by Eric Flint
A Hij representative stepped forward. "Yet that is what concerns me the most. Never in our history has the Bond been affiliated with any kochan. Is it wise to change that?" He glanced, somewhat apologetically, at the Harriers. "The dangers are obvious."
"Obvious, indeed," echoed the Preceptor immediately. "Yet I have studied human history myself, and believe that the subtleties of the human female's proposal are being misunderstood." He turned to Caitlin. "Correct me if I am mistaken, but I believe your proposal is really for the Bond to assume what you would call 'protectorate status' over these new taifs. As opposed to what you would call 'colonial status.' "
She nodded, wide-eyed. Caitlin was obviously even more surprised than Aille at the Preceptor's knowledge of the details of human history.
The Preceptor turned back to address the Naukra. "The distinction, in human custom, is clear. The Bond's status would be temporary, not permanent. Once the kochan was formed—judged so, by the Naukra—the Bond's status would end. There would be no continuing affiliation, which might lead the Bond to become overly strong and develop particular interests unsuited to its function."
The Hij representative's posture slipped into puzzlement. "How can an affiliation not be permanent? I can see that, to be sure, with the human taif, since no bloodline connection is possible. But with the Jao taif being proposed—ah."
In the corner of his eye, Aille saw Yaut struggling not to adopt the same posture Aille was struggling not to adopt. Incredulity-at-blatant-stupidity was a most impolite stance to take at any gathering, much less that of the Naukra.
The Hij, clearly enough, had just realized what was obvious. And the Preceptor, though neither his stance nor his tone indicated anything beyond neutrality, put it into words.
"The Bond is not a kochan. We do not breed. Therefore the normal bloodline ties which would develop between a taif and its kochan are impossible."
His next words were spoken even more decisively than Nikau's.
"Only the Bond can make this decision. We will, of course, consult with kochan representatives." His eyes went quickly from Dau to Nikau and back again. "I will specifically want Pluthrak and Narvo involved in the negotiations."
Nikau began to stiffen, but the Preceptor's gaze upon her was now hard, not neutral. "I understand that Narvo has removed itself from this discussion. But there are other matters which will need to be discussed."
"Such as?" she demanded, half-angrily.
"Let us begin with the fact that this planet has suffered immense damage—and then neglect." Tactfully, he did not name names. "If the Bond is to assume this burden, it will expect the greatest of the kochan to assist in the necessary reconstruction. Our own resources are primarily devoted to the war against the Ekhat."
The same could be said of Narvo's, of course—or Pluthrak's, or the resources of any of the great kochan. But, with only a moment's hesitation, Nikau indicated her assent. With the barest possible posture, true, but assent nonetheless. She might not like it—did not like it—but she realized she could not evade the matter. Narvo had escaped open humiliation, but they would still pay a price for their neglect in overseeing Oppuk. Still, a price in resources could be paid, easily enough, by a kochan as great as Narvo, since there was no insult implied to the kochan's honor.
Dau krinnu vau Pluthrak had already assumed the posture of agreement-assent. The Preceptor glanced at him, then his eyes moved over the assembled Naukra.
"It is settled, then. Unless there is open opposition, I propose this Naukra has ended."
He waited, politely, to see if any opposition would emerge. None did, of course. With the Bond taking such a firm stance, and with both Narvo and Pluthrak assenting, no kochan would be foolish enough to object.
Besides, Aille thought, for the most part they were all simply relieved. They might think privately that the proposal was preposterous. But it was no longer any of their concern, after all—let the Bond deal with the human maniacs. The matter which had truly concerned them, and caused every Jao kochan and most taifs to send representatives to this Naukra, was now settled.
Narvo and Pluthrak were no longer on the verge of open conflict. Indeed, the first possibility of association seemed even to have emerged. The Human Problem remained, to be sure. But that was the Bond's problem, henceforth. The Terran Crisis was over.
Suddenly, the sense of completed flow was overwhelming. Moving as if with a single will, the Naukra dispersed, each kochan moving toward its own ships.
"That is still purely creepy to me," Aille heard Tully mutter. "How do they do that, anyway?"
