by Eric Flint
"Nevertheless," Kinsey said, obviously taken aback, "I am curious." He glanced aside at Caitlin.
"I am not authorized to provide such information." Banle's green-black eyes turned back to the window. One of her shoulders tightened into what Caitlin read as unease. "You will have to seek access at a higher level."
Like the Governor of Earth, Caitlin thought. She did not relish meeting this particular Jao again. Her father, Ben Stockwell, hated working under him and in the end had accepted the role of President only to protect his family and ameliorate the worst aspects of Jao rule. He had, to this date, been able to get them to allocate at least some small portion of resources toward rebuilding war-devastated areas like Illinois, Texas, Louisiana, and Virginia. He'd also argued effectively, so far, against plastering the continent's mountainous and more remote areas with bolides to eliminate the last of the Resistance.
The vehicle turned abruptly, stopped at a massive security gate manned by Jao guards, then was waved through to a tree-lined boulevard full of deep green shadows and lined by a veritable sea of begonias so that red and pink and white filled the eyes. That was a surprise. Jao didn't usually think of flowers, or indeed of any sort of ornamental foliage, at all. They did have an aesthetic sense, but it was bound up closely with either behavior—such as their elaborate body language—or practical arts such as architecture. She wondered who'd decided to authorize the impressive display.
Surrounding human habitations had long since been removed from this area and the green grounds swept to either side as far as she could see. The palace itself lay at the end of the boulevard, all sleek black curves of quantum crystal against the bright sky, with no right angles, unmistakably Jao.
Banle blinked at the unexpected beds of flowers and her body shifted into shocked-disapproval.
Caitlin suppressed a smile and stared over the Jao's shoulder. Waste of resources, was what Banle was thinking, she was quite sure. Waste of labor and space, fulfilling no useful function. Was the Narvo Governor becoming decadent?
The car pulled up before the black palace and a liveried human attendant, who had been waiting back by the wall, hurried forward to open the door. Again, Caitlin found that odd and out of place. Jao considered the human custom of opening doors for others as a gesture of respect to be grotesque. An insult, even.
It was possible, she supposed, that the attendant had been acquired simply for this reception, as a courtesy to the human guests. But Caitlin thought that was unlikely. First, because Governor Oppuk was, to put it mildly, not given to being considerate toward humans. Second, because he certainly wouldn't do so directly—and this attendant was wearing Narvo colors.
Could Oppuk be adapting to human customs himself?
Caitlin emerged from the car, blinking at the torrid sunshine. No pointless flowers here, just black crystal steps and the stark lines of a protective overhang, almost like a portico. Ah, well. She turned as Banle gestured imperiously. Only time would tell, but this visit might well be more interesting than she had anticipated.
* * *
When the invitation had surfaced in Yaut's electronic queue, he'd immediately realized its importance and taken it to Aille. He'd found the young Pluthrak in his office in the refit facility, going over the latest figures.
The younger Jao looked up as Yaut entered. He had been swimming down at the cordoned-off Jao area at the beach earlier and his nap was dark-gold with damp. "Kaul still insists we proceed with the replacement of all kinetic weapons, despite the results of the tests."
"Then you will replace them." Yaut had served too long to entertain any illusions of sense winning out over duty. "If the lasers serve poorly, we will switch them back, and then, if you are fortunate, Oppuk will not hold it against you for being right."
"But it wastes resources!" Aille stalked across the dim room. "As well as time. And, according to reports, time may be what we have the least of!"
"It is your job to accomplish this foolish task quickly and without further protest." Yaut keyed his personal board on and laid it on the desk before Aille. "Then, if it does not work out, your task will be to cover it up as best as possible."
"And the Terran work force will be disgruntled," Aille said. His ears were aslant with foreboding. "The workers will see it as yet another affront to their expertise in these matters, and they do have a point. The tanks will be much less effective for combat in an atmosphere, refitted as Kaul would have them."
