been chubby and energetic. ”

Oanda's voice was painful. But the first bread was brought to the wives, and they killed their fathers. ”

Andermer walked silently for a few minutes, trying to understand why. No sooner had Lipo saved them from starvation, and the pigs killed him? How is it possible for evolution to form societies that kill the people who contribute the most to their survival? They should do the opposite—they should reward valuable individuals in ways that increase their chances of reproduction. This is what society needs to do to increase their chances of surviving as a group. How could the pigs survive by killing those individuals who contributed the most to their survival?

But there is a precedent for humanity. These kids, Miró and Oanda, are better and smarter in the long run than the rules-making galactic committees because of their suspicious behavior. But if they are caught, they will be taken from their homeland to another world – in the sense that the death penalty has already been pronounced, because all those who knew them will die before they can return – and they will be tried and punished, and possibly imprisoned. Neither their ideas nor their genes will be passed down, and society will be damaged as a result.

But just because humans do it, too, it doesn't make sense of it.

In addition, the arrest and imprisonment of Miro and Oanda can be justified if it happens, if you see humans as a single community and pigs are their enemies, and if you think that any action that helps the pigs survive is a threat to humanity. Then the bill to punish those who promote the culture of the pig tribe is designed not to protect the pig people, but to prevent the development of the pig people. (How do I feel like I'm talking about some kind of "cultural protectionist" in the West...... ）

At this moment, Ender clearly saw that the real purpose of the regulations governing the contact between humans and pigs was not to protect the pigs at all. Their purpose is to guarantee human superiority and hegemony. From this point of view, Miró and Oanda are traitors to the selfish interests of their race because of their suspicious behavior.

"Apostate," he exclaimed.

"What?" said Miro. "What did you say?"

"Apostate. Those who abandon their fellow citizens and see their enemies as their own. ”

"Ah," said Miro.

"We're not," Ouanda said.

"Yes, we are," Miró said.

"I didn't abandon my surname!"

"By Bishop Peregrino's definition, we have long since abandoned our surnames," Miró said.

"But by my definition—" she argued.

"By your definition," said Ender, "pigs are people, too." That's why you're an apostate. ”

"I think you just said we treat pigs like animals!" said Oanda.

"When you don't hold them accountable, when you don't ask them questions directly, when you try to deceive them, you're treating them like animals. ”

"In other words," Miró said, "when we do follow the rules of the committee." ”

"Yes," said Oanda, "yes, that's right, we are apostates. ”

"And you?" said Miro. "Why are you an apostate?"

"Oh, the human race kicked me out a long time ago. That's why I became a speaker of the dead. ”

With that, they arrived at the Pig Clan's clearing.

————————————————————————

Mother wasn't there at dinner, and neither was Miró. That's good for Ella. If one of them were here, Ella would lose her authority, and she would not be able to control the younger children. But at the same time, neither Miró nor his mother took over Ella's role. No one listened to Ella, and no one else wanted to maintain order.

So when they're outside, the home is quieter and easier to manage.

But even now it is impossible to say how well the children behaved. They just resisted Ella less. She had to yell at Greg twice to stop him from poking and kicking Koyula from under the table. Today, both Kim and Orjado are still closing themselves. There is no usual bickering.

Until the end of dinner.

Kim leaned back in his chair and smiled maliciously at Orjado.

"Then you're the one who taught the spy how to access his mother's files. ”

Orjado turned to Ella.

"You've made Kim's face open again, Ella. You have to learn to sew tighter. This is Orjardo's expression, asking for Ella's intervention with humor.

Kim didn't want Orhado to get help. "Ella isn't on your side this time, Olhado. No one is on your side. You helped that sneaky spy access your mother's files, which makes you as guilty as he is. He is a servant of the devil, and so are you. ”

Ella saw the anger in Orjardo's body, and for a moment she remembered the scene of Orjardo throwing his plate at Kim. But the moment passed. Orjado calmed himself down.

"I'm sorry," Orjardo said. "I didn't mean to do that. ”

He's throwing in the towel from Kim. He's admitting that Kim is right.

"I hope," said Ella, "that you mean you're sorry that you didn't mean to do it." I hope you're not apologizing for helping the deceased. ”

Of course, he was apologizing for helping the deceased. Kim said.

