by Lyn Gala
“You steal as efficiently as one twice your age,” the Grandmother said. Eighty would still be young, but to have a Grandmother call you older than your given years could not be taken any other way than as a compliment.
“Ondry has not only taught me but sheltered me so I can believe I will be valued.” The pain and insecurity were evident in the tone, although Ondry did not know whether Liam intended to reveal as much.
His suffering drew a hiss from more than one Grandmother. They needed reminding that humans did not automatically value palteia and Liam had suffered greatly. No doubt these Grandmothers had heard as much of the story as Liam had offered in the temple when they tested his nature, but no Grandmother had lived with Liam or seen him struggle with his fears.
“I am sure Ondry is old enough to recognize when you require shelter and when you are able to walk out on your own. After all, a parent entrusted with a youngling would find himself losing rank if he kept his youngling so close the child could not grow.” Her cadence and tone made it clear she was emphasizing the second part of that statement. She suspected Ondry held Liam too close, and while she felt Ondry’s age allowed him to recognize Liam’s need for independence, her phrasing made it clear she suspected he acted in a way that was not in Liam’s best interest. The insult was so subtle that Liam had no hope of parsing the exact meaning, but every Rownt in this room understood it.
Ondry kept his breathing steady even though he felt starved for oxygen and light-headed. They questioned his rank because of his treatment of Liam. As much as Ondry wanted the higher rank, he would not trade on his adored Liam’s well-being.
Liam’s next words communicated his discomfort. “I am not qualified to speak on issues of status and parenthood. I must speak with Ondry about this.”
“To consult one’s chilta is proper,” the Grandmother said, using inflection to imply that something in the conversation was less than proper, but Ondry didn’t know if Liam understood that. Ondry would teach Liam the more subtle forms of insult by tone soon, though. These Grandmothers did not understand humans like the Grandmother of Janatjanay had, and they were not as careful to avoid complex language around Liam. Ondry wondered what they would think once they stood face-to-face with other humans for negotiations. Unfortunately, that brought Ondry right back to the heart of the problem. They wished to take Liam into such danger without him.
The eldest Grandmother came lumbering out from behind the stairs, the light curtains dividing around her shoulders as she passed through them. Liam remained at her side, but Ondry could see the stiff angle of his back, and the wonderful scents from earlier had vanished. Ondry resented the Grandmothers for that.
The two of them drew near, and Ondry stood. Immediately Liam stepped away from the Grandmother and bowed deeply to her before returning to Ondry’s side. “She wants me to go with them and leave you behind,” Liam blurted without any guile.
“I heard,” Ondry said calmly. He looked at the Grandmother and fought to keep from raising his lip. The muscles twitched, and he knew he was being disrespectful, but he found he cared about that less and less. Rather than show any unhappiness, the Grandmother gazed back, unmoved by Ondry’s emotions.
“I can go with them,” Liam said with all the enthusiasm of a food preparer offering to clean another’s dishes.
Ondry sat and pulled Liam close so he had to sit on Ondry’s thigh. “I have great trust in the Grandmothers to rule in all things Rownt,” he said. He spoke to Liam, but he knew everyone listened. “But only you know the human danger. No Rownt understands humans well enough to predict what direction humans might take in an attack. And while I can judge danger from watching you and your reactions, the Grandmothers do not know you that well.” Ondry gave the eldest a narrow-eyed look and dared her to disagree with that statement of fact. “If you would feel safer having me there to watch your reactions and notice any discomfort, I will come.”
The Grandmother widened her eyes in curiosity, but she did not disagree with him. However, Ondry had a feeling he had ensured this ship would never give him tuk status. That was fine. He could seek status to trade with the Imshee on other ships. If one temple refused to honor a rank, another might still recognize it. At least Ondry hoped they would. He didn’t know the various relationships between the ships. Unlike towns with thousands of years of history that typically defined political alliances, the ships had their own rules, rules that Ondry did not understand well enough.
“I can provide no more security than can the Grandmothers, and I trust them to protect you. I have no interest in making agreements for this ship, but I can recognize your alarm and discomfort faster than any other Rownt in this room, so if that skill is needed, I require no one’s permission to accompany my palteia anywhere.” Ondry wrapped his tail around Liam’s leg and studied him. One wrong twitch and Ondry would not only go with Liam, he would lock the nictel around Liam’s leg and hold him close so the humans did not mistake his claim.
Liam pulled his eyebrows down in an expression that would have been aggression in a Rownt, but Ondry recognized it as confusion. Ondry stroked the side of Liam’s neck to comfort him. This is what Grandmothers could not do.
“My status suffers only if I fail you in some way that is predictable,” Ondry said, and now that the eldest Grandmother pointed it out, it was rather predictable that a tree sheltered from the sun too much failed to thrive. However, that did not mean Liam was ready to endure the light.
Liam leaned into Ondry. “This ship is much larger than the humans expect. The technology will frighten them, so they will be slow to take any action unless they perceive an immediate danger. I’m not a threat. I’ll be safe because they will be too focused on the Rownt.”
Ondry studied Liam, searching for some sign he lied to better Ondry’s position.
