by Lyn Gala
Preston frowned.
Liam spoke before Preston could. “I have the status of a palteia. It’s like a junior partner, and it means Ondry will always provide, and I will always work for him, and we’re family.”
“That’s not a half-bad deal, although I don’t think I’d want to call a Roannit family.” That was not a palteia’s reaction to an offer of protection. “Framkie, get over here where I can see you,” Preston shouted.
“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” Framkie complained, but he moved around the end of Preston’s bed. Ondry considered taking offense at how Framkie kept staring at him, but Liam and Preston were talking about humans Ondry didn’t know, and they appeared quite happy. So Ondry backed away since his presence clearly bothered Framkie. Now that Ondry saw Liam with both humans, he wondered which one was more representative of human attitudes. Preston accepted Liam at his word and seemed unbothered by Rownt appearance.
When Ondry reached the door, he realized Bectl and the Grandmother waited in the hall. There were no dangers here, and Ondry feared his own apprehension might cause Liam distress, so he joined them in the corridor.
“Liam sounds pleased,” the Grandmother said. The human voices carried through the wooden door.
“Yes,” Ondry said, bothered by how pleased Liam was with the company of these humans. Had Ondry denied Liam something essential, or was he simply glad to see those of his former comrades who had survived? The news that enemies had overrun the front lines had upset Liam badly, leading to many nights when Ondry would hold him and soothe him back to sleep after nightmares.
Susan Diallo stood next to General Dafaor, and she moved forward a half step, which caught Ondry’s attention. “Few people have permanent bonds with individuals who fight in prolonged battle together,” she offered in Rownt. Liam could have phrased it more pleasingly, but she got the message across. “However, these same individuals will feel a strong connection when they see one another because they suffered together.”
The Grandmother turned and gave Diallo her full attention immediately. “Does all mutual suffering cause humans to form loyalty bonds?”
Diallo looked at the general before answering. “I’m not an expert at human psychology, so others could give better answers, but I would say it usually does. Some kinds of suffering cause people to blame each other, but in a situation like war, people pull together.”
“Is this what humans mean when they speak of an ability to feel what others feel?” the Grandmother asked.
Empathy. The Grandmother spoke of the research Ondry had helped the other elder understand, although Rownt mouths were not built to speak that human word.
“Sympathy and empathy…yes,” Diallo agreed. “The emotion allows Liam to see the world through Rownt eyes.”
“His eyes are human,” the Grandmother corrected her.
Diallo bowed her head. “I apologize. I am not as skilled in the language as Liam. I am trying to explain he can construct Rownt emotions using his empathy. At this point, his emotional reactions are more similar to Rownt than human, but he assigned loyalty to those men when his empathy was still focused on human reactions.”
For the first time Ondry truly understood what Diallo had been attempting to do when she tricked Ondry into leaving Liam before attracting a predator. She hoped the shared fear of being hunted would create this bond Liam had with the two humans in the hospital room. She wanted to make herself someone Liam felt joy in seeing and desired the good favor of, much as one might want the good favor of a Grandmother. Part of Ondry deeply regretted he had not snapped her neck when it would have been judged a reasonable action. She had thought to steal Liam’s affections.
“Colonel?” General Dafaor asked.
“They’re asking about empathy and the plan to turn Liam’s sympathies toward me,” she explained.
Dafaor drew his lips together in an odd expression. “That was unfortunate. We know empathy can sometimes lead people to make irrational choices, and you must understand we feared Lieutenant Munson’s empathetic nature had caused him to make a dangerous alliance. We did not understand the nature of your relationship.” Dafaor nodded at Ondry. This was a human elder with hair turning light, and a bare head that in males could indicate age. Ondry had trouble feeling any sort of pride in the recognition of an elder when that elder was less than half Ondry’s age.
“I doubt concern for Tuk-Palteia Liam provided the primary motivation,” Ondry said. To speak before a Grandmother was rude, but the Grandmother had not been there to see the damage done by human foolishness. If Ondry did not speak, the issue would pass by without remark.
