The Participants by Brian Blose

Elza dropped into a
sound sleep once wrapped in the warm blankets formerly used by
Dalana. She didn't wake until midmorning, by which time Hess was
gone.
    She found him peeling a vine on top of his
rock. “What are you doing?”
    “Making rope,” he said.
    “Why?”
    Hess shrugged. “I thought the Creator would
like to know what different kinds of work feel like. I never
imagined there were women Observers, so I learned how to do women's
work after mastering the men's.”
    Elza looked towards where the women had been
held.
    “They're dead,” Hess said. “I saved some
breakfast for you.”
    The bodies were gone. “I won't cook for
you,” she said. “No matter what you said to this tribe, I am not
your woman.”
    “I'm starting to think you don't like me,”
Hess said.
    She picked up the bread and meat resting
beside Hess on the rock. “You are a horrible Observer.”
    “No I'm not.” Hess began weaving the strands
of vine together.
    “You participate!”
    “So do you.”
    “How do I participate?”
    “I saw you talking to the other women
yesterday.”
    Elza glared at him. “It's not the same as
what you do.”
    “It is the same. I just do a little more
of it than you.” Hess met her glare with a curious expression. “Can
you see better or worse with your eyes pointing different
ways?”
    “How am I supposed to know?” She turned away
from him to eat.
    Hess kept his mouth shut until she finished
her meal. “I am serving the Creator in the way I think best,” he
said. “You think my long presence in this tribe is for selfish
reasons, but I hate what these people are. I stay because this is
the best example of what is wrong with the world. The Creator sent
us here to observe for Him. I think He means to use our input to
make a better world.” His next words were almost too soft to hear.
“I hope He does.”
    “You care about them too much,” Elza
said.
    “I'm sure the Creator cares too. He made
them, after all.”
    They watched in silence from on top of the
rock for most of the day. Elza thought the distance weakened their
observations, but at least the contamination caused by Hess was
limited. The tribe was lazy after the previous night's ritual. Men
lounged about, receiving food from their women.
    When Hess cooked bread, the other women
laughed. Elza positioned herself to overhear their conversation.
“Hess traded Dalana for that one. She doesn't even cook for him.
Chase says Hess grows weak. He wants to challenge Kallig.”
    Hess contaminates
everything I observe here, Elza thought.
Still, she couldn't help but be fascinated by the
circumstances. I'll stay until they kill
Kallig. Then I'll leave this tribe.
    The remainder of that day was uneventful.
Hess completed his length of rope and used it to replace a worn one
on his tent. Elza studied the elaborate construction of the
shelter. It had a boxy frame of poles bound together with rope.
Rushes padded the floor. Deer hides draped over the frame, then
tucked under where they met the ground. Inside, heavy rocks held
the hides tight, sealing the tent against drafts. The design was
unique in her experience.
    She slept soundly for a second night, then
followed Hess through the woods while he attempted to hunt. “Chase
is planning to kill Kallig,” she said.
    “Kallig is the father of Chase.”
    “They don't seem to like each other very
much.”
    “That's because Kallig killed the uncle who
raised him. Kallig knows how the tribe works. The same thing he did
when he was young will be done to him.”
    “I have this idea,” Elza said, “that groups
of people are a system. Like how mountains have different kinds of
trees than valleys.” She struggled to find words to explain the
concept. “You know, like how you can predict the moon and the
tides.”
    “What are tides?”
    “If you spent less time in one place, you
would know about the sea.”
    “I know about the sea. It is a large lake,”
Hess said.
    “Bigger than any lake. It has so much