Honor - Kevin Killiany [24]
Whoever these people were, they were here to stay.
More immediately significant was a broad road, a dozen or so meters wide, that was being carved through the trees directly toward the rain forest. Progress appeared to have been slow, trees felled near the edge of the cleared area had had time to turn brown. But the leading edge of the incursion was close enough for Corsi to hear the thud of hand axes.
“How long have they been here?” Corsi asked.
Copper batted at his left ear. “Long enough to do what you see.”
“Many meals?” Corsi guessed. It was plain the K’k’tict didn’t measure time. “I’ve been meaning to ask: What does that left-ear gesture mean?”
“Surprise, embarrassment, confusion.”
“Ah. We do this for the same thing,” Corsi slapped her forehead.
“Yours is a violent people,” Copper said.
“Many would agree with you. But we have learned to moderate our violent nature through reason and compassion.” She indicated the clear-cut forest below. “That is not the work of my people.”
Copper batted at his left ear again.
“However, my people are not the only ones of this general design,” Corsi added, spreading her arms to indicate her two-arm, two-leg construction. “If we could get closer, I may be able to tell you who these rude guests of yours are.”
Copper began descending, which Corsi took as expressing a willingness to take her closer to the strangers.
The forest floor beneath the giant banyans was covered with a variety of fernlike plants, most only about knee-high; chest-high on K’k’tict. There was no real underbrush, and the areas between banyan root systems were like broad boulevards. It was Corsi’s impression the trees and ferns got larger closer to the volcanoes.
As soon as the invaders hacked their way to the edge of the banyan forest, it would be an easy march to the K’k’tict tree town.
“[unintelligible noise] and [unintelligible noise] will go with us,” Copper announced, indicating Spot and Lefty from among the several K’k’tict waiting at the base of the tree. “The experience will aid their [maturity/education].”
Corsi revised her earlier theory that Spot and Lefty had not spoken in the presence of the leaders because they were of a lower caste. Apparently they were youngsters.
The three immediately headed in the direction of the strangers. Some of the remainder settled down to await the expedition’s return, while a few headed back toward the tree town.
“Do your names mean anything?” Corsi asked after they had gone a short distance. If she was going to communicate, she’d have to address individuals as something besides hey, you. “Corsi is a shortened form of the name for an island my family came from.”
“Our names are our names,” Copper said, stopping. “We are who we are, not where we are.”
“I understand.” Corsi decided to set aside explaining that Domenica meant Sunday to a species that did not measure time. It was tempting to leave the name issue alone, but she had no idea how long she would be among the K’k’tict and clear communication was essential.
“My combadge does not comprehend, and renders your names as sounds I cannot emulate,” she explained. “Do you have simplified names?”
Blank stares all around.
“Would it be offensive if I gave you nicknames so that I might indicate individuals?”
“What names?” Copper asked.
“Well, your coloration is the feature most apparent to my eyes,” Corsi said cautiously, aware external coloration was the galaxy’s most common source of prejudice. Seeing only expectation in her listeners, she went on. “I think of you as Copper, you as Lefty, and you as Spot.”
Lefty bowed her head low to the ground and began shaking it back and forth. Spot began batting her left ear furiously. For his part Copper seemed content to watch the other two.
“What did I say?” Corsi asked, concerned. “Did I give offense?”
“Spot has been