Distant Friends and Other Stories

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Distant Friends and Other Stories Page 14

by Timothy Zahn


  "Well, sir, I've read the material we were provided, and it seems to have some inconsistencies in it. Are there three Falki sexes or just two?"

  "I see," Saiko said slowly, "I think. But the reports said the males lived in the villages with the females.

  They only dislike humans in their neuter state?"

  "How the males feel about us is really irrelevant because they're completely under the control of the females, who are tolerating us at the moment."

  "I'm not sure I understand."

  "Okay." I hunched forward slightly in my chair, feeling my professorial side taking over. "Here's the Falki setup. The females all live in the villages that are scattered over the major land masses. With them live the males, who handle all the heavy work-building, hauling, some farming-while the females have babies, do lighter work, and give all the orders. The males are completely subservient-as long as they're male. The minute they change to neuter-and the change apparently only takes minutes-they can't be ordered around any more by the females. They immediately leave the village and join up with the neuters who live in the surrounding area. We don't know the social structure of that group yet, but it's clear that they have one, because things get done. The neuters do all the hunting, fishing, lumbering-anything that needs to be done outside the village proper, delivering the goods to males at a rendezvous point near the village border and getting grain and clothing in return. If the village needs to move, the neuters blaze the trail and act as a moving screen while the males and females travel. And, of course, they do any fighting that needs to be done."

  "And when they go back to being male?"

  "They return to the village."

  Saiko stroked his lip thoughtfully. "Interesting. It makes sense to protect those who are breeding, both female and male, as much as possible. A most unusual expression of oneness, with this periodic changing of roles."

  "You mean the way the females dominate the males but not the neuters? I suppose that does make for a certain symmetry."

  He fixed me suddenly with a curious gaze. "Why do you insist on seeing it in terms of domination and submission? Couldn't it simply be that the Falkren recognize their interdependence and take the roles which allow their survival and growth?"

  I floundered for a good five seconds on that one. "I suppose I'm anthropomorphizing," I said at last.

  "Most human societies run along power/authority lines. So I guess we have an automatic tendency to assume aliens behave that way, too."

  "I see." There was an odd note of disappointment in Saiko's tone.

  "You disagree?" I probed.

  He hesitated, unblinking eyes gauging my reaction. I knew that look and the thoughts behind it; my own rather nonmilitary personality had made me an oddball of sorts even among other Starguard scientists.

  The search for a kindred spirit could be a long and painful one. "Go ahead," I encouraged him.

  "If I think in terms of dominance and submission, then I must consider myself as separate from the rest of the universe," Saiko said. "In other words, if I consider you to be outside of me, then I can try to dominate you. This sets up conflict between us.

  "If instead I consider you to be actually another part of me, then I won't fight you, because we don't fight ourselves. I'll try to help you, try to let you have your way as much as possible. You see? The conflict is now gone."

  "Yes," I said carefully. I'd heard of that philosophy before. Oriental in origin, it was largely in the clutches of various mystical cults these days, at least out in the Colonies. "It's an interesting concept, but I think it's a bit risky. Humanity has certainly had more wars than we've needed, but it may be better sometimes to err on that side than to be too pacifist and get trampled. You see, with your philosophy there's very little you can do in the way of self-defense."

  Saiko shrugged. "I could point out that an overly aggressive policy also has its dangers. What if you run into a powerful force which you provoke to an unnecessary conflict, for example?"

  "True," I admitted. "But at least you're ready for the war when it comes. If you're unable or unwilling to hit back, you won't survive." I could hardly believe I had wound up on this side of the argument. Saiko must be even less a swashbuckler than I was, I decided.

  "There are ways to defend yourself without injuring your opponent," Saiko said, smiling faintly.

  "Sure-force fields. If you ever invent one let me know. Incidentally, if you don't approve of combat, what are you doing in an Enforcer Brigade?"

  "The Eighteenth needed another ordnance tech and I was available. On the other hand, where better to speak against conflict than where the conflict already exists?" His smile vanished and he grew serious.

  "Tell me, sir, have negotiations been tried with the Falkren?"

