Kensho (Claimings)

by Lyn Gala

  “Mr. Tsang,” Ito said sharply. “Insulting someone who is not present to defend himself is beneath you.”

  Tsang held his ground, but his scent took on a sour undertone. “Then explain what role humans have on your ship.”

  Ito stepped between them and faced Tsang. “That is not your business.”

  The Grandmother moved rather than pushed Ito aside. “They have whatever role a Rownt would have in the same circumstances. Liam trades. Zach researches. Their status is as Rownt.” She curled her lip farther. Liam had judged this man to be more Rownt than the average human, so she believed he had some purpose in provoking her anger.

  Ito turned to her. “Perhaps this is not a good time. We can return later.”

  She ignored him and focused on Tsang. The sour scent intensified, but he remained outwardly untouched.

  “And do Rownt offer that same respect to other species?” Tsang asked.

  Ito sucked in a breath—a strong if unfamiliar reaction. If he were Rownt, she might suspect the sound was related to an angry hiss, but neither human showed other signs of aggression.

  She studied Tsang. While her understanding of humans was rather limited, Ito’s reaction suggested that his questions fell outside the boundaries of polite behavior. “We respect the Imshee and the Cy, although we attempt to avoid the latter. We do not respect the Anla.”

  Something in Tsang’s scent shifted at the mention of the Anla. “Why don’t you respect them?”

  The answer was complex and relied on an understanding of Rownt culture. Neither she nor the other Grandmothers could engage with a species with an inability to avoid harming others. Zach had expressed distress at the Imshee’s resemblance to an insect, but as far as she was concerned, Anla with their mindless followers were far more similar to human ants and bees and other hive-oriented species. And even among Anla leaders, the Grandmothers had no evidence of any motive other than achievement. She thought no more of killing Anla than of killing a kawt who had begun hunting too close to her eggs. She valued Duke’s life more than any Anla.

  Given that humans held themselves to a standard that required empathy for even adults who should be able to function without assistance, she had no idea how humans had ever thought trade with the Anla possible. However, she chose words carefully. Had she known the conversation would turn to such matters, she would have requested Liam’s assistance.

  “Rownt adults will compete with one another, but a Rownt of the upper ranks who trades with the unranked or young will ensure the trading partner achieves success. To claim a profit off one who cannot protect her own interests is unacceptable. That is why we protect palteia. They are adults and earn rank, but they will never protect their own interests, so to take advantage of them offends the temple.”

  “And the Anla?” Tsang asked.

  She was slow to answer, but Tsang appeared willing to wait. And Ito, for all his discomfort, remained silent. She said, “They offend the temple to such an extent that we will not speak with them. If their ships pursue ours, we will either ignore them or destroy any that are in our way, but we will not engage the Anla.”

  “Perhaps we should leave.” Ito moved closer to the Grandmother, but she waited for some sign from Tsang. Reasonable traders might walk around a town a dozen times, but they would stop when they had learned all they needed to find their profit. No doubt he searched for some information she did not understand.

  Tsang’s gaze flickered over toward Ito before he said, “Our government promised that the Anla could provide technology and an understanding of the universe.”

  “How unfortunate,” she said. Humans lived so few years that they were likely to make errors, and that had been a grievous one. Liam had explained that Anla had taken children, hoping to improve their trading position, and the humans’ attempt to recover the offspring had led to their deaths. She would have happily lent her experience and ship to recover the children, and if she had caused the death of many Anla, she would have counted that as improving the universe in general.

  Tsang stood. “Now our government promises that the Rownt can provide technology and raw materials we need to explore the universe.”

  She hissed and showed all her teeth. Her anger was so great that she spoke in Rownt before typing her response into her computer. “Do not compare Rownt to the eggless Anla.”

  Again, Ito stepped between them. “We truly do need to leave. Grandmother, I have chosen a gift to offer the temple if we can return to the base.” He offered her an abbreviated bow.