But Tully's savage grin was back also. "Not that I wouldn't mind it if humans could learn the trick. After watching Rob Wiley's headaches trying to get a damn Resistance meeting to end. Or start on time."
* * *
Kralik bent low over Caitlin's white face and smoothed a stray golden tendril back. She was lying on a cot, now, back in the tent, after having gotten some medical attention.
He desperately wanted to kiss her but was afraid of hurting her face. The bruise was spreading.
"It's a pain, isn't it?" Caitlin asked softly, chuckling. "Maybe the Jao will finally stop beating on me long enough that we can—you know, Ed. Get laid, dammit."
Kralik smiled. He'd been thinking exactly the same thing. When Caitlin had first proposed to him—okay, suggested that he propose to her—he'd agreed instantly because of his general attraction to the woman. But, once the situation settled into his mind, the more profane aspects of their new relationship had surged to the fore. To his loins, to be precise. Caitlin was gorgeous on top of everything else, even with her arm in a cast and her face bruised.
It had been . . . frustrating, to say the least. And still was.
But there was no point dwelling on the problem. It would be happily resolved, and soon, once Caitlin healed enough. Caitlin might be inexperienced, and therefore a little nervous about sex, but she'd made perfectly clear she was not reluctant. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"Something to look forward to," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "But now that the dust seems to be settling, sweetheart, how about explaining this little bombshell you just dropped on everybody. What the hell is a taif, anyway? Exactly, I mean. In general, I understand it's something like a junior kochan."
Dr. Kinsey's voice interjected. "A probationary kochan, would be more accurate. Or, better yet, a trainee-kochan."
Kralik hadn't seen him coming. The professor waved his hands apologetically. "I don't mean to intrude though, if this is a private moment."
Caitlin smiled up at him. "Private moment? In a tent jammed full of soldiers? Please, Doctor Kinsey. I'm not a prude, but—still!"
Kinsey chuckled. So did Kralik. She nodded toward a nearby stool, and raised her voice. "Have a seat. And I imagine everyone here would like to hear what you have say."
Kinsey perched himself on a stool and waited until the people in the tent had gathered around.
"The origin of the institution of taif goes all the way back, in Jao history. It's something of a necessity, if you think about it. There are still isolated groups of Jao slaves to this day, in Ekhat captivity. There were far more, in the time after the Jao rebellion began. So, from the start, the Jao were faced with the problem of what to do with newly freed slaves. In some cases, so far as I can determine—especially when the number of freed slaves was small—they were simply adopted into whatever kochan freed them. But marriage-groups are deeply innate in the Jao, and were so even among slaves. Personally, I suspect the Ekhat bred that into them, in order to keep their numbers under control."
By now, he'd adopted his favorite professorial stance in the absence of a proper desk—hands clasped in his lap, when not gesturing with them right and left.
"You can see the difficulty. Breaking up a Jao marriage-group is even more traumatic for them than divorce is for us. So, the taif was created to resolve the problem."
He paused, looking professorially alarmed. "You all understa
nd, of course, that I'm simplifying grossly. No doubt the taif-institution was never 'created,' in the sense that one creates a machine. Rather, it would have evolved—"
"Cut to the chase, Professor," Tully grumbled. "We're not scholars. We'll all forgive you any lapses into imprecision. Personally, I'd appreciate them. I'm a simple-minded grunt."
Kinsey looked a bit startled, but recovered quickly. "Well, then. So long as it's understood—" He hurried on, since Tully was starting to glare.
"The point being that Caitlin's proposal fits us rather neatly into an already existing Jao custom. The only unusual aspect of it, in fact—other than the obvious one of applying the institution to a species other than Jao—is her proposal to have the Bond serve as the overseeing kochan. The 'trainer kochan,' if you will."
Tully rolled his eyes. "Oh, great. Wrem-fa on a planetary scale." But he didn't really seem aggrieved.
