“I see,” said the commander, and though its face was rigid as a fibernut shell, Talis could tell it was amused. “Sneak. We have a similar concept.”
The alien said a word in its own language, which sounded like a small army of chickens tripping over each other in a patch of gravel.
It looked at her, and she realized she was being offered the word to try on her own. As if somehow she could speak from three parts of her anatomy simultaneously.
She gave it an honest effort, aware of the otherwise silent bridge, and winced at how unlike the model it sounded.
The alien repeated the word, with its guttural purrs, clacking vibrato, and overlaying hiss. Meaning clearly that she should try again. She felt a bit like a schoolchild being singled out in class for a mistake. But after a few tries they settled on a pronunciation she could handle.
That’s if she could remember it.
“Admirable, Captain Talis,” the alien said, quite politely.
Patronizing her. She would need at least several new bones in her jaw and an extra throat to pronounce the tri-part language, but she thanked the commander for the lesson.
Satisfied, it returned its attention to the navigation charts.
“As to the matter of the border passage, I would prefer to avoid the storm and rejoin you on the other side. As you say, no one has impeded our travels before.”
“If you haven’t been through a storm center yet,” Talis suggested, “it’s quite the experience.”
“We have,” said the alien, “and it was. Our ship’s systems are impaired in such places. The charged ions in the cloud render our systems unreliable.”
Talis tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear and nodded. It was no disappointment to her. If they didn’t have to fly with the aliens at their backside, so much the better.
“Fair enough. All right, let’s meet… here.” She pointed to a location just off the edge of Fall Island.
“Agreed,” said the commander.
At a gesture, a bridge officer nodded to the commander and entered the information on a live display nearby.
“When should we expect you to arrive?”
“About three days, assuming we don’t run into trouble.”
“We will meet you at your chosen location in three days, then.”
Sophie caught Talis’s eye and made a small tilt of her head paired with raised eyebrows. Talis remembered what she’d promised the girl.
“But say we do happen to run into a border patrol,” Talis said, trying to keep it casual, “is there any way we could contact you?”
“Of course,” said the commander, sounding pleased. “We ought to have provided you a means to contact us yesterday.”
The commander made a gesture with its hand.
Talis saw Sophie’s shoulders twitch. At least the girl didn’t hop and clap her hands. Admirable restraint. To cover her excitement, she busied herself with rolling up her charts and stowing them.
A new Yu’Nyun approached with one of the glossy black tablets. This one was dressed at a level of simplicity on par with the four ship escorts but in fabric far more detailed than that of even the bridge crew.
The alien captain introduced the newcomer, sounding a name with a long breath’s worth of hisses around a clacking consonant at its core.
Talis inclined her head, and the named alien returned the gesture. It clasped the pad to its thorax, hands crossed over it.
A suspicion occurred to Talis, and she did not like it. The captain spoke again, confirming her fears.
“Xe is a skilled interpreter, Captain Talis, as well as a scholar of linguistics. It was xe who provided my education in the local dialect. Xe has read more books from the local cultures than even I, and has interviewed many of the indigenous people during our explorations. Perhaps while you travel, xe will be able to assist in your edification of our language.”
Words, in any language, drained from her. She had a tiny distracted thought that the aliens had finally made some indication of gender, though she had no idea how ‘xe’ might parallel to anything she was familiar with. But mostly her mind was consumed with the desire to run from the bridge before they could install any more emissaries on her ship.
She had promised her crew—promised herself—that the aliens would be only a shadow in their wake as they traveled. She inwardly cursed at not having been more direct with her request for a tablet.
“Forgive me, Captain, but I’m afraid our ship may not be well-suited to hosting your officer. I would be loath to insult—” She caught on the pronoun, unsure of how to shift its use. “—Yu’Nyun sensibilities with our poor accommodations.”
“I appreciate your concern,” spoke the alien in question. “However, I have traveled in your people’s aircraft on several occasions and am accustomed to their design. I assure you, the underground cities of the Rakkar are far less accommodating, and I was delighted to be hosted even in their spaces.” The words flowed with the cadence of a poem, and betrayed only a whisper of an accent. Scholar of linguistics, indeed.
No protest would pass, she realized. Ran a few more through her mind anyway.
“There is also the matter of diet,” she said, grasping at an idea. “I believe our food is unpalatable to your digestive system?”
“Details.” The captain turned its face away and raised an open hand. It was apparently not fond of details. “Not to worry, Captain Talis. Xe will travel with xist own food supplies, which I promise will not be an inconvenience to your personnel.”
That was it. That was all she had, except the xenophobia that had inspired her protests.
These are your business partners, she reminded herself. Make them happy—that’s good business.
She smiled at the commander and at the linguist.
“If it is truly no inconvenience, we would be honored to host you aboard Wind Sabre until we rendezvous in three days.”
Sophie’s eyes were as big as saucers, but Talis couldn’t see past the girl’s shock to tell if it was more of her curiosity or the same crawling revulsion that Talis