"Forget about the refit for now," Yaut said and indicated his board with its message. "We have been summoned to a reception in the population center known as Oklahoma City to be held in your honor by Governor Oppuk krinnu ava Narvo. I had hoped such a meeting between the two of you could be put off, but it seems you have already come to his notice."
Aille's eyes flashed as he realized the implications. Historically, associations between Narvo and Pluthrak had been few, opposition nearly constant. It was not in Narvo's interests for a Pluthrak to do well here, or anywhere else, for that matter.
"Why did he accept my appointment in the first place?" Aille asked. "I still do not understand that. Granted, it would have been rude to refuse, but Narvo has never hesitated to be rude."
"You are young," Yaut said, his body stiff with blunt-truth. "The young often make mistakes because that is the nature of learning. Such mistakes could be employed to cast Pluthrak in a bad light, harming future associations which then might never come to pass."
"So I cannot afford to make any mistakes," Aille said.
"No," Yaut said, "not even those which are sure to be forced upon you."
"Like this pointless refit." Aille sat back in his chair and stared out over the work floor, which was visible through the glass wall beyond.
"I was thinking more of Tully." Yaut exhaled, fighting the exasperation he felt over this matter. Guidance must be firm, he told himself, but ever subtle. "That is one burden I would have counseled you not to take up. However, we could put him down before we leave."
"No, the Terrans are watching what I do now," Aille said. "They know about Tully. Even Aguilera, who disapproves of him, does not want him dead."
Yaut could not help gesturing in stymied-frustration. "Once we leave," he said, "despite the locator, he will find a way to escape. Only my constant vigilance has restrained him this long."
"Then bring him with us."
Yaut circled the desk so he could study the invitation again. "Quarters for five have been set aside, which is an insult, although a sly one. The Governor's staff must know you have already begun to assemble your own service, now that you are in place."
"So, after Tully, we can take along only two more." Aille composed his hands in the classic form of careful-contemplation. "The female bodyguard, I suppose, then?"
"Tamt," Yaut said. "She has progressed to the point that I have granted her right to be named."
"And Aguilera," Aille said, eyes still focused on his hands. "I will add him to my service. He can assist you in keeping an eye on Tully."
"Two Terrans out of four you are to be allowed?" Yaut cocked his head, very dubiously. "Might it not be better to select another Jao?"
"We are on Terra," Aille said. "I have been given charge of all jinau troops. If I do not demonstrate the ability to form associations with the natives, then I will look ineffective."
"True." All the same, Yaut shuddered. "Which makes it all the more important not to be embarrassed by Tully. Let me arrange an unfortunate 'accident.' Perhaps he could drown while accompanying you on a morning swim. Terrans are notoriously poor swimmers, and his fellow natives would deem it noble if he perished while attempting to provide companionship."
Aille's ears flattened. "They would never believe it. Tully has done nothing so far without being forced. He will go with us and he will behave, or we will make him wish he had."
That, Yaut thought, was much easier desired than accomplished, but for now, he held silent.
* * *
When the order came th
rough, Tully had been assigned for the morning to Rafe Aguilera, who therefore had the damned locator control on his belt. Aguilera had stationed him down in the next refit bay, working to remove the engines and tracks from old Bradleys. No one would trust him to install the new maglev drives, of course, but he could hardly damage anything crucial while stripping outmoded equipment.
One bay over, he saw a Jao floor-supervisor stop and hand Aguilera a board to sign off. Aguilera read it, then looked up. Tully sat back on his heels to wipe sweat from his brow, surreptitiously gauging the older man's reaction.
"Goddammit!" Aguilera narrowed his eyes, obviously angry. "Are you sure about this?"
The Jao's ears shifted into an angle that made Tully uneasy. He realized he was becoming all too conversant with Jao body language.
"You question orders?" the Jao said in heavily accented English.
"No," Aguilera said, "but I thought we'd proved our artillery worked better in an atmosphere—" His gaze strayed to the upper floor, where Aille's office was located. "Never mind. I'll check with the Subcommandant, when I get the chance, just to be sure."