Diallo translated.
“Primary? No,” Dafaor admitted. “It was a secondary concern, and we would have provided mental health care. We also had concerns Liam might misrepresent humans, not out of malice but ignorance. With the Anla we discovered how dangerous it can be when one species erroneously believes it understands another.”
“It is poor luck you found the Anla first,” the Grandmother said. “The first races we met in space were far older than Rownt and forgiving of our errors in ways the Anla are not.”
Dafaor bowed deeply. “You are wise, but we had no idea how old or advanced your civilization was until very recently. So we did try to retrieve Palteia Lieutenant Munson, and for that I offer apologies and reparations. I had planned to make my offer after negotiations ended, but we have dispatched a ship with a number of trees and plant varieties Colonel Diallo suggested might be favorable to your people.”
“You sent a temple gift?” The Grandmother’s voice was as even as ever, but Ondry could see her confusion in the way she widened her eyes and flared her nostrils.
Diallo bowed, the mirror image of the one Dafaor had offered. “I had promised cinnamon trees to Ondry, and he asked that they be delivered to Janatjanay. I have simply provided advice on what other plants may find favor given the Rownt preferences.”
“A respectful gesture,” the Grandmother said. She looked first at Tuk-Bectl and then at Ondry before returning her attention to the humans. “An unexpectedly respectful gesture, and the only way for me to return that respect is to treat you as full equals and attempt to steal every piece of profit from our dealings.”
After Diallo translated, Dafaor laughed. “You are much more reasonable than any Anla.”
The Grandmother whistled, unwilling to even answer a statement that obvious. With nothing else to say, they fell silent and waited. Inside, Liam was still speaking with the others. Ondry noted that now that they were not discussing Liam’s choice to live with the Rownt, all three men sounded like unranked younglings sharing stories without thought to profit or advantage. Perhaps Preston eased the way between Liam and Framkie, or perhaps Framkie felt less concern over Liam’s choices now that Rownt were not visible. Ondry could not hope to understand how Liam interacted with his own species.
The human officers grew unquiet after a time, shuffling their feet and leaning on walls. When the Grandmother huffed, Ondry understood it was time to move on, but she did not demand his compliance by simply walking away as she would have a few days ago. Ondry could not quite understand this sudden shift in his status, but he was grateful for it. He listened to the conversation and slowly opened the door.
Liam sat on the edge of Preston’s bed, and Framkie sat on a low stool next to it, but their words had grown soft and Liam showed signs of distress. When Ondry heard the name of a battle mate who had died, he understood the source. Ondry remembered when he’d been young and his mother had not returned from a trading trip. Her goods were later found scattered across the trail near a landslide, although Ondry never knew if the falling rocks or predators had claimed her life. Ondry had only newly earned his first status, and he still would sometimes look at his mother, Asdria, and want to climb back into her nest, and other times he resented every gesture as undermining his new-won rank.
But when she died, the distress had torn at him. He saw shades of the same pain in Liam now. He gri
eved as deeply for men who had not always treated him well as Ondry did for the mother who had taught him how to steal meat. Liam cared so much, and Ondry could not protect Liam from the pain that would cause him. If all humans cared as much, Ondry could not fathom how the species survived. Were he to suffer every death as he had the death of Asdria, he would go mad and declare himself a ututeh so he never again had to allow others near him.
“The Grandmother wishes to leave,” Ondry said softly. Liam looked, and the whites of his eyes had taken on a pinkish hue.
“I’m coming.” He turned to the other humans and switched to English. “The commander of the ship wants to leave, and she’s waiting on me, so I think I have to go.”
Preston whistled. “A commander is waiting on you? I’m impressed, Munson. Don’t disappear into the black, okay?”
“I’ll send bursts to the soc-nets when I can. Promise.”
