The Best of Kim Stanley Robinson

by Johnathan Strahan

  Rumford stepped forward to offer some kind of greeting to the Iggglas, make sure the Ba'arni didn't have to. Touchy situation. He had dealt with Iggglas before; they came from the next planet in, and used Rannoch Station as a trade center. Trade again. Remarkable what kind of thing it put you in contact with, out in this stellar group. Certainly had to get used to these creatures. Language of theirs very loud and squawky. Every once in a while they'd spit in each other's mouths for emphasis. Some kind of chemical transfer of information. Box wasn't equipped to deal with that, luckily. Their speech was enough, although it appeared to be an odd grammar. Lacked tenses, or even verbs for that matter. Another indication of different reality.

  The Iggglas liked to stick out a claw and shake humans by the hand, maybe to see if they would vomit. But Rumford could do it with hardly a quiver. No worse than a cockroach in the hand, certainly. So he shook hands with the wet claw of the biggest Igggla. Hot bodies, high metabolism. It turned its head to the side to inspect him with its left eye. Foul smell, like asafoetida.

  Two of the other Iggglas led a long string of little furball creatures, a bit like rabbits without legs, up to the one Rumford had shaken hands with. Rumford sighed. Probably the high metabolisms, but still. Note the others weren't doing it—

  Abruptly the biggest one snapped that gar's head down and devoured the first rabbit-thing in line, swallowing it whole so that it disappeared instantly, as in a conjuring trick. The Igggla would interrupt itself to do the same throughout the rest of the interview. It made Rumford nervous.

  The Igggla squawked loudly and at length. "Croownekkkseetrun-p!" it sounded like. Rumford turned on the translator, switched it to Iggglas and typed in the message, "Again, please."

  After a short interval the box made a short screech. With a loud honk and a quick drumming of its talon-like feet, the big Igggla squawked its initial message again.

  A moment later a message appeared in print on the small screen of the translator box. "Hunger interrogative."

  The Igggla batted one of the worried-looking rabbit-things forward.

  "No thank you," Rumford typed steadily, and waited for the box to speak. Then: "Why do you come to Rannoch interrogative."

  The head Igggla listened to the box's hooting, did a quick hopping dance, struck one of the other Iggglas in the head, and replied.

  The box's screen eventually produced a sentence. "Warlike viciously now descendant death fat food flame death."

  A typical grammatical artifact produced by the box when dealing with the Iggglas. Rumford pondered it, switched the box to Ba'arni, and typed in "The Iggglas express a certain hostility toward the Ba'arni."

  The box whistled and clicked in the oddly high-pitched Ba'arni language. The Ba'ar on the left, which was not the same one that had spoken to Rumford at first, whistled and clicked in reply. The box's screen printed out, "Tell them we are ready to (x-click B-flat to C-sharp click sequence; see dictionary) and the hateful poison birds will die in traditional manner."

  Hmm. Problems everywhere. With the Iggglas you got grammatic hash. With Ba'arni, too many trips to the dictionary. Which was a problem in itself. The box was not entirely satisfactory, and that was the truth.

  Needed to be seated to type on the keyboard properly, too. So, despite the fact that it might seem undignified, Rumford sat on the ground between the two parties of aliens, called up the Ba'arni dictionary function of the box, and typed in an inquiry. The definition appeared quickly:

  "X-click B-flat to C-sharp click sequence: 1. Fish market. 2. Fish harvest. 3. Sunspots visible from a depth of 10 meters below the surface of the ocean on a calm day. 4. Traditional festival 5. Astrological configuration in galactic core."

  Rumford sighed. The Ba'arni dictionary could be nearly useless. Never sure if it was really serious. No idea who actually wrote the thing. Basic programming provided by linguists working for the company that made the box, of course, but in the years since then (and it was a very old box), its various owners had entered new information of their own. In fact this one was jammed with languages that factory-new boxes didn't have. No other box Rumford had seen had a Ba'arni program; that was why Rumford had bought this one when it was offered by a passing spacecraft pilot. But who in fact had added the Ba'arni program? Rather puckish individual, from the look of it. Or perhaps the Ba'arni relied more than most on context. Some languages like that. Impossible to be sure. The box had worked to this point, and that was all Rumford could say about it. Trade a different matter, however. Not quite as delicate as this.

  After thinking it over, Rumford typed in another question to the Ba'arni. "Clarification please. What do you mean by x-click B-flat to C-sharp click sequence, in context of previous sentence interrogative."

  The Ba'arni listened, and the one on the left replied.

  "Ba'arni and poison birds fight war in (z-click double sequence; see dictionary) cycle that now returns. Time for this ritual war."