"These—orders!" The Jao loomed over Aguilera and the difference in their body masses was all too evident. As always, the human looked fragile in comparison. "You follow—without question!" He cuffed Aguilera, knocking him to the floor.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Tully was on his feet before he'd realized he'd spoken. "He didn't deserve that!"
The Jao turned with all the grace of a bulldozer. He was not angry, Tully realized with a start, reading the lines of his body. The big alien was just confused. The cuffing he'd given Aguilera would not have done more than jar another Jao. It certainly wouldn't have felled them.
Probably new to Terran service, Tully thought. He could almost see the wheels turning inside the Jao's head. Humans were supposed to serve, he'd been told. They did not argue about decisions any more than a refrigerator had an opinion on whether it should be plugged in. After a very short time, Aguilera had grown accustomed to having Aille krinnu ava Pluthrak's ear and had forgotten how few Jao were interested in hearing what humans had to say.
He dropped his gaze. "Forgive him," he said in Jao, as humbly as gritted teeth would allow. "He is tired from working all night and forgets himself. Orders will be followed, of course."
Other men had stopped and were watching, their faces grimy, their hands full of tools that could become weapons on a moment's notice. They bunched together, muttering. Tully pulled Aguilera to his feet. "Tell him!" he whispered forcefully.
"Forgive me," Aguilera said, weaving and unable to focus. "I meant no disrespect."
The Jao sniffed, then strode off. Tully stared after him for a moment, his face tight with anger. "That was stupid," he said finally.
"Yeah." Aguilera passed a hand over his pale face. "Get back to work," he said finally to the watching men. "This isn't doing any good."
"But the tanks—" Ed Patterson began.
"They want them with lasers," Aguilera said, "so they'll get them with lasers. Then, maybe, if these Ekhat do ever show up, they'll kick their fuzzy butts and they'll all have to go somewhere else to have their war."
Tully eyed the locator control box on Aguilera's belt. He should have plucked it off when the other man was half out on his feet. Then he could have been off the base in fifteen minutes.
Aguilera caught his eye. "Want it?"
He flushed and looked away.
"What's it like, back there in Rockies?" Aguilera's voice was low. "Plenty of medical supplies, enough to eat, warm clothes? Can the kids go to good schools? Is there fuel for cars? Munitions for guns?"
There was damned little of any of that, Tully thought, but whose fault was it? Certainly not the Resistance's!
He was not surprised that Aguilera had figured it out. Collaborator or not, the middle-aged ex-soldier was no dummy.
"Just let me go, Rafe," he said in a low voice. "Sooner or later, this Subcommandant and his goddamned fraghta are going to crack me like a nut, and then I'll spill everything." He hooked his thumbs in his belt. "You're human. You can't want that."
"What I want," Aguilera said, "is what's best for humanity. We've lost this battle, but we don't have to lose the war. If you keep your head down and stop making trouble, you might just learn enough to help down the line when things are different." He glanced around the refit floor where most of the workers had resumed the morning's tasks. "Right now, there's no chance of getting rid of the Jao. We have to survive and learn as much as we can."
"You mean collaborate!"
"I mean, as Patton once said, 'no one ever served his country by dying. You serve by making the other dumb bastard die for his country.' The first rule here is to survive and get as much out of the Jao as we can in the process."
Tully glanced over his shoulder, but the Jao guard had wandered to the far end of the row. "Then you think the day will come when we boot the Jao off Earth?"
"I do." Aguilera straightened, then grimaced at a kink in his back. "Maybe not in my lifetime, or yours, but at some point; history has proved that empires always fall. Hell, when you get right down to it, we Americans thought we were on top of the world—and then the Jao came."
"But all those empires, Rome and England and even America, were human," Tully said. "You can't count on the Jao being the same."
"No," Aguilera said, "but it's all we've got left to hope for. Until then, we have to survive."
