Foxfire
Eight people, four couples dressed in happy clothes and as tall as the trees, danced on the ridge.
Their music, though, came to Foxfire through her llevar; the strong, steady beat played softly at
her waist. The caller's voice, a clear tenor, rose above the instruments:
"Gents to the center, make a right-hand star. Turn it around right where you are. Go all the way
around, don't be slow. Dance full around, then home you go."
Following his instructions, the four male dancers in the towering hologram stepped lightly into the
center of their square, reached out at shoulder height, and touched hands.
Squeals pulled Foxfire's eyes down from the ridge. She just had to smile with love: the Bears,
the whole fourth cohort, square-dancing along with the Large Dancers. Getting so big. Yet only
two-thirds the size of Grizzly, still children in their minds.
The boys — Crowtheri, Elemensis, Spelaus, and Wolong — moved carefully through their version of
the star, stocky shoulders and stubby, outstretched arms like spokes in a wheel. Each boy grasped
the wrist of the boy ahead of him and circled to the left.
On the outside of the square, the girls — Ursavus, Etruscus, Arctodus, and Microta — bounced in
place, flipping their skirts back and forth to the beat of the music.
All their protruding eyes opened wider than usual. Their ears, mostly fuzzy shadows, flared and
closed with the duple rhythm. They didn't need an llevar to translate for them; they heard the
transmission directly. Toothy grins split their faces. Lost in the music, lost in the movements.
Still human enough to take this pleasure, despite their extra senses and talents. Wonderful.
Foxfire's gaze returned to the ridge. Against the star-spangled night, the holographic men stepped
back to their waiting partners in a move projected from the central square-dance floor onto six
ridges rising out of the valley. Between the ridges, on the floors of cutouts, ordinary people
danced to the same music and calls and watched the same holograms.
The Bear couples squared their set as well. They did not dance on a paved square, but on a flat
clearing discovered between two unclimbable rises that cut them off from the main paths and the
people gathered there. It didn't seem to matter. The Bears copied the holograms, followed the
music and the calls, and best of all, enjoyed themselves immensely.
"All face your Partners, do a do-sa-do. Go all around your own just so," the caller continued the
pattern. The Bears would be busy for another thousand seconds at least. Time enough for her to
get down the slope and back.
Foxfire strode over to the other escort. "Sorghum," she whispered. "Nature calls."
"Sure," he answered without looking around. He kept his attention on the dancing children, though
his pale hand offered the torch they shared. Foxfire took it, but didn't turn it on. The Bears
didn't need the extra light, and the escorts tried to get along with moonlight only. No point
calling attention to themselves. With the moon called Groves full overhead, and one or more of the
smaller moons usually flitting about, they managed.
One older cohort of Bears or another attended each Large Square Dance, scheduled every eight days
to match Groves' cycle. Two or three Nurses-in-Training from The Tangent escorted them here along
an obscure path, settled them in this wood-lined indentation, fed them a picnic, and played games
with them till the dusk deepened enough for the holograms to show well. Then they danced till it
was time to go home.
Foxfire handed the llevar to Sorghum, in case he wanted to listen in, and headed downslope. Soon,
she started up a rash of rock that kept the Bears secluded from the dance valley. People didn't
like sitting on the jagged and jumbled outcropping, so they stayed away.
Still, someone could wander in.
She paused and looked back. The Bears wove together in another do-sa-do, prancing, laughing.
Do we really need to isolate them so much? A hidden clearing, a private qi-che on the books as a
freighter, just to keep their interaction with the public to a minimum. Complete solitude was not
possible nor desirable. The Tangent just wanted to avoid flaunting their violation of a
Fundamental Pattern, but ...
Foxfire blinked away sudden tears. Wouldn't anyone who saw them love them as we do, for their joy
in life, their earnestness, and their innocence?
Like Meyer? If I can't trust him to understand the Bears and my involvement with them, how can I
trust strangers?
I don't know, she answered herself truthfully and continued her climb.
#
Foxfire looked down on the amphitheater's sprawling dance floor. Squinting against the light, she
saw dozens of couples whirling through patterns.
She had heard that one of Ganj Dareh's concessions to the Large Square Dance allowed a deviation
from the global pattern discouraging light pollution. The holograms didn't present much of a
problem; their coherent images dispersed quickly. But the amphitheater's glow was difficult, and
therefore expensive, to cancel out, so the Collective had adopted a variant pattern.
Why don't Meyer and I come here? It'd be fun to dance, instead of watch, for a change.
