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Ondry was surprised to see the temple abandoned by the tuk-ranked individuals trying to get a feel for what decisions might be under consideration and ka-ranked individuals haunting the edges of the crowd. Only one large Grandmother sat in the back section of the temple, and the area in front of the light curtains was empty. As they walked through, Mora’s shoes clacked against the flooring. It emphasized that he still wore human clothing, and the sound annoyed Ondry more than he wished for the others to know.
It was possible that being around the Imshee had left him irrationally aggravated.
Mora dropped onto one of the benches. “Where’s Duke? Duke!” He looked toward the stairs where the clack of the predator’s claws announced his coming.
Ondry encouraged Liam to move to the bench on the opposite side. He didn’t want a predator too near, not when his protective instincts still felt raw and jangled.
When Duke came hurrying down the steps, Mora slapped his knees to command his attention. As the Grandmother sat next to Mora, he leaned over and buried his face in the animal’s fur. Ondry suspected that might have been a desire for comfort. Humans had many nerve endings in their lips and face. If Mora needed comfort, Liam might as well, so Ondry wrapped his tail around Liam’s knee and draped an arm over his shoulder. Liam leaned into him.
That was when the Grandmother rested her own hand on Mora’s back.
After taking a deep, audible breath, Mora sat up. “I can’t believe that the first time I had to deal with an actual alien species, I screwed up that badly. I even said pronouns were clearly a cultural issue for them, so what did I do? I screwed up my pronouns.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you have already dealt with aliens,” Liam said. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re not on a human ship.”
Mora shook his head. “Rownt don’t count.”
Ondry straightened, half ready to take offense, even if Mora was the palteia of a Grandmother, and the eldest Grandmother gave him a quelling look.
“Excuse me? Why not?” Liam asked.
Mora smiled at his Grandmother. Even with his teeth showing, affection colored his expression. “Easy. I could get drunk, throw up on the dinner table, and offend every Grandmother in the ship, and I would still get forgiven.” He rested his hand on his Grandmother’s leg.
“That is true,” Liam said, his expression full of narrow-eyed affection and no teeth.
“Exactly. It’s not difficult to maintain a relationship when there’s zero danger. The Rownt are about as laid-back and forgiving as a species comes.”
“I doubt the Anla would say as much,” the Grandmother said. Her nose was narrowed at the very mention of Anla, and Ondry had to agree. The Rownt had destroyed more than one Anla ship before they had learned to avoid Rownt ships or territory.
“Yeah, but they’re crazy,” Liam said softly.
“That is true enough that one need not say it.” The Grandmother flared her nose and then settled into a more relaxed expression. “Both the Anla and the Cy have expressed concern about the depth of Rownt commitment to certain emotions.”
“They’re scared of how far your temper goes when you decide to use violence, aren’t they?” Liam asked.
Given that Liam had the exact same concern, Ondry was unsurprised he had made such an assumption. So many species warred that Ondry had great difficulty understanding why Anla and Cy and now humans all feared Rownt developing the same illogical habit each of them indulged in. As far as Ondry could tell, all that was required was a setting aside of logic in an effort to do as much damage to others as possible, all while ignoring any damage your own side incurred. And yet, three species had now expressed grave concerns about the consequences if Rownt learned to share their insanity.
“Yes,” the Grandmother agreed. “That is one reason why we suspect that human concerns about our attitude toward battle may reflect reality more accurately than we perceive.”
“So if everyone else thinks you’re scary, everyone else might be right?” Mora asked. His predator slid to the floor at his feet and then collapsed to his side where he appeared to fall asleep. “Please tell me if I am misinterpreting some of the Rownt here, I’m not catching every word.”
“You’re doing fine,” Liam reassured him. “I’m more concerned about the Imshee impression of humans.”
Mora reverted to English. “Did they make humanity sound a little bit like one of the plagues of Egypt?”
“Is Egypt a human world?” Ondry asked. He still did not understand the human territory. The species appeared to have several authorities who all claimed mandates over the same territories and gave differing names to the same place.
