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"Mandachuva is angry, that's something. And he's angry at Pipo, that's another. The third life--a gift that Pipo kept for himself. It will all make sense."
"When?"
"In twenty years. Or twenty minutes. That's what makes xenology so fun."
Ela was touching the trees, too, and looking from time to time at the bushes. "All the same species of tree. And the bushes, too, just alike. And that vine, climbing most of the trees. Have you ever seen any other plant species here in the forest, Ouanda?"
"Not that I noticed. I never looked for that. The vine is called merdona. The macios seem to feed on it, and the piggies eat the macios. The merdona root, we taught the piggies how to make it edible. Before the amaranth. So they're eating lower on the food chain now."
"Look," said Ender.
The piggies were all stopped, their backs to the humans, facing a clearing. In a moment Ender, Ouanda, and Ela caught up with them and looked over them into the moonlit glen. It was quite a large space, and the ground was beaten bare. Several log houses lined the edges of the clearing, but the middle was empty except for a single huge tree, the largest they had seen in the forest.
The trunk seemed to be moving. "It's crawling with macios," said Ouanda.
"Not macios," said Human.
"Three hundred twenty," said Mandachuva.
"Little brothers," said Arrow.
"And little mothers," added Cups.
"And if you harm them," said Leaf-eater, "we will kill you unplanted and knock down your tree."
"We won't harm them," said Ender.
The piggies did not take a single step into the clearing. They waited and waited, until finally there was some movement near the largest of the log houses, almost directly opposite them. It was a piggy. But larger than any of the piggies they had seen before.
"A wife," murmured Mandachuva.
"What's her name?" asked Ender.
The piggies turned to him and stared. "They don't tell us their names," said Leaf-eater.
"If they even have names," added Cups.
Human reached up and drew Ender down to where he could whisper in his ear. "We always call her Sho
uter. But never where a wife can hear."
The female looked at them, and then sang--there was no other way to describe the mellifluous flow of her voice--a sentence or two in Wives' Language.
"It's for you to go," said Mandachuva. "Speaker. You."
"Alone?" asked Ender. "I'd rather bring Ouanda and Ela with me."
Mandachuva spoke loudly in Wives' Language; it sounded like gargling compared to the beauty of the female's voice. Shouter answered, again singing only briefly.
"She says of course they can come," Mandachuva reported. "She says they're females, aren't they? She's not very sophisticated about the differences between humans and little ones."
"One more thing," said Ender. "At least one of you, as an interpreter. Or can she speak Stark?"
Mandachuva relayed Ender's request. The answer was brief, and Mandachuva didn't like it. He refused to translate it. It was Human who explained. "She says that you may have any interpreter you like, as long as it's me."
"Then we'd like to have you as our interpreter," said Ender.
"You must enter the birthing place first," said Human. "You are the invited one."