  I waved at my computer terminal and the pile of hard-copy records beside it. "All the information I've got says we've tried talking with all three sexes. The males don't seem to count at all. The females are willing for the mineral exploration teams to poke around in exchange for the gifts we give them, but they have no authority outside the villages. The neuters have flatly refused to let us on their turf, and when armed teams go out anyway, they shoot crossbow bolts at them. Even using their best ambush and guerilla tactics, the casualties are running about twenty to one against them, but they still refuse to even discuss the issue.

  Although with the Falki social system as genetically based as it is, I'm not sure talk would help anyway."

  "Perhaps it's a point of honor," Saiko murmured.

  "Perhaps." Honor, I'd heard, was supposed to be important to the Oriental mind. I wondered if Saiko realized how dishonorable it looked to the other Enforcers for him to meekly accept the nickname they'd pinned on him.

  realized how dishonorable it looked to the other Enforcers for him to meekly accept the nickname they'd pinned on him.

  "I'm glad you stopped by, Saiko. Feel free to drop back any time."

  "Yes, sir." Moving with quiet grace, he left the room.

  Down deep, I sensed I'd just flunked a test-but, then again, he wasn't the kindred spirit I was seeking, either. Sighing, I got back to my work.

  The incident in the Enforcers' mess happened two days later, and it was simple luck that put me there at the right time. I was looking for one of the noncoms and had dropped in on the chance he was having lunch. He wasn't there, but as I turned to leave a bellow from across the room made me spin around.

  "Hey, Love-and-kisses!" a gravelly voice shouted. "You, Saiko! Get back here!"

  Saiko, who had been carrying his tray toward an empty table, turned as a behemoth of a man rose a few paces behind him. I recognized the man instantly: Sergeant Cabral, universally known as Moose. And for good reason. "Yes?" Saiko said.

  "You made me spill my drink on my tray," Moose accused.

  Saiko shook his head. "I didn't touch you when I passed. It might have been someone else."

  "Never mind the excuses. Get over here and clean it up. And then go get me another drink."

  Saiko shook his head. "It was not my fault," he said, and turned to go.

  Moose was reputed to have a short fuse even at the best of times-and this wasn't one of them. Saiko's blunt refusal was barely out of his mouth when Moose leaped across the intervening distance and caught Saiko's upper arm in a painful-looking grip. "Damn it, I said clean it up!" He yanked, pulling Saiko toward him- And with a stupendous crash, Moose hit the floor two meters away.

  The snickering which had started at Saiko's expense vanished like beer at a picnic, leaving the whole room in stunned silence. Moose rolled to his feet and turned back to face Saiko, his face a dangerous shade of red. "Damn you," he said softly. "You're gonna regret that." And then he charged.

  Saiko set down his tray, which had by some miracle survived the first clash, and waited. Moose launched a punch that should have sent Saiko across the room; instead, the smaller man leaned aside, caught the arm and spun around... and, somehow, Moose was again on the floor.
r />   Saiko stood aside and waited... and Moose proceeded to prove his nickname didn't just refer to his size.

  He got up and tried again, this time throwing two fast savage kicks and a punch in rapid succession.

  Saiko evaded both kicks and again caught the punching fist. With a brief intertwining of arms, Moose again hit the deck. This time Saiko went down into a crouch next to him; and, though the tables blocked my view, I could hear Moose swearing and struggling to get up.

  Just about then I suddenly broke out of my fascinated paralysis. "Ten-HUT!" I shouted.

  There was a loud scramble of chairs as all the Enforcers shot to their feet. The two combatants were a second behind the others and I beckoned them forward. Moose, I noted, was panting somewhat and massaging his right wrist, but was otherwise unmarked. Saiko wasn't even breathing hard.

  Technically, I wasn't in the brigade's chain of command. So, short of squealing on them to Major Eldjarn, there was little I could do in way of punishment. So I gave them both a stern warning about saving their strength for the Falkren, told Saiko to report to my quarters later, and let everyone go back to lunch.

  Saiko showed up half an hour later. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

  "At ease, Saiko, and have a seat."

