by Eric Flint
Again, as earlier in the day, the Terran exhibited that curious head dip which signified assent.
"And, if you force me to punish you for a serious infraction of regulations, you thereby deprive the Jao of your talents? Perhaps permanently."
Head dip.
Something tickled the back of Aille's mind, something that would not step forward and make itself known. Was the species perhaps prone to acts of self-extermination? What explained this bizarre stubbornness?
He came to a sudden decision. An odd one, perhaps, but it was an odd situation.
"Therefore, I shall not let you force me into unstudied action," Aille said. "You are attached to my personal service as of now."
Yaut glanced at him with alarm in the cant of his ears.
The Terran's head whipped around. If Aille was interpreting his expression correctly, he was confused and puzzled—as well as afraid, of course.
"My fraghta will accompany you back to your quarters to collect your gear. Then you will return with him and await further instruction. His name is Yaut krinnu Jithra vau Pluthrak, but, of course, you will only address him by name with his permission—which will not come quickly or easily, if at all. He is a stringent trainer, you will find."
"I don't understand!" the man blurted.
Aille could see in Yaut's eyes that the fraghta did not understand either. Actually, Aille himself did not fully grasp the implications of this action. But he sensed that something important was at stake here, something which would forever elude him, if he merely had this Terran punished without further investigation. And what better way to understand the species than to take one into his personal service?
He would study Gabe Tully and see if the idea lurking just below the conscious level of thought would surface and make itself known. Gambling . . . the Jao courier ship . . . Terran deaths . . . Jao insults . . . unwarranted risk taking . . .
It all hinted at something potentially useful if he could just pull it together. He would keep this Terran at his side until he knew what it was.
* * *
Tully wound up bunking on the carpet. The Jao's quarters were well appointed and he could have used the couch in the corner, but the crusty one called Yaut didn't offer its use and he wasn't about to ask.
First, he wasn't about to ask because he was completely confused by the situation and a little amazed that he was still alive. Mainly, though—speaking plainly and simply—because Yaut scared him. He wasn't big, as Jao went, and Tully was pretty sure he was fairly old. But the way he moved was frightening, with its little hints of controlled savagery. And while Tully didn't really understand all that the Jao word "fraghta" implied, he knew a little.
Only the most prestigious Jao had fraghtas. They seemed to be a weird combination of advisers, protocol experts—and killers. Rob Wiley had once told him that a fraghta was something like a medieval-style Japanese shogun's chief samurai. Tully didn't know much history, beyond American, but he had watched some old Toshirô Mifune movies. And that was what Yaut make him think of. Yojimbo—on a bad day, in a really grumpy mood.
Zzzzzt. Plop goes the head.
So, he stretched out on the floor, keeping very still, while Yaut fed information into a datacom. Finally, the fraghta rose, gave him a disapproving look, and disappeared into the next room. His arms behind his head, Tully stared up at the ceiling, which was dimly visible in reflected starlight from the single small window.
The newly arrived Subcommandant must suspect his connections to the Resistance. That was the only thing that could explain his strange behavior. Twice today, this Jao had passed up opportunities to have Tully punished—or possibly executed, the second time. Going into restricted areas was a lot more serious offense than gambling.
That made no sense. Jao didn't give humans a second chance when they broke rules, in Tully's experience. The Subcommandant must have a reason for doing otherwise. Tully had to get off the base before the Jao went to work on him for names and specifics.
But even leaving Yaut aside, that formidable looking front door was sealed with a field and the telltale red light gleaming beside the sill indicated the presence of an alarm. Tully might be able to pick the lock, given enough time, but he had no way of circumventing the alarm with nothing more than the current contents of his pockets. He would have to wait until tomorrow, then find an opportunity to make tracks.
