'Come here,' Blade said. 'I will not harm you. I want to talk to you.'
Blade halted, stunned. It was impossible and yet it was happening, had happened.
The creature understood him. Blade was speaking in English, as he had always spoken, and the thoughts leaped clear and alive into words.
Yet what came from his lips was a jumble of clicks, trills, and cluttering whistles.
Chapter Three
Blade saw no danger in the thing kneeling before him. They could understand each other. Blade was a Lordsman, whatever that was, and he was supposed to have escaped from a cage. The Cage. Take it from there.
He touched the thing on the shoulder. It trembled and began kissing his feet. 'Forgive me, Lordsman. Forgive me for my fear. I will serve you in any way I can. Only do not destroy me, I beg you. I have not yet 200 kronos of my time. I am yet owed over 300 kronos before my time of destruction.'
'Come with me,' said Blade. 'Obey me exactly and I will not destroy you. Help me, obey me in all things, and perhaps I will extend your kronos.'
He had already spotted the word kronos as being extremely important in this new language which he could speak, and understand, yet not entirely understand. He guessed that kronos had something to do with time, rewards, payment...possibly a great many meanings and nuances. He must bluff his way ahead.
They went down the pebble strewn incline to the pool. The neuter, Blade was now thinking of it so, looked at Blade.
'Permission to drink, Lordsman?'
Blade nodded curtly. He was getting well into the part now. 'Permission.'
The neuter drank thirstily, wiped its mouth on the back of a hand and gazed up at Blade. Its eyes were a pale green, and glinted with what Blade guessed was a secondary, a limited, intelligence. But at the moment he was completely sure of only one thing: this neuter could not harm him, had no wish to harm him, and might be of great help.
The neuter spoke first. 'You will really extend my kronos, Lordsman? Beyond the 500 that is given?'
Blade nodded. He was in it now. Might as well keep on lying and groping.
'Yes. But we will speak of that later. Right now I want your help. I...I have been ill. I escaped from the Cage, as you guessed, but I had a bad fall. I struck my head. And now I do not remember much of anything. I do not know where I am, or what I am doing here. So we must begin at the beginning, you see.'
A hint of a smile. A flicker of cunning mirth in the light green eyes. 'You fell, Lordsman? You did not have too much soka?'
Blade filed that away. Soka. It could only be the native variant of booze. It was a trifle but it made him feel enormously better, like the comfortable echo of some well-known voice.
Then he scowled and made his voice gruff. 'Your name?'
The neuter trembled as though the words had been a physical blow. 'Moyna, Lordsman. Moyna. Kronos 4013 AG, Tier 9, Decantment 4. Destruct Kronos 500. It is all here, Lordsman, as required on my birthplate.'
The neuter raised an arm and pointed to its armpit. Blade stared. The skin there was as smooth, as hairless, as that around the genital and chest area. Beneath the skin, easily decipherable, was a rectangular plaque bearing the information Blade had just been given. Blade read it with ease, as though he had been doing it all his life, and hardly thought it remarkable. He might not understand a damned thing yet, but he was acclimating fast.
He smiled at the neuter. 'All right. You are Moyna. I am Blade!'
The neuter nodded and watched him with bright green eyes. 'I understand, Lordsman. You are Blade. You are one of the Twenty and you have escaped from the Cage. I understand that much, Lordsman Blade. It is nearly time for the Sacer and you are afraid that you would fail, that you would not be chosen. I do not understand that, Lordsman, because it is beyond my cuna but if you say it then it must be so. But how can I make slaveface for you, Lordsman Blade?'
Blade tapped his temple again. 'I told you, Moyna. I struck my head and I have forgotten much. Nearly everything. So you will answer my questions.'
'With all slaveface, Lordsman Blade.'
'Where am I, then? What is this place?'
'You are in Tharn, Lordsman. But of course you must know that much?'
Blade nodded curtly. Lied. 'Yes. That much I remember. In what part of Tharn am I?'
'In Canto 13, Lordsman. The Provo of North Gorge.' The neuter pointed to the fields beyond the hedge. 'This is maniarea Zygote. We are harvesting the mani as always.'
Blade stared at it, remembering what he had heard on first awakening. Mani must be the cotton-like stuff. But not cotton, since it was edible.
'Who is Jargo?' he asked.
The question seemed to puzzle the neuter. It shrugged and blinked green eyes at Blade. 'Jargo, Lordsman? One of the ceboids, of course. A worker beast Of no importance. Why, Lordsman?'
Blade frowned at it. 'You will not ask why! You will only answer. Understand that!'
The neuter began to tremble again and tried to kiss Blade's feet. He pushed it away, not ungently. 'Enough of that. I want food, shelter, and clothing. And a place where we can talk without being disturbed. Can you find those for me?'