  “Why should I believe my government about the benefits you offer to the people of Earth?” Tsang demanded as he moved to Ito’s side.

  She trilled at the suggestion that she had any interest in benefiting another. “The only people of Earth I would ever help would be children or palteia. If your officers engage in stupidity like trading with Anla, I have no interest. Were you to anger one of the few remaining Cy ships and it came to destroy your planet, I would remove as many children as possible and flee, leaving the rest of you to die. If I trade here it is because I smell profit in a young species who still trades in vegetables while others steal the meat from their table.”

  Ito’s eyes grew large. In humans that would indicate alarm rather than curiosity. Tsang, on the other hand, nodded and sat again. “Have you told the government as much?”

  “Many times,” she said.

  He huffed. She still found it disconcerting that humans used so many Rownt gestures, but assigned such different values to them. “So the government is lying to us.”

  “We are not,” Ito protested loudly. “The Rownt are allies and the constant fear-mongering and protests are unnecessary.”

  Tsang ignored him. “You cite the Cy as a danger,” he said to her. “Would Rownt ever attack the planet?”

  She paled. “I would avoid any action which would result in the deaths of children or palteia. Attacking your planet would necessitate both. However, if you posed an immediate threat to my ship or the young on it, I would have to consider any action. I would attempt to choose the least destructive path to remove any danger.”

  “‘Attempt’. So there are conditions under which you don’t try to minimize damage,” Tsang summarized.

  She could understand why Liam had thought him almost Rownt. He was far more direct than most humans she had traded words with, and he knew what questions to ask. She considered leaving, but she too feared that misunderstandings could lead their species down a dangerous path. No doubt Ito would report back to his officers, and they needed to consider the dangers. The Rownt had learned after they lost one ship to the Imshee, but she was unsure as to whether the humans had learned their lesson after the Anla took their children. Zach and Liam were certainly trusting, more so than their palteia nature would explain.

  “A Rownt who has lost reason while chasing anger or vengeance or some sense of justice wronged is a dangerous creature,” she confirmed. She had said similar words to the generals, but in that room, none of their scents had ever shifted. She did not know whether she spoke a truth so obvious it had not needed saying or if they doubted her warning. However Tsang’s scent did shift. It grew less bitter and more acidic. “If offspring or palteia under my care died, I would not wish for any sentient creature to remain in my path because I will not assume my age would be enough to overcome my anger.”

  “Any creature can be dangerous under the right circumstances. I told my son-in-law as much.” Tsang turned his back to her. “He ignored me and took my only grandchild, the son of my late daughter, to a planet that the government promised would be the center of the new Anla alliance.” His voice was soft, but the tone had become brittle, like the vocal cords had been pulled tight.

  “Was he among the children taken by the Anla?” the Grandmother asked.

  Tsang nodded.

  The shrewdest trader cared little for profit when a child was lost. She understood that. She had lost her first child to a flood, and she still carried the pain of tha
t life lost. She always would. Sometimes she wondered what path he would have walked and whether he would have resembled his father as he grew. She had left her next three egglings on the doorsteps of others because having a child in her nest had reminded her too much of her son and her own failings as a mother to protect him. She could blame no one for the flood other than gods who did not exist, but Tsang’s pain would be harder to bear because he could see those who carried a fraction of the blame while his status would not allow him to demand punishment.

  “A Rownt might have committed great violence against those whose foolish advice led to the loss of a child,” she said.

  Tsang turned. “I considered it. Those protestors who want you off the planet... they remember what the government said, and they are considering violence. Lots of people are fascinated by you, but some of us... forgetting is harder.” Tsang unlocked the glass that protected the Aizen Myo-o.

  “Rownt rarely forget.” She wished to return to the ship and speak to Liam about this pain. If the presence of the Calti hurt those who had suffered such loss, remaining would be disrespectful. She turned to leave, and Ito ran to get in front of her and open the door. Already he spoke into his communication device.

