Starbridge (16 page)

of-Honor. When we select our leaders, each must be judged by the people after her performance in the Arena, as well as on her personal merit as a leader. The Council did not think you would like knowing that we can be violent."

Mahree's jaw dropped, then, abruptly, she was fighting the urge to dissolve into hysterical laughter. Hastily, she put both

98

hands over her mouth so her teeth would not show. She saw Dhurrrkk's crest flatten abruptly. "No, no," she said, sobering instantly. "I am
not
laughing at you! I'm laughing at both our peoples--each worrying that the other would be distressed to find that they were capable of violence!"

He gazed at her wonderingly. "Your people fight, also?"

"Not quite in the same way," she said. "We don't have challenges or duels anymore. But until a couple of hundred years ago, your people would have had a hard time finding any people
more
prone to violence than the human race. And we are still capable of doing terrible things to one another. Now
I'm
telling
you
something my people wouldn't want me to admit, so I will ask you for your silence, in return."

Dhurrrkc made a small chirping, bubbling noise, the Simiu equivalent of a chuckle. "I see," he said. "This is, I think, a good joke on both of us, is it not?"

"It certainly is," she agreed. "These fights ... are they to the death?"

"Not often. Most are conducted as 'ritual hence.' The combatants do not attempt to injure or draw blood. When they give the ritual bite, they do not tear the skin. Ritual-hence encounters are like . . ." he paused, signaled his computer link, then listened intently for the translation, "the word translates best as 'wrestling.' You know of that?"

"Yes, I understand. So you don't use weapons--sharp or blunt objects you hold in your hand to strike blows with--things like knives, clubs, or guns?"

"I have seen 'knives' that you use to eat. What are 'clubs'? And 'guns'?"

She sighed. "A club is a long, heavy piece of material that can be used to injure by striking blows. A gun is an instrument that projects a beam that knocks people out, or disrupts living cells, or even rearranges the molecular structure of matter so it's vaporized instantly."

"Oh, no." Her words had shocked him, Mahree could tell. "Do you mean to tell me that your people actually
use
these 'weapons'?"

"Yes," she admitted, feeling uncomfortable. "Mostly to protect ourselves.

Don't your people use weapons?"

Dhurrrkk' drew himself up. "That would be ultimate dishonor. Even in a death-duel, all we need are these"--he flexed

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powerful, thick-nailed hands--"and these. Your pardon, Honored Mahree, I do this only to show." So saying, he opened his mouth wide, lips pulling back.

Mahree recoiled, startled. She'd never seen a Simiu's teeth before, except for glimpses of the short, squared-off incisors. Dhurrrkk's curved canines gleamed ivory, strong and sharp, and so long she could see where they fitted into grooves in the bottom teeth.

Now
she knew why baring one's teeth was threatening to a Simiu! "I can see why you wouldn't need guns to kill somebody," Mahree said feebly.

"Oh, killing is a most unusual happening, even as the result of a death-challenge," he replied equably. "The winner is usually satisfied by the loser's humiliation and dishonor and does not inflict death. But sometimes death results when the loser proves his complete loss of honor by taking his own life." He shook his head. "That is
very
bad. Then the loser has dishonored his entire clan."

"I understand," Mahree said. "Tell me, Honored Dhurrrkk', are you honor-bound to anyone?"

"No." The Simiu was uncomfortable; his crest drooped. "At home I am regarded as being one who likes to think his own thoughts, go his own way, and thus am not one others desire to know very well. That is why Rhrrrkkeet'

brought me here, I think . . . she hoped to improve the way I am regarded by my peers. There is much honor, much status, to be gained by being chosen to meet you humans."

"You know," Mahree said, smiling, "I was thinking the same thing about myself the other day. I hope for both our sakes it works!"

"So," the young Simiu said, after a long pause, "we have now trusted each other to keep a confidence of grave consequence, were it to be revealed to our elders, correct?"

"Yes," Mahree said. "At least for the time being, until our peoples know each other better, and we decide together to tell them what we've learned from each other."

"Correct," he said. "So, in addition to naming each other friend, we have now taken an honor-bond."