  Very good. Clear as a bell. Unfortunate message, of course, but at least he understood it. Must have meant definition four, perhaps tied to the timing of three, or five. Add new definition later.

  Before he could convey the Ba'arni sentiments to the Iggglas, the chief Igggla ate another rabbit-thing, danced in a circle and screeched for quite some time. The box hummed a bit, and the screen flickered.

  "Fine fiery wonderful this land always again war's heat slag battlefield dead fat food flame death yes now."

  Rumford squinted at the screen.

  Finally he typed in, "Clarification please: where is location of ritual war interrogative," and sent it to the Iggglas.

  The chief Igggla replied at length, howling shrilly.

  On the screen: "Fine fiery wonderful this land always again war's heat slag battlefield dead fat food flame death yes now yes."

  The Iggglas were not much on clarification.

  Rumford decided to ask the same of the Ba'arni, and switched the box over. "Clarification please: where is location of ritual war interrogative."

  The box whistled, the Ba'ar on the left clicked. The screen flickered and printed out: "Clarification unnecessary as poison birds know every twelve squared years for twelve cubed years ritual dodecimation has taken place on same ritual ground. Tell them to stop wasting time. We are ready for conflict."

  A small vertical line appeared between Rumford's eyebrows.

  He switched back and forth from Iggglas to Ba'arni, asking questions concerning this ritual war, explaining that the questions were essential for proper translation. Every Iggglas answer a long string of violent nouns, adjectives, and so forth, with never a verb. Every Ba'arni answer a hunt through the dictionary. Slowly Rumford put together a picture of Ba'arni and Iggglas contingents battling each other. Ritual phrases from the Ba'arni concerned Air people opposition water people destruction land, and so on. The Iggglas concentrated on fat food, although obviously it was a ritual for them as well—a sort of game, from the sounds of it. The origins of such a curious conflict remained completely obscure to Rumford; some things the Ba'arni said seemed to indicate that they may have had a religious ceremony of coming out onto land in great numbers during maximum sunspot activity, and that for many cycles now the Iggglas had been there to transform this ceremony into a bloody battle. Possibly indicating that the Ba'arni were in fact not native to Rannoch, as Rumford has speculated earlier. But he couldn't be sure. No way of knowing, really. Accident, misunderstanding; no doubt they themselves didn't have the faintest anymore.

  In any case ritual war well established, this was clear. And either during or after the battle—sequentiality was difficult to determine, given the lack of tenses in the Iggglas—the two belligerent forces apparently torched, in a kind of sacrifice, the profane land they fought on.

  Hmm. Rumford sat cross-legged on the ground between the two groups, thinking. Rannoch Station had only been there for the past thirty years or so. All that carbon in their dirt, sign of great fires in the past. But mining geologists said no vulca
nism. Tremendous heat, one said. Solar flares? Or weapons. Tremendous heat. Tin would melt. It was possible. And after all, here they were.

  Rumford cleared his throat. Sticky. He hesitated for a bit, and would have hesitated more, but some thirty sets of alien eyes (counting the rabbit-things) stared fixedly at him, and impelled him to action. He tugged his moustache. Sunspots underwater, astrology… really a shame he didn't know more about these creatures. Now where was he? Ah yes— Ba'arni had indicated readiness for conflict. We are ready for conflict. The line between his eyebrows deepened, and finally he shrugged. He clicked the box over to Iggglas and typed away.

  "Ba'arni explain that their priest-caste have performed submarine astrology which contra-indicates ritual war this time. Request war be postponed until next scheduled time twelve squared Rannoch years from now in order to achieve proper equilibrium with the stars."

  The box honked that out in a series of Iggglasian words. All the Iggglas listeners snapped their big gar jaws as they heard it, then leaped in circles thrashing the dust. Several of the rabbit-things disappeared. The chief Igggla hopped toward Rumford and shrieked for a long while.

  On the screen: "War heat slag death fat food exclamation. Delay impossible war as scheduled astrology stupid exclamation."

  Rumford tugged his moustache. Not gone over so well. The three Ba'arni were staring at him curiously, waiting for him to translate what the Iggglas had just so vehemently squawked. The line between his eyebrows deepened even more. Ba'arni had visited him more frequently in last year. Now what had they been trading for?

  He switched the box to Ba'arni, typed: "Iggglas state that they do not want ritual war to take place this time. They note the Ba'arni are suffering famine and therefore population difficulties. Thus ritual dodecimation could lead to extinction of Ba'arni and end of beloved war for Iggglas. They suggest skipping this time and returning to war next twelve squared years."

