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"Look at them squirming on the trees, just like little macios. They and the macios must have been competitors." Ela pointed toward a part of the tree unstained by amaranth mash. "The tree leaks sap. Here in the cracks. Back before the Descolada there must have been insects that fed on the sap, and the macios and the infant piggies competed to eat them. That's why the piggies were able to mingle their genetic molecules with these trees. Not only did the infants live here, the adults constantly had to climb the trees to keep the macios away. Even when there were plenty of other food sources, they were still tied to these trees throughout their life cycles. Long before they ever became trees."
"We're studying piggy society," said Ouanda impatiently. "Not the distant evolutionary past."
"I'm conducting delicate negotiations," said Ender. "So please be quiet and learn what you can without conducting a seminar."
The singing reached a climax; a crack appeared in the side of the tree.
"They're not going to knock down this tree for us, are they?" asked Ouanda, horrified.
"She is asking the tree to open her heart," Human touched his forehead. "This is the mothertree, and it is the only one in all our forest. No harm may come to this tree, or all our children will come from other trees, and our fathers all will die."
All the other wives' voices joined Shouter's now, and soon a hole gaped wide in the trunk of the mothertree. Immediately Ender moved to stand directly in front of the hole. It was too dark inside for him to see.
Ela took her nightstick from her belt and held it out to him. Ouanda's hand flew out and seized Ela's wrist. "A machine!" she said. "You can't bring that here."
Ender gently took the nightstick out of Ela's hand. "The fence is off," said Ender, "and we all can engage in Questionable Activities now." He pointed the barrel of the nightstick at the ground and pressed it on, then slid his finger quickly along the barrel to soften the light and spread it. The wives murmured, and Shouter touched Human on the belly.
"I told them you could make little moons at night," he said. "I told them you carried them with you."
"Will it hurt anything if I let this light into the heart of the mothertree?"
Human asked Shouter, and Shouter reached for the nightstick. Then, holding it in trembling hands, she sang softly and tilted it slightly so that a sliver of the light passed through the hole. Almost at once she recoiled and pointed the nightstick the other direction. "The brightness blinds them," Human said.
In Ender's ear, Jane whispered, "The sound of her voice is echoing from the inside of the tree. When the light went in, the echo modulated, causing a high overtone and a shaping of the sound. The tree was answering, using the sound of Shouter's own voice."
"Can you see?" Ender said softly.
"Kneel down and get me close enough, and then move me across the opening." Ender obeyed, letting his head move slowly in front of the hole, giving the jeweled ear a clear angle toward the interior. Jane described what she saw. Ender knelt there for a long time, not moving. Then he turned to the others. "The little mothers," said Ender. "There are little mothers in there, pregnant ones. Not more than four centimeters long. One of them is giving birth."
"You see with your jewel?" asked Ela.
Ouanda knelt beside him, trying to see inside and failing. "Incredible sexual dimorphism. The females come to sexual maturity in their infancy, give birth, and die." She asked Human, "All of these little ones on the outside of the tree, they're all brothers?"
Human repeated the question to Shouter. The wife reached up to a place near the aperture in the trunk and took down one fairly large infant. She sang a few words of explanation. "That one is a young wife," Human translated. "She will join the other wives in caring for the children, when she's old enough."
"Is there only one?" asked Ela.
Ender shuddered and stood up. "That one is sterile, or else they never let her mate. She couldn't possibly have had children."
"Why not?" asked Ouanda.
"There's no birth canal," said Ender. "The babies eat their way out."
Ouanda muttered a prayer.
Ela, however, was more curious than ever. "Fascinating," she said. "But if they're so small, how do they mate?"
"We carry them to the fathers, of course," said Human. "How do you think? The father's can't come here, can they?"
"The fathers," said Ouanda. "That's what they call the most revered trees."
"That's right," said Human. "The fathers are ripe on the bark. They put their dust on the bark, in the sap. We carry the little mother to the father the wives have chosen. She crawls on the bark, and the dust on the sap gets into her belly and fills it up with little ones."
Ouanda wordlessly pointed to the small protuberances on Human's belly.
"Yes," Human said. "These are the carries. The honored brother puts the little mother on one of his carries, and she holds very tight all the way to the father." He touched his belly. "It is the greatest joy we have in our second life. We would carry the little mothers every night if we could."
Shouter sang, long and loud, and the hole in the mothertree began to close again.
