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Liam nodded at the nearest Grandmother as they came into the temple. He felt strange not bowing, but he wouldn’t compromise Ondry’s status by appearing too quick to appease a Grandmother. He actually wasn’t sure if he should bow at all if Ondry claimed the higher tuk status. The lower ranks were missing entirely, and only a few ka-ranked individuals stood around the edges of the room. The tuk-ranked traders and workers all stayed close to the center where curtains of light mimicked the fabric found in a traditional temple on Prarownt. The Li’s temple space was much smaller than on the main ship, but a human shuttle could still park in the area. Because the oldest Rownt were twelve or thirteen feet tall, even their compact ships felt cavernous compared to human structures.
“Tuk-Ondry, Tuk-Palteia Liam,” the eldest Grandmother greeted them.
Liam suspected the constant repetition of Ondry’s title was either some sort of insult—suggesting he needed the status reassurance—or a sign that she had to reinforce the promotion. One day, he would have to bring the subject up with Ondry in private, but for now, he bowed to greet her.
“Grandmother,” Ondry said. “Palteia Zach Mora.”
Mora gave a small smile that mimicked the Rownt expression of pleasure. “Tuk-Ondry. Liam.” His lips parted a little as he looked at Liam, and Liam returned the human smile. His military-short hair had grown out in the weeks since he had joined the Rownt, and he had some crazy cowlicks in back. He reached up and ran his fingers through it, pressing it into some order.
One of the younger Grandmothers offered a quick, “We are discussing leaving.”
“The humans have promised delivery of my goods within the day,” a tuk-ranked trader added.
One of the individuals Liam thought served as an engineer of some sort said, “The Li would have to begin engine preparation within the next hour if you wished to take off by local planet sunset.”
The Li could blast free of the planet with very little preparation, but it would scorch the planet and dump massive quantities of toxic chemicals created by the fast burn. A gentle takeoff required more time.
The Grandmother looked to Liam. “A delay would cause no loss of profit if you wish to visit some place.”
Liam bowed his head toward her. “I am honored by the offer, but I have what I require for happiness on this ship.” After Liam said that, Ondry curled his tail around Liam’s leg.
The eldest Grandmother’s face tightened, radiating approval. After that, a silence fell. They all stood, waiting to see if anyone would bring up any other concerns. Liam leaned against Ondry and studied the others. Now that Ondry stood among the tuk ranks, he was out of place. The youngest tuk was three or four feet taller than Ondry, giving Liam the feeling that he and Ondry were children invited to the adults’ table. Mora was equally out of place, but from the awe on his face, he didn’t mind.
When Liam had first landed on Prarownt, he’d been fascinated by everything Rownt. And then he’d had to go to the trading plazas and had seen the Rownt up close and decided to be terrified instead, but Mora had the advantage of knowing that the Rownt were giant softies when it came to children and palteia. He could break every Rownt taboo, and the worst that would happen was that the Grandmother would put the nictel on him to hold him close.
Eventually the Grandmother turned and walked away, meeting over.
After most of the Rownt had gone about their business, Ondry pulled Liam toward the couches. “We could visit the individuals to whom you have assigned your military salary,” he said.
Liam turned to study Ondry. Nothing in his expression spoke of any distress, but that was an odd offer from a Rownt point of view. “I have no ties to them.”
Ondry widened his nose. “You send your salary to them.”
Liam sighed. Explaining obligation to Rownt was like hitting his head against a brick wall. He could do it over and over, and the wall still didn’t move. “I want them to have a better chance at life, but I don’t have emotional ties to them.”
Ondry studied Mora. “He still has ties to his family and that animal.”
Liam patted Ondry on the leg. “His name is Duke. And we have different lives. He probably will still feel emotional ties to his family, even after he has been with the Grandmother for longer than he lived with his parents.” At least Liam hoped Mora planned to stay with the Grandmother that long. She adored him—that was clear in the way she tracked his movements. Liam knew Ondry was the same, but he never thought about it.
Duke came scrambling over the floor, and Liam ran for the red ball Duke was chasing. The first time Mora had played with the dog, every Rownt in the place had paled in distress. Now they were all pretending to ignore the predator scrambling around the central hall. Liam grabbed the ball seconds before Duke reached it, and then Liam whirled around to find Ondry staring at him with wide eyes and nostrils shut. With Duke jumping in excitement around him, Liam headed back toward the couch before Ondry threw himself across the floor and attacked poor Duke.
Liam held the ball captive and scratched Duke behind the ear. Duke quickly lost interest in the ball and decided he wanted love. Then he shook his head and spittle arced through the air.
“That’s kinda gross. Sorry,” Mora said in English before he switched to Rownt. “I apologize for the inconvenient spit.” It was a sentence Liam had never expected to hear.
Ondry opened his nostrils. It was a polite gesture, but Liam was more interested in Mora. He was putting out nervous signals. When Mora called Duke, the dog leaned against Mora and then sneezed. Liam hadn’t realized dogs were so wet.