The authorities that Liam called Command claimed a planetary system they named Yepson. Those who lived on the planets named the same place Ribelo and insisted Command’s claim over the territory an invasion. And when Ribelo that was also Yepson came back under Command control, the Yepsons, who named themselves Ribelians, continued to maintain their independence, even when lacking any territory. Many moved farther into Command space to attack targets that were unconnected to the planet in question. Ondry doubted the logic of many if not most humans.
“No, it is a geographical name for a place that was made famous in ancient literature. A very poor leader tried to hold control, and he used violence against a smaller group of people to do so. The people believed in a single God and believed that God had assisted them by sending a plague of small insects which appeared in such numbers that it stripped the land of all food,” Liam explained.
“That appears to be an accurate interpretation of the Imshee fear,” the Grandmother said. For a Grandmother, she was remarkably vocal today. Ondry wondered if the absence of others might have allowed her more freedom to speak without Rownt assuming that her words reflected Calti policies.
“Which I did not make any better by throwing around renegade pronouns. I swear, I am an idiot,” Mora said. “I need to pay more attention to the details, which is something more than one professor told me. Like right now. I am willing to bet you money that Liam can recognize the expressions on your faces.” Mora wagged his finger between Ondry and the Grandmother.
“The slight pulling of skin at the edges of Ondry’s eyes and the way his eyes are narrowed suggests amusement. I believe that he is finding humor in watching you suffer.” Liam gave Ondry an indulgent look.
Ondry said nothing, but he was entertained by Mora’s failures. When Mora had first joined the ship, Liam had worried that his own lack of education would cause Ondry’s status to suffer by highlighting Liam’s failings. So Ondry did enjoy watching Mora prove Liam’s worth by showing his own lack of common sense.
Liam continued. “And the Grandmother’s wide eyes tend to indicate confusion. The large, dark pupils reinforce the impression. My guess is that right now she is wondering if you have suffered some sort of head injury that would cause you to insult yourself or if this is some undesirable human trait that she’s going to have to adjust to. Unfortunately for her, it’s the second.”
“No trait of my palteia is undesirable,” the Grandmother said firmly, which caused both humans to roll their eyes.
“I don’t think honesty is undesirable,” Mora said. “Ondry is right to make fun of me.”
When Mora turned to Ondry, Ondry wished to reduce any harm his words might cause a palteia. He remembered how fragile Liam had been at first. “My amusement is less with your mistakes than with how your mistakes reflect on others,” Ondry said, and he looked at the Grandmother.
She did not even give him the courtesy of appearing annoyed at such an insult. “Some individuals have status which is secure enough that no random insults from an eggling can damage it,” she said.
Liam laughed. “And that is Rownt pissiness. If it makes you feel any better, I was equally bad when I started. However, I now use my embarrassing past to remind myself of how far I’ve come.”
“Embarrassing? You’re arguably one of the three or four most famous linguists in history.”
Liam’s expression turned to horror.
Ondry would have to ask about that reaction in the privacy of their own nest. However, for now he wished only to distract from a subject that clearly caused Liam distress. “You have learned much faster than a Rownt youngling would have,” he said.
“The advantage of a short life.” Liam’s expression softened. “You have to learn from your mistakes quickly. In my case, I learned from my mistakes slowly until I met you. You seem to have sped up the process somewhat.”
“It is true that when you worked for the human base, your language suffered for it.” Ondry rested his palm against Liam’s neck. “The first time you spoke to me, your words implied that I was too weak to carry some brass containers.”
Liam’s face twisted with horror again. “Did they really? Oh, God. That’s embarrassing. I’m surprised you chose to help me if I was that egregiously insulting.”
Mora interrupted. “I thought Rownt appreciated insults.”
Ondry answered. “A well-crafted insult is a work of art. Having a creature half my size imply I’m too weak to carry a dozen brass bowls is simply confusing. Your language use was so poor and your willingness to embrace your own foolishness so childlike that I couldn’t take offense.”