"Because," said Ella, "we should all do what we can to help the speaker." ”

Kim jumped to his feet, possessed over the table and yelled at her face. "How can you say that!He's violating his mother's **, he's probing her secrets, he's-"

To Ella's surprise, she found herself jumping up too, shoving him back across the table and yelling at him louder. "Mother's secret is where half of the poison in this house is! It's Mother's secret that makes us all sick, including herself! So the only way to get things on track here is probably to steal all her secrets and take them out in broad daylight, so we can kill them there!" she stopped shouting. Kim and Orjardo were standing in front of her, leaning against the wall as if her words were bullets, and they were being executed. Calmly, eagerly, Ella continued. "In my opinion, the words of the deceased are our only chance to become a family again. And his mother's secret was the only obstacle in front of him. So today I told him everything I knew about the contents of my mother's documents, because I wanted to give him all the fragments of truth I could find. ”

"Then you're the worst of all traitors," Kim said. His voice trembled. He was about to cry.

"As I said, helping the deceased speak up is an act of loyalty," Ella replied.

"There is only one real betrayal, and that is to obey her mother, because what she wants, what she has been fighting for all her life, is her self-destruction and the destruction of this family. ”

To Ella's surprise, it wasn't Kim who started crying, but Orhado. His lacrimal glands were out of function, so, of course, they were removed when his eyes were fitted. So there was no sign of wetness in his eyes to signal that he would start crying. Instead, he sobbed and bent up, then slid down the wall to the floor and sat with his head between his knees, sobbing incessantly. Ella knows why. This was because she told him that he was not unfaithful to the love of the speaker (I feel so embarrassed), that he was innocent, and that he believed her when he heard her tell her so, and he knew it was true.

At this time, she looked up from Orhado and saw her mother standing in the doorway. Ella felt a weakness in herself, trembling at the thought that her mother had overheard those words.

But the mother didn't seem angry. Just a little sad and tired. She was looking at Orjado.

Kim's fury finally brought his voice back. "Did you hear what Ella just said?" he asked.

"Yes," said the mother, not taking her eyes off Orjado. "And in my opinion, she might be right. ”

Ella was no less surprised than Kim.

"Go back to your room, children," said the mother calmly. "I need to talk to Oljado. ”

Ella beckoned to Greg and Koyula, who slipped out of their chairs and hurried to Ella's side, their eyes wide in awe of the unusual development. After all, even his father never made Orjado cry.

She led them out of the kitchen and back to their bedroom. She heard Kim walk down the hall into his own room, slam the door, and throw himself on his bed. And in the kitchen Orjado's sobs gradually subsided, quiet, and stopped, and the mother, for the first time since he had lost his eyes, comforted him by her arms, and she shook him back and forth as her own silent tears dripped down his hair.

————————————————————————————————

Miró didn't know what the deceased man was made of. Somehow he had always thought that a man of speech would resemble a priest—or rather, a priest should be what he should be. Be thoughtful, stay away from the mundane, and be careful to leave your decisions and actions to others. Miro had thought he would be smart.

He didn't expect him to be so reckless, so dangerous. Yes, he's very smart, yes, he's constantly seeing through excuses, he's saying or doing shocking things, but when you think about them, they're completely true. It's as if he is so familiar with the human mind that he can see the hidden hopes and hidden truths in your face, and even you don't know that you have these things in your heart.

How many times have Miro and Oanda stood together like now, watching Lipo deal with the pigs. But with Lipo they knew what he was doing, they knew his skills, they knew his purpose. However, speaking people, his thinking circuit is completely unusual for Miro.

Despite his human form, it made Miro wonder if Ender was a stranger—he might be as incomprehensible as the pigs. He may be a different species like them, different from a human but not an animal yet.

What did the speaker notice? What did he see? The bow that the arrow was holding, the jar of pickled Madonagan in it, how much suspicious behavior did he discern, and how much did he think it was done by the natives?

The pig clan spread out the worm queen and the overlord.

"You," said the arrow, "you wrote this book?"

"Yes," said the deceased.

Miro looks at Ouanda. She blinked innocently. Then the speaker is a liar.

Humans interject to speak. "The other two, Miro and Oanda, they think you're a liar. ”

Miroman looked at the speakers, but they did not look at them.

"Of course they think so," he said. "They never thought that what the Root One told you might be true. ”

The speaker's calm words disturbed Miro's mind. Is that true? After all, people who travel between galaxies skip decades, sometimes centuries, on their way from one galaxy to another. Sometimes as much as half a thousand years old. It doesn't take many of these trips to live for 3,000 years. But it was too coincidental to be true, the original deceased said that people had come here. However, the original deceased said that the man was the one who wrote the queen and the overlord, and he should be interested in the first xenomorph after the Zerg. I don't believe it, Miro said to himself, but he has to admit that this may be the possible surname of the truth.

