Ascending - James Alan Gardner [145]
“I am Immu,” the black beetle’s fog-voice said. “This is my mate, Esticus.”
The brown beetle (Esticus) clacked all four mandible attachments twice. This was probably a gesture of polite acknowledgment, though to my eyes it looked most fearsome. “So you are spouses?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Immu.14
“Are you the husband or the wife?”
Immu did not answer; the two beetles just stared with their goggly eyes. Perhaps they were offended by my inability to recognize which was male and which female. Since neither of the creatures possessed obvious gender characteristics, I decided to regard Immu as the wife: she was the one who took a leadership role, and besides, she sounded like Festina.
“Are you Shaddill,” I asked, “or Fuentes?”
“We’ve been called both names,” Immu answered, “but it’s not how we speak of ourselves.”
The other one, Esticus, sighed. It was a soft sigh that breathed out another glowing ball of mist. Even before the mist could drift into position above Esticus’s head, the fog murmured, “We are not Shaddill or Fuentes. We are Tahpo.”
I blinked in surprise, and for two reasons. First, the voice that emanated from Esticus’s fog-ball sounded suspiciously familiar: it was my own! It did not sound exactly like the tones I customarily hear in my head, but I have been told one’s voice never sounds the same in one’s own ears as it does to other persons. Furthermore, it made sense that if Immu imitated Festina, Esticus would mimic me. Even so, I did not like the idea of an alien who spoke with my voice; it was most sinisterly creepy, like the first step in acquiring an evil twin.
The other reason I reacted in surprise was because in my language (and therefore in Shaddill-speak too), Tahpo means “the last”…or perhaps a better translation would be “the dregs.” Whatever Esticus meant by the word, Immu disapproved—she nudged him warningly with her hip. Perhaps she did not intend for us to see her action, but she hit Esticus hard enough to make him flinch.
If Festina noticed, she did not comment. Instead, she told the aliens, “We’re honored to make your acquaintance, but the circumstances are unfortunate. Why did you capture our ship? What do you want from us? If we’ve inadvertently offended you in some way…” She glanced in my direction, as if I might have been the one who provoked the Shaddill into reprehensible deeds…which was most unfair, because the Shaddill had started misbehaving first. “If there’s any kind of problem,” Festina said, “let’s discuss it and resolve things amicably.”
Immu made a raspy sound in her throat. I did not know if this was a growl of anger, the Shaddill form of laughter, or simply a clearing of phlegm. “Admiral Ramos,” Immu’s fog-ball said, “we know your reputation—our substitutes for Admirals Rhee and Macleod kept us apprised of all activities in the Outward Fleet. We know you are an intelligent creature; you must realize you have seen too much for us to consider releasing you. This room, for instance.”
She gestured toward the fountain, pointing a claw toward the mini-chili. The small yellow fruit had completely disappeared; now, there was only a mush of jelly. “We don’t know how you found your way here so unerringly,” Immu said, “but it’s a pity we didn’t notice until you had already reached the fountain. Quite possibly, you’ve seen additional secrets on our