“Do,” Framkie said. He looked over at Ondry, but the fear and hate from earlier was gone. Either that or grief had replaced it.
Liam got up and came to Ondry, his every movement subdued. The Grandmother could wait. Ondry pulled Liam close and ran his fingers over his neck. Liam leaned into him, clinging tightly. The depth of Liam’s emotions frightened Ondry, and he studied the other two humans for some clue as to how he should handle this.
Framkie frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but Preston picked up a towel from his bedside table and threw it at the man. Framkie sat so close that even with the injury, Preston hit him in the face.
“What?” Framkie demanded.
“Be nice,” Preston said. Framkie closed his mouth without saying anything else. The interaction left Ondry still unsure how to handle his palteia’s grief, so he simply rumbled his reassurance. It felt like poor comfort, but Ondry had nothing more to offer.
“We lost a lot of people in the attack,” Preston said softly. “A few were good folks. Real good folks. When Liam walked out on that abusive asshole, Kaplan assigned him to some real dangerous duties, and he didn’t give Liam any backup. He wanted Liam going into hell alone so he’d die. A bunch of us got together, and we’d take turns going out with Liam, watching his back until he could finish those language lessons of his.” Preston stopped, and his face contorted with emotion.
“They were good people,” Framkie said.
Liam sobbed, and Ondry held tighter. Liam had expressed fear for his former battle mates in the past, but he’d never had such a strong reaction. Ondry tried to imagine how it might feel if he had lost not one mother but many. However, his imagination was not large enough to encompass such pain. Ondry rumbled louder and traced circles against Liam’s skin. He had little else to offer, and the sting of failure tortured him. His palteia hurt, and there was nothing Ondry could do to protect him.
When Liam took a deep breath and tried to push away, Ondry held him for a moment more before letting him go. “I’m okay,” Liam said, his voice shaky. He pulled the neck of his shirt up and used the inside to wipe his face.
“Bukowski would so make fun of you right now,” Framkie said.
Preston laughed and then gave a low, pained moan. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“She would,” Framkie defended himself.
“She’d make fun of all of us,” Preston said.
Liam held Ondry’s arm and seemed to struggle with his uneven breathing. “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you again?” Liam asked.
“If your big guy lets you, sure,” Framkie said.
Liam looked at Ondry. “Ondry worries, and maybe he holds on a little tight, but maybe that’s because I need to know he will hold on. But if I tell him I’m leaving the ship to visit a friend, he’ll listen to me. Right?”
“Yes,” Ondry agreed. If Liam informed Ondry he wished to go somewhere, he was an adult who could make such a choice. To be palteia was not to be a child.
“So I will be back, and next time I won’t bring the commander. But right now, I have a job to do.”
“Go. Your friends are chasing all the pretty nurses away,” Preston said. Ondry knew humans sometimes used extended rituals when they left, but Liam simply gave a nod and headed for the doors.
Chapter Thirteen
In the hall, the Grandmother waited, her eyes wide with confusion. Bectl appeared even more confused. He kept sniffing the air and studying everyone; however, Liam’s emotions were not on display for them. Ondry used his own body to partially shield Liam before he showed everyone a tooth.
Bectl paled and took a step backward.
“I am sorry about your losses. I know your unit lost a lot of soldiers,” Diallo offered.
Liam nodded without answering. The humans began to shift again, and Ondry wondered if this was some reaction to emotion. Before he could find any pattern in their small movements, the Grandmother started down the corridor, heading deeper into the hospital.
“Where is she going?” General Dafaor asked.
“I have no idea, sir,” Diallo said. She looked at Ondry, but he was not going to speak for a Grandmother. He simply followed Bectl, who trailed after her. They went through another set of double doors before Ondry caught up. Behind him, humans scrambled, and one of the generals ordered a younger officer to fetch hospital officials. It seemed they wanted to clear more hallways, but if the Grandmother had wanted halls cleared, she was able to ask for as much.
“Where are we going?” Liam whispered.
