Taji From Beyond the Rings

by R. Cooper

  Whatever Trenne had been thinking in those moments, he’d had his hand near the weapon strapped to his thigh, and he hadn’t corrected Nev when he’d addressed him by a different title. He was new to his rank.

  But Trenne had said those words as if there was nothing he was more certain of—Taji would learn the language, and Sergeant Major Trenne would take care of everything else. He’d held Taji’s gaze until Taji had finally nodded. Then the flier swooped to a lower altitude, and they were preparing to land, and Taji began his new, strange life with a pounding heart and slightly less fear than he’d felt a few hours before.

  He knew enough about Trenne now to know Trenne had meant every word he’d said. So Taji took a deep breath and pushed away his exhaustion to focus on his reading. He still had his half of the bargain to uphold.

  HE CAME TO with a jolt, the way he always did after falling asleep in public, and wiped at his chin in case he’d drooled. He looked around blearily, his head at a weird angle. Nadir was stretched out over several seats, coat on his chest, a DD in his hands. The light of the screen seemed brighter than usual since someone had dimmed the lights in the compartment to allow the team some time to sleep.

  Taji slapped a hand to his lap in search of his data device, only to belatedly remember he had propped it up on the back of the seat in front of him, using some sort of safety rigging as a harness to hold it in place.

  The screen was lit, so he couldn’t have been asleep for long. He blinked, glancing at the line of Trenne’s jaw with sleepy pleasure. “Hey,” he murmured, voice husky, then sat up so fast his vision filled with sparkles.

  He looked around for witnesses. Lin was awake and stretching at the far end of the compartment. She’d probably heard him, but she didn’t glance in his direction.

  Taji coughed. “Trenne?” He was not imagining Trenne one seat away from him, playing Bilrochian Checkers on a data device instead of sleeping. Taji kept his voice down. “What are you doing here?” He did not ask why Trenne was awake. The answer would be “There were things to see to” or something similar. “Not that I mind,” Taji added, when he realized he might have come off as rude, although he obviously didn’t mind Trenne near him.

  “I’m not one of them anymore.” Trenne moved a game piece, and several of the computer’s pieces were added to his pile of conquests. He paused the game. “And the ambassador is resting.”

  “Ah.” Taji gave him a sad, sympathetic smile. Trenne was no longer just another soldier, but he felt more comfortable with the team than in the front compartment with the ambassador. “I’m very familiar with the feeling of belonging nowhere.” He grimaced at the too-honest answer, and focused on Lin’s quick look at him rather than Trenne’s face. “Don’t mind me.”

  He reached for his data device and vowed to stay awake this time.

  “You should sleep,” Trenne remarked, apparently seeing right through Taji’s determined act.

  “You should sleep,” Taji told him around a yawn and continued his progress through the reign of Oleas Ki’ith Emperor, of some relation to the Olea but not a direct ancestor. The trouble with the information he’d been given was that Ki’ith Emperor ruled so long ago that the version of ‘Asha used was remarkably different. Ki’ith had been female—or not—and ruled until married—or not. Something had taken them from the public eye, and for once, it hadn’t been murder. Ki’ith had ruled, and then someone else had ruled without the formal title of emperor, and then several years later, Ki’ith had returned. Apparently with a vengeance, because that was when rivals had been purged in a way that the writer of the original document seemed to approve of since it showed signs of Ki’ith’s honor.

  Taji was possibly very tired and reading that wrong. He pulled up some new topics he’d set aside, then glanced over again. Lin had finished her stretches and was rearranging the multiple knives she evidently tucked into her fatigues. So she did follow ‘Asha custom even in uniform. That meant Trenne deliberately didn’t or was using his tactical knife as an ornamental one.

  Trenne had given up checkers in favor of bintoh—or bunto, which was how most humans pronounced it. The game involved a grid, and points, and math. The fact that Trenne played bintoh—and, it seemed, played it well—made Taji expel a hungry little sigh. Trenne probably had strategy games from every system on that device and excelled at all of them, and yet if Taji asked, Trenne would say they were just ways to pass the time.

