by Lyn Gala
Liam darted forward and caught Framkie by the arm. “He wanted me to tell you he values me. My skills. My abilities.”
“It’s always good to have skills,” Framkie replied, but again, there was a tone there that Ondry could not understand. It occurred to him that since the Grandmothers had admitted their own confusion when it came to human emotion, that allowed him to show ignorance without any loss of status. Perhaps that was why the eldest Grandmother had asked him to assist in the understanding of the database. If that was so, then Ondry had a rare opportunity here to demand a few answers of his own.
“If you wish to protect Liam, why did you never protect him from abuse?” Ondry asked. Unfortunately, Ondry could not ask in human language, so Framkie couldn’t understand Ondry.
Liam did. His eyes grew large, and he remained silent for a time. Finally he said, “I don’t think I’m going to translate that.”
Framkie gave Ondry a narrow-eyed look. “What? Did Big and Ugly have something unpleasant to say?”
“He’s asking about things he doesn’t understand.”
“Like what?”
“Like nothing that matters.”
“Whoa. Okay, so he’s either insulting you or me. I don’t see I gave him much reason to complain.”
Ondry’s nose snapped shut, and he paled in anger. Given the logical construction of the sentence, the most reasonable inference was that Framkie believed Ondry would insult his own palteia. Ondry wondered if any of the officers or Grandmothers would care if he broke one human.
“He insulted you,” Liam said as he put his hand on Ondry’s arm. “He wanted to know if you’re so damn worried, why you never did anything to stop Kaplan.”
Framkie stared at Liam for a second before he slowly turned to look at Ondry. “You hit below the belt. Yeah, I stood by while that asshole did a lot of shitty things, but it wasn’t like Liam was asking for help. Some people don’t want anyone stepping in.” Framkie looked back at Liam. “Translate that.”
“He understands English.”
Ondry did, and he understood that adults did not wish others to make choices for them. However, Framkie had called the Rownt willingness to allow adults to make their own choice to die evil. If Ondry was confused before, he was bewildered now. Before he could ask another question, Framkie spoke.
“At least I don’t let kids die. That’s a Rownt specialty.”
Ondry’s muscles warmed as the blood flow shifted in response to his killing rage.
“They would never allow a child to die. Ever,” Liam said firmly. “And they lay so many eggs they can’t mourn every single one. Do you think every human who has a miscarriage grieves?”
“My mother did.” Framkie crossed his arms.
“And if she had suffered ten thousand miscarriages? Would she mourn each one?” Liam demanded. “Rownt aren’t human. They don’t have the same biology, and they can’t have the same reactions. But that doesn’t mean they’re evil. Ondry is an ethical man who cares about me in his way, and the Rownt way is a lot more predictable than any human emotion.”
“Predictable.” Framkie said the word with no intonation at all. The flat delivery made little sense to Ondry. “That’s what you want out of life, to be around someone predictable? You’re giving up a chance to have a wife and kids. Hell, you could have a husband and kids—who cares? But you’re giving that up to negotiate for some generals? Worse. The generals could leave you out there negotiating for aliens.”
Despite Liam’s early prohibition on showing affection, Liam leaned into Ondry’s side. Ondry wanted to pull him close and hold him, but he did not understand the human perspective or how Liam might react to humans seeing affection, so he hesitated.
“I want predictable,” Liam said, his voice softer now. It was as if the emotional content had changed when Ondry hadn’t noticed. “I don’t need kids or a pension. I need Ondry, and because he’s not human, I don’t have to worry.”
Framkie shook his head. “That’s where you always get yourself in trouble. The only one that will take care of you is yourself, Munson. You have to protect your own interests.” Framkie took a step closer, but then his gaze flicked up to Ondry and he stopped.
“Did you know Ondry is risking his status, the one thing he loves more than life, to try to find some cure for aging?”
Framkie seemed to sag like some invisible hand had put a great weight on him. “Tell me you aren’t falling for that line.”
