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The Li shivered as it pushed away from the surface of Earth. Liam held the shoulder straps that Ondry had installed on their couch. Gravity pinned Liam against the cushioned seating. Every time he lived through a Rownt takeoff, he was most impressed by Rownt physiology. Right now Ondry crouched on the floor, his back to the L-shaped junction of the two couch sections as he held a strap bolted to the ground. No human would ever trust grip strength to save them from a crash, and yet the Rownt did.
Liam preferred shoulder straps. “I never thought I’d see Earth again. I’m glad that this time I’m not running away from someone,” Liam said. His bones rattled as the ship fought to escape gravity.
“I still wish you would let me hunt Mort and split his skin open,” Ondry said. For one second, Liam thought Ondry had discovered how to use exaggeration to create human-style humor. However, Ondry appeared perfectly serious.
“I don’t think the human authorities would have liked that.” Liam didn’t want to explain prison to the Rownt. He suspected they wouldn’t understand the logic, and Liam didn’t want Ondry discovering the wonders of prison first-hand.
“To keep the alliance, I believe the humans would have allowed me the pleasure,” Ondry said with confidence.
“You are surprisingly bloodthirsty.”
Ondry grinned wide enough to show all his sharp teeth. It was a terrifying expression. “I have no interest in drinking blood—only watching it soak into the ground as the soulless dalit who hurt you gasped and begged for me to offer mercy, a request I would ignore.”
Liam blinked as Ondry’s fury showed its toothy little head. As much as Liam understood and loved the Rownt in general and Ondry specifically, sometimes they were still terrifying. He chose to change the subject. “How long will it take us to reach Imshee space?”
The shaking grew more intense, and Ondry shifted so he could rest his butt on his heels. “I am unsure of the details, but it should take no longer than it took us to cross human space to reach Earth.”
Liam frowned. “Is Imshee space that close to Earth?” If so, Liam was a little concerned that humans might have to deal with yet another first contact situation.
Ondry widened his eyes and studied Liam for a second. “As I understand it, the Imshee are distant by several galaxies.”
“But...” Liam let out a breath and restarted. Ondry reacted better to questions than shocked statements and their implied request for clarification. So Liam came out and asked, “How fast can Rownt engines travel? I thought there was a theoretical limit to how fast a ship could travel without time distorting and affecting the drive.”
“I know little of the mechanics of space travel, but I do not believe that it takes longer to travel greater distances,” Ondry said easily, as if he hadn’t dropped a huge info-bomb into the middle of the room. Maybe he recognized Liam’s confused expression because he continued. “The most difficult part of travel is calculating the most direct path between two points while avoiding spatial anomalies that could pull the ship off course. I believe the Grandmothers avoided the most direct course to Earth. The number of large ships moving in the area of your planet made navigation more complex.”
Folded space. Ondry was talking about folded fucking space. The holy grail of space travel. Human engineers and science fiction authors had been chasing folded space for a good century.
“Have the Grandmothers told the human authorities that they use folded space?” Liam asked. The time and fuel cost involved in the war had crippled Earth’s efforts to end the rebellion, but if the government had folded space technology, the war would end so much sooner. Liam couldn’t help but think about the lives that could be saved on the front.
“I do not know what technologies the Grandmothers have chosen to share.”
“Well, someone should tell them that you developed folded space. The profits they would offer would surpass those of any hero in any storyscroll in history.”
“Rownt did not develop the technology,” Ondry said. “The Cy felt the Rownt would benefit from avoiding more basic forms of space travel, so they traded the technology in part to protect our environment.”
Liam tried to sit up, but the gravitational forces of the lift kept him pinned to his seat even as Ondry moved easily. Despite the stark differences between Prarownt and Earth in terms of environmental damage, Liam had assumed the smaller population size of Rownt accounted for it. Okay, on his less charitable days, he might have assumed that humans were irresponsible assholes who had damaged their world out of malice and avarice, but most of the time, he’d assumed the Rownt preference for solitary life had led to lower populations and less pressure on the environment. It had never occurred to him that a more advanced species had intervened to give the Rownt an advantage.
“When did this happen?”
“Many generations ago,” Ondry said. Given that Rownt counted generations by the lifespan of a Grandmother that meant thousands and thousands of years in the past. “I do not know the details of that trade or what the Grandmothers may choose to share with humans.”
“I...” Liam blew out a breath. This brought up a new problem. “If Zach Mora wants to go home to Earth and he knows the ship uses folded space technology, he’ll share that with Command.”
“A reasonable individual would assume as much,” Ondry said.
The mild insult stung, but Liam ignored it. Yes, that had been such an obvious point that he shouldn’t have said it. But Ondry didn’t understand the consequences for Earth. “If Rownt have folded space technology and don’t share it, many humans are going to grow resentful.”
“One cannot dictate what trade goods another offers.”
“That’s perfect logic if you’re trading with Rownt, but humans often will ask for specific goods. The general asked for certain metals and delivery schedules when they traded with the Grandmothers, and if they learn you have folded space engines, they will ask for those as well.”
“A request does not obligate the trader.”
“But turning down the request is going to make many humans believe the worst of the Rownt. They might assume that the Rownt are trying to keep humans out of space.”
Ondry’s face tightened with amusement. “Only those who wallow in ignorance would ever reach such a conclusion. Rownt have one planet and we do not feel a need for more.”
“An ututeh judges others as if they were ututeh,” Liam said, putting the idea of egocentrism into a form Ondry could understand. Liam wondered if the Grandmothers would grasp the problem more quickly, since they traded with other species.
Ondry paled. Maybe he saw the danger now. “I will speak to the Grandmothers.”
