Matthew cast his gaze over the village. It was surrounded on all sides by the ridge they were perched on. The circular depression the village was set in looked like a crater. The village itself was laid out in circles, too. From the high vantage point on the ridge, the village was reminiscent of a target: a broad outer ring of some one hundred squat mud huts giving way to an empty space, and then a smaller circle of huts in the center.
“I don’t like this,” Sam muttered behind Matthew’s shoulder.
Matthew turned to face him.
“Yeah, well, I don’t care what you think,” Matthew said, louder than he intended. “The last time you didn’t like something, you almost got me killed, remember? It’s only because of her that I’m alive.”
Matthew looked toward Kiva, who was moving down the hill into the village and talking in whispers with the other two girls.
“But we’re unarmed,” Sam said. “We can’t defend ourselves. They could kill us.”
“They could have killed us already,” Dunne said. “But they didn’t.”
“She’s right,” Matthew said. “We’ll be fine. As long as you don’t act like an asshole and do something stupid again.”
Sam’s eyes burned, but he didn’t have a retort.
“What were the two of you talking about?” Dunne asked. “You and—what’s her name?”
“Kiva,” Matthew said. “She was telling me about how their society works. They’re called the Vagri. The village is led by the women—the Sisters, Kiva called them.”
“Interesting,” Dunne said. “A matriarchal society. It explains some things. I’d wondered why these men would be obeying the commands of a girl.”
“She’s not just any girl,” Matthew said. “She’s the leader of the village. They call her the Vagra.”
“So, a council of women leading the village. And a young girl as, what? Some kind of spiritual leader?”
Matthew nodded. “That’s right. She talked about someone called the Ancestors. I think the Ancestors are their gods. Kiva said the Ancestors show her things, that they help her read other people’s thoughts. She said they’re the ones who made it so we can understand each other. And that they healed me.”
Dunne made a noise in her throat. “Telepathy, supernatural healing rituals. I’d call it baseless superstition, except I saw her heal you with her blood. That much seems undeniable.”
“And Kiva and I can communicate with each other,” Matthew added.
Dunne nodded. “Yes.”
Matthew looked down the hill. The two girls had gone, and now Kiva stood waiting with her sister, the boy who’d put the arrow in his chest, and the two armed men.
“They’re waiting,” Matthew said. “Sam, if you’re so scared, you can head back to the ship. I’m going into the village.”
He walked down the hill. Dunne came after him, and after a moment, so did Sam.
“Welcome to our village,” Kiva said. “I know we’ve gotten off to a bad start.”
Matthew suppressed a chuckle. Sam had shot at two kids, and Matthew had nearly been killed by an arrow. Bad start was putting it mildly.
“But that’s behind us now,” Kiva said. “Now you’ll learn about us. We’ll learn about you. That way, our people can grow to respect one another, and we can live in peace.”
Matthew nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Good. That’s exactly what we want. We didn’t come here to fight. We came here to learn.”
Kiva’s eyes glanced over Matthew’s shoulder, and he turned to follow her gaze. She was looking at the bioscanner in Dunne’s hand.
“That … that thing,” Kiva said.
“A bioscanner. It’s a …” Matthew stopped. How to explain? “It’s technology—a machine that allows us to look inside the body and see how it works.”
“You want to use it to look inside our bodies?” Kiva said.
“That’s the idea.”
“And you’re sure it won’t hurt us?”
“I’m positive. You can trust me.”
Kiva took a step closer. “I’d better be the first one. To show my people there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Matthew looked around. “But there’s still no one here.”
“Oh, they’re here,” Kiva said. “They’re hiding in their huts, but they’re here. And they’re watching.”
Matthew explained to Dunne what Kiva wanted to do. Dunne went to Kiva and held the bioscanner up to her body. The men with spears moved closer, but Kiva waved them back.
“It’s fine,” she said. Then she spoke louder, nearly at a shout: “There’s nothing to be afraid of! The Strangers are merely here to learn! Please, come out of your huts!”
She glanced at Dunne and nodded. Dunne pressed a button on the bioscanner, and a horizontal line of light shot out from the end of it and scanned Kiva from head to toe. Dunne looked at the display, gave Kiva a look that wordlessly communicated thanks, and then stepped back.
