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Ondry stretched his neck muscles before they grew too stiff. Liam would, no doubt, want to perform the ilsil to help him relax, but right now, Ondry wanted his muscles coiled and full of fight hormones. It would help him react if the Imshee tried to attack them. While Ondry could think of no logical reason for them to do so, he also had to admit that those who felt guilt sometimes acted illogically.
He and the eldest Grandmother had come up with a plan if the Imshee attempted violence. The Grandmother waiting on the Rownt side of the airlock was old enough to have power and size on her side, but young enough to still have speed. She would open the lock, and Ondry would race the two palteia back to safety, carrying both if need be. The Grandmother would move forward and engage the Imshee with its dangerous front claws. She had assured Ondry that she carried weapons primitive enough that the Imshee sensors would not pick them up. He trusted her on that point.
He still hated that Liam was in the middle of this meeting. He even felt a near-equal discomfort at the idea of Mora being in the middle. However, if the Imshee were unreasonable, Ondry would tend the two palteia and he counted on the Grandmothers to deal with the Imshee ship.
The door on the far end of the airlock opened and the Grandmother shifted to move in front of Ondry and the palteia. When Mora tried to look around her, Ondry caught Mora’s shirt, preventing him from doing so. He hoped the Grandmother would forgive the touch later, but Ondry would not have Mora risk himself.
“Don’t make our chilta worry. Stay back,” Liam whispered in English.
The Imshee would not speak the language, so it was a wise choice. And thankfully, Mora did then choose to stay behind the Grandmother. Given that the back of her arms were pale, Ondry didn’t think it would take much aggravation to move her to violence.
The door at the far end opened, and an Imshee appeared. The only other Imshee Ondry had ever traded with had been a young one on Prarownt, and it had been smaller than Ondry’s mother. The one coming from the Imshee ship was larger than that one, but smaller than the Imshee they had negotiated with earlier.
The Imshee moved forward, the front claws sliding along the floor as the back legs sent it forward in a waddle. It stopped several feet away. “Respected Grandmother. We appreciate the meeting with Our favorite traders.”
The Grandmother didn’t respond, and Ondry forced his nostrils open. Perhaps Liam sensed the tension, because he caught Mora’s arm and pulled him closer.
“Are the new species palteia uninjured? We and We misjudged the biological needs of the new species. Neither We or the many We have intent to do any harm. Will the Rownt of the ship Calti continue to trade with Us and Our? Do Our favorite traders still wish to trade for genetic manipulation?”
The Grandmother took a step forward and the Imshee fell silent. Normally, the Grandmothers were rather reticent, but this time she answered each question. “Palteia Zach Mora and Palteia Liam Munson have recovered. Our medical Grandmothers feel they are uninjured, but we are not highly experienced with their species, so we can only say we see no damage. We intend to continue trade. We still wish to discuss the genetic manipulation.”
The Imshee lowered its huge head, and the eyes—those shattered glass eyes—rotated in their sockets. “Do Our favorite traders wish to renegotiate the genetic manipulation? We believed that agreement final. Our favorite traders call themselves inexperienced. How well do Our favorite traders know the unfamiliar species?” The Imshee shifted to the left.
The Grandmother mirrored its movements, continuing to block access to the palteia. “Our palteia must make their own choices. You have harmed them, so while the Calti stands ready to complete the transaction, the palteia must speak with you before deciding whether they trust you to change their genetic code.”
The Imshee rotated its large head on the small neck, and Liam sucked in a quick breath. Ondry moved closer to him, offering his presence to chase away any human fears centered around the Arthropoda phylum. When Liam curled his hand around Ondry’s arm, Ondry knew he had made the right choice. “Our favorite traders call themselves inexperienced. How well do our favorite traders know the unfamiliar species?”
Ondry had no idea how the Grandmother kept her patience when the Imshee insisted on asking the same questions over and over.
“Do the members of this new species seek to trade independent of Our favorite traders? How well do Our favorite traders know the unfamiliar species? Do the members of this new species seek apology or explanation? Can We speak to this new species?”
Ondry would rather have cut off his own tail than allow the Imshee trader to speak to Liam, but the Grandmother had spoken to him about allowing Liam to take the lead if the Imshee needed reassuring from the humans. Mora was too inexperienced. He blurted inappropriate or downright offensive statements with frightening regularity. He was lucky that he was the palteia of a Grandmother with as much respect as the leader of the Calti. Another chilta might have suffered a serious loss of status, given Mora’s lack of skill with either language or custom.
The Grandmother huffed. That did suggest she was still aggravated, even if the color had returned to her arms. “Our palteia trade for us. They are not independent—that is the nature of palteia.”
“Our favorite traders call themselves inexperienced. How well do our favorite traders know the unfamiliar species? Do the unfamiliar palteia require reassurance, apology or explanation?”
“Tuk-Liam,” the Grandmother said, “Do you require reassurance, apology or explanation?”