  He did so. "Sir, I must apologize for my part in the fight-"

  "Forget it. He deserved what he got. But I wanted to ask you-what the blazes you were using on him?"

  "It's called Aikido, sir. It's an ancient Japanese martial art which uses an opponent's strength and movements against him."

  "Like jujitsu?" I knew that Enforcer training included a smattering of that.

  "In some ways. Aikido is-" he hesitated-"gentler, I suppose. We don't attempt to block an attack with our own strength, but to evade the blow, allowing it to continue and then joining with the movement and redirecting it. An Aikidoka, you see, seeks to subdue his opponent without harming him. Most other martial arts, including jujitsu, strive to defeat the opponent with more forceful and potentially damaging methods."

  A memory clicked. "Is Aikido what you meant when you talked about defense without injury?"

  He nodded. "As you pointed out, sir, the philosophy of peace and oneness would quickly die out if its followers could not protect themselves. It is said that a master of Aikido is untouchable, no matter how many men attack him."

  "Are you a master?"

  Saiko dropped his gaze to the floor and smiled faintly. "I have studied the art for seventeen years. The founder of Aikido, Morihei Uyeshiba, spent over forty years in practice and always considered himself merely a student."

  The legendary Oriental patience, I thought wryly-something modern man could use a lot more of. A little less hurried impatience might save us a lot of fighting on worlds like Falkwade. "I understand."

  "Will that be all, sir?"

  "Yes. You can go now."

  I saw Saiko off and on during the rest of the trip, though he never came to my quarters again to talk. He still seemed to have no real friends among the other Enforcers, but their general attitude was considerably more respectful toward him than it had been earlier. Enforcer nicknames, once given, tend to stick. So I noted with some amusement that "Love-and-kisses" Saiko was tacitly changed to the less obviously insulting "L.K." Saiko. It was a small step, but Saiko seemed satisfied.

  more respectful toward him than it had been earlier. Enforcer nicknames, once given, tend to stick. So I noted with some amusement that "Love-and-kisses" Saiko was tacitly changed to the less obviously insulting "L.K." Saiko. It was a small step, but Saiko seemed satisfied.

  Major Eldjarn and I were in the first shuttle down and were driven immediately to the contact team's prefab, looking out of place among the interwoven-branch huts of the village's four hundred-odd Falkren and the seventy humans who now resided here. Several of the natives-each one the size of Moose Cabral and reasonably human-looking-could be seen working at various tasks.

  "I'm glad to have you here," Colonel David Sherwood, the contact team's commander, said when the military formalities were out of the way. "We've lost four men in the past two days alone, all but one from villagers down the coast. Fresh Enforcers should help morale a bit."

  "I thought the villages were safe," Eldjarn said, frowning.

  "The villages are, yes. But we can't sit around all day doing nothing. We send out an average of three survey teams a day via aircar. Almost the minute they land anywhere there are neuters running at them with those long knives of theirs and shooting those damn crossbows. It doesn't matter how far we are from here, either-the word seems to have gotten out to the whole planet. Even clans that usually fight each other are willing to join forces against us." Sherwood shook his head. "We use scatterguns, exploders, and even heavy lasers on them, kill them by the dozens-and they still keep coming. Don't they understand that they can't beat us, that we have the whip hand on this planet?"

  Saiko's words about dominance and conflict flashed briefly through my mind. "Perhaps they refuse to be dominated by us."

  Eldjarn snorted. "How do you 'refuse' to be dominated?"

  "By fighting back," I told him. "The neuters must know that you can't kill too many of them without losing whatever good will you have among the females."

  "Lieutenant Hillary is right," Sherwood admitted. "Killing neuters is eventually equivalent to killing males, and the females won't put up with too much of that. We don't dare kill except in self-defense, and even that's dangerous. The neuters have both time and numbers on their side."

  "Have you tried to find out why the neuters don't want us around?" I asked.