"Why are they so stupid?" the human asked. "Hear the truth, but do not understand?" (Note: Here is a slight variation from Isaiah 6:9)

"They are not stupid," said the speaker. "Human beings are like that: we question all our beliefs, but we get rid of what we really believe in and what we never think to question. It never occurred to them to question the original belief that the deceased had died 3,000 years ago, even though they knew that interstellar travel could prolong lives. ”

"But we told them. ”

"No—you tell them that I wrote this book. ”

"So they should know it's true," the human said. "The root is wise, he is the father, and he never makes mistakes. ”

Miro didn't laugh, though he wanted to. The Speaker thinks how smart he is, but now look at him, all the meaningful questions are stuck and fall through, because of the Pigs' insistence on their totem tree being able to talk to them.

"Ah," said the speaker. "There's a lot we don't understand. There are also many that you don't understand. We should communicate more with each other. ”

The human sat down beside the arrow and shared this glorious place with him. The arrows didn't seem to care. "The dead speak of man," said man, "will you bring the queen to us?"

"I'm not decided," said the speaker.

Miro looked at Onanda again. Is this speaker crazy, implying that he can give something that is impossible to give?

Then he remembered what the speaker had just said, questioning all our beliefs and excluding those we really believed. Miro has always taken for granted what everyone knows - all the Zerg have been killed. But what if a bug queen survived, and what if the deceased said that the man was able to write his book precisely because he could talk to a zerg? This seems very untrue, but not impossible. Miro wasn't sure if the last Zerg had been killed. All he knew was that everyone believed it to be so, and that no one had come up with the slightest evidence to the contrary for three thousand years. But even if this is the case, how can humans know? The simplest explanation is that the pigs have absorbed into their religion the powerful stories of the queen worm and the overlord, and they cannot understand the notion that there are many people who have passed away, and none of them are the author of this book, and that all the Zerg are dead, and no queen will appear. This is the simplest explanation, the most acceptable explanation. Any other explanation would force him to accept that the Rooter's totem tree somehow had the potential to talk to the Pigs.

"What makes you decide?" said the human. "We give gifts to our wives and win their approval, but you are the wisest of all human beings, and we don't have what you need. ”

"You have a lot of things I need," said the speaker of the speaker.

"What? Can't you make a better jar than these? A more well-proportioned arrow? The cloak I wear is made of cabra wool—but your garment is much finer. ”

"I don't need anything like that," said the speaker. "What I needed was a real story. ”

The human leaned forward, his body tense in excitement and anticipation.

(Note: The Portuguese word o is sandwiched here in the original text, which is equivalent to the English the.) The words of the exclamation onomatopoeia are oh...... He said, emphasizing the importance of his words. (Note: Original voicepowww.xstxt.orgportanceofhiswords....... I couldn't find a translation that could convey the original text and read through. Let's translate it like this. "Will you add our story to the queen of worms and the overlord?"

"I don't know your story. "The man who speaks says.

"Ask us, ask us all our questions!"

"How can I tell your story? I only tell the story of the dead. ”

"We are the dead!" shouted the human. Miró had never seen him so excited. "Every day we are being murdered. Humanity is taking over all the worlds. Ships that travel through the black night sky go from planet to planet, occupying all the free spots. Here we are, in our little world, watching the sky take over by humans. Humans have built their stupid walls to keep us out, but that makes no sense. The sky is our wall!" the man jumped up - his legs were strong and he jumped surprisingly high. "Look how this wall threw me back to the ground!"

He ran to the nearest tree and jumped up the trunk, Miró had never seen him climb so high before, he climbed out to a branch, and threw himself up into the air.

He stayed at the highest point of the leap for a moment, an unsettling moment, and then gravity pulled him down to the hard ground. Miro could hear the force of the impact make him exhale sharply. The Speakers immediately rushed towards the Humans, and Miró followed. Humans are not breathing.

"Is he dead?" asked Ouanda behind him.

"No!" a pig cried out in the language of a male surname. "You can't die!

Miro took one look, and to his surprise, it was a leafeater. "You can't die!"

