by Cari Z.
“I did not plan my son’s infatuation with you,” she continued. “But I’m not sorry that it happened. Ferran has always been a difficult pup to place. He is too sensitive, he is too…. He should have been a daughter,” she said with a discontented twitch of her nose. “That would have allowed him to be in the central position of whatever family he brought to himself. Ferran wants to be everything to everyone, but no one has the energy for that, and he would be destined to fail. With you, though, he can be everything you need—or try at least—and have a chance of succeeding.”
“You’ve put a lot of pressure on him.”
“True,” Grenn admitted somberly. “It is a source of personal shame that I only produced two viable pups myself. Most matriarchs have a dozen over their life, and at least one in that dozen should be a female. I failed in that respect, and so relied even more than I should have on my sons, who also were born with the shame of being infertile. It was easier for Ferran before his brother died, but… now there is only him. My death would have spelled the end of my House, and Ferran would have been assimilated into another family. But now,” Grenn smiled again, and she couldn’t have looked any more smug, “there is you as well. My second son, Ferran’s consort. You put bold new options into play, Jason, and if things go as I hope they will, then the future of Perelan will shift onto a more progressive course.”
“Would you care to explain that?” Jason asked. As an only child himself, he was no stranger to high parental expectations, but there were layers of detail he was simply ignorant of here.
Apparently Grenn wasn’t in the mood to give him any satisfaction on that score, either. “Not yet. It would only confuse you right now. You have much to learn, Jason Kim Howards Grenn, and absolutely no time to waste doing so. I have prepared a schedule for you today.” She passed him an actual piece of paper, with names and times written on it.
“We will start with your abysmal language skills. You need to learn to read and write Perel in addition to understanding it, so you will spend two hours a day in private tutoring with Matriarch Jlinn. She is a sister of my line, and is happy to have the opportunity to work with you. Neyarr and Garrell are responsible for your adaptation to our environment and controlled introduction to our people, so after languages, you will spend your afternoons with them until their wedding to Ylenn prevents them from assisting you. Your human mother wants to see you daily after she is done with Ferran, to see how your integration is progressing. So after my nephews have you, you will be brought to the Council House and seen to there. In the evenings—”
“When am I going to see Ferran?” Jason asked dryly. “I notice that you don’t have that written in.”
“You and my son will share the night and the early morning. Remember, Jason, that he has just as much to learn as you if he is to be validated as Perelan’s ambassador to the Federation after your year here is up. He has classes of his own to attend. Your evenings,” she continued, “will include at least an hour of teaching your least offensive skills—two hours, once you are proficient enough to work with the larger population. We have a thirty hour day,” she reminded him, probably feeling Jason’s disbelief at being able to cram all this in. “It should be sufficient.”
“You’re also nocturnal and sleep until the sun is almost down,” Jason pointed out.
“True. Yesterday, the Council made an exception by meeting with you and Howards during the daytime. Do not worry, though. Your body will adapt. I only use the terms morning, noon, and night because they are what you understand.” Grenn stood to her full height—not even as high as Jason’s shoulder—and raised her chin proudly. “Soon you will understand our words for the many phases of night. Never fear, my son, your ignorance will diminish quickly with the help of your new family. Now, we must get you to Matriarch Jlinn.” She turned toward the gong sitting beside her chair.
“Wait,” Jason said. Grenn stopped and looked at him. “I have a meeting scheduled with you every day. Is that really necessary?”
“How else can I judge your progress?” Grenn asked. “Who else will you ask the difficult questions? Naturally, we must meet. I look forward to learning more about you, Jason.” She rang the gong, and the reverberations traveled through its base and out from the floor.
A moment later someone knocked on the door.
“Be welcome.”
Neyarr entered, looking entirely too entertained. “Matriarch?”
“Take Jason to his language lesson.”
“Yes, Matriarch.” He nodded respectfully, then tapped a foot and stared at Jason until Jason took the hint and stood up.
“And the communicator?” Jason persisted. “For getting in touch with Ferran?”
“It will be delivered to your den this evening,” Grenn promised. “Along with one for him. Good-bye, my son. Have a productive day.”
“I will.”
As soon as the door shut behind them, Neyarr’s barely restrained excitement won out over his dutifulness. The ends of his ears quivered with energy, and his quills were flexing and relaxing along his spine like a wave. “What did she say?”
“A lot.”
“About what?” Neyarr asked eagerly, leading Jason down a hall. This one was painted in shades of orange, peach, and pink, and the light seemed to pulse through it. It reminded Jason uncomfortably of a womb. “What did she say about your classes? What will you be teaching us?”
“I don’t think anyone knows yet,” Jason sighed. “I didn’t get much of a chance to prepare anything.”
“I thought that would be a challenge for you,” Neyarr said knowingly as he led Jason through the large audience chamber. It was empty now, lit only with dim fungal glows. They threaded between the tables and headed down another hallway. Not for the first time since his arrival, Jason wished all of these tunnels had numbers or something. The last thing he wanted was to become lost. “You are not toothless. You would not be much fun if you were, but the Council only wants gentleness from you, not ferocity.”