Chapter 12
"Miss Stockwell," a gravelly Jao voice said as a pair of immense oak doors swung open and Caitlin's party entered the palace.
How strange, she thought, glancing back over her shoulder at the surprising wooden panels. Jao ordinarily preferred doorfields to crude physical barriers such as these.
"I am pleased," the voice continued, "that you and Dr. Kinsey accepted my invitation."
The "invitation," of course, had been a command. She ran fingers back through her short wind-blown hair as an excuse to hide her expression. The entrance hall, constructed of cool gray stone and a ceiling that loomed far overhead, was dim, as Jao quarters so often were, but also unexpectedly primitive. It had actual corners and huge pillars framing the doorway carved in the likeness of ceremonial bau. Like the flowers outside, they were a form of human decoration, adapted to Jao sensibilities. Jao just didn't do that, in her experience.
"Governor Oppuk," she said with a feeling of dread as she waited for her eyes to adjust.
Kinsey stepped forward, a smile on his face. "This is an extraordinary opportunity, being allowed to put together a history of the Jao! I can't thank you enough for giving me permission to do so!"
Oppuk krinnu ava Narvo, the Governor of Terra, was dressed in customary Jao dark-blue trousers with the halfcape draped over one shoulder so many of the conquerors affected. Its insignia, meaningless squiggles to human eyes, had been worked in a bright, fierce scarlet.
"It is perhaps time Terrans knew more of the Jao," he said in accented English. One of his ears swiveled lazily. "They are like ignorant children, understanding nothing of the dangers awaiting them beyond this solar system, dangers which require us, your protectors, to expend great amounts of resources and energy."
"To be sure," Kinsey said, "but my book should remedy that. I'm eager to get started."
Narvo turned to Caitlin. "It has been long since flow brought us together," he said. "Are you now considered emerged?"
Her father had struggled to keep his family sequestered from his job as much as possible, not wanting them to come to the attention of their powerful overlords. This one, in particular.
"Yes," she said, though she had no idea what "emerged" actually meant. Jao were notoriously close-mouthed on the subject of their biology and development.
The Governor was massive, even for a Jao, the velvety nap covering his skin a rich red-gold. His vai camiti was composed of three uneven stripes slanted at forty-five-degree angles across nose and eyes, rather like a zebra. He occupied the middle of
the spacious foyer as though he were an ornamental statue and regarded them in a perfect attitude of amused-disdain.
Caitlin had known Jao as far back as she could remember. There had even been times—thankfully long past—when Banle had remained in her bedroom when she slept. She'd begun learning bodyspeech at the age of four, almost as soon as she'd started to learn English. The Governor apparently wished to appear magnanimous and accepting, coming to meet them personally like this, but his body betrayed his inner thoughts: he was far from respecting humans and their ways.
She glanced at Dr. Kinsey who was radiating pleasure. Without thinking, she curved her arms and let her fingers fall into amused-acceptance. "It was kind of you to invite us," she said, knowing full well no Jao in Oppuk's position would ever wish to appear "kind." The Jao understood kindness, in their own way—they had several terms for it, in fact—but it was closely associated with their complicated clan relations and bound up with their notions of proper relations between individuals of different status. Applied to subject people, the closest equivalent in their language connoted "weak" or "foolish."
It was a stupidly imprudent thing to say, of course, but she was finding it harder than she'd expected to contain her hatred for the creature who had murdered her brother. Her remark was a petty way to strike back, but she felt better for it. And, in any event, she'd spoken in English, where the same insult was not implied.
He blinked at her posture, then shifted into a rather stiff version of standard welcome, apparently startled into an uncustomarily coarse singleness of expression. "My castellan will see you to your quarters," he continued in English. "You should find them adequate."
Dr. Kinsey turned and threw his arms wide. His face beamed. "I am certain we will find them nothing less than splendid!"
The burly Narvo canted his head, his ears hovering on the edge of insult.