At this moment, the human weakly stretched out a hand and touched the face of the speaker. He took a breath, deeply. Then he said, "You see, speak people, if I can climb over this wall that keeps us from going to the stars, I'm willing to die." ”

In the years that Miro had known the Pig Clan, in all the years before, they hadn't even talked about interstellar travel, not even once. But now Miro realizes that all the questions they've asked are geared towards the goal of discovering the secrets of interstellar flight. The Xenologist never realized this, because they knew—without asking—that the pigs were still far from the level of literacy that could build starships, and that it would be a thousand years before such things were within their reach. But their thirst for metal, for engines, for the knowledge of flying above the ground, is how they try to find the secrets of interstellar flight.

The human slowly stood up and held the hand of the speaker. Miro realized that in all the years he had known the Pigs, no Pigs had ever shook his hand. He felt deep regret. And the sting of jealousy.

Now it was clear that the humans were unharmed, and the other pigs had flocked to the Speakers' Body. They weren't pushing each other, but they wanted to get closer.

"The Root Bearer says that the Queen of Worms knows how to build starships," Arrow said.

"The Root One says that the Queen of Worms will teach us everything," said the Cup, "metal, light a fire with rocks, build a house out of black water, all things." ”

The speaker raised his hand and told them to stop making noise. "Suppose you are all thirsty and see that I have water, you will ask me to give you water. But what if I know my water is poisonous?"

"There's no poison in the spaceship that flies to the stars," the human said.

"There are many pathways to interstellar flight," the Speaker said. "Some are better than others. I will teach you all that I can that will not hurt you. ”

"The queen promised!" said the human.

"I promise too. ”

The human lunged forward, grabbed the speaker by the hair and ears, and dragged him down face to face. Miró had never seen such violence, as if he had always feared that the pigs had made the decision to kill. "If we're xenomorphs," the humans shouted into the faces of the speakers, "then it's our business, not yours!, if we're xenomorphs, you'd better kill us all now, just like you did all your sisters after killing the worms!"

Miró fainted. It's one thing for the pigs to think that this is the author of the book. But how could they come to the unbelievable conclusion that he was somehow responsible for the xenoextinction? Who did they think he was, that monster Ender?

But the deceased speaks of man sitting there, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes closed, as if the human accusation had real power (note: if you don't understand what this means, please go back to the previous chapter).

The human turned to talk to Miro. "What are these liquids?" he whispered. Then he touched the teardrops of the speaker.

"That's how we express pain or sadness or sadness," Miró replied.

The big man suddenly screamed, Miró had never heard such a terrible cry before, like a dying animal.

"It's our way of showing pain," the human whispered.

"Ahh "I've seen this liquid before! I saw this liquid in the eyes of Lipo and Pippo!"

One after the other, and then all of a sudden, all the other pigs made the same cry. Miró felt panicked, awe-inspired, agitated, all mixed together. He didn't know what that meant, but the pigs were showing the emotions they'd been hiding from the aliens for forty-seven years.

"Are they grieving for Daddy?" asked Ouanda in a whisper. Her eyes also shone with excitement, and her hair was tangled in the sweat of fear.

Miró suddenly had a thought, and he immediately said it: "They didn't know until now that Pippo and Lipo were crying before they died. ”

Miro had no idea what thoughts were flashing through Ouanda's mind at this time, all he knew was that she turned around, staggered a few steps, and fell to her knees with her hands on the ground, weeping bitterly.

All in all, the arrival of the Speaker did stir up some changes.

Miro fell to his knees beside the speaker, his head now bowed, his chin pressed against his chest.

"Speak people," Miró said. "How is this possible, you are the first to speak, but you are also Ander?n?opodeser. (Note: Portuguese: This is impossible.) ）”

"She told them more than I expected," he whispered.

"But the man who said the deceased, the man who wrote this book, was the wisest of all the people who lived in the interstellar age of voyages. Ender, on the other hand, was a murderer, he killed an entire species, a beautiful xenomorph, and they could have taught us everything-"

"However, both are human. The speaker whispered.

Humanity would be so close to them, and he recited a couplet from the Overlord: "Sickness and healing are in every heart, death and redemption coexist in every hand." ”

"Mankind," said the speaker, "tell your fellow citizens not to grieve over what they have done unintentionally. ”

"That's horrible," the human said. "That was our greatest gift. ”

"Tell your fellow citizens to be quiet and listen to me. ”

The human shouted a few words, not in the language of the male surname, but in the language of the wife, the language of authority. The pigs fell silent, then sat down and listened to what the people had to say.