  “Grandmother,” Tsang called. She turned, careful that her tail did not damage any art. He walked over with the statue in his hands. “Aizen Myo-o teaches us that human flaws can be turned to positive motivations, but he also reminds us that those flaws rule us if we don’t work to transform them. He reminds us that most people are ruled by base emotions.” He held it out to her in both hands.

  Slowly, and with reverence for the gift, she accepted it. The wood was smooth under her fingers and up close, the detail even more impressive. She headed for the door. Behind her, Ito spoke quickly.

  “That is a wonderful gift. Thank you. I am sure the Grandmothers appreciate your generosity.”

  “I don’t need thanks,” Tsang said, and even the Grandmother could hear the anger in his tone. She walked to the car and considered how to best enter it with such a priceless piece of art in her care. If Tsang were Rownt, she would suspect that he had offered the temple gift as a warning—a reminder that humans could rise above their animal nature or lose themselves to it. They were a difficult species, not as easy to dismiss as the Anla or as consistent in their needs as the Imshee. If he were a general, she would suspect that he hoped a temple gift would open new avenues of trade.

  As a Grandfather, his motives were his own. His pain was worthy of respect and silence so she would ask Zach to discuss the issue of human loss. He had strong family ties. And in the meantime, the Aizen Myo-o would have a place of honor in the temple.

  Ito got into the car. The vehicle was so large that he resembled an eggling sitting in a seat built for an adult. “Grandmother, I apologize for any offence Mr. Tsang may have offered. The Rownt are nothing like the Anla, and to imply as much...” He shook his head.

  “A grieving parent need not apologize for any illogic. No one has enough years to forget the loss of a child,” she said.

  Ito drew a quick breath, but then he fell silent as they drove back to the Command building.

  Kensho Part Six

  Liam stood at the apartment door and pressed his hand to the entrance chime. He wondered if the government had added his fingerprints to the public database. If so, Mr. Tsang might not answer his door. Honestly, Liam hoped he wouldn’t. He had offered to carry a message for the Grandmother, but he had no idea what to say to a man who had lost his daughter and grandchild.

  The door remained stubbornly closed for a long time, but Liam stood with his hand on the chime and he waited. He had lived with the Rownt long enough to understand the value of patience, especially with a man who appeared more Rownt than human in his reactions. Minutes passed. Cars travelled the road and a pair of laughing youngsters ran in the opposite direction as the moving sidewalk, racing the mechanics of it as well as each other.

  The door opened, and Tsang demanded, “What do you want?”

  Liam gestured to the box at his feet. “I came with a pair of sculptures from the Grandmother.”

  “I didn’t ask for payment.” Tsang went to slam the door, but Liam put his foot inside the shop to prevent the door from closing.

  “She isn’t offering payment. She asks that you hold the pieces and either she will collect them when we return or she will collect whatever goods you have taken in trade.”

  Tsang opened the door and studied Liam as if he were a particularly disgusting spider that had landed on his eggs. The silence grew longer, but Liam was used to Rownt. He waited.

  “She wants me to take pieces on commission?” Tsang’s gaze darted down to the box, but it was closed. Inside was a pair of statues: a male Rownt cradling a child and a female Rownt holding the hand of an eggling struggling to walk. The child was so young that his tail touched the ground and it had an arch in it that suggested the young one sought to balance himself using it. They were exquisite pieces that showed every ounce of emotion. The eggling in the male’s arms was unhappy, and the parent glurbled in comfort. When Liam looked at the shape of the mouth and the muscles along the neck of the small statue’s form, he could almost hear the sound.

  And the female who held the male eggling’s hand was proud as her offspring showed such determination to walk so early. His face was twisted with the effort and muscles stood out as he tried to balance a body that wasn’t yet ready for it.

  After a long silence, Tsang said, “I don’t do that.”

  Liam sighed. “You’re being an asshole on purpose. You’re an art dealer, so most of your pieces are probably on commission.”