“I’m not, but not for the reasons you think. I doubt I’ll live long enough for Ondry to raise the money and the Imshee to do the research necessary to extend human life by any measurable amount. But he’s trying. And he never promised me a long life—he promised he would do everything in his power. When Ondry makes promises, he keeps them. He is predictable, and I like that.”
“You can do better. Hell, I’ll take you out barhopping. I’ll introduce you to some nice men. You can stay with me until you get this mess sorted out.” Framkie smiled at Liam.
“Not interested. I have a home, and I don’t need anything else. But I didn’t want to leave it the way it was before with you thinking I was in trouble.”
“I’m still not sure you’re safe.”
“Hey, I’m a hell of a lot safer than I was at the front.”
“Fuck, you had an ex-lover trying to kill you by sending you out on retrieval missions. You couldn’t have been in more shit if you’d volunteered for the explosives disarming unit,” Framkie said with a human huff. “Seriously though, if I’d tried to protect you from Kaplan, you would have told me to go fuck myself. If I thought I could have gotten through that thick skull of yours…” Framkie let his voice trail off.
“I know. I had to learn for myself.” Liam slid his arm around Ondry, and Ondry returned the gesture.
Framkie pursed his lips. “The guy who took your place in Kaplan’s bed made you look like a paragon of sanity.”
“Was that the skinny little one I met?”
“Yeah. When Kaplan dumped his ass and sent him on his first real patrol, the little asshole came back and lost his shit. He shot up the camp and killed Kaplan’s newest piece of ass. They arrested him and put him on hard labor.”
Ondry wasn’t sure what Framkie hoped to prove by giving away this piece of information for free, but some of the tension went out of Liam’s shoulders.
“Poor kid,” Liam said.
“Poor kid, my ass. He was a murderer. You got it worse than he had it. He never got sent on retrieval duty. And as bad as Kaplan pushed, you never resorted to murdering anyone.”
“Sometimes I wanted to.”
“Yeah, we all had those fantasies.”
They both fell silent, and Ondry wondered if they had ended their transaction or if the silence was some prelude to more trading of words. He could only stand to one side, which made him intensely uncomfortable because he didn’t know how to protect his Liam. Ondry only knew this man had a power to hurt Liam, and that made Ondry feel unforgivably aggressive. He was no helpless eggling to throw a harmless fit. Sometimes he truly did wish for less status so he could act on his feelings with more impunity.
Suddenly Framkie stood straight. “Oh shit. Is that a queen coming over this way?”
Ondry looked over his shoulder, and saw the eldest Grandmother was moving slowly toward them. She leaned on a heavy stick today, which allowed her to stand more upright and show off her beautiful height.
“Grandmothers,” Liam corrected Framkie.
“I think I need to do something somewhere else,” Framkie said, which appeared to be an unnecessarily vague sentence construction.
Clearly, the eldest Grandmother heard because she spoke in a voice that carried across the metal landing surface. “If Liam wishes to see his injured colleague Preston in the building dedicated to the injured, we are pleased to have him go.”
“Grandmother?” Liam called back. Ondry widened his eyes and studied the old woman. She had some plan, and if it put Liam at risk, Ondry w
as going to halt it here.
“Take care,” Framkie said before he turned and hauled himself up into the tall seat of his vehicle.
“No, wait,” Liam said. “She is saying that if I want to visit Preston in the hospital, then I should.”
“Preston?”
Liam hurried to back away from the truck. “But if he wouldn’t want to see me, that’s okay. You can tell him I said hello.”
Framkie pushed the door open wider. “Of course Preston would love to see you. I told you, stories about how you got out were like bedtimes stories. We all loved telling them. You’re sure it wouldn’t make for trouble? That does not look like someone you want to piss off.” Framkie didn’t take his eyes off the eldest. At least the man had sense enough to recognize real power.
She reached a spot several feet from Ondry and stopped. “I wish no trouble for Liam. I have harmed him in not understanding his needs, and now I hope to remedy my error by visiting this place for injured adults.” She nodded toward Liam and Ondry.