In the meantime . . . He listened to the sounds coming from the other room. The door stood open, but he heard only the faintest breathing. Though Jao did not sleep the way humans did, they did experience a sort of dormancy phase, though he'd never seen one in that state himself. The Resistance knew very little about the species beyond what battlefield autopsies had revealed. They were stronger than humans, and showed signs of being evolved from water-adapted ancestors. Their bones were denser, their reflexes a bit slower than that of humans. But even though they weren't quite as fast, once they got started, hand to hand combat with a Jao was like trying to fight a gorilla.
But all that was external. What lay between those large and twitching ears was what mattered. How did they think? What motivated their decisions beyond the obvious desire for resources and power? What was reasonable to a Jao? And, most important, what would convince them that humans were too much trouble and they should abandon the effort to hold this world? Terrans had spent twenty years trying to learn those basic facts about their conquerors and had so far failed miserably.
Tully decided that Yaut must be in dormancy. He eased up off the floor and padded quietly over to the sleek datacom embedded in the wall. Colors flowed across its screen like currents in a river. Yaut had left it on, or perhaps they weren't designed to be turned off. Information lay locked behind those colors, if he could figure them out, but Jao never allowed jinau like him access to this technology. He had about as much chance to hack his way in as a monkey would setting up a homepage on the Internet.
Tully lay back down and closed his eyes, weighing his options. His very limited and bad options. On the one hand, he was tempted to remain where he was, in the hope that he might be able to gather more information. On the other hand . . .
No. The risk was too great that the Subcommandant would start torturing him to get information on the Resistance. Or . . . use some method to do so. There were actually no reliable reports of Jao using torture. The creatures were terrifyingly savage in the way they dealt out instant death, but they didn't seem to linger on it. Still, Tully resolved to escape, the first time he got a chance.
Chapter 5
The creature was still dormant when Aille rose the next morning. He studied the supine body sprawled across the middle of the floor, head lolling so that it looked dead. His own head was abuzz with new words and syntax and grammatical structures from the language imprinting program he and Yaut now underwent every dormancy period. Half of what he'd absorbed this time skittered through his brain like dry leaves blown in the wind. Much made no sense at all, and the remainder was often puzzling. Still, being familiar with at least one of the planet's languages could only make him more effective on this assignment. A small amount of disorientation was acceptable.
Dawn came in shades of intense red here, the rising sun a great crimson orb low on the horizon, the clouds orange streaks. Aille stepped over Tully, wondering that the normally competent Yaut hadn't provided it a proper nest, and then neutralized the alarm and keyed the doorfield off. Warm humid air rushed against his face and he inhaled the welcoming tang of the ocean.
There were predators in these waters, he remembered from his briefings, but none as large as the ones on his birthworld. The ones here were said to be rare. No real danger even to humans, as inept as they were in water compared to Jao. Aille trotted off toward the shore, leaving Yaut to watch over his new acquisition.
The water had slightly less viscosity than the sea on Marit An, but it was cool and the waves rolled over him with pleasant familiarity. He ducked and swam until he had worked the kinks out of his muscles, then walked back, w
hen the sun had climbed a bit higher, his nap sleek and wet.
He found Yaut standing over the human just outside their new quarters, the fraghta's hands clenched, ears quivering in obvious fury. "It attempted to get away!" he said in Jao. His whiskers were bristling.
" 'He,' " Aille corrected. "It admitted to being male last night."
"It will not be male or female or anything else, if it attempts to run again," Yaut said, "because I will grind its bones to powder!"
The human sat on the concrete, arms resting on bent knees, green eyes staring straight ahead as though Aille and Yaut were not even present. Although it had manifested a rudimentary command of Jao last night, it didn't even twitch at the death threat. A large purple blotch now discolored its face on one side and Aille found himself very curious. He shook the rest of the water out of his nap, then walked inside. "Bring it—him," he said without looking back.
A blink later, the human landed with a thump in the middle of the room, and Aille bit back a sigh. His new fraghta was very short of patience when something outraged him. He would have to remember that.