“I would walk about the ship,” Mora said. Either he was making an announcement or he hadn’t yet figured out how to conjugate a verb when making a request.
“I would like to walk with you,” Liam said, offering the correct conjugation.
Mora offered him a smile before ducking his head. It was such an un-Rownt gesture that Liam had a moment of dissonance where he had to consciously parse the meaning. Embarrassment was the most likely interpretation, but Liam didn’t know what Mora might find embarrassing.
“I would like that,” Mora said.
Liam could tell Ondry was unhappy by the way his whole body went still. That usually meant he was trying to control an urge to insult someone by twitching his tail. However, when Liam stood, Ondry kept his gaze on the temple, pretending disinterest. Liam loved Ondry for working so hard to give him freedom. Pausing for a second, he rested his hand on Ondry’s fora and smiled at him.
Ondry wrapped his tail around Liam’s calf for a second, but when Liam lifted his hand, Ondry released him. Since Liam didn’t plan to be gone long, he left without any farewell.
“Duke, stay with Grandmother,” Mora told the dog. When he headed toward the exit, Duke followed, and Mora sighed. “Hey, you big lug. I’m not abandoning you. Sit,” he ordered. Duke shifted unhappily, and Mora had to repeat himself twice before Duke’s ears drooped and he sank to the floor with all the grace of a sulky three-year-old. “Good boy. Stay,” Mora said as he backed away.
The Rownt watched the exchange with unvarnished fascination. Liam wondered if the others worried about Duke being a predator, or if Ondry was unique. But that was a conversation for the nest, not for having in public.
Liam followed Mora into the hallway and closed the door behind him before Duke decided to follow. “How’s your family?” Liam asked.
“They’re proud and happy I am not in battle. They’re worried because the ship travels far.” After he apparently strained his Rownt, he finished in English, “So I think they have all the emotions covered.” He gave a small laugh that Liam couldn’t understand. “I am hoping you can help me understand a few...” Mora paused, and in the space of two seconds, Liam’s stress rose exponentially. If he was having a problem with his Grandmother, that would not bode well for his long-term psychological health on a Rownt ship.
“What happened?” Liam asked in English. They didn’t need to amplify any problem by adding miscommunication, and the military taught a version of Rownt that was far from accurate.
Mora leaned against one of the railings and turned to Liam. “Nothing happened. I’m confused by some of the things the Grandmother says.” Mora took a deep breath. “I have to say goodbye to my family today, and she offered to—” He stopped and looked down at his leg. Now Liam saw the potential problem.
“Did she offer to use the nictel on you?”
Mora cringed. “If nictel means a leash-looking thing, yes. And when I freaked out, I think I freaked her out. When they go pale, that means they’re freaking, right?”
“Oh yeah,” Liam said. Personally, he had trouble envisioning a Grandmother ever panicking, but if anything could inspire that in a Grandmother, a palteia could.
Mora leaned closer. “Why would she assume she needed to tie me up to get me to cooperate?”
He had such a horrified tone that it pulled at Liam’s sympathy. Liam had to shut down his Rownt instincts and put himself back into a human mindset. After a second he leaned over and placed his hand on Mora’s shoulder. Immediately, Mora relaxed. Liam remembered being new and afraid of fucking up. “She doesn’t need to tie you up.”
“Really? I got the feeling she was going to cuff me and parade me in front of my family. Is it a power thing—showing that she’s claimed me?” Now the fear was palpable. Christ. The man had a poker face to hide this much emotion.
“Oh God, no!” Liam felt ill imagining a Grandmother acting like that. “First, the nictel goes on one leg. It’s not easily visible, and if you tell her that you’re uncomfortable wearing it, she won’t use it.”
“Good. I don’t think my libido can handle my Grandmother and bondage in the same thought. My genitals will vote themselves off the island.”
Liam had never had so much sympathy for an officer before. He stepped up on the stair and sat on the second step so he was eye to eye with Mora. “First, the nictel is not sexual. Rownt can’t even conceive of sexual bondage.” Liam felt his face grow warm as he thought of Ondry and his wrist restraints, but that was not a Rownt trait. Ondry had learned that from reading about deviant sexual habits of submissive humans. Liam hoped the Grandmother was not reading the same part of the database.
“Then why use it?” Mora asked.
Liam considered how to answer that. “I want you to imagine a Rownt raising a child. She will try to teach her child to be independent.”
“They’re highly individualistic,” Mora said, nodding. “That’s the core of the Rownt psychology, just as important as the Anla division into followers and leaders.”
Liam felt a frisson of discomfort at having the Rownt and Anla psychology described in the same sentence, but he was ignoring that. “But this hypothetical Rownt starts to notice that her child won’t demand independence or compete for resources.”
“Is that when she suspects she’s raising a palteia?” Mora asked. He lifted one foot onto the step where Liam was sitting, leaning toward him as though desperate for information.
“She might have a palteia or she might be a horrible parent who has held too tightly to the child. She’s going to ask a Grandmother for help. And maybe the Grandmother suspects that the child is a palteia.”