When Liam glanced his way, Ondry took a deep breath and forced himself to relax his face. No doubt Liam would see though his façade of calm, but he was a good enough trader to know that Ondry’s aggravation was not worth losing profits. Sure enough, Liam stepped forward. Now he stood inches in front of Ondry, but still well behind the security of the Grandmother’s much larger bulk.
Ondry temporarily lost control of his tail, letting it lash the air, but then he curled it around his own leg.
“I would like a reassurance,” Liam said. “The Imshee we traded with earlier did not recognize the signs of medical distress, and now you wish to perform a medical procedure. What has changed to improve your understanding of our physiology?”
Ondry admired his palteia. Liam already knew the answer to that question—and the answer put the blame on the Grandmothers for withholding medical information on humans. If any reassurance could calm any potential Imshee guilt, that would. And Liam had done it without revealing that his goal was calming the situation. Liam often spoke of Mora having more education and understanding, but Ondry would rather trust Liam’s instincts.
“The We of earlier is fully equal to the We of now. We did not recognize the medical distress because We did not recognize the physical needs of the unfamiliar species. We and We now understand the biology of your and your species. Where is your and your birth planet relative to Rownt territory? How long has your and your species traded with the Rownt?”
Liam didn’t hesitate. “We measure time differently from the Rownt. My species lives short lives, and we count the time of one adult raising an offspring to adulthood as one generation.” Liam offered the human word since Rownt had no such concept.
It had taken Ondry a long time to even conceive of it, because each offspring required a different amount of time. When the day came for a female to leave a child at their door, Ondry and Liam would spend a hundred years or three hundred raising it until it stood in the temple and demanded independence. A parent could not dictate the length of time for a child to grow any more than a farmer could require a seed to germinate two years after landing in the soil rather than five years later.
Liam continued. “The species I was born into have known the Rownt for two generations. We consider them longstanding trade partners. The Rownt believe they have only just met humans. And I do not know where my planet is. I am not trained to understand navigation, so I have no more knowledge of how to find my home planet than you do.”
The Imshee jerked its head up, and the jolting motion set off Ondry’s protective instincts. He hauled Liam away from the Imshee and put his own body between the Imshee and Liam.
The Grandmother turned and gave Ondry a decidedly unhappy look. Then she turned back to the Imshee and said, “The manners of the young are often questionable. They are far too easily ruled by hormones.”
Ondry remained silent. He would never apologize for protecting Liam.
Liam put a hand on Ondry’s arm for a moment before he stepped forward again. “I am very inexperienced with any species other than humans and Rownt. Neither of us can grow smaller. But you said you were the same Imshee we spoke to earlier.”
“We are still fully We,” the Imshee said. Ondry didn’t find that a particularly useful answer, but given that the Grandmother was already unhappy, he chose to avoid insulting the Imshee’s inability to communicate clearly. “Do the members of the human species know the Many of Cy?”
Alarm raced up Ondry’s spine. The Cy were the oldest species he knew of. They were a dying people—rich in technology and highly manipulative. Ondry did not know of any Rownt who dared to trade with Cy.
“I don’t know them.” Liam turned to look toward Mora.
That un-Rowntlike request for information must have struck the Imshee as important because it thrust its head forward and tilted it to the side.
“I’ve never heard of them,” Mora said in questionably accented Rownt.
Once her palteia was involved, the Grandmother moved to refocus the Imshee on herself, and Ondry resented that she worked so hard to shelter her palteia while asking Liam to involve himself in Grandmothers’ business. “Why do you ask if humans know Cy? The question is too specific for simple Imshee curiosity.”
“Based on the biology our favorite traders have shared, these humans may be a species the Cy spoke of.”
“The Cy knew humans?” The Grandmother’s concern was clear in her clipped tones.
“We and the ship We spoke to Cy about a species that has many biological similarities. We and We and many allied We are surprised Rownt trade with humans.”
“The Calti trades with many partners,” the Grandmother said. “We are wise enough to find profit and fast enough to leave if our profits are at risk.”
“We are grateful that you understand the danger of this species.” The Imshee added a series of chitters.
“I am sorry, but in what way do you find my species dangerous?” Liam asked.
His words were rash, but Ondry had faith that Liam had chosen to insert himself into the conversation for a reason other than to defend his species. Liam had been far more likely to share positive stories of humans since visiting the planet where the Grandmothers had negotiated with the human authorities, but he still had many concerns about humanity as a whole.
The Imshee’s chittering slowed and it lowered itself more. “We and We and many We see danger in your and your species. Many Cy expressed concern with hunting habits of this species that may be the same as your and your humans.”
Liam looked to Mora again, but he shrugged.
“Do humans hunt in unusual ways?” the Grandmother asked. Normally such questions would only be asked in a nest, but Ondry understood that the situation with the Imshee required the Grandmothers to share more information.
Now Liam shrugged. “Humans hunt much like the Rownt.”