"Attempting to escape from service!" Yaut keyed the doorfield on, then stalked about the room, eyes blazing with green fury. On the floor, the human pulled itself together and resumed its previous position, though its eyes looked a bit dazed. "I would have put it down already and saved you the trouble, but it is technically a member of your service, which requires your permission."
Aille turned and gazed at Yaut impassively, then picked up a brush and worked on his damp nap. "Perhaps he is just badly trained. Surely you could do better."
Yaut's ears swiveled warily. "You wish it trained, rather than put down?"
"He wished to escape," he said and put aside the brush. He studied the human from the corner of his eye. "Does that not suggest he has something to hide? I find my desire to know what weighs larger than violations of custom or practical concerns. Remember that the dead always keep their secrets."
"Then I will, of course, train it, if that is your wish." Yaut's neck was stiff with disapproval.
"And check on its background," Aille said. "I wish to know where it came from and what contacts it has."
Yaut picked up his comboard. "I will put a search of the records in motion. In the meantime, I advise you to have it housed elsewhere. It is not fit to share quarters with civilized beings. Trying to escape from service!"
The human glanced up at the fraghta surreptitiously, then looked away again. Aille reached for his weapons harness, where Yaut had left it waiting, and shook it out. At his feet, the human flinched at the unexpected snap.
Aille dressed while considering Yaut's advice. "No," he said finally. "Bind it, if necessary for our safety, but keep it close at hand. These apparently puny creatures held off our forces for longer than any sentients we've ever encountered. It was not simply a matter of their enormous population, nor even of their sophisticated technology. I want to know how they did that, and I think this one might be able to give me the answers. Some of them, at least."
Yaut glared at the human.
"And work on your Terran," Aille added, donning the rest of his uniform. "To speak another species' language is to have an insight into their psychology. I will strive to improve my command of Terran as well."
The human looked up, with that almost Jao-like direct gaze that had struck Aille the first time he met him.
"It's called 'English.' "
* * *
Aille directed Yaut to offer the human a tray of food from the dispenser, but the creature waved it away. Either it wasn't hungry, or Jao food did not appeal to his new acquisition. Aille decided he would worry about the logistics of feeding it later.
For now, he was due at the refurbishing facility. He passed up nourishment himself and let his fraghta finish dressing him, taking care with the cloth trousers, the ribbons, the drape of his ceremonial halfcape off his windward shoulder. Firsts were important, as Yaut had noted yesterday. Between them, they would do Pluthrak proud.
A vehicle arrived. It was similar to the one from the day before, a human device refitted with Jao maglev technology. The human jumped out and knocked at the open door, even though Yaut was waiting beside it.
He then raised his hand to his forehead in that sharp, practiced motion which was becoming very familiar. "PFC Andrew Danvers reporting as ordered, sir."
"And-rew Danv-ers." Aille had trouble stringing the human syllables together. The skill would require additional practice. "Do you speak Jao?"
The human soldier hesitated, then answered in English. "A bit, sir, if you do not mind hearing it mangled."
Tully rose and came to the door. "I can translate a little," he said in Jao, "if need be."
Unlike yesterday, the human's grammatical phrasing was good, and even his accent had improved. All in the space of one night, Aille thought. His suspicion that there was more to this human than was immediately evident was strengthened.
Yaut gave Tully another fierce look and Aille realized it would take little provocation for the fraghta to simply put him down him and secure permission retroactively. Attempting to escape from personal service was a grotesque violation of custom, and, like any fraghta would, Yaut felt it keenly.
"Yes," Aille said in English. "Translate where necessary."
The soldier named Danvers glanced at Tully and his eyes widened. Aille supposed it was in reaction to the dark purple blotch on his face where Yaut had struck him.
Aille gestured Tully into the vehicle, as Yaut followed. The human sat in the front with the driver. Yaut rode in silence next to Aille in the rear, his ears clearly displeased with the situation. Aille could almost read his mind: A fraghta's whole vithrik was bound up in providing advice along with the voice of experience, and, already, Aille was not heeding him.