“The hospital?” Framkie said. Ondry suspected Framkie had some sort of communication device with the other officers because then he nodded. “Sure. Yeah. Hospital it is. So is it just Liam coming or will more of you want to come along?” That last sentence was spoken in such halting and hesitant tones Ondry didn’t know what to make of it.
“I doubt the entire delegation would have interest in coming, but I shall accompany you, and I believe Tuk-Bectl wishes to see the healing technology,” the eldest said with a smile.
Framkie did not appear reassured.
Chapter Twelve
Ondry kept Liam close, which put him near the front of Tuk-Bectl and the generals as they reached the hospital. The sharp scent of medicinal compounds made Ondry’s nose itch. Under normal circumstances, Ondry would have preferred to move to the side, but he walked between the eldest Grandmother and Liam, his hand on Liam’s shoulder. Framkie walked ahead, and he continually looked over his shoulder as though expecting the entourage that followed to change. Or perhaps he was expecting an attack. Ondry had found that understanding Liam did not imply an ability to understand any other human.
It did not.
“Is that a medical machine?” Bectl asked as they passed a large piece of equipment in the hallway. Despite the smaller human frame, these corridors were large enough for Rownt, although the Grandmothers could not stand fully upright. Ondry heard Diallo answer Bectl’s question, translating for one of the captains who had followed the generals. As far as Ondry could see, the generals had little interest in anything other than the Grandmother, and since only one had come, they all hovered around her like young desga chasing their mother. It was unkind to compare such able traders to herbivores and prey, but their closeness and the way they trailed after one another was similar.
Liam glanced over. “Bectl is enjoying the trip.”
“No doubt he can find a hundred improvements to sell to the human authorities if they have interest in improving the efficiency of their equipment,” Ondry said.
For some reason, the Grandmother smiled at him. “No doubt.”
“Lieutenant Munson,” a general called out. A slight tightening around the Grandmother’s mouth expressed her displeasure, which was the only reason Ondry did not correct this human in addressing Liam by human titles. Let the humans disgrace themselves and they would only harden the Grandmothers’ trading positions. “Since Colonel Diallo is busy, we would appreciate any translations you would be willing to provide.”
Liam glanced at Ondry, but Ondry had no preference in the matter and so said nothing.
“They’re commenting on Tuk-Bectl’s skill and the likelihood he could provide improvements on the design of the equipment,” Liam said.
“We would be happy to have some of the medical tech companies come out so Bectl can collaborate with them,” another officer offered.
Liam looked back at the generals. “Rownt don’t work that way. They’re very individualistic, and when they do collaborate, it’s done within the temple. It’s more likely Tuk-Bectl will come up with an original design, present the specifications to you, and offer to sell you a prototype.”
“And we shall be pleased to consider such an offer,” General Dafaor said with a sharp look toward the other officer. Ondry had not bothered to learn that one’s name since Dafaor seemed to make final decisions for the humans. Darfaor said to Liam, “While we’re at the hospital, several of the doctors expressed an interest in making sure Rownt food isn’t causing any unseen digestive problems. Perhaps you would be willing to allow them to give you a physical.”
Ondry’s blood rushed to his inner muscles, and the Grandmother turned to face the general. Dafaor stopped quickly, and the other officers all stopped with him and arranged themselves, reminding Ondry so much of desga he was tempted to say as much to the Grandmother. If she had been a Janatjanay Grandmother, he would have.
“Do you feel harm from Rownt food is likely?” she asked.
Liam gave Ondry a quick glance before translating. By the time he had, Diallo had returned and she moved to General Dafaor’s side. It was odd to see the two of them stand so close because she clearly deferred to him despite her greater height. That made Ondry uncomfortable in ways he knew to be irrational.
“The doctors fear no one has tried to eat an entirely local diet,” Dafaor said.
“I distrust their concern,” Ondry said.
The Grandmother gave him an amused look that suggested he did not need to speak such truth. “If your doctors would show Tuk-Ondry, Tuk-Bectl, and myself the equipment and how you judge health, that would be acceptable.”