  “You did not eat before you left,” Trenne observed, although he hadn’t been in the house this morning which meant someone—Nev—had ratted Taji out. Trenne scored another few points. “We should have woken you earlier.”

  “I wasn’t asleep!” Taji insisted, because that was important. He kept his voice low, out of consideration for Markita’s light snores and Rodian’s peaceful, resting face. “I was working. I didn’t have time to eat.”

  Without looking up from the screen, Trenne reached down into the kit at his feet. A moment later, he held up a packet of dried fruit in Taji’s direction.

  Taji crossed his arms without accepting it. The packet stayed right where it was while he glared his insistence that he could take care of himself. He had fed himself all through school and during every previous IPTC assignment.

  Trenne countered by pausing his game and looking over. His eyes were ridiculously warm and lovely, far too delicate for someone as armed as he was.

  Because he was hungry, and for no other reason, Taji reached out and took the fruit.

  Trenne resumed his game, his ears up and flicking toward Taji at the first crinkle of the bag.

  It occurred to Taji, as he messily chewed a handful of what were almost blueberries except they weren’t blue and were sort of mealy, that he and Trenne had a lot of silent conversations. He blamed that on Trenne, who needed an interpreter for his ears alone. “I don’t even like blueberries,” he complained around his second handful.

  “You once ate stale bread you found in your pocket because you did not want to get up in order to find fresh food,” Trenne commented blandly, but reached down and grabbed another packet.

  “Starflowers!” Taji whisper-shouted in delight, and chortled as he opened the bag. He let one thinly sliced piece of starflower melt on his tongue before he spoke again. “Thank you. I’ll try not to eat them all.”

  Starflowers were pricy because they came from another continent on Mirsa, so since most of the team wasn’t willing to spend their credits on fruit, Taji was the first offworlder on the team to discover them. But he couldn’t often talk himself into buying them, even though he rarely left the house and didn’t need his credits for much.

  Trenne made a vague motion with one hand and swept an ear in Taji’s direction, as if to say the cost didn’t matter. Taji waited, another starflower melting like an ice crystal on his tongue, until both ears flicked toward him. He continued to say nothing until Trenne put down the game he’d already won and turned to him.

  “Thank you,” Taji said again. Trenne looked him over, almost approving of the smile on Taji’s face before his attention fell to the screen of Taji’s data device. Taji looked down at the display of information on Shavian physiology and froze. “Anatomy affects speech patterns, so it’s relevant. It affects history, too, which also affects language. But even if it didn’t, this is all stuff it’s good to know. I live here for the foreseeable future. I probably should have looked all this up when you first brought me here, but I was sulking. And panicking. I did some of that, too.”

  Lin’s ears moved back and forth, pointedly. Her eyes were closed as she settled down in her seat and still she gave him shit.

  Taji briefly glared at her. “Speaking of Lin,” he began. Lin twitched. Trenne began a new game, but his ears said Taji had his attention. Taji lowered his voice even more. “You don’t…you wouldn’t feel more comfortable next to her, if not the others?” Lin had also had a sudden promotion with Trenne, and she was Shavian. “Or is it…can I ask about—about what they called you the other n
ight?”

  Lin didn’t react to that but Trenne paused with his hand over the screen of his game.

  “So, I, uh,” Taji quickly continued. “So, in most languages, a comparison to an animal is an insult unless it’s a specific animal—something with attributes seen as positive. But the general use of animal is… Shavian culture is obsessed with self-control, so that seemed…” Taji put down the packet of dried starflowers. “I thought they were drunk and rude that night, but then the emperor…” Taji shut himself up but only for a second. “Your coloration.”

  “Taji.” Trenne exhaled his name in a way that was almost sad.