Foxfire hurried down through the rocks and burst through the sound barrier, which kept the music on
the dance floor and away from the surrounding neighborhoods. She suddenly yearned to immerse
herself in the beat, to dance in squares with others, to sing along with the band.
But not tonight. Instead, she ducked into a communal toilet, peed, washed, and scooted back out.
Tonight, duty called, with only the briefest breaks for her own needs.
"Didn't your message say you had to work this evening?"
Foxfire's heart jumped at the voice, but the rest of her held still. How could this happen? She
turned her head.
Her Meyer looked back at her. Half-hidden by the low wall edging the food arcade, its canvas roof
slouching above his head, he leaned on his elbows and smiled while his eyes fretted.
Foxfire strolled toward him. Here with friends? She spied the other fellows at a table behind
Meyer. Why didn't I guess he'd come here when I cancelled? 'Cause he's never mentioned
square-dancing the whole time I've known him. Unwind, ndito, unwind.
"This's what the work is, Meyer. Escorting some people to the dance." She found a relatively
smooth part of the wall just out of arm's reach and backed up onto it. When he wrinkled his
forehead and turned on his baffled look, she relented some. Leaning toward him, she added, "Some
people have a tough time getting out on their own. And Nurses-in-Training are the all-time
favorite helpers. Especially when they work for Nurse Poplar." Not fair! Yeah, but it's quick
and easy, like all cliches.
He had to crowd by a table to get closer, but he managed it. "This wasn't going to be just a
regular outing," he said.
Foxfire twisted so she could see his face better. Clear, deep brown, sweet, his eyes devoured her
steadily. Nothing odd there. A slight bunching of the jaw muscle? Maybe.
"There's still time to change your mind about Roshashanah," he said.
"New Year" came the habitual translation. That's all settled ... isn't it?
"Meyer, I've already committed to be out-of-town. You know that. Part of my Nurse training."
He continued staring, puzzlement creeping back over his face. Does he know what that does to me?
Bet on it, ndito.
"Every year, the Cygnus Group Academy deploys Cadets from Continent Glenn to this area for a few
days. Then they bring in Candidates and run them through Entrance Examinations, starting in
Ganj Dareh and ending down in Snowcone." Careful here: nothing but the truth. The truth that, on
a regular basis, strangers come to two direvnya where The Tangent lives. "Our people down in
Snowcone need help during this time. I'm scheduled to go down there." But not the whole truth.
"What's so exciting about that?" The cute wrinkle morphed into an ugly scowl. "Guys in uniforms?
Off-world guys in uniforms?"
"That's not it." I won't be anywhere near those guys in uniforms. I'll be out in the woods with
the Bears so those strangers won't see them.
In a sweep of determination, Meyer cleared his face and drew himself up. He turned to her. Uh
oh.
"A lot can be worked out in twenty-five days, between now and Roshashanah," he said.
"Not this."
"You substituted tonight."
"I don't plan on breaking an ankle."
His eyes shifted to the dark woods on the slope beyond the arcade's colored lights. The hill cut
off all but the tops of the holograms, but the music and calls came through from the dance floor in
the other direction.
Meyer continued: "Roshashanah begins the High Holy Days; they end with Yom Kippur, the Day of
Atonement; during them, we seek to cleanse ourselves, of grievances caused and perceived, of sins
against God and human; we seek to repair and forgive and be forgiven. We have done this for
five-thousand, eight-hundred, seventy-two years."
"What a wonderful practice!" Foxfire exclaimed. What does it have to do with me?
"Any couple who works through atonement together is ready to Join for Life. The rabbis require
that."
Her heart stopped. Images of weddings popped in her mind like fireworks. Hold on, Foxfire. Don't
be hasty.
Now he straightened his shoulders and turned his full attention on her. "I was —"
The lights failed. In the dark under the tent, afterimages danced like ghosts in Foxfire's eyes.
"Vey iz—" Meyer blurted.
Light flooded back, bright colors dangling overhead, white standing high in the background.
"— mir!" Meyer glanced around. "What happened?"
"The lights went out," Foxfire said.
"I know that, but why?"
Who cares? "Meyer," she said. "Meyer, you were about to say something."
"Yes." He focused on her. "Yes, I was." He licked his lips, took a breath. Foxfire held hers.
He said, "I was hoping that we —" he touched her hand with one finger "— that we could celebrate
Roshashanah together this year, to get things started."
Alarms amid delight! Dread collided with excitement, shredding it. Be clear here, ndito.
"Koen Meyer Nathanian, are you asking me to Join you for Life?"
Those deep brown eyes pooled. His wide mouth trembled in a smile. "Yes," he said.
