Imago (Xenogenesis, #3)

by Octavia E. Butler

The word “ooloi” could not be translated directly into English because its meaning was as complex as Nikanj’s scent. “Treasured stranger.” “Bridge.” “Life trader.” “Weaver.” “Magnet.”

“If I can change my shape …” I focused narrowly on Nikanj. “Could I become male?” Nikanj hesitated. “Do you still want to be male?” Had I ever wanted to be male? I had just assumed I was male, and would have no choice in the matter.

“You want to be what you are. That’s healthy and right for you. What we do about it is our decision, our responsibility. Not yours.”

“There’s more to healing than just closing wounds.”

Helpless lust and unreasoning anxiety were just part of growing up.

“What about me?” it repeated. “I can’t plan anything. It’s hard for me to believe from one day to the next that I’m even going to survive.”