  “Is beautiful,” Taji finished softly, then shot a quick look to Lin, who was either asleep now or faking it. “So I looked into it. Hurat?” he tried out the pronunciation carefully, softening the ‘t’ sound. “That’s not an ‘Asha word.”

  “Hurat.” Trenne’s ‘t’ sound was crisp. “It is not.”

  “Older than them, right?” Taji looked down. “There are few extant languages on this continent other than ‘Asha. That word wasn’t in the dictionaries IPTC compiled. However, there are words with that same harder ‘t’, along with different words for things like “tree.” Words that have stayed in use, not arrived here, right?” Taji cleared his throat. “Everyone talks about the Conquest, but they don’t mention who was conquered.” He hurried on. “My point being, Lin isn’t like that, like you. But she doesn’t call you…that.”

  “Taji.” Trenne stopped him. “I have heard it many times.”

  Taji waved a hand uselessly. “It’s going in the translator files with annotations that it’s slur bullshit. B’lyad. IPTC shouldn’t have sent you here under these conditions.”

  Trenne let out a long breath, then turned to face him. Considering how tired he had to be, Trenne’s gaze was sharp and intent. “I have never given them cause to believe I am an animal. And I will not.”

  “That, I believe.” Taji tipped the packet of starflowers toward Trenne and kept his eyebrows up until Trenne held out his hand to accept some. Starflowers were fucking amazing. Trenne should have some before Taji ate them all. “You, Trenne, have more of their precious self-control than some of their nobles do. You should have seen Koel Phyta. He tried, but he couldn’t even approach your level.”

  “The noble families—” Trenne abruptly went silent.

  “No, no, no. Don’t stop,” Taji whined softly. “Tell me. The information the nobles give us isn’t going to have anything useful. You know better.” He took a wicked pleasure in how that got Trenne’s ear to go flat.

  But Trenne chose to indulge him. “The nobles,” he began again, very quietly, “repeat the things they were taught. But it has been a long time since any of them have had to defend their values. Most of them would crumble under pressure, no matter how old their house, or who in their family bloodied their feet in the Conquest.”

  Taji leaned closer. “Did your, um…did your people also fight barefoot?”

  It was a natural question, but Trenne’s ears went flat again. He glanced down. “That is not taught.”

  “Not…” Taji shook his head. “Of course it isn’t taught. They do not like to share information with the lower classes, do they? It doesn’t mean the knowledge isn’t out there, though. You just have to look harder for it, look for where the evidence is missing, like with all these emperors who didn’t rule for very long. I’m starting to get a feel for the way Shavian writers and storytellers leave hints instead of being direct. Although I’m still missing so much.” Taji perked up. “Should I add that to my research pile? I’m not an archeologist, but I could probably find some things—if I ever get a free moment.”

  “It would do nothing to bring that up now.” Trenne caught his excited gaze and Taji instantly sobered. “It will not help you deal with the nobles.”

  “But it might help you.” Taji frowned at him. “And it won’t cost me anything but a bit of sleep.”

  “Our culture is dead, Taji.” Trenne said that evenly. “And until this assignment, I had no plans to return here.”

  The thing about Shavians using even voices was that it was all a cover. The ambassador had finally clued Taji in on the game.

  “If you tell me no, I won’t look into it,” Taji promised without looking away from Trenne’s eyes. He distantly wondered how long it had taken Trenne to adjust to the levels of eye contact that some humans demanded. “But no culture is completely dead as long as it’s remembered and its words are still spoken, Trenne.”

  Trenne, with no before name, with a hard ‘t’ sound and an unusual ‘e’ at the end. Trenne was not a Sha name.

  “There is a reason nobles paint their walls with murals of their ancestors,” Taji continued. “It’s to be remembered. To live on. To stay present. There are always record keepers, which is really what I am. If I put everything I know into my files, every scientist and diplomat that does business with IPTC will know of them. More importantly, I could tell you everything I learn.”