“I’m not ferocious,” Jason protested. He truly wasn’t, despite his extracurricular activities. He had never, not since he was a small child, truly lost control of himself. Jason always prided himself on his reserve and his capacity for self-policing—for being able to interact with anyone and avoid losing his temper, no matter how obnoxious or offensive they were.
“Not yet,” Neyarr replied knowingly. “But you could be. Ferran knows it, and I’m sure his mother does.”
“And how do you know it?” Jason asked.
“My brother and I are Ferran’s closest friends. Who else would he open his heart to while you two were apart?” They stopped outside of a door with a glowing circle above it. “This is Matriarch Jlinn’s instruction hall. You are fortunate to have her—she was going to return to the space station last month, but Matriarch Grenn asked for her to stay, for your sake. She may beat you a little, but only because she wants you to improve.”
“Did she beat you?” Jason asked, not sure he believed any of these pampered children had ever been smacked in their lives.
Neyarr grinned. “All the time.”
THE INSTRUCTION hall was an even golden tone and built so that noise resonated within it. Matriarch Jlinn was a slightly taller, slightly thinner version of Grenn, but the terseness of her voice and the stiffness of her posture were clear indicators that she wasn’t entirely happy to be there. The thin, whippy rod in her hand was the other indicator, and she didn’t stint to lay it down across the back of Jason’s hands or the points of his shoulders. It didn’t really hurt, but it felt like a tool meant for recalcitrant children, and Jason didn’t like being included in that group.
“Too bad,” Jlinn snapped, not even bothering to conceal that she was reading Jason’s emotions. He hadn’t even needed to speak to set her off. She had the most human-sounding voice of any Perel he’d ever met, which clearly spoke to her abilities, but it didn’t make him appreciate her any more. “You have less skill than an infant! You must pull t
he sounds from your diaphragm and let them out slowly, not overwhelm them with breath.”
“I am,” Jason said evenly.
“You are not, and I should know. Look, this is the word.” She wrote it on a tablet and handed it over to him. The symbols that Perels used to write were similar to the way Korean sounds were grouped into blocks that made symbols, and Jason thought he could figure them out fairly quickly. He copied it down when she impatiently tapped the tablet.
“Good. Now speak it.” She let the word rumble out of her throat. Jason tried to mimic her, but after the first two syllables, Jlinn’s disgust was back.
“No! Your human mother speaks Perel better than you, and her voice is a full octave higher!” She straightened her shoulders and looked squarely at Jason. “I will not go easy on you simply because my matriarch thinks well of you. You will shame your new family to be heard speaking this way.”
“I’ve only been here for a day,” Jason pointed out.
“And you should have been given to me when you first arrived!” She slapped his forearm with the rod. “Again.”
And so it went. Two hours stretched into three, Jlinn absolutely refusing to let Jason leave until he had pronounced at least one word correctly. He went with hello, thinking it would be the most useful in the short term. And while it left his throat feeling like someone had stuck an ion welder down his mouth and jostled it between his tonsils, he did eventually get hello to an acceptable level of gruff.
“Practice tonight,” Jlinn admonished him as he stood up. “Tomorrow you will repeat it for me perfectly, or you will suffer it again.”
Suffering words. It certainly did feel like suffering, having to force those words through his throat. Jason wondered if Jlinn had any idea just how accurate her description was for him. He left her to an incoming group of pups, who blushed up to the tips of their ears when they saw him.
“You are such a celebrity,” Neyarr teased him as they headed into the audience chamber. It seemed to double as the dining room, but his extra hour spent with Jlinn meant that Jason had missed the rush. It was just him and Ney, and fortunately, Ney was in the mood to be kind. He got Jason a plate of dark brown grain, covered with a green and red sauce that was only slightly slimy, and a cup of the milky tea that seemed to accompany most Perel meals. Jason liked the taste of it—slightly nutty and a little sweet.
“Where does it come from?”
“Sap,” Neyarr replied, sipping from his own cup. “From the lhossa tree. Every family taps and brews their own. The House of Grenn brews it the sweetest, because our matriarch likes it that way.”
“Everyone drinks their tea the same way as the matriarch?” Jason asked. “Just because she likes it like that?”
“In her house, tea is drunk her way. The foods we eat are her preferences.” Neyarr frowned a little. “Is there nothing like this where you come from?”
“The military is similar,” Jason said, remembering meal replacement bars whenever they were deployed. “But at home there’s usually a little more variety.”
“The children are served separately, given the things that will make them strong, but for the rest of us… if we want to eat differently, we must go out.” He grinned suddenly. “We can walk to the Council House this evening. There are restaurants and teahouses in the city center that provide variety. Do you have any money yet?”
“Not that I know of.”
“That’s all right. Every restaurant runs a tab for each different family, and no one will refuse to serve a member of the House of Grenn, not even…. And you’ll be able to try out your new words.”
“I have a translation device for a reason,” Jason pointed out, but it was a half-hearted protest. He knew he needed to practice speaking Perel, but he wasn’t looking forward to it.
“It is raining,” Neyarr said, smoothly ignoring Jason’s moment of pique. “You will need something more than these clothes. A… slicker? Is it called a slicker?”