Didn't expect this. Shock echoed through her stomach; she wasn't ready for such a new direction in
Life. Say something! What? Stall. I need time to think.
"What would you have done if we hadn't run into each other here?" she asked.
"You have —" he lowered his gaze "— some messages from me —" he raised it again "— waiting.
It took me four tries before I got to the actual proposal. I didn't want —" his hand wrapped
around hers "— to do it electronically, but —" words rushed out of him "— I didn't want to wait
any longer either. And now —" he grinned "— perhaps it was meant—"
Her free hand flew to his lips before she knew it was moving. "Don't, Meyer. Don't say something
like that. My culture doesn't work well with Fate. The Lord chooses not to ordain nor intervene.
The Lord keeps the Book of Life a secret for good reason. Therefore, we address life with plans
and deliberate action. And this wasn't—"
He captured her other hand. "In your plans. I know. It wasn't in mine either —" he brought
their four hands together "— until recently. And then there wasn't anything but. You see ..."
Her panicky thoughts stampeded over his words. Why didn't I see this coming? Now that he's opened
all his thoughts to me — dear, sweet Meyer! — it seems obvious. That's
the point. The elders teach us to sympathize, to feel another's feelings, walk in his shoes. He's
a man, he's a Jew, he works proto-tek; how can I sympathize? Then, they say, I should empathize,
imagine his feelings. We're good in bed together; does that count? Is that why he proposed?
Making love together means making a Life together? Not in The Tangent. He's not one of Us. I
just don't know! Then, the elders say, I should treat him as if he were me. Perhaps that was my
mistake, thinking he thinks like I do.
Memories pounded into her mind, adding their own slices of guilt: her impatience with Possum
waddling into the exam room; her fear of those strangers at Ammaerln Rowhouse; even her doting on
the Bears square-dancing in the clearing. She added them to bewildered Meyer standing here in
front of her. Failure carved its too-familiar hollow in her midriff. No sympathy, no empathy, not
even projection of my own self, just judgments, snap emotional rulings about who they are and what
they deserve. So wrong.
Her heart convulsed with the collision of conscience and feelings, between how she was supposed to
behave and her real zhuhndí behavior. I've been so wrong ... with all of them.
"Foxfire!" Meyer's shout broke into her reverie.
"Yes?"
His eyes glowed. "Plans can change, can't they? The universe has been known to intrude on even
the best-laid plans, as people have said for centuries. Surely, your culture allows for that. I
mean, there're all the rest of us out here and we're bound to run into each other once in a while.
Would ..."
Her qualms eclipsed spoken words one more time. So what do I do now? Tell him I don't feel the
same way he does? Tell him I'm not ready for marriage? Tell him I've got other things I want to
do, like nursing, some of which I can't even tell him about. Like the Bears. Like devoting my
life to the Bears. Deliberate action, ironic results. She would kiss him good-bye forever.
No more Meyer? Her abused heart twisted again, along a different axis. I couldn't stand that!
"Foxfire!" This time, Meyer sounded worried and frustrated. "Are you afraid because of
your brothers? Because they tease you unmercifully, make you suffer because you're a girl? Are
you afraid of committing yourself to any male because of those schlemiels? Or is it just me? Are
all men in The Tangent so blind to your wit, industry, and intelligence? Or do they hate you
because of them?"
"No!" How can I answer a jumble like that? With simple truths. How he must be suffering! "No,
men in The Tangent do not revile women. On the contrary, The Lord made us equal, but separate to
help us understand just one of Life's Dualities, but he made us capable of union in body and spirit
so that we could experience one of Life's Singularities." She stroked his palm. "I've come to
understand that so much better with you, Meyer."
A sigh rattled up through her throat. "Explaining why Painter and Hound treat me the way they do
... the Teaching Elders fail. Even Mother and Father cannot do that. Perhaps because I was born
so late in their lives." She shook her head to express her chronic pain and confusion. Why do
they hate me so? "We just don't know."
"Then it's me?" He yelped like a whipped puppy.
What do I do? Buy more time!
"Meyer!" Foxfire focused on his tormented face. "Come here!"
He hesitated, then edged forward. She, already stretched out along the wall, snared his shirtfront
with a hand and hauled him closer, close enough that her lips could find his. She made the kiss
brief but fiery, caressed his firm, eager lips with hers, teased his tongue with just the tip of
hers.
"I'll think about it," Foxfire promised and dragged her gaze off his furrowed brow and troubled
eyes.
Where does that leave him?
With hope, she answered herself and fled, aching with doubt, sorrow, and guilt, back to her
duties.