“Really, I will be fine.” Liam laughed. “Actually, I wish I could be in the Command meeting. Someone is going to give live birth to kawt younglings.”
Shock made Ondry fully open his eyes.
“It’s a saying,” Liam explained. “If a human gave birth to kittens, to a small variation of a kawt, then she would be greatly shocked.”
“And biologically compromised,” Ondry added. It was a disgusting thought.
“But when we say someone is going to give birth to kittens, it means they are very upset. Trust me, there will be many, many people giving birth to kittens when they see the size of this ship. Humans are going to distrust everything they know about the Rownt and want to confirm every scrap of intelligence.”
“So they will finally act rationally,” another Grandmother said.
The eldest smiled briefly. “Yes, I believe the humans can act logically, even if their assumptions have led them to believe they do not need to around us. It was poor luck the humans found Anla first and learned their manners from those eggless sellers. So, youngling, how many days do you need to introduce your Ondry to human traders before you are free to walk with us?”
Liam looked from Ondry to the Grandmother and back. “I could take two days to send out information, currier over samples of the metals, let them see what superior goods we have to trade, and then set up a meeting place on the third day.”
“Would he need you to sell the goods?”
When Liam didn’t answer, Ondry wrapped his hand around Liam’s neck. “This is a new territory, and I feel no shame in admitting I want you with me. But if you tell me your presence is not needed and that I can handle the trade alone, I will also believe you.”
“They’re going to be intimidated, and they don’t know how to read Rownt body language, so they may fail to make bids on the goods only because they are unsure of you,” Liam said softly.
Ondry nodded. It made sense. On Prarownt, the Grandmothers had demanded humans adapt to Rownt trading structures; however, here he would need to learn how humans assigned value and adapt. As of yet, he did not have those skills. “If the Grandmothers wish time to service and mechanically secure the ship
, then we can trade. When they are ready to speak to the human leaders, you can assist them.”
Liam reached out, hesitating before resting his hand on Ondry’s shoulder. “Once we have traded for credits, humans have purchasing systems that are run by computer and easy to navigate without any negotiation. I will show you human shopping, and you can review potential trade items for us to take back to Rownt worlds.”
“You think like a trader,” Ondry said with affection. Liam was skilled, and Ondry tried to focus on his pride in having the Grandmothers recognize that. His gut still ached at the idea of allowing Liam to interact with humans. Perhaps Liam’s suffering had prejudiced Ondry against the species, but he was not a fan of humanity. Despite that, respect for the Grandmothers and Liam’s promise that he would be fine were logically more significant than his displeasure. Ondry would endure a little displeasure.
Chapter Five
The street was so crowded with humans pressing close that Ondry held tight to Liam and wished for the nictel, not for the comfort it gave his palteia but because Ondry felt like he was wading in turbulent waters and about to get dragged under. He had never seen so many beings pushed into such a limited space. Since he had conceived of trading with the Imshee for their genetic skills, he had studied the various species in the open database, which included the four species Rownt had the most history with: Imshee, Ko-tekteta, Cy, and Anla. He knew some other species preferred small and crowded areas. However, Liam was comfortable in the much more open spaces of Prarownt, and Ondry had somehow expected that to mean most humans preferred a certain openness around them. They even had a word—claustrophobia—that implied it.
But that assumption did not match the reality. The noise and crush of human bodies was overwhelming. The humans all pushed into each other, touching and surging like a wave. If not for the guards, Ondry feared the humans would press close to him, touch him. Ondry had gone a hundred years without touching another, and while he hungered for the soft touches of Liam, the thought of other hands against his skin made him shiver in revulsion. Even the transportation lanes showed this lack of an area of personal control.
Everywhere engines whined, each at a different pitch. People’s voices swelled like storm-pressed waves. People shouted. And as Ondry and Liam drew near to any cluster of humans, the voices would settle and quiet only to rise to unimaginable levels behind them. The people moved out of their way, so Ondry did not have to push through the masses of fragile bodies, but he could see how they all shoved one another.
And then there were those sent by the human authorities—different authorities if Ondry had understood Liam correctly. One group ran in front of them, taking pictures, and a small flying device had a camera pointed at them. The press, Liam had called them in Earth language, and Ondry had wondered at the etymology of the word. In English, press meant to push, but now that Ondry saw how these individuals shoved and clambered onto objects to get a better photograph or call out an improper question, Ondry better understood the term.
The second authority came from the government, an organization similar to the Grandmothers. They had sent warriors to guard Ondry and Liam so the two of them could walk to a building where a major human trader waited for them. The idea they needed guarding made Ondry pale until he was the same color as the humans around him. Well, some of the humans. Ondry had seen the dark-skinned trader who had taken Liam’s place, but he had not expected a human world to have such variety and color.
“Does human hair grow that way?” Ondry asked as he looked at a female with a twisted blue spiral on her head.
Liam looked over. “No. Coloring and shaping the hair is seen as a way to express yourself, like wearing jewelry or putting a mural on your sleeping room wall.”