  Trenne’s eyes went wide, startled. Taji couldn’t even crow about his victory. “You do not have to.”

  “Trenne.” Taji clucked his tongue. “I know I don’t have to.” The soft surprise on Trenne’s face was going to be Taji’s undoing. He wanted to see that look more often, and he didn’t usually get what he wanted. “But I will—provided I survive all this.”

  He tried a smile, realized that deep down he was still too nervous for that to be successful, and then that he was leaning toward Trenne. He sat up and fiddled with the packet of starflowers.

  Trenne’s stare had weight. “It is my job to make sure you do.”

  Taji gave him a careful glance. “Ambassador Tsomyal is more important than Taji Ameyo, human translation device. Do you know why androids can’t work as translators?” He tried to move the subject away from the danger he might be in. “Because they’re just like the devices. They have too hard a time reading words and tone and volume and body language and cultural context. But most sentients that communicate verbally have learned those skills so deeply it’s like breathing. The only real trick is getting the different cultures down.”

  Trenne leaned over, although with his reach he didn’t need to lean, and pushed the bag of starflowers until Taji took another one. “It’s our assigned task to protect the ambassador,” he gestured toward his mostly asleep team members, “and the ambassador’s household.” Trenne fixed the seat in front of him with a cold, hard stare. “If something happens, stick close to Tsomyal. That is where the team will be. Stay with them.”

  “Yes, Trenne,” Taji sighed, as though if something dangerous happened he wouldn’t be right behind all the big soldiers with weapons. Trenne was waiting, apparently for more, so Taji nodded and resisted the urge to salute. “Understood. But…you aren’t just idly saying that, are you?”

  Trenne released a breath. “Yesterday…” He looked at Taji. He was always serious, but this felt more intense, perhaps because of the dark or how their voices were low. This was not a conversation Trenne wanted the others to hear. “You were alarmed.”

  “Alarmed is a strong word.” Taji thought he’d been reasonably put together considering he’d been a witness to a vaguely treasonous meeting and then its discovery by the emperor himself. “I’ve never met an emperor before. Maybe that’s normal. Maybe he is the baseline for what emperors are.”

  Trenne reached for him, then pulled his hand back. “Taji.”

  “I don’t know royalty!” Taji groaned. “I could be wrong!”

  “Taji,” Trenne said again, patient but firm, “I need to know all I can, and you suspect something. You are more than a device. What did he say that bothered you?”

  “It wasn’t only him.” Taji bit his lip as he considered. “If you…if you believe me. It was… his words, or him. Maybe there is a current cultural meaning I missed. But Larin walked in with an unsheathed knife, and he asked questions as if anyone could give anything other than the answer he wanted. A yes isn’t a
yes if there isn’t a comfortable way to say no. He doesn’t like humans, which, okay, so some sentients don’t like us, fine. IPTC is kind of our fault. But he…” Taji scowled “He called you that word. Then he made us come to this place. There wasn’t a choice, and everyone knew it, but he acted as though there was, as though this was a gift and not, I don’t know, a poisoned apple.” He sighed noisily when he could see Trenne trying to process what that phrase meant. “It means something that looks like a nice gift, but is really meant to harm you. I don’t know the origin. An apple was some sort of edible fruit.”

  “Poisoned fruit?” Trenne’s confusion quickly turned to determination like hardstone. “Stay close to the ambassador, and the team.” Trenne leaned in again. “Tell me, please, if anything else bothers you, if he bothers you. Taji,” Trenne was so close, “do not be alone with the emperor.”

  Taji took a shaky breath, nodded, then frowned. “Why would he be alone with me? I’m basically a servant.”

  “You are not a servant.” Trenne looked at him, then away. “You’re a human offworlder, educated, and IPTC. You are not a noble, but they do not know what you are. They will try to treat you as a servant, or a lesser noble, until you make them see otherwise.”