"Does that mean we have to fight to defend each other?" Mahree asked uneasily.

"No, we are not h
onor-bound
to each other. That is for two C

100 A. Crispin

people who have many honor-bonds between them. No, but we must be prepared to do whatever is necessary rather than betray each other's trust.

Do you agree?"

"Yes, I do," she said, after a moment's consideration. "But I think that soon there will have to be complete truth between our peoples."

"I do, too. I know that Rhrrrkkeet' believes so, too. She is arguing for the Council to agree."

"Do you think they will?"

"Eventually. They are often slow to decide, because they must envision every possibility that could result from their actions. It can be frustrating, waiting for them."

Mahree sighed and nodded. "I
know just
what you mean."

"Human governments are like that, too?"

"Oh, yes. Our people are much more alike than I would ever have dreamed."

Dhurrrkk' was puzzled. "But we are very different. Look." He reached over and took her hand, held it up and splayed his own fingers beside hers.

"See?"

She glanced quickly at him, careful not to stare, and smiled. By this time keeping her lips together was almost automatic. "Are we really, Dhurrrkk'?

You're too intelligent to think only of what's on the surface. I know you are."

He considered, and Mahree could tell he was amused. "You are right. How could we have an honor-bond if we were as different as we appear outwardly? It is strange, but I am now realizing that I think of you as more of a friend than most of my classmates."

She nodded, and said in his language, "I think same, Honored Dhurrrkk' my friend."

The violet eyes widened. "You have been practicing! That was almost perfect!"

Mahree grinned. "Damn right."

"Damn? Please, what is that word mean?"

She got to her feet. "I'll tell you on the way over to your place. I want you to ask Rhrrrkkeet' if you can show me around your station again, all right?"

He nodded vigorously. "Ohkkay!"

ci

Dear Diary:

Do you believe in inter-species marriage?

JUST KIDDING!

Seriously, after some of the human boys I've known, Dhurrrkk' would be a
big
improvement. Of course, I'd be robbing the cradle ... he's only ten Sol-Standard years old. Even though Simiu mature faster than we do, he's still relatively younger than I.

It's been over two weeks since we met, and we've both been working hard during our language lessons. Soon I'll feel confident enough to walk up to the First Ambassador and say in understandable Simiu, "Greetings, Honored Rhrrrkkeet'. How are you today?"

Won't that be
great!
Especially if Dhurrrkk' is standing beside me and greeting Uncle Raoul in English!

The honor-bond Dhurrrkk' and I swore is becoming an awkward burden.

Jerry and Rob suspect that the Simiu are hiding something, and last night they asked me if I had any ideas on what it might be. Of course I told them

"no," but I felt guilty saying it.

During our talk, Jerry pointed out something that I'd missed, which is that the Simiu technology we've seen so far is on a par with ours--in some ways it's less advanced. So how come they've forged ahead of us in just
two
areas--

the faster S.V.

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drive and the FTL transmissions? It could be coincidence, but Jerry doesn't think so. Rhrrrkkeet' took the bridge crew on a tour of the space station, and Paul finally got a good look at the S. V. drive on one of the Simiu vessels.

Parts of that drive, Jerry said, bore only a superficial resemblance to the rest of the aliens' technology. He compared it to finding a cryo-crystal memory hooked up to an antique punch- card computer.

What's going on here? And
why?

I was tempted to ask Dhurrrkk', but he'd only tell me under another honor-bond, and that would just be one more thing I couldn't tell anyone else. It's hard enough not letting on that I can understand Simiu without my voder.

The "social hours" continue to be a success, and Uncle Raoul said yesterday that everyone can go from now on. Joan is teaching several Simiu to play chess. They're crazy about it.

Uncle Raoul still won't relax that damned rule about one crew member remaining armed whenever the Simiu are around. I tried again to talk to him about it; he listened politely, then ignored me. Of course, due to the honor-bond, I couldn't explain how disastrous it would be for the Simiu to realize that all along we humans have been wearing
weapons.
We'd be forever dishonored in their eyes.

Lately, Rob and I have been spending a
lot
of time together.

He's with me more often than he is with Yoki, how's that for irony? The bastard still teases me and treats me like his kid sister, damn him.

