Spooner’s smile was malicious. “They would have ripped his head off his body. Literally. I’m hoping to find one or two others, so there’s still a chance someone will pay for what happened to Liam.”
Luke felt better knowing that Liam had good friends in his corner, even if Luke had spent most of his life condemning his brother. “Do you want to go get my mother’s datachip or do you want to go back to your place and look through your research?”
“Why don’t you come to my place,” Spooner said. “I need to stop and pick up some alcohol before we go there.” Maybe Luke let his confusion show because Spooner added, “You’ll need it before we’re done, but remember. If Rownt rip a head off someone’s neck, it leads to diplomatic immunity warnings. You and I would go to prison.”
Luke had no words, especially since he didn’t know what he might see in those records. Clearly, Liam had been hurt far more than Luke had understood. Maybe their mother hadn’t even known the full story. But now Luke felt as if he had an obligation to get to know his brother. He wanted to know the sort of man who could inspire such loyalty.
Introduction to Xenolinguistics
Debbie studied the sea of fresh-faced neophytes. For a time, she panned the vid so her office screen would show her class. She could already divide them into rough camps based on their seat choices and expressions. Proxemics, oculesics, and kinesics weren’t covered until much later in their training, so right now they exerted absolutely no control over how their bodies were shouting without even using words.
The three young men and two women in front were either serious students or wanted to present themselves as serious students. They were busy with their tablets, and Debbie’s monitoring program reported that all five were reviewing the class text. A small group near the window chatted away, their bodies twitching with sexual interest. There was nothing wrong with that as long as they focused on the work once Debbie started the lecture.
A range of less confident students filled the middle section. Debbie groaned when she saw that two of them were reading Lost Words: The Unauthorized Biography of Lieutenant Liam Munson. That piece sensationalized Munson’s life—made him out to be some poor wounded soul abandoned by the system and abused by the authorities.
Debbie had no idea how anyone could fall for that crap. Munson was a linguistic genius who had made the rare leap out of his culturally enforced point of view into the Rownt perspective. Advances in translation could only be made after someone had navigated that chasm, and to reduce Munson’s contribution to luck and some lost puppy personality was incredibly offensive. The man had studied Rownt language before taking the post on Prarownt, and had then spent years working to collect language samples and form relationships with natives.
His willingness to immerse himself in a new culture opened opportunities for the entire human race. The populace might’ve been fascinated with the Rownt because of a few vid shots of a female visiting a hospital and the young male trying to protect Lieutenant Munson in a crowd. However, those involved in Command were more interested in the technology and raw materials the Rownt could provide. They were certainly better potential allies than the Anla. And Munson had made all that possible.
She made a note of which students were reading that trash in her classroom. They would have to show much more dedication to linguistics if they wanted to follow in Munson’s footsteps. Assuming that an alien species would feel sorry for someone and take him home was stupid. And Debbie did not like wasting her time on stupid students.
She turned her monitor off and sighed. It was time for one more semester of teaching people who could never hope to achieve the linguistic genius of Colonel Diallo or Lieutenant Munson. Sometimes she regretted ever becoming a teacher. However, someone had to set the next generation of linguists on the path, and that was her responsibility.
Kensho Part One
Colonel Haru Ito watched the security monitor as Liam Munson walked off the Rownt shuttle. He waited to see if the male Rownt would follow, but Munson appeared to be alone. Perhaps he planned to come to explain why Tuk-Ondry was unavailable to discuss the Tura Coalition trade. The osmium Ondry had offered was valuable, but not as critical as the alloys the Grandmothers could offer.
Haru had no doubt that Command had asked him to handle Ondry’s trade only because the generals chose to focus on the Grandmothers with their more extensive resources. The idea of allowing one gender to control all major sources of trade goods seemed ridiculous, but Haru would still take the Rownt with their odd gender beliefs over the treacherous Anla.
Munson walked up to the sergeant waiting at the vehicle, and Haru leaned closer to the screen. At first he thought the camera angle was somehow distorting the image, but then Munson stepped up to the sergeant driving the escort vehicle and towered over him. “Lieutenant?” he called to his aide.
Lieutenant Ratos appeared at the door. “Sir?”
Haru turned the monitor so Ratos could view it as well. “How tall is the sergeant you sent out to meet Munson and Ondry?”
“Sir?” Ratos stepped closer and peered at the screen for several seconds before he answered. “Sergeant Balza-Zavala has to be at least six-feet-tall.”
That was impossible. “Find me the records for how tall each of them is,” Haru ordered as his comm began to flash.
“Yes, sir.” Ratos vanished, and Haru waited a second before answering his comm. “Colonel Haru Ito speaking.”
“Colonel,” a familiar voice said, “are you watching the disembarkment ?”
“Yes, sir,” Haru said. “My aide says the sergeant is at least six feet, but if that’s the case, Munson appears to have grown significantly.”
“The computer estimates height at seven-feet-three-inches, but there’s a two-inch margin of error.”
Haru blew out a breath. Munson didn’t appear malformed, so whatever had happened, his entire body had grown proportionally.
“Needless to say, we are interested in information,” General Dafaor said, “and Zach Mora has not yet made contact. If we want to know what’s going on, we may need to go through Ondry and Munson.”
“Sir, the Rownt doesn’t appear available to trade. I will attempt to draw Munson into a conversation and get information on what might have happened.” Haru let his tone communicate his doubt. Munson had no reason to engage in small talk, not given his background.
“Do what you can,” the general said before hanging up. Haru closed the connection and put his comm down. One of his monitors showed a newsvid reporter standing beside a small crowd of determined protesters with anti-Rownt signs. Every time the Rownt came to one of the human planets, they brought drama. The xenophobic churches had any number of conspiracy theories about the enormous ship the Rownt kept outside the moon’s orbit—the Calti.
Haru wasn’t sure what to think about a ship named for a philosophy that confirmed the inability of a sentient creature to understand the universe or the harm caused by that ignorance. The briefing he had read sounded entirely too much like the Buddhist concept of Avidya for him to believe it was coincidence. Perhaps Rownt were part of the tapestry of the moral universe in a way that Haru had trouble believing the Anla were.