"I will do what I can," said the speaker, "but first I must know you, or how shall I tell your story? I must know you, or how shall I know if this drink is poisonous to you?" and the most difficult of all. Humans can love the Zerg as much as they want, because they think that the Zerg are all dead. You're still alive, so they're still afraid of you. ”

Standing in the midst of the pigs, the human gestured to his body as if it were a weak thing. "Afraid of us!"

"They are afraid of the same thing as you. You are afraid to look up and find that the stars are occupied by humans. They are afraid that one day they will reach a world and find that you have already gotten there. ”

"We don't want to get there first," humans say, "and we want to go there too." ”

"Then give me time," said the speaker. "Tell me who you are so I can tell them. ”

"All things," said the human. He looked around at the other pigs. "We'll tell you everything. ”

The Leaf Eater stood up. He spoke in a male surname, but Miró could understand him. "There are some things you don't have the right to say. ”

Humans saluted him in the language of the stars. "What Pippo and Lipo and Anio Oanda and Miro told us is what they don't have the right to say. But they told us (note: in order to keep the text for the surname, here teach and above are translated as "say", "tell"). ”

"Their folly does not have to be ours. "The leaf eater still speaks with a male surname.

"Their wisdom does not have to be used by us. The human retorted.

Then the Leaf Eater said something in the language of the tree, which Miro didn't understand. The human didn't answer, and the leafeater walked away.

As he left, Oanda returned, her eyes red with tears.

Humanity turned back to face the speaker. "What do you want to know?" he asked. "We'll tell you, we'll show you, to the best we can. ”

The Speaker turned to look at Miro and Oanda. "What should I ask them? I know too little to know what we need to know. ”

Miro looked at Ouanda.

"You don't have stone or metal tools," she said. "But your house is made of wood, and so are your bows and arrows. ”

Humans stand there waiting. Silence continues. "But what's your problem?" said the human at last.

How could he not have discovered this logical relationship?, Miro thought.

"We human beings," said the speaker, "cut down trees with stone or metal tools, if we want to turn them into houses or arrows or sticks, like the one I see some of you carrying." ”

It took a moment for the words of the speaker to be understood. Then, suddenly, all the pigs jumped. They began to run wildly aimlessly, sometimes crashing into other pigs or trees or log houses. Most of them were silent, but every now and then one of the pig chiefs cried out like they had done a few minutes ago. It's grotesque, this pig-like madness that is barely silent, as if they suddenly lost control of their bodies. After so many years of careful non-communication, avoiding revealing any information to the pig people, and now the speaker has broken this policy, and the result is this madness.

Humanity withdrew from the chaos and fell down before the speaker. "Speak of people!" he cried out loudly. "Promise us that you won't let them cut down my father's roots with their stones and metal tools! If you want to kill anyone, some old brothers are willing to sacrifice themselves, or I will be happy to die, but don't let them kill my father!"

"Or my father!" cried the other pigs. "Or mine!"

"We shouldn't have planted the Root One so close to the wall," said the big man, "if we had known you were—aliens." ”

The speaker raised his hand again. "Has anyone ever cut down a tree in Lusitania? never. The law here prohibits this behavior. You don't have to be afraid of us. ”

The pigs calmed down and fell silent. Finally the humans got up from the ground. "You have made us more afraid of humanity," he said to the speaker, "and I wish you had never come to our forest." ”

Oanda's voice overshadowed his. "How can you say that after you killed my father like that!"

The human looked at her in shock, not knowing what to answer. Miro wrapped his arms around Onanda's shoulders. The deceased spoke, speaking in silence. "You promised me that you would answer all my questions. I ask you now: how did you build the wooden house, the bow and arrows that he carried, and the rods? We have told us the only way we know, and please tell me another way, the way you do it. ”

"The brother gives himself," said the human. "I told you. We tell the old brother about our needs, we draw the shape to him, and then he gives himself. ”

"Can we see how it's done?" Ender said.

Humans look around at the other pigs. "You want us to ask a brother to give himself just so that you can see it? We don't need a new house, not for a few years, and we have enough arrows to need—"

"Show him!"

Miro turned, and the others turned around to see the Leaf Eater coming out of the forest.

He walked straight to the middle of the clearing, he didn't look at them, he spoke as if he were a messenger, an announcer, and didn't care if anyone was listening to him. He spoke in his wife's language, and Miró could only understand half a bit.

"What is he talking about?" asked the speaker in a whisper.