  “But they aren’t from an alien.” Tsang was angry now. Liam wished she had told him the content of Tsang’s message, but shortly after she had come back to the ship, she had sought out Zach and then all the Grandmothers had vanished into the upper levels of the temple where even tuk-status individuals could not follow.

  “Offering you this... it’s her way of saying she respected whatever message you sent her.”

  That surprised Tsang. He took a step forward, which required him to open the door more. “I told her that I didn’t trust her.”

  “She would have respected that. She has often commented on human stupidity in the area of trust.” Liam suspected the Rownt would have happily avoided humans or at the very least continued to limit them to contact only through the trading centers on Janatjanay except they found that humans could produce palteia.

  “Does she think we should drive the Rownt away from Earth and our territories?”

  That had taken a sudden turn Liam had not expected. “Trying to do that would be stupid because they have so much more technology. If Earth ships opened fire, the Rownt could turn big chunks of the planet into steaming holes.”

  “I thought they had respect for life.” Tsang crossed his arms. Maybe Liam had woken him because the subtlety of earlier was gone, replaced with unvarnished anger that Liam didn’t understand.

  “They respect the lives of children and palteia, and they don’t take life for no reason. But you asked about Earth driving Rownt ships away. Short of Earth opening fire, Rownt wouldn’t engage in violence. However, she does think humans should worry more about traders who don’t show both hands.” A passing car illuminated the shop, catching Tsang in the bright beams of the headlights. His eyes were swollen and red.

  “My neighbors are too curious. Get in here.” Tsang retreated into his shop. In other circumstances, Liam would have left the box on the doorstep and fled the scene, but he had agreed to deliver the statues, and Liam would not risk losing such beautiful pieces of art. He followed Tsang.

  The shop was dimly lit. “Where is your government minder?” Tsang asked.

  That was a touchy subject. “I used Rownt technology to avoid human security,” Liam said. “The Grandmother adamantly insisted I not bring government officials to your door.”

  Tsang didn’t respond. He stared off at the shadows.
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  “Whatever you said, it has led her to respect the position of the protestors. We will not return to Earth for many years, if ever.” Liam wasn’t sure what he thought of that. He had lost Earth a long time ago, but this felt like a door closing.

  Tsang didn’t turn around. “I won’t thank you for that.”

  “I don’t see why you would.”

  “Did the Grandmother tell you why I wanted her off the planet?”

  “No.” Liam placed the box on the display case and pulled out the statues. Between the subject of the art and Tsang’s evident grief, Liam could make a few guesses, although he still didn’t understand how a lost child had convinced the Grandmothers that the protestors were the most rational humans on the planet and staying disrespected them.

  The statues were heavy, carved from solid stone. Liam put the first near Tsang’s elbow. It was the male with the baby. His face was love. It was wonder and protection and comfort. Liam pulled out the matching partner. The female’s face was love and pride and determination. These were the Rownt Liam knew, and now the Grandmother hoped to show Tsang.

  He turned his head. Even in the dull light, the iridescent creams and pale green of the stone shone. Maybe it shone because the light was so dim.

  Tsang touched the walking eggling with reverence before he turned the statue so he could see it more fully. His fingers traced the eggling’s features, the length of his tail and the arm thrown out to the side to help him keep his balance. Tsang’s fingers explored every line the artist’s chisel had once followed.

  “Get out,” Tsang said, a tremor in his voice.

  Liam collected the box and packing materials. He hesitated for a moment. Tsang continued to stare at the statues, his hand moving to the baby in the male’s arms. Not knowing any words to ease the grief that filled the room, Liam left, closing the door behind him.

  Farewells

  The barracks-style apartments were tiny; doors to individual units were only eight or ten feet apart at most. However, the place was clean and quiet. Liam had lived in much worse accommodations, but he’d been spoiled by the sense of space and privacy on the Rownt ship. Here, the weight of dozens of eyes annoyed him. However, today was Framkie’s day off, and Liam was determined to see him before the Calti left Earth.