“That’s one word for it.”
“There is a spare for you in my den. Garr is there as well. He can come to town with us. It would be better for you to have an escort right now.”
Jason sat back and looked at the young Perel sitting across from him. Neyarr was trying to act as though everything was fine, but Jason had lived long enough that he knew when someone was keeping something from him. “Neyarr, what could go wrong if I went into Berenze without you?”
“Nothing,” Neyarr said quickly. “No one would dare hurt you.”
“But they might do other things. Like refuse to serve me? Refuse to speak to me? Point me in the wrong direction if I got lost?”
Neyarr was flushing now, dropping his eyes.
Jason sighed and then reached over and touched Neyarr’s hand. “It’s okay if that’s what will happen. I just need to know the truth. I need to be prepared for the worst if I can’t have you or your brother or Ferran with me.” He paused for a moment and then added, “I don’t expect everyone to like me, Ney, and it won’t bother me if that’s the case.”
The use of his nickname seemed to soothe Neyarr, who lifted his eyes again and shrugged slightly. “Some people are upset by you. They don’t think you belong here. Others don’t object to humans, per se, but they disagreed with….” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Disagreed with the matriarch’s decision to give her son to you. Garrell told you that Ferran’s marriage contract would be worth a great deal, didn’t he?” Jason nodded. “The families who were offering for him were upset to see him given to an alien—especially the House of Tlann. They are not happy with the matriarch or with you.”
“What does not happy mean?” Jason asked, but Neyarr was already shaking his head.
“We have already lost time. It will take over an hour to walk to the Council House, and your next appointment is in only two hours.” He stood up and took Jason’s cup away. “Let’s go get Garrell.”
THE TWINS’ den was very different from Ferran’s at first glance. The colors were almost all shades of red, and there were no couches, just growths jutting out of the floor like beanbags, furniture that could be completely remodeled with a hard enough push. They did have a holo emitter set into one wall, something that Jason hadn’t expected, and Garrell was watching a human romance movie when Jason and Neyarr arrived.
“Larissa Child,” Jason noted. “That one’s a classic of hers.”
“She is very pretty,” Garrell said. “For a human.”
“We have most of her movies,” Neyarr added as he sat down next to his brother and kissed his cheek. “We have to watch them all before the wedding.”
“Because afterwards, you’ll be too busy?”
“Afterwards, we won’t be allowed,” Garrell grumbled, making Ney pull on the ends of his ears.
“Our future wife is more conservative than our matriarch,” Neyarr explained to Jason. “Her mother is a moderate on the Council. Our marriage contract will allow us to keep a certain amount of time free to continue educating you, and to receive knowledge from you in turn, but alien items used solely for entertainment are not allowed.”
“What about educational films?”
“Those are boring,” Garrell sniffed.
Neyarr said something to his brother—slowly, so that Jason could hear it. “Enough. It’s time to go. Jason needs a slicker.”
“Give him one of yours.”
“Don’t be a—” The last word was garbled but Jason could gather what it meant. Garrell stood up and went back into another room. When he came out again, he had three dark green, baggy suits that reminded Jason of hazmat gear. Jason took his and looked at it impassively before glancing up at the twins.
Garrell started laughing. “It changes when it gets wet. Don’t worry, you won’t look like a slime.”
“A what?”
“A slime,” Neyarr said.
“Which is a what, exactly?”
“You don’t have slimes on your world?”
“We do,” Jason said cautiousl
y, “but the most they usually amount to is cellular masses in growth dishes. What are yours like?”
“They are a type of animal,” Neyarr explained, “that lives in the forests. Harmless. They only eat the dead.”
“Much better to run into a slime than a… a… scissor mouth?” Garrell said slowly, questioningly, as though he were working through the translation in his mind. “That is a type of plant that hangs in the lowest branches of the tallest trees. It feels the heat of an animal beneath it, and its mouth drops down from the branch and latches on, so fast. Its leaves are like scissors and cut into the animal, so it can inject its venom. The animal falls asleep, and then the scissor mouth hauls it up to the branch and dissolves it. The hardest bones become part of its root system. These plants were greatly feared in our past.”
“Fascinating” was all Jason could think to say. Harmless slimy animals and giant carnivorous plants. Jason had gotten survival training while he was in the military, but he had never been the sort of person to seek out nature on its own terms. That was the wonderful thing about living on Jacksonville: nature came to you, and you could watch it rage at you from the comfort of your own home.
The quickest way outside was up, and the twins showed Jason a set of stairs in the back entrance that led to a garden on the surface. The sky was dark, but Jason could clearly see each and every flower and vine, all of them limned with their own special brands of phosphorescence. Before he could turn to see more, the baggy suit reacted to the rain, shrinking rapidly until it was tight to his skin and clothes. Only his face and hands were still visible. The twins watched him and snickered at his surprise.
“I did tell you,” Garrell said smugly. “This is the House of Grenn’s public garden. The exit over there leads to the street, which we can follow to the center of the city. We aren’t so far away, really.”
“Can you see all right?” Neyarr asked.
Jason looked around again, avoiding the glowing plants for darker sections of the night. “Well enough, I think. You won’t have to carry me.”