"It's the best possible solution," Kinsey insisted, "if the Bond agrees. For humans, certainly. We'll have roughly—very roughly—a status equivalent to one of the old United Nations trusteeships or protectorates. Except, with the Bond, I don't think we'll have to worry that the supposedly benign colonial power is really using its protectorate status to maintain what amounts to permanent colonial rule. Maybe, we'll see. But as problems go, that one's in the future and nothing like the problem of being under direct Narvo rule—or the direct rule of any kochan. The Bond, of course, would oversee us, and would effectively control matters of defense and 'foreign relations.' But they'd leave our own internal affairs to us. The truth is, since 'defense' and 'foreign affairs' now refers to the Ekhat war, we're in no worse shape than we were before the conquest when we didn't know about any of that anyway. Except—ha!—give the Jao this much, they got rid of all those damn endlessly bickering nation-states. I, for one, won't miss that at all."
His clasped hands were now waving back and forth. "The best part, though, is Caitlin's proposal of a double taif, because that will . . ."
Kinsey's voice trailed off, his eyes now riveted on something in the direction of the tent's entrance.
Kralik swiveled his head and saw that Aille had entered the tent, with Yaut and Wrot preceding him. When he looked back down at Caitlin, he saw that her face was paler than ever.
"He's going to beat me to a pulp," she predicted. "Sorry, Ed. You'll be horny a while longer. If Yaut starts in on me, at least a year."
* * *
But there was no anger in Aille's posture, as he gazed down at her. Caitlin couldn't quite tell what there was, since Aille's body was flowing from one posture to the next, never settling on any. As though he, too, hardly knew what to think.
"A fascinating idea," he said. "Why did you not propose it to me before?"
"I—" Caitlin blinked. "I only thought of it myself as we walked out to the circle." She smiled wanly. "There only seemed two alternatives. The Bond would find either for Narvo or Pluthrak, neither of which I thought would be good. But I was remembering that my father says there is always a third way, if you look hard enough."
Tully grunted, smiling strangely.
"Will the Bond agree?" Kralik asked.
"They already have," announced Wrot. "No sooner than the Naukra were safely back on their ships, all except Narvo and Pluthrak, whom the Preceptor had instructed to remain behind. I think the Narvo was most aggrieved."
His ears waggled sheer glee. "And Dau krinnu ava Pluthrak even more so. Ha! Enjoyable, that was. To see a subtle Pluthrak elder realized he'd been out-maneuvered by someone. Of course," he added, in an ameliorating tone, "it was the Bond's Strategy Circle."
Aille's own posture flickered, for a moment, into an odd combination of chagrin and . . . yes, amusement also.
"It is true, I suspect," Aille admitted. "I think now this entire affair, from the very beginning, was—was—"
" 'Engineered,' would be the human term," Wrot advanced, not perhaps helpfully. "Or better still, 'orchestrated.' "
"That is not helpful," growled Yaut. "Wisely has it been said—by Jao!—that old bautas are often a curse."
Caitlin frowned. "Surely the Bond didn't . . . I mean, they certainly have never had any contact with me."
Yaut shrugged, the gesture coming to him now as easily and smoothly as it would to a human. "Their strategists do not think in human terms, Caitlin. When you think of 'strategy,' your thoughts are like those of you who play that silly game I have seen. Called 'chess,' I believe. Angular, if you will, this move leading to that. Such is not the Bond's way. They think like Jao, in terms of flow. Create a situation and let it unfold."
He gave Wrot a none-too-friendly sidelong look. "So. Whether he is right or not, I do not know. What I do know is that dealing with this old one will be difficult, in the years ahead. He is too smug."
Wrot looked smug. "Especially since I am, so far, the eldest of the new elders of the new taif. Though I won't be, if that Binnat makes up her mind. Ha! Binnat has always been prone to indecisiveness. But she is also very shrewd, that one. She would make an excellent elder."
"You've already decided upon elders?"
Yaut and Wrot stared at her, as if she were a cretin. "Of course," Yaut snorted. "How is this difficult? Who else would there be, beyond me and Wrot and Hami? And, as he says, the one Binnat, if she agrees."
He glanced at Aille. "The others—this one especially—are obviously too young and impulsive and immature. Though, I admit, the breeding stock looks splendid."
Caitlin shook her head, trying to catch up. "That's not what I meant. How many Jao have agreed to leave their existing kochan and join the new taif? I would have thought . . . that would take a long time, for a Jao to decide. It can't have been more than two hours since the Naukra dispersed."