Ondry was so shocked he could only tighten his hold on Liam’s shoulder as his vision seemed to narrow. She had called him tuk. Tuk-Bectl smiled at him, and when Ondry finally gathered his wits enough to look down, Liam was beaming. His eyes crinkled deeply, and he barely kept his lips over his teeth. Nothing was official until the eldest Grandmother named him tuk in the temple, and even then, Grandmothers from other ships and towns had no obligation to respect her opinion. It still stunned Ondry he would earn such an honor after being so sure the Calti Grandmothers did not respect him.
Ondry pulled Liam closer and listened as the Grandmother heard the general’s objections and countered with her own explanation that Tuk-Ondry was not permanently attached to the Calti and Liam might not return to Earth for a long time. The Rownt needed to understand how to monitor human health.
Many of the officers looked toward Liam, but he gazed back at them, the same happy expression on his face. After more negotiations than Ondry thought reasonable, a major was sent to speak with the doctors about a room large enough and a doctor confident enough to do a physical with three Rownt in the room.
“If that’s settled,” General Dafaor said, “perhaps we can continue. The doctors did not want to clear these halls for too long.”
The Grandmother turned slowly. She was tall enough to risk her head on the ceiling and light fixtures, so Ondry waited for her to start down the hall before he urged Liam to follow. Framkie stood outside a double door with a low enough height clearance that even Ondry would have to duck under.
“Preston is in here. I think he’s a little freaked out because they cleared everyone else out of the ward.” Framkie went through the doors. The Grandmother shuffled to one side, and that was all the invitation Liam required. He hurried through the doors with Ondry close behind. In the oversize room, Ondry found a large, sunny space with a dozen beds. The ceiling was lower in here, but Ondry could still easily stand.
“Mun-man!” the injured human called out. His hair was the same dark color as Liam’s, but this human had significantly browner skin on his arms. His back was covered in plastic and had a grayer hue. Clearly he had suffered a great injury and could not get out of the flat bed where he rested on his stomach. Liam hurried to his side.
“Shit, Preston, I thought you were supposed to duck.”
“Yeah, well I got the timing
a little wrong. You know me—anything for a little attention, and they have the pretty nurses around here.” When Liam reached for him, Preston grabbed his hand and held it for a time.
Liam looked so happy. “Tuk-Ondry, this is Corporal Ian Preston.”
“Hey now, that’s Light Sergeant Ian Preston. But I hear you got bumped all the way up to the officer’s end of the pool. When you decide to move up in the world, you do it in style.”
Preston was clearly trying to look over his shoulder, but the injury was quite severe. Ondry moved to where he could be seen more easily. Preston’s eyes went big when Ondry came around, and then he whistled. “Man, the television does not do him justice. He’s huge.”
Framkie sat on another bed on the far side of the room. “Not as big as all the others.”
“You’re jealous because you were always the short one,” Preston told Framkie.
“I don’t think I have any reason to be jealous of a man who took twelve years to make light sergeant,” Framkie said in an unkind tone. After all this time of feeling so unable to understand humans, it was as if some filter had turned, and now Ondry watched old trading partners exchanging well-worn insults with the ease of any Rownt.
Preston made a gesture toward Framkie with only his middle finger raised. Ondry made a note to ask Liam the meaning of that at some later time. “So how’s life with the aliens?” Preston asked Liam.
“The Rownt,” Liam corrected him.
“Okay, so how’s life with the Roannit?”
“He’s found himself another protector,” Framkie said. That was a true statement, and yet Preston picked up a paper booklet from his table and threw it blindly over his head. Given the injuries to his skin and his limited motion, he could not throw far, and the booklet fluttered to the floor near Framkie.
Liam laughed before answering, “I like them. They’re slow and predictable and don’t have wars.”
“Where do I sign up?” Preston asked. Horror tugged at Ondry’s stomach. Was this another palteia the humans had failed to protect?
“Their battles are to the death,” Framkie said, “and adults are expected to support themselves or starve to death quietly.”