The Imshee rapped his claws against the floor in a rapid staccato. The beat lasted several seconds before he stopped. “The Cy observed potential humans hunting with determination that motivated the Cy to leave the species confined to one planet and Cy went elsewhere for their entertainment.”
“Zach?” Liam asked.
“People have thousands of cultures and millions of traditions. I don't know which type of hunting would have concerned any space-going species,” Mora said.
Liam quickly translated.
“The Cy did not worry easily,” the Imshee said. Then the words spilled out. “The Cy knew much. The Cy report possible humans hunt by walking behind a beast, harassing it each time it stops until the beast doesn't have the strength to fight. Do Rownt-known humans hunt using this method? How long have Rownt-known humans possessed space travel? How many planets do they possess?”
Ondry suspected this particular Imshee was rather excitable and potentially not sane. The Grandmother must have thought the same; her nose was narrow. However, she turned to Liam. “Tuk-Liam, do you know any of these answers?”
“I spent most of my time learning to conjugate verbs. I don’t know much of the cultural history of my planet.”
“Some cultures did,” Mora offered in English. “It's called persistence hunting. A few cultures on our planet used the strategy, often in hot climates when weather and pursuit combined to give a persistence hunter the advantage. And I need to write an apology to one of my professors. I might have said that useless historical facts would never come up in translating languages.”
Liam translated all but the last sentence, using the Rownt phrase “hunting without allowing rest” to replace the concept of persistence. Rownt had persistence in abundance, but Ondry needed to study the English term because hunting an animal by walking after it appeared closer to insanity than persistence.
“Hunting without allowing rest.” The Imshee rattled its leg segments together. “The Cy observed your and your people using such strategy to target large prey—dangerous prey.”
“I'm sure my ancestors did. No doubt there are some who still choose to hunt that way in order to maintain tradition,” Liam said. “However, few if any humans still hunt without allowing the prey to rest.”
“We and many We hear reports that Cy-known probably humans are gregarious.”
Liam blew out a long breath, clearly uncomfortable. “We are. We often form groups of people who feel mutual protectiveness that can equal the family units seen in other species.” Liam’s hesitation reminded Ondry of when he’d first met Liam. Liam’s ability to conjugate verbs had improved, but the unwillingness to discuss his people’s psychology in front of unfamiliar traders still lingered.
Once again, a burst of questions erupted from the Imshee. “How large are these groups? How can Cy know of humans if humans do not know of Cy? Cy can hide themselves. How closely aligned are gregarious groups? How closely aligned are family groups? How independent are members of groups of either sort? How large are these groups? How large are hunting groups who kill by not allowing prey to rest? How many hunters must humans include to hunt by not allowing prey to rest? How closely aligned are the motives of the We and the We?”
Liam blinked, and—unable to read Liam’s emotions—Ondry moved to his side. “I...” Liam looked up at Ondry and then the Grandmother.
The Grandmother said in a kind voice full of the sorts of soft conjugations one might use with a child, “Ignorance can be dangerous when it causes two groups to misunderstand each other so that offense and insults take the place of trade and insults, and the value of knowledge is reduced when too few share it.”
Liam nodded and took a deep breath before answering. “Some families are as close as chilta and palteia. Others grow apart. There is no one way to answer the question about human groups.”
Mora spoke up, straining his limited Rownt. “Hunting by not allowing prey to rest is rare. Our ancestors used only during best severe heat when our ability to sweat allowed us to harass animals who were sweatless.”
The Imshee reared back. “Us. Our. Do you hunt by not allowing prey to rest?”
Mora reverted to English. “What? No. No. Humans use pronouns to indicate inclusion into groups that are biologically or culturally similar. I’m genetically related to ancestors who used persistence hunting, so I say we. Liam, explain that to them. Shit. And I knew pronouns were a touchy subject with them.” Mora’s face twisted with frustration.
The Grandmother retreated a step and curled her tail around Mora’s leg without taking her gaze from the Imshee. When Mora pressed his face to her back, Ondry sympathized. He was clearly too inexperienced to trade with another species, which was why the Grandmother had asked Liam to speak for the humans. She respected him enough that she would pull his tail if he had one, and Ondry was proud of that. However, Ondry draped his arm around Liam’s shoulder because, once again, he was being asked to bear too much of a burden.
Liam leaned into Ondry as he explained the human use of pronouns to include themselves in groups despite having no legitimate claim to those groups, and the Imshee settled on his haunches. Its small mid-body arms uncurled and began the uncoordinated movements Ondry assumed were normal for Imshee.
“We and We will honor the trade if Our favorite traders wish Us and Us to modify the two humans you have taken into your family groups, but neither We nor any other We will modify more humans,” the Imshee said. With that, it spun around and returned to its own airlock in one mighty leap. Liam startled and pressed himself to Ondry with a gasp, and Ondry embraced him. Liam’s heart pounded impossibly fast. Once they got Liam’s lifespan extended, Ondry hoped to never see an Imshee again.