Honor - Kevin Killiany [33]
She might do nothing more than get herself killed as another tree dog, but she had to try.
At last the technicians left. And Solal, carrying his usual lunch, came in, exchanging greetings with the others in passing.
Pattie remained silent as he retrieved her combadge from its hiding place and dragged his chair over. After three days of her refusing anything but distilled water he had stopped offering food.
“Solal,” she asked when he was comfortable. “What am I?”
Solal smiled with what Pattie recognized from years among humanoids as a condescending smile. She knew his answer before he opened his mouth.
“You are a talking animal,” he answered. “A very clever and charming one.”
“And why are you studying me?”
Gesturing with his cheese, Solal said, “Because if I can learn how and why you imitate people, we can avoid problems like we are having with the tree dogs.”
“Solal,” Pattie repeated firmly, making sure his eyes were on her, “how do I imitate people?”
“You talk,” he began—and stopped, looking down at her combadge.
“Yes, I talk,” she said. “Expressing ideas that did not come from you, speaking a language you do not understand but which is made plain to you by a technology you have never seen before.”
Solal did not look up from the combadge.
“Solal, how do I imitate people?”
The young Smaunif looked up at last and met her gaze. His eyes were full of something too confused and subtle for Pattie to read. She wished the lad had antennae so she could better judge his mood. She couldn’t tell if he was on the verge of a breakthrough or racial violence.
“Your gliders landed in a very primitive region of the world you call New Smau,” she said, making sure he tied the unknown technology in his hand to this world and no other. “The people here do not use tools as we do. They do not believe animals should be hunted for food.” That was a guess based on his description of their reaction to hunters. “But the native people you call tree dogs are not animals. They are people. They have a right to live their lives the way they want to live.”
“Like the Smaunif?” Solal asked.
“If you mean a culture on your world that chooses to live simply,” Pattie said. “Then, yes. Like the Smaunif.”
Solal’s eyes focused elsewhere. Some point of infinity between his chair and Pattie’s cage.
“Solal,” she said, trying to find the right balance between gentle and firm, “Sonandal is about to make a terrible mistake. Many innocent and harmless people will die because he does not have all the information he needs to make a responsible choice.”
At least she hoped that was true. It was quite possible the Smaunif leader knew exactly what he was doing in slaughtering the locals. But she didn’t want to confuse Solal further by raising the possibility his personal hero was evil.
“Solal, please give me my combadge and let me out of this cage. We need to help Sonandal. If we do not, he may become responsible for a tragedy. And we will carry the responsibility of not having done what we could have to prevent it.”
The Smaunif’s face suddenly contorted and Pattie started in sudden fear, fighting the reflex to ball. Solal’s body heaved, shuddering with silent sobs.
“What?” Pattie asked, belatedly recognizing grief, feeling the first stab of dread. “What is it?”
“This morning,” Solal gasped between spasms. “They left to kill the tree dogs this morning.”
Chapter
16
Corsi could not move.
The K’k’tict had not appreciated her act of sabotage the night before. Though conceding she had harmed no one, Copper—his eyes now unbandaged and clear—had condemned the hurtful intent of her actions. And the general consensus concurred. Now, aware of her violent nature and knowing she wanted to help, K’k’tict hemmed her in on every side. Held gently immobile, she could see all that was happening but could do nothing about it.
The Tznauk’t had chopped their way through the last meters of woods