Liam gave a quick nod. He would have to trust the Rownt to handle the politics from there. It wasn’t as if Liam had any easy answers. He didn’t even know if Mora had noticed that the Rownt had folded space. If he stayed on the ship for any length of time, he should figure it out. If every trip took roughly the same amount of time, only one explanation would fit.
Before Liam could worry more, the Li slipped free, and the gravity that had pinned him in place vanished. A fraction of the gravity of Earth remained, but Ondry kept hold of the strap he had held as he moved up to sit on the couch.
“You can sit with me during liftoff,” Liam said, even though he knew he wouldn’t win this fight.
“I could damage you.”
“I doubt that.”
Ondry hummed as though trying to soothe himself. “If the ship suddenly changes vector, I could be pushed up against you.” He paled even more.
“If the ship changes vector that fast, it’s called crashing. I would rather have you hit something soft, and we can worry about any injuries after the ship either hits the ground or turns into a streaking fireball.” Liam didn’t want to survive a ship crash. Catastrophic injuries would probably require him to return to Earth for treatment, and Liam didn’t consider that home anymore.
“Rownt are more likely to survive a piercing injury, so I would rather not hit something soft if I do so with enough force to cause internal injuries,” Ondry said. “I am comfortable on the floor, especially when the lift forces are so light.”
Liam stared at Ondry. Light. The Rownt were built like tanks. “What are the Cy like?”
Some of the color returned to Ondry’s face. “Few storyscrolls were written about them, because those who chose to work for the Cy took neither Grandmothers nor storytellers with them. They were an old species who required help to run their technology, even when they first met the Rownt. The Cy mapped most of this part of the universe, but they shared little of that knowledge. At least they did not share with any Rownt I know.”
“Mora has to be in heaven,” Liam said softly.
Ondry shifted so his leg pressed against Liam’s. “Why?”
“He studied for years so he could go out into the world and help Earth understand other cultures. It seems like no matter how much I know about Rownt, there are always more secrets to learn.”
“The Cy are not a secret.”
“That was a poor word choice. There are more layers to uncover,” Liam corrected himself.
“Is that not also true of humans?”
Liam opened his mouth and then closed it again. From Ondry’s point of view, that was true. And Liam had presented information in a rather perverse order. Ondry had learned about rape and PTSD before anyone had explained musical genres. If Liam did ever go back to Earth to live, he wouldn’t have blamed the generals if they hated him.
“Mora may never learn to understand Rownt as well as you,” Ondry said with confidence.
“Is this another version of how you’re better than anyone else, or in this case how we’re better?” Liam asked. The arrogance was utterly in character, but Ondry normally kept it reined in around the Grandmothers. Maybe now that he was established as tuk-ranked, he didn’t feel the same deference.
“We are better,” Ondry said, without an ounce of doubt. “However, Mora may struggle because he has never turned away from his own people. He thinks in human languages and then tries to translate the words to Rownt. From the beginning, you tried to think in Rownt.”
“You’re giving me too much credit. If I could figure out how to offer a greeting without conjugating a verb wrong, I was happy.”
“But you never attempted to translate a human greeting. You sought Rownt greetings.”
Liam had to admit Ondry was right about that. He’d been a little obsessed with memorizing phrases out of storyscrolls because he didn’t understand the logic behind Rownt language, even when he could follow the verb conjugations.
“Mora will get there. I can’t believe he complained about the Grandmother in front of the food server.” Liam cringed in sympathy. The social rules were so much more difficult to navigate than the language.
“Ka-Alar will not repeat his stories lightly,” Ondry said.
The gravity shifted again, and Liam grabbed the harness straps. He appreciated the open space in Rownt ships until shifts in gravity made him feel like he was about to fall off the floor.
Ondry turned sideways. Bracing himself on the back of the couch, he put his arm across Liam’s chest. Then he continued as if Liam weren’t being irrationally twitchy about a normal ship maneuver. “Alar may find more profit in gaining a reputation as one with discretion. Given that he has made a major investment in human food, he likely plans to serve the Grandmother by catering to her palteia.”
Liam grabbed Ondry’s arm and held on. It was much more solid than the harness straps. “You guys are a little quick to indulge your palteia.”
“We have a proper respect for one.”
Liam snorted. “You put up with anything, including unforgivable...” Liam resorted to English, “gossipiness.” Liam wasn’t sure that was an actual word, even in English.
Ondry darkened in amusement. “He is young. The young often talk about the size and color of their nest to those who do not have reason to know such information.” Ondry’s tone had a subtle lack of respect. It wasn’t overt disrespect as much as amusement at a youngster’s failings. He was so predictable.
“As long as he doesn’t discuss the color of our nest, I don’t care.”
“Do you plan to let him see our nest?” Ondry asked, his eyes wide.
Liam flashed on what happened in their nest. The words slipped out in English. “Oh hell, no.”
Ondry’s face tightened in pleasure. “Then our pillows are not his business.”
“Nope.”
“And neither are the wrist bindings, which I plan to make use of once we are back in our proper quarters,” Ondry said.
Liam blushed. He also didn’t argue, because he would admit that he’d missed having a long, leisurely morning in bed without the fear of meetings with human authorities to worry about. Instead, he repeated the old adage: “The color of one’s pillows should be known only to oneself.”
Ondry leaned in and huffed so his warm breath skittered across Liam’s neck and made the hair on his arms stand up. “True,” he rumbled.
Liam closed his eyes and thought unsexy thoughts before his cock could get the wrong idea. After all, if he waited a couple of hours, they would be home in their deep nest with all the pillows.