The wind was warm and Aille heard the tantalizing sound of waves breaking on the shore as they turned inland and drove along the coast. After a short ride, the vehicle pulled up to a cavernous building open almost its entire length on one side. Cylindrical black ships were cradled in immense frameworks within, as humans swarmed over them like worker insects. Sparks flew behind jumbles of cable and Aille could hear the screech of metal being cut.
Danvers and Tully hopped out immediately. Danvers opened the door to the vehicle and rattled off some words in English, which Tully then translated into quite good Jao. "This is the Refit Facility, sir," he said. "Your personal work area is up on the second floor. Danvers wishes to know if you want him to guide you there."
"Not yet. First, I wish to learn what exactly is done here."
There was another quick exchange between Tully and Danvers. "He will find you a different guide, then, sir," said Tully. "He's not familiar with the facility itself."
Before Tully had finished translating, PFC Danvers had already disappeared into the building without waiting for Aille's assent. That was interesting. Aille had read in the reports that humans in hierarchical systems were normally compulsive about getting permission for everything, even once their duties were clear. Apparently, this jinau had been associating with Jao long enough to have absorbed some elements of Jao rationality.
Yaut stood in the open entrance and stared at the long sleek black ships. "Very big," he grunted, "but oddly proportioned. Perhaps they are intended for fast assault or landing ground troops."
"They are submersibles," Tully said, his gaze riveted to the cradles, "meant for undersea travel. 'Submarines,' we call them, or 'subs' for short. These are the finest in the world. Attack subs and boomers that used to belong to the United States Navy."
"Undersea travel?" Yaut's eyes narrowed. "Why expend resources on that?"
"Because three quarters of our world lies under ocean," Tully said.
Submersing must be difficult for this species, Aille realized, so that they needed artificial aids to achieve it for any length of time. He doubted Jao would ever have conceived of such craft. His kind could travel underwater with very little effo
rt and were born craving the stars instead.
Still, he thought there was something slightly evasive about Tully's response. Aille could understand why humans would have developed seagoing vessels to such an extent. But why travel under the water, simply to transport cargo and personnel? The storms on this planet were simply not that severe. There must be some other, or additional reason, for them to have developed a submersible capability.
He broke off the rumination. The Jao supervisor was approaching. She was female, bowlegged and stocky. Her nap was lustrous with health, colored the russet of an exotic far-off kochan like Kaht or Mashdau. Her voice was deep and throaty as her calm black eyes took his measure. "Vaish, Subcommandant. I hope all meets with your approval."
"As do I." He regarded her calmly. Some kochan had done well here. She was bold and forthcoming, alert, a credit to all who'd bred and trained her. "May I have the honor of your name?"
Her eyes crinkled with pleasure. Since Aille's status was vastly greater than hers, he had been perfectly free to dispense with her name, if he so desired. "Nath krinnu Tashnat vau Nimmat. I am one of the supervisors here."
Not a root sept then, but still a related offshoot. Like Yaut's Jithra, very honorable. "I wish to tour the facility," he said, "so I may be more efficient carrying out my duties."
"Yes, Subcommandant." Nath turned and he caught sight of her heartward cheek. No bars of office were incised into the skin, but a shiny patch indicated where one must have been until sometime in the recent past. For some reason, Nath had been demoted.
She headed into the facility, letting Yaut come after her and leaving Aille the place of honor at the back. Aille glanced down at Tully, then followed, trusting the fraghta to restore propriety.
Yaut glanced over his shoulder, then with muffled exclamation, darted back to seize Tully's arm and jerk him ahead of Aille.
"For a jinau, you are very stupid!" the fraghta snarled in Jao. "Show proper respect!"
Yaut's grip was crushing. Jao were much stronger than humans. Had Tully resisted, his arm would have been broken. True, he seemed to smolder resentfully at being manhandled in front of everyone. But he came at once, and kept his gaze straight ahead until Yaut released him. Clearly, although some of his actions would indicate otherwise, he was not stupid. Indeed, he even seemed quick-witted.