Thinking back, Ondry had started to consider Liam a youngling that day. It wasn’t just his poor language, but his size, his pale color, and his habit of standing a little too close, as though seeking the shelter of an adult body. Ondry had liked the feeling of closeness to another. As a child, he had always felt as if Asdria was too large, too powerful, and too talented at every skill Ondry wished to learn. But having someone look to him for instruction had been enthralling.
Liam rested his head against Ondry’s shoulder. “I am very grateful for that. If you had decided that I was too obnoxious to trade with, life would have been different.” For a time, comfortable silence reigned, broken only by Duke’s snoring. Ondry had to admit that for a predator, he appeared far less threatening that he should have, given his size relative to the palteia.
“Why do I have the feeling it’s not going to turn out as well with me and the Imshee?” Mora asked.
“They will honor the trade.” The Grandmother’s tone made it clear that she would accept no other reality.
“They don’t want to though, do they?” Liam asked.
She took time to answer, giving Liam’s question the respect and silence it deserved. “They likely do not. Since they perceive humans as a potential threat, I would expect them to either avoid human space or invest in attempting to understand humans and identify a weakness.”
Liam sat up. “Now I’m worried that we gave them medical information on humans.”
“I don’t know, humans have been trying to kill each other for so long, that if there were some great Achilles’ heel to the species, I think we would’ve found it by now,” Mora said.
Ondry found that disturbing. The Cy had been that way—turning their anger on themselves more than other species—and they had forfeited all the advantages given them by their superior technology and great age. And now they were irrelevant. Only small populations survived in pockets of the old Cy empire. Since joining the Calti, Ondry had spent considerable time reading about other species, and he was increasingly grateful to have been born Rownt.
“Still, someone should probably warn Command. I don’t want humanity caught off guard,” Mora said.
“The Imshee will not act quickly,” the Grandmother said. “They indulged in hasty action early in the Rownt relationship, and they know they have suffered greatly in trade due to their rash behavior. Most Rownt will not trade with them in space. So the Imshee must take their great ships and wait until such a time as they can schedule a landing on Prarownt. It has increased the Calti’s profits considerably that we are one of only three ships that will meet them in space.”
Mora pulled a leg up, braced his foot on the bench and hugged his knee. “If the Imshee have superior weapons, I’m surprised you let them land on the planet.”
“They land under the watchful eye of the kevent Rownt who maintain surveillance and weapons satellites, both in orbit and stationed on the moons.”
“So they have to trade with a gun pointed at their head,” Liam summarized. Ondry had not considered the Rownt defenses as aggressive symbols, but the image did fit.
“The Calti trades with Imshee ships and their guns are prepared to act against us. We know their ships are more powerful than ours,” the Grandmother said. “I believe that when the Imshee began to trade with us, they did not think that Rownt were useful. And that led them to discount our value as trading partners.”
Liam narrowed his eyes. Rather than amusement or approval, Ondry had learned to associate that expression with discovery or realization. “Who were they trading with back then?” Liam asked.
“The Cy. I believe they expected that relationship to last longer than it did, but I do know that the remaining Cy will trade only with the Imshee.”
“But that is not enough for the Imshee, so now they need new trading partners,” Liam said. “That could get complicated, especially since humanity is far more politically fragmented than the Rownt or Anla, although it sounds like the Cy had a nice dose of self-destructive behaviors.” Liam sounded particularly unhappy about that.
Mora shook his head. “How can you call humans more fragmented? Every Rownt town or ship has its own leader and its own ruling council.”
“Which may compete with each other,” Liam said, “but they are not antagonistic to each other.”
The Grandmother put a hand on Mora’s knee. “Tuk-Palteia Liam is correct. Rownt are far more likely to die out because we move too slowly to adapt to changing conditions. The political fragmentation humans display is foreign to us, and I do not know how the Imshee might handle it. However, since I am Rownt, I am content to wait and watch.”
That appeared to be the final word on it. A pair of Grandmothers lumbered down the stairs, and the one who had been keeping to herself in the corner went to open the main doors and invite others to join them.