Miró, still kneeling beside him, translated as best he could. "He apparently went to his wife's side, and they said do whatever you say. But it wasn't that simple, he was telling them—I don't understand the words—something about their total death. At least, something to do with the death of my brothers. Look at them - they are not afraid, no one. ”

"I don't know what their fear looks like," the speaker said. "I don't know any about these people. ”

"Me neither," Miro said. "I've left this to you—you've caused more of a stir in half an hour here than I've seen in the years I've been here. ”

"It's something I've been born with," the speaker said. "I want to make a deal with you. I'm not going to tell anyone about your suspicious behavior. And don't tell anyone who I am. ”

"It's easy to do," Miro said. "I don't believe it anyway. ”

The Leaf-Eater's speech is over.

He immediately went to the house and went inside.

"We're going to ask an old brother for a gift," the human said. So the wives confessed. ”

So Miró stood there, with his arm around Oanda, and the Speakers stood on his other side, watching the pigs perform a miracle more convincing than any of the miracles that had given Old Gasto and Sida their titles of Venerable.

The pigs formed a circle around a thick old tree on the edge of the clearing. Then, one by one, all the pigs climbed the tree and began to beat it with a stick. Soon they were all in the trees, singing and playing complex beats.

"Tree language," Ouanda whispered.

After only a few minutes, the tree was noticeably tilted. Immediately, about half of the pigs jumped down and began to push the tree so that it fell into the open ground in the clearing. The rest began to beat harder and sing louder.

One by one, the tree's large branches began to fall off. Immediately, a pig-man rushed out to pick them up and dragged them away from where the tree was about to fall.

The human took one for the speaker, and he carefully took it and showed it to Miro and Oanda. The thicker end, where it was originally connected to the tree, is completely smooth. It's not flat - the surface is slightly undulating along an oblique angle. But there were no scars, no oozing fluid, no signs of even the slightest hint of violence in its separation from the tree. Miro touched it with his fingers, and it was as cold and smooth as marble.

At last the tree became a straight trunk, bare and huge, and the light scars where the branches had once stood glistened in the afternoon sun. The singing reached a ** and then stopped. The tree leaned again, and then began a smooth and graceful fall towards the ground. When it hit the ground, the ground shook, there was a loud bang, and then everything fell silent.

The human walked up to the fallen tree and began to gesture at its surface, singing softly. The bark gradually cracked under his hand, and the crack ran up and down the trunk until the bark was completely split in half.

Then a number of pigs grabbed the bark and peeled it off the trunk, and it split on both sides into two full pieces of bark. The bark was moved to the side.

"Have you ever seen them use bark?" the speaker asked Miró.

Miro shook his head. He was speechless.

Now the arrow steps forward, singing softly. He tugged his fingers up and down on the trunk of the tree, as if to draw the exact length and width of a bow.

Miró watched the lines appear, watching the bare wood fold, crack, and fall apart, until at last only a bow remained, complete, elegant, smooth, lying in a long groove in the wood.

The other pigs walked forward, singing and gesturing shapes on the trunks.

They walked away with clubs, bows and arrows, thin-edged knives, and thousands of wooden ropes for baskets.

Finally, when half of the trunk had been used, they all stepped back and sang in harmony.

The trunk trembled and cracked into six long poles.

The tree was completely exhausted.

The human slowly stepped forward and fell to his knees on the edge of the pole, his hand gently resting on the nearest pole.

He threw his head back and sang a wordless melody that was the saddest voice Miró had ever heard.

The song continued, and continued, only the voice of a human alone, and Miró slowly realized what the other pigs were looking at him, expecting something.

Finally, the big man walked up to him and spoke softly. "Please," he said. "You should sing for this brother, that's it. ”

"I don't know how to sing," said Miro, feeling helpless.

"He gave his life," said the big man, "to answer your questions." ”

to answer our questions and generate a thousand new questions, Miró said silently. But he stepped forward, knelt beside the human, wrapped his fingers around the cold, smooth pole that the human was holding, tilted his head back, and made a sound. At first the song was small and hesitant, unsure of what tune to sing, but soon he understood the meaning of the atonal song, and felt the passing of the tree under his hands, and his voice became loud and firm, mixed with the human voice into a distinctly incongruous song, which mourned the death of the tree, thanked it for its sacrifice, and pledged to use its death for the benefit of the tribe, and for the benefit of his brothers, his wife, and his children, so that everyone could survive and prosper. That's what the song is about, that's what the tree is about, and when the song is finally over, Miró bends down until his forehead touches the wood, and softly recites the eulogy of the deathbed anointing, just as he had whispered five years earlier by the corpse of Lipo on the hillside.