“And what expression is that?” Ondry asked. A human darted forward, and for a second, Ondry struggled to rein in his predatory instincts. It was difficult when the human touched him before darting away. A soldier shouted at the human and chased after him a short distance, and Ondry twitched with the urge to hit someone.
“That is her saying she will not be controlled.”
“She needs to announce this?” Ondry had assumed that much would be understood.
“Sometimes the young have trouble breaking away from a parent who wishes to shelter them.”
Ondry’s nose closed as Liam’s words came too close to what the Grandmothers had accused him of doing. A parent should encourage a child to steal their own meat, but that did not mean all parents excelled equally. Ondry’s own mother had done well, perhaps because she was older and had watched others make the mistake of teaching their younglings proper skills too late. However, Ondry suspected he would struggle with that same task. He wondered if any youngling he might have been entrusted to raise would have needed to take drastic steps to find his or her own status. Certainly Ondry held tightly to Liam, but if he had good evidence that a child or palteia was ready to walk alone, would he have the strength to allow them to make their own mistakes and explore the world? Ondry sometimes feared his emotions were illogical.
Now that he had a palteia to share his nest, females would most likely choose another to raise their hatchlings—one who had no divided loyalty and one with stronger ties to the ship community. At least that would save Ondry the shame of making errors in the raising of young. Ondry watched as a human held a small child up and appeared to be shouting near the child’s ear. At least Ondry assumed it to be a child, although human size apparently did vary greatly, so he could not be sure. Either way, the smaller human clearly struggled to hear and leaned closer. So the noise level was uncomfortable, even for them.
“Are human worlds always so loud?” Ondry asked in a voice he normally reserved for speaking to someone across a field or when talking over the bleating of some animal.
Liam gave him a sympathetic look. “Sometimes they’re louder. You should go to a sports game, and then you’ll hear loud humans.”
Spectator sports—that was another human invention Ondry did not understand. To engage in competition led to great pleasure, but to watch others in competition seemed unimportant and a waste of time, but apparently the human psychology found entertainment in such pursuits.
The soldier whose uniform bore markings that gave him more status moved closer. “Is your…um…” The human struggled to come up with an acceptable term. He looked at Ondry before turning back to Liam. “Is your buddy okay?” Apparently humans had decided not to use the word chilta, although they had adopted other Rownt words that did not appear to translate into their language easily. Diallo assured the Grandmothers that appropriating vocabulary was normal for her species, but this word proved the exception.
“He’s surprised at the noise,” Liam answered.
The soldier lowered his voice. “It’s just that we were told if they got pale like that, it might be a good time to panic.”
“No panicking required,” Liam said without any concern in his tone, but his body language was stiff. Ondry uncurled his tail and curled it around Liam’s leg. Liam raised an eyebrow at him. “He’s fine,” Liam assured the soldier.
“And you’ll tell us if he’s not?” The soldier studied Ondry with a suspicion so obvious that even Ondry could not mistake this soldier’s worry.
“You do know he understands every word, right?”
The soldier’s eyes grew wide. Ondry had an initial feeling the man was surprised even though Ondry knew in human terms wide eyes were more likely to indicate alarm.
“Humans appear easily excited,” Ondry said.
Liam laughed. “Probably,” he said in English. “Humans aren’t used to aliens that are larger than us. Anla are nice and small.”
“And insane,” Ondry added.
“And insane,” Liam agreed. Again he spoke in English, and the soldier seemed somewhat calmer as he backed away and returned to his position as a rear guard. “I prefer Rownt. Much calmer and more sane,” Liam said. As they began to walk again, Liam put a hand on Ondry’s
arm. “There’s a park up here. It might help to get away from the street.”
“But the traders we will meet are found on the streets, are they not?”
“Yes, but we have plenty of time.” Liam switched to Rownt. “I thought you might act a little irrationally at seeing the city, so we left early.”
Ondry disliked that assumption, but he had to admit it was accurate even if the term illogical could not be modified to suggest a lot or a little. One either possessed logic or one did not, and the crowding and noise began to challenge Ondry’s ability to make logical choices.
Considering that the two young Rownt who had shown the greatest interest in and talent in speaking English had visited the city with Diallo, Ondry wondered how they had handled seeing humans in such numbers. “How did the younglings handle their visit?”
“They were excited by all the new things,” Liam said. Ondry felt shame he could not do as well as two lek-ranked youngsters. He took a long breath through his nose and tried to release some of the tension from his muscles.
“They did get overwhelmed, and Diallo had to chase the humans out of a building so they could calm down. After that, the zoo officials decided to close the park and let them see the exhibits alone, or as alone as they could get.”
That was some comfort. A flying camera came in closer, and Liam directed an unhappy look toward those human officials in front. Apparently the temple did not send out simple bursts of factual statements. Humans had an entire authority designed to not only provide data but offer possible interpretations of that data. Ondry had not expected such a reverence for information. The camera rose higher so it no longer hovered in front of Ondry.
The humans had offered to close the street, but Ondry had not understood the nature of a human city well enough to know why he might prefer such treatment. Liam had advised that when the human disseminators of information were kept away from information, the entire population could grow increasingly concerned.