Ascending - James Alan Gardner [88]
Therefore, to conserve energy I settled myself onto the floor and attempted to relax every muscle. Lajoolie must have heard me moving, for she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Saving my strength,” I said.
“For what?”
“To avoid enforced hibernation. I do not suppose you have any foodstuffs with you? It could even be opaque if that was all you had.”
“Sorry,” Lajoolie said. “When the captain or admiral gets back, you can ask them for something. The ship’s food synthesizers won’t be working, but I understand there’s a hydroponics facility; that’s a place that grows fresh produce.”
“I know what a hydroponics is,” I told her untruthfully. “I was taught such things in school. Also the elevenses table.”
“You went to school?” Lajoolie asked. “I always thought your planet was…well…”
“Filled with ignorant savages who knew absolutely nothing?”
“Sorry,” Lajoolie said.
It was the second time she had said, “Sorry,” in the past minute…and she had a most abject manner of saying it. I could not see her in the dark, but the way she spoke, I imagined her dropping her head in a posture of crushed self-esteem. Of course, Lajoolie might actually be making rude gestures at me in the blackness; but I did not think so.
I am not such a one as beats around the bush when a person’s behavior puzzles me. “Is there something wrong with you, Lajoolie?” I asked. “Are you psychologically damaged in some way, or do you simply act submissive to put others off their guard? I think it most strange that a muscular woman should constantly quail before the eyes of others, or feign an aura of fragility when she is clearly not fragile at all. Was your spirit broken somehow or is this simply a sham, wherein you pretend to be dainty for some foolish alien reason?”
Off in the darkness, Lajoolie began to cry.
Lajoolie’s Tears
I had never imagined I would make her weep. Though I am clever and warm and most well-intentioned, it turns out I am not always adept at saying the right things to people. As you must know by now, I have not had a great deal of experience in social circumstances; I spent much of my early life with no one to talk with but my sister, and she never burst into tears. At least not until the Explorers came.
So perhaps there are times when my words have an adverse effect. I do not mean to be upsetting; but sometimes it happens, and then I am upset too. It is quite most dismaying to find you have accidentally hurt someone’s feelings. I never intend that ever. And it is just too bad that some people (especially alien people) are so unexpectedly vulnerable.
I never intend to be cruel.
Though I had wanted to conserve my remaining energy, I rose immediately and let myself be guided by the sound of Lajoolie’s whimpers: shuffling blindly through the darkness until I could wrap her in my arms. When I did, the big woman did not push me away. She was seated on the cabin’s unused bed, so I sat beside her and let her sob into my jacket.
After a time, when her tears began to ease, I murmured, “Why are you crying, foolish one? Tell me, and I shall try to make it better.”
“It’s just…” Lajoolie whispered. “It’s just…” She succumbed to more sniffles.
“Come,” I said, “let us talk about this. I inquired whether you were mentally disturbed, and then you began all this fuss. Does that mean you are emotionally damaged? You have been tormented and abused?”
“No,” she answered in a small voice. “I was never abused.” Sniffle, sniffle. “By anyone.” Sniffle, sniffle. “But you thought…you said I was putting on an act, pretending