  "They shoot at anyone who tries to go out and talk to them. About all we can do is talk to the males, try to get them to take truce offers out there when they change to neuter. So far it hasn't worked; we don't know why. Dr. Ariyoshi, our alien psychologist, suggested the memory of what we said to them might not survive the change. So we've been trying to catch one of them right after the change, before he can leave the village, and drum in some instructions. So far they've gotten out too quickly for us. All of Ariyoshi's notes will be available to you-I hope you can make something out of them. The doctor himself chose this time to come down with some viral infection. He was flown off-planet last week for treatment."

  Sherwood seemed to consider it a personal insult that Ariyoshi had gotten sick. "Corporal Snyder outside will take you to Ariyoshi's hut; you might as well bunk there for now. Study the stuff he's done and work out some kind of plan to stop the neuter harassment of us. This has been going on for almost two years, and I'm getting tired of it. Results, Lieutenant-I want results." outside will take you to Ariyoshi's hut; you might as well bunk there for now. Study the stuff he's done and work out some kind of plan to stop the neuter harassment of us. This has been going on for almost two years, and I'm getting tired of it. Results, Lieutenant-I want results."

  It took me nearly a week to go through the material Ariyoshi had collected-he hadn't organized it for someone else to use, and I had to do a lot of digging-and while it was interesting, I didn't get any brilliant ideas from it. For obvious reasons most of his studies covered only the males and females and their interrelationship. It was fascinating reading; humanity has few martriarchal cultures left, and none where the females so completely dominate the males. But little if any of it gave me any clues about even the basics of neuter psychology, let alone what sort of threats or inducements might stop their attacks. While Ariyoshi had been convinced that a thread of consciousness ran through the male/neuter change, he'd been unable to determine how much memory or personality was transferred along this thread.

  I was mulling over the problem one evening as I sat outside Ariyoshi's hut sipping a native drink that was reminiscent of strong limeade. In front of me was a small open area on the edge of the village where some of the male Falkren liked to relax after their day's labors. Fifty or so were here this particular evening, and the still air was full of both their scent and their quiet conversation. Only on
e other human was visible.

  Saiko, sitting cross-legged on the far side of the open space, was talking earnestly to a large male.

  I watched with only mild interest. Saiko, I'd heard, was spending much of his off-duty time trying to sell his philosophy to as many of the Falkren males as he could corner. To me it was obvious that he was trying to implant the teachings in the hope that they would survive through the change; to the rest of the Enforcers the whole idea of preaching peace to the peaceful was both amusing and demeaning, and once again Saiko was the butt of jokes and scorn. After what had looked like the first steps back toward peer acceptance on the transport, I was discouraged by this return to pariah status, especially since I saw little hope for his project. Most of the Falkren of this village understood English by now, though they were not properly equipped to speak it, but Ariyoshi's notes made it clear that they were totally uninterested in anything human except for the gifts we gave them.

  I suppose that if I'd been paying more attention I would have seen the change coming; certainly Ariyoshi's notes had described the syndrome in sufficient detail. As it was, I was as startled as Saiko when the Falki he was talking to abruptly scooped up a small stool and hurled it straight at the seated Enforcer.

  Saiko's reflexes were excellent, but even so the stool caught his left arm as he threw himself to the right.

  He was on his feet in another second, just in time to catch the-now-neuter Falki's lunge. Ducking under the first swinging arm, he caught the the other arm, twisted-and was hurled to the ground.

  I gaped, and even as I jumped to my feet and yanked my scattergun from its holster, I understood what had happened. Saiko's Aikido tricks were designed for human anatomy. Falki muscles, joints, and bodily dimensions were subtly different-enough so, clearly, that Aikido was useless against the natives. And Saiko wasn't wearing his scattergun. Cursing under my breath, I ran forward through the crowd of Falkren who were trying to get out of the way of the fighting. But by the time I had a clear shot it was too late. Saiko was back on his feet and the neuter was grabbing for him-far too close for my mediocre marksmanship. By all the rules this shouldn't be happening at all; I was almost sure they were still in the village proper, where the neuters weren't supposed to fight us. But there were no females here to claim authority, or maybe the neuter knew better than I how the zigzag boundary really ran. Whatever the reason, Saiko was in big trouble, and he would have to take one more fall before I could help him.

 

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