“Where the Grandmother wishes,” Ondry said. It was the only answer he had.
“Never a dull moment,” Liam muttered in English. Liam’s words proved prophetic when they reached a hallway with humans. One female dropped a metal dish that clattered on the hard floor, but mostly they all stood and stared.
“This is an active ward. You need to leave,” another female said. She moved toward the Grandmother with the confidence of one with high status. However, the Grandmother ignored her and headed for a set of doors that looked identical to the ones on Preston’s room. The human female grabbed the Grandmother’s arm. “You are not allowed in the room. We have patients in there!” The woman was clearly trying to stop the Grandmother, bracing her feet against the slick flooring.
The insult committed by touching a Grandmother was so great Ondry paled in horror, but the Grandmother ignored the human, easily pulling her into the room.
Humans shouted, and before Ondry could stop Liam, he darted forward. He pressed himself against the Grandmother and pushed through, into the room.
“We didn’t mean to startle anyone. This is the Rownt Grandmother who commands their ship, the Calti. She is interested in seeing a human hospital.”
“You need to leave,” the human woman said, and while Ondry could not see past the Grandmother’s wide back, it did seem like the human female was trying to physically push the Grandmother out. It occurred to Ondry that this moment was one of mutual humor. Liam said human jokes relied on surprise, and this was certainly an unexpected event. However, Rownt humor was based off the failure of an opponent, and this human female was fated to lose any pushing match with a Grandmother.
“Holy shit. That thing is big,” a human inside the room commented.
“She is the largest Rownt on the ship,” Liam said, “but on the planet, I met a Grandmother who was even older and larger. Rownt grow through their entire lives. This Rownt is trading with Command for ship-grade metals.”
“Please allow me through,” General Dafaor said as he moved dangerously close to Ondry. The Grandmother had permitted humans to touch her, but Ondry did not trust his own patience with such an offense, so he backed away. That forced Bectl away from the door.
“Doctor, please stop,” the general said. He reached an arm through to grab the female’s wrist. In the process, his sleeve brushed against the Grandmother’s arm. The Grandmother moved to the side, stooping to avoid hitting the ceiling. Allowing space for the general certainly showed a deference for rank that Ondry had not expected the Grandmother to show a human. Now that
she had moved, Ondry could see into a room that looked very much like the one Liam had just come from. A dozen humans lie in beds. A few were missing entire limbs, and others lay covered so their injuries were not as obvious. The general had his hand on the doctor’s arm, and another human slipped past Ondry into the room. This human wore white clothing that looked similar to the outfit the female wore.
“Sorry for the intrusion, people,” the general said. “The Rownt are interested in seeing how we care for the casualties of our war. This is Lieutenant Munson of the diplomatic corps, linguistic division, and Colonel Diallo, his immediate supervisor, is out in the hall.”
Ondry showed all his teeth, but only Diallo saw. She paled and took a step away from him. Good. Diallo was not Liam’s supervisor, and if she attempted to say otherwise, evisceration was a reasonable response.
The Grandmother asked, “Do humans care for all injured?” She looked to the two humans in white, so Ondry assumed she had recognized them as having special knowledge of caregiving. Humans often wore clothing to designate rank, and Ondry had seen many humans wearing similar white clothing.
Liam looked back at Ondry for a second before translating. The two caregivers looked at Liam. The male answered first.
“Of course we do. A society is judged by how it treats its weakest members.”
The Grandmother lowered herself into a crouch. “To be injured is not necessarily to be weak. What of strong individuals who dislike feeling weak?”
When Liam translated, the question caused a moment of silence. This time the female doctor answered. “No one wants to feel weak, and these people aren’t weak, but they’re injured and they need help. I don’t know how you manage injury among your people, but that question—”
She stopped when the general put his hand on her shoulder.
The Grandmother studied her. “My question upsets you.”
Diallo closed her eyes tightly and muttered. Ondry got the distinct impression she was not pleased.