“Would Rownt consider that a blessing or a curse? I know they want a palteia in their nest, but how do they see having offspring who are palteia?” Mora did tend to ask questions that no storyscroll covered because no Rownt thought that way. In fact, Liam had never seen any story where the parent’s feelings about the palteia were an issue. The stories generally focused on the feelings of the palteia or the prospective chilta, or sometimes the Grandmothers who had to negotiate a difficult relationship and find advantage for everyone.
“For Rownt, having a child is always a blessing. However, the situation is more complex with a palteia. The Grandmothers will not allow a palteia to stay with a parent, because that relationship is accidental. Palteia deserve to have a chilta chosen to best serve their needs, so custody will need to transfer to another adult once the palteia’s skills and interests are clear.”
“Like an apprenticeship?”
“No, the placement is permanent,” Liam said. “But take me, for instance. I loved to trade, so the Grandmothers needed a chilta who traded and had an understanding of humans.”
“That would have been a narrow field of competitors.”
Liam smiled. “Very. I’m happy with the outcome.”
Mora smiled back. “I can tell. But how does any of this explain why the Grandmother offered to chain me?” He seemed more confused than alarmed now, which Liam felt was an improvement.
“When the Grandmothers have picked a new chilta for a young one, they have a problem. The palteia loves the parent as the first chilta and feels an overwhelming loyalty to her. Even if the move would improve life, a palteia will fight change. The temple must enforce the change of custody.”
Mora blew out a breath. “She expects me to fight leaving with the Li?”
Liam didn’t think it was that simple. “She knows that leaving your family is hard because either your birth family or the military acts as your chilta. She wants you to feel comfortable expressing your feelings and she wants you to understand that the struggle is normal.” Having been through the process himself, Liam was almost sure that had been Ondry’s goal when Liam had tried to run back to base. Looking back, that had been such a stupid move, but Liam had been too panicked to think logically. He was lucky that human terror and palteia loyalty appeared similar.
“She won’t think I’m a horrible palteia if I talk about missing my family?”
“Nope,” Liam said. “Ondry is always asking me about Earth and my people back here.”
“But you don’t feel any connection to them?” Mora asked.
Liam leaned back against the stairs. “That has less to do with the Rownt than with my childhood and my time at the front. I had to stop caring about some things or I would have lost my mind. And honestly, I doubt anyone on Earth cares much about me, either. I’m in a better place, I don’t care about the same things.”
“Do you still care about Earth?”
“Yes,” Liam said firmly. His little brothers and sisters weren’t the children he remembered, but he would protect the planet and the people they had become, even if that family tie was too frayed to repair. “That’s why I feel so damn guilty that I almost caused the Rownt to conclude that humanity was too sociopathic to raise their own children.” Liam gave a shiver. If he ever moved back to Earth, the generals were going to rip him a new one for that, but luckily Liam had no interest in returning for anything more than a visit.
“That trap was there before you. Our psychologies are close enough for us to misunderstand each other, so sooner or later, some Rownt was going to start questioning whether we could be trusted. Humans are fortunate you helped to bridge the gap.”
“I don’t know that I did much,” Liam said. “Hell, you and Diallo both speak Rownt a thousand percent better than I did for the first year I lived on Prarownt.”
Mora frowned. “Of course we do. We used your recordings and notes.”
“My what?” For a second Liam had a weird sensation of not being able to put those words together into a logical order that his brain could process. It was as if he’d forgotten English.
“Didn’t the linguist on Prarownt tell you he was forwarding your work on the language back to Earth?” Mora asked.
Lieutenant Spooner had said something like that, and Liam had formed some small hope of promotion based on his work, but since the Rownt had claimed him, Liam hadn’t given it much thought.
Mora gave a rough laugh. “You are one of the two most famous living Earth linguists, and you don’t even know it. When my classmates found out I was going to meet you, they were almost envious enough to fake a submissive streak. What Diallo did for the Anla, you did for the Rownt. You started untangling the ways culture and linguistics intersected. Our textbook at school is based off your work in the field.”
“Seriously?” Liam asked weakly.
Mora laughed. “And here I thought you had some sort of false modesty going on, which didn’t make much sense given Rownt psychology and your adaptation to them, but...” Mora gave an exaggerated shrug.
Liam blinked and stared at the wall. “Modest, no. Clueless, apparently so,” Liam said.
“Does that mean you’ll come meet my parents before we leave?” Mora asked. “They’d love to meet you and possibly bribe you with homemade cookies to keep me from getting into trouble.” Mora smiled, and Liam had another flash of discomfort as the white teeth of Mora’s smile sent danger signals to the Rownt part of Liam’s brain at the same time as the human side recognized the offer of genuine friendship.
“Um, yeah. Sure,” Liam agreed. Given Mora’s enthusiasm, Liam couldn’t turn him down.
“Awesome,” Mora said in English before offering a far more restrained, “May the sun bring opportunities.”
The context was wrong for the greeting, but Liam did appreciate the sentiment. “Let us go find our chilta,” Liam said in Rownt. This time when Mora smiled, he kept his teeth covered.