Then they looked at the huts and waited. Soon, a man appeared in one of the doorways and walked slowly into the day. As soon as he’d left the hut, two children scampered out behind him, ran to a distance of some twenty paces away, and then stared at Matthew, Dunne, and Sam with their fingers hooked on their lower lips. Matthew looked at Dunne and smiled.
It was working.
Soon another man appeared, a baby slung on his hip; and another, an old man, walking with a cane.
Dunne walked toward them with her bioscanner and got to work.
Dunne scanned one Vagri person after another, gathering data about their biology.
“They’re anatomically similar to us,” Dunne told Matthew. “A few small differences, but their bodies and organs seem to work in the same way as ours.”
After she scanned them, Dunne asked questions, Matthew and Kiva translating. They quickly discovered the basic facts about life in the Vagri village.
The outer huts were where the men and children lived. The outer village also had huts for bathing, for storing food, and multiple wells to supply the villagers with water. The men raised crops for the village in small gardens outside each of their huts, containing a few species of greens, a pungent onion-like plant, and a sugary tuber that reminded Matthew of sweet potatoes. The men also took care of the children, and one of the men—the one who’d come out with a baby on his hip—showed them how to squeeze sweet milk from the tuber into an infant’s mouth.
The only thing the men didn’t do, it seemed, was lead—that was a role for the women.
“Where do the Sisters live?” Matthew asked Kiva.
“In the center of the village,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
They began a slow trek to the middle of the village, winding their way between the huts. Kiva and Matthew led the way. Matthew glanced back to look at Dunne and Sam, at the armed men flanking them. He had someone guarding him, too—the same boy who’d put the arrow in his chest. He didn’t mind the escort—he understood why Kiva would want her people to see that she was protecting them—but he was getting more and more nervous about Sam. Sam’s agitation hadn’t decreased at all since they’d come into the village; if anything, he was looking jumpier and more afraid than ever. If Sam tried anything—made a grab for his gun or for the man’s spear—they’d all be dead in a matter of moments.
“You’re anxious,” Kiva said. “About that boy. Sam. You’re afraid he might do something foolish.”
Matthew gave her a sideways glance. “You forget—I can read your mind.”
“Of course,” Matthew said.
He’d have to be more careful around Kiva—it was impossible to hide anything from her.
They strolled for a few moments in silence.
“How old are you?” Matthew asked.
“Seventeen seasons.”
“Seasons. How long is that?”
“A season is three hundred and eighty days,” Kiva said.
“That’s not too different from our year,” Matthew said. “That’s how we measure time where I come from.”
“And how old are you?” Kiva asked. “How many years?”
“Six—no, seventeen,” Matthew said, correcting himself. He grimaced as he remembered that he’d turned a year older the moment he came out of the freeze. It was his birthday. “We’re the same age, basically. You’re so young to be leading this entire village.”
“Am I?” Kiva asked. “I could say the same about you. Aren’t you a little young to be flying through the stars to different worlds?”
Matthew sniffed a laugh. “I suppose I am.”
“Anyway, my age doesn’t matter. The Ancestors choose our leaders. They are the ones who chose me to be the Vagra.”
“Is that what I should call you? Vagra?”
“No,” she said. “You don’t have to call me Vagra. That’s what my people call me. But you can keep calling me Kiva.”
Kiva looked at him and smiled. Matthew felt a warmth spread through his chest. She was beautiful when she smiled. She was always beautiful, actually—but when she smiled, the skin at the corners of her eyes crinkled and her eyes seemed to sparkle. Matthew realized, suddenly, that she could probably sense him thinking these things—and for a moment the thought of her beauty shriveled inside him, shrunk to the back of his mind.
But no. He didn’t care if she could hear his thoughts. Let her hear. She should know that she was beautiful.
“Good,” Matthew said, and returned her smile. “It’s a pretty name. Kiva.”
Kiva dropped her gaze, showing Matthew her profile. Her fingers trembling, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. Her smile grew wider.
A thrill surged through Matthew’s body.