The answer was obvious, even before they spoke. All of Aille's personal service, of course. And . . .
"How many?" she whispered, already knowing she had become part of a new legend.
"Hundreds, girl," Yaut said softly, "here at Pascagoula alone. Thousands—tens of thousands—once the news spreads across the planet. Aille's name will draw them like a magnet. He has become almost as popular among Jao here as among humans. And why not? Has he not rescued them from what seemed an eternity of endless confrontation with humans?"
For a moment, Yaut looked uncomfortable. "Besides . . . There are many veterans on Terra who like it here, if the conflicts would cease. It is a stimulating world, whatever else. And—being honest—it is not always easy, for those who are of low-status in low-status kochan. With a new taif, their lives will be more open, their possibilities for association greatly expanded."
Wrot's snout wrinkled. "That—coming from a Pluthrak fraghta! I could tell you tales . . . But, it is not needed."
He drew himself up into a flamboyantly self-righteous posture: "I will not be the first to dredge up ancient grievances! Not Wrot! Once Wrot krinnu Hemm vau Wathnak—and now, Wrot krinnu Aille vau Terra."
He was looking smug again. "We already chose the name. Me and Yaut and Hami—even consulted with the dilly-dallying Binnat—as the new elders. Took no time at all. Jao do not squabble like humans. The name was obvious, once we settled with the Preceptor that it would be unseemly to name the Bond as the root clan."
Krinnu Aille . . .
Living in a legend, indeed. Caitlin knew that the names of Jao clans derived from that of their most illustrious founding member. Sometimes male, sometimes female—but, always, not one of the elders but one of the founding parents.
She realized, suddenly, why Aille's posture—normally so controlled and elegant—was wavering all over the place. And could not stop herself from bursting into laughter.
Whatever else he was, however impressive in so many ways, Aille shared one characteristic in common with Caitlin herself. He was a virgin, too—and, unlike her, knew almost nothing about sex, even intellectually.
Just to make things worse, clearly enough the new taif elders were not about to waste any time. A bride—okay, groom,
what's the difference when you're that naïve?—on the eve of his wedding!
Wrot confirmed her guess. Smugly.
"We will begin pouring the new kochan-house tomorrow. On the Oregon coast. With a big mating pool, of course. This will be a vigorous taif, ha! We will gain kochan status in no time!"
He and Yaut both bestowed looks of firm resolve upon Aille.
"And this one will make himself of use," Yaut stated.
Epilogue
The Lovers
"Are you okay?" Kralik asked, leaning over Caitlin and stroking her hair.
She burst into laughter. "Is that a trick question? For Chrissake, Ed, of course I'm okay. Women have been doing this for millions of years, y'know. Getting rid of virginity is our most ancient and hallowed custom. Besides, it's been two weeks since Oppuk thumped on me. Those bruises are all gone, and you sure didn't inflict any new ones. Casanova couldn't have been slicker."
He smiled and glanced at her arm. The cast covering it was the only thing she was wearing. The feel of her nude body pressed against his was still exciting, even now, after their passion was spent.
"I was just a little worried . . ."
She nuzzled him, pressing lips against his throat. "If you keep this up, I'll have you committed to a rest home. I swear, if I discover I'm marrying a fretful codger . . ."
He met her lips with his own, and they spent some time in a long, lingering kiss. When it was over, Kralik's smile was the relaxed and assured one she treasured the most.
"Fine, fine, forget I asked. Speaking of which, how's it coming?"
Caitlin frowned. "Well, most of the preparations for the wedding are set." She snorted. "And don't bother telling me—again—that your side of it is all ready to go. Smug frickin' generals with their ready-made staffs, and what's there to do anyway except get a ring and a tux and a best man? Rafe did agree, I assume?"
Kralik nodded. Caitlin's frown deepened. "I'm the one with all the grief. The worst of it's Tamt. I think I'm going to have to ask the whole damn Jao taif to help me hold her down while we get her fitted for a maid-of-honor's dress. She is not going to wear that damn warrior's harness!"