The former Prisoner now had companions. Or enemies.
Or food creatures.
Life on the home world was seven times seven times seven cycles in the far past. To the Prisoner, that life was a myth filled with improbable vistas and ridiculous activities. Imagine being able to swim in a straight line for more than a seventh of a cycle! Or to dive to a depth greater than the height of seven of the People!
Nevertheless, for all its skepticism, the Prisoner spoke the language of its ancestors, using the same terms. It was disconcerting to be confronted with situations for which it had no words.
As in this case: There were no other intelligent races on the home world, only the People; other ambulatory beings were divided into food creatures of the sea and enemies from the land.
Which category were the Prisoner’s new companions to be? They were land creatures, and land was traditionally the home of the People’s enemies. But the habitat was not the traditional environment.
Were the land creatures food? Their smell was neutral; their size was acceptable (the Prisoner could easily subdue, then rend one of them). Yet they had provided medical assistance and, far more important, had effectuated an end to imprisonment; social norms required the Prisoner to respond in kind, helping them to communicate, for example.
Attacking and eating them would simply be wrong, especially when the Prisoner still possessed a food source.
The problem remained. The Prisoner was forced to reach into an unused part of its vocabulary to class the companions with smaller, sleeker creatures from the home world that frequently accompanied individual members of the People on food-gathering swims, feasting on creatures the People did not eat.
From a distance, the creatures could have passed for smaller members of the People, except that they possessed only two arms.
That was it: Two Arms.
The encounter with these Two Arms had been troubling for other reasons. First, their speed was exhausting. Second, their anomalous presence; the Prisoner believed it knew all of the races resident in this world, outside the People’s habitat. It and the Connate had been told the stories and shown the images for close to seven different types, from the Air Creatures to the Mud Crawlers.
What was the Two Arms’ relationship to the People? Clearly they knew of them—and showed no overt hostility or fear.
Of course, given the Prisoner’s hostile relationship with its own People, that was hardly to the Two Arms’ credit. The Prisoner was prepared to believe, however, that the Two Arms possessed no detailed knowledge of the People’s activities or conflicts. Likely they had no idea of the Prisoner’s existence until their meeting.
Well, now they did. And the Prisoner was bound to them.
But beyond politeness, the key factor in determining the nature and tenure of the relationship was this:
Did the Two Arms know of the Ravagers? If not, they would soon. Best to act as if they did. It would be best to assume they did.
The vital question was this: Which side would the Two Arms choose? If they chose to be allies, all would be good.
If they chose to be enemies, well, then, with looming regret for the rudeness of repaying kindness with violence, the Two Arms might have to be eliminated and even consumed.
The Prisoner regretted the option, but actions taken by the Connate and the People made such violence inevitable.
The Prisoner’s own relationship with the Ravagers was fraught; it had changed twice, and, given imprisonment and lack of contact, might be non-existent.
No matter. The Prisoner was still forced to act as if nothing had changed during the imprisonment. Understandings had been reached. Courses of action had been decided.
The first required action had been to gain control of the Warship. That, however, would have required time and lack of pursuit.
The Connate and others knew of the Prisoner’s escape and were on the trail already. Reaching the control habitat was no longer possible.
The Prisoner knew that the Ravagers’ ultimate goal was not control of the Warship. That was merely the means.
The Ravagers wanted to activate, then use, the external transport system, to expand their influence and field of operations.
So the plan must be changed.
It was not an easy thing for one of the People. But it was necessary for the Prisoner.
First, the dead habitat must be crossed, a challenge for any member of the People given the lack of water, elements in the atmosphere, and temperatures.
Then contact must be made with the nearest neighbors, the Air Creatures that guarded access to the Warship’s most vital systems.
The Air Creatures were not allies of the People nor of the Ravagers, but the Prisoner might be able to use that hostility to its advantage.
That action was moot until the habitat had been crossed.
And the Two Arms dealt with.