It's hell working with him. I have to control my reactions when he smiles at me, or tells me I look nice, or gives me a compliment. Once or twice he casually put an arm around my

[ shoulders, and that was the hardest of all. When he touches me I either want to lean against him and feel all my bones dissolve, or I have to fight not to stiffen up and yank away. Either reaction would give me away, and that would be so humiliating I can't bear the thought.

There I go again, running on about my angst, and I promised myself not to do that, because it just makes me depressed. I've been depressed a lot lately.

Possibly it's the letdown from working so hard on the translation interface . . .

or maybe physical weariness from spending several hours each day in the connecting

tube, with its hot, moist air and its higher-than-Earth geefield 103

(Jolie's gravity is slightly less than one gee, so I probably feel it more than the native-born Terrans) ... or perhaps it's just that my period is almost due.

At least I'll get to see Dhurrrkk' in about an hour.

The "social hour" was in full swing. For the first time,
Desiree's
entire crew complement was present, along with twenty Simiu. The two species mingled, chatting via voder, and the connecting tube was noisy and crowded. Dhurrrkk' and Mahree stood by the wall, watching the First Mate give a chess lesson to a young Simiu named Khrekk'.

"No, no! The bishop moves
this
way--diagonally. Like this, see?" Joan demonstrated with the chess piece, her opponent watching every move with wide violet eyes. After a moment, he re-moved the piece to a more orthodox location.

"Yes, that's right," she told him. "Though that move leaves your bishop in a bad spot. Watch what happens to it when I move my rook."

The alien watched with visible distress as the First Mate captured the errant bishop.

"Okay, now it's your move again," Joan announced. Khrekk' shot a glare in her direction, but she was studying the board and didn't see. Quickly, at random, the Simiu grabbed a chess piece. His teacher held up a warning hand.
"Wait,
Khrekk'. Before you move, you'd better
think
about whether that piece is really the one you want to move, and what the consequences of that move will have on all the other pieces on the board."

Slowly, the Simiu replaced the piece and surveyed the board. He evidently found Joan's advice difficult to follow. He fidgeted, fingering the elegant hand-carved wooden pieces, his crest drooping with frustration.

"Khrekk' is not accustomed to losing," Dhurrrkk' said quietly to Mahree, in accented but comprehensible English. He changed to his own language.

"His mother is in the High Council, and he has not had to endure much adversity in his life."

"I can tell that," Mahree said softly in Simiu. "He is getting angry. I wish Aunt Joan had taken a different student for today."

With a growl, Khrekk' dropped his Queen on the floor, then, as he bent to pick it up, the Simiu deliberately jostled the chess board with his elbow, sending the pieces sliding around.

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"Hey!" Joan protested. "Be careful! This set has been in my family for two hundred years!"

Khrekk' sat up, glaring defiantly at Joan, who, with a visible effort, managed to keep her temper, saying, "I know that was an accident,
but please
be careful. This chess set is very precious to me." With a few quick motions, she restored the pieces to their positions. "Now, it's still your move."

Khrekk' angrily picked up his white Queen and slammed it down in front of Joan's black King, then knocked the carved ebony piece over in the traditional manner that indicated defeat.

"No, no!" Joan's voice rose impatiently. "You can't checkmate like that! And even if I were in checkmate,
I'm
the one who's supposed to concede if I've lost.
You
can't go knocking over somebody else's King!"

Khrekk' responded with an emphatic, wordless growl that clearly translated to, "I can so!"

"No, you can't! That's against the rules!" Joan was furious, and no longer trying to hide it.

Concerned, Mahree tried to catch her uncle's eye, but Raoul was deep in conversation with the First Ambassador. The girl frowned, wondering whether she should try to intervene.

As Mahree hesitated, Khrekk' lunged forward and angrily scooped up the ebony King, then, with a single twist of his powerful fingers, snapped it in two.

The First Mate let out a yell and leaped out of her seat. She leaned over the chess board, glaring down at her opponent. "How
dare
you! Talk about poor losers!" She gave a harsh, angry laugh. "They told me you people had a code of honor. Well,
you
sure don't!"