  A lot of clicks and whistles to convey that. The Ba'arni retreated and conferred among themselves, while the Iggglas squawked derisively at them. Rumford watched anxiously. Ba'arni had been trading rather actively for foodstuffs. Brow needed wiping. He tugged on his moustache. The Ba'arni returned in a new line-up and the one on the left clicked.

  On screen: "Ba'arni completely capable of sustaining their part in (x-click B-flat to C-sharp click sequence; see dictionary). Ba'arni (z-click z-click; see dictionary) insist ritual be carried out as always. Poison birds will die."

  Rumford let out a deep breath, switched the box to dictionary function and inquired about z-click z-click.

  "Z-click z-click: 1. (double n-1 click sequence, B-flat; see dictionary). 2. Magnetic sense located in supra-spinal nerve nodules. 3. Eggs. 4. Large bearings. 5. Sense of place or of location. 6. Money."

  Nothing there seemed completely appropriate, so he tried looking up double n-1 click sequence, B-flat.

  "Double n-1 click sequence, B-flat: 1. (q-click A-flat; see dictionary). 2. Honor. 3. Pride. 4. Shame. 5. Face. 6. Molar teeth."

  Bit of an infinite regress there, could have you jumping around the dictionary forever. Definitely a prankster, whoever had entered this language in the box. But assume the Ba'arni meant some kind of pride, saving face, that kind of thing. Made sense. Every species must have a version of the concept. Fine. Assume clarification on that front. Now, where was he with the Iggglas? Looking fairly ready for an answer, they were. Rumford pursed his lips so hard that his moustache tips almost met under his chin. Astrologer bit not gone over very far. Iggglas pretty aggressive types. He clicked over to Iggglas and typed away.

  "Ba'arni live by submarine astrologer's divine words and intend to decline ritual war. Iggglas insistence will make no difference. Ba'arni have assured this by placement of heat bombs on floor of all seas on Iggglas. Twelve squared heat of weapons used in ritual war. If Iggglas insist on ritual war Ba'arni have no choice but to escalate to total war and annihilate Iggglas seas. Apologies but astrologers insist."

  While the box spoke this message in Iggglas (and how was it doing it without verbs?), Rumford pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped his brow. Uncommonly warm. Hunger made him feel a bit weak. Have to start eating breakfasts.

  The Iggglas began to squawk among themselves very vigorously, and Rumford took a quick glance down at the screen to see if the box was translating their squabble. It was, although apparently it was having problems with the fact that two or three of the Iggglas were always speaking at the same time: "Lying fat food no meteor shower maybe total war then purpose ambiguous no exclamation one miss translator liar idiot meteor shower no explanation maybe box direct Iggglas fat food why not meteor shower maybe," and so on. Rumford tried to direct one eye to the screen and the other to the hopping Iggglas. Looked like the second-largest one might be making the comments about the translator and the box. Yes, even pointing at him as he spat in leader's mouth. Problem.

  The Ba'arni were whistling among themselves, so Rumford quickly typed in another message to the Iggglas:

  "Ba'arni wish to deal with senior Igggla, suggest that perhaps second-biggest Igggla is one qualified to speak for Iggglas in this matter."

  The box squawked this out and Rumford helpfully pointed to the Igggla he had in mind. The chief Iggglas took in the import of the message and shrieked, leaped in the air, jumped at his lieutenant and beat him with a flurry of quick wing blows. Knocked the squealing creature flat and faster than Rumford could see had the lieutenant's skinny vulture-neck between his long toothy jaws. The lieutenant squeaked something dismal and was allowed to live; it crawled to the back of the group of Iggglas. The leader then strode forward and spoke to Rumford and the Ba'arni.

  On the screen: "Astrology stupid war heat fat food death always compact between Iggglas and fat food change never good annihilation of home planet outside compact realm of total war insistence on ritual war heat fat food death."

  Rumford's brow wrinkled as he read this. Getting nowhere with the garheads. After a moment's thought he switched the box to Ba'arni, and typed in, very carefully, the following:

  "Iggglas understand Ba'arni capable of sustaining ritual war and intend no slur on Ba'arni (double n-1 sequence, B-flat)." Possibly it was a mistake to try directly for Ba'arni terms to add power to the message. Box could mess it up entirely, in context of sentence. He typed on: "Iggglas too have sense of honor and save face by suggestion that Ba'arni weakness is only source of problem in ritual war, but Iggglas also have famine trouble, and demand ritual war be postponed twelve squared years to keep both Iggglas and Ba'arni in sufficient numbers to sustain ritual war in perpetuity. Suggest mutual expression of honor (exclamation) by recognition of ritual promise for next time."

  Clicks and whistles, the Ba'arni listening with their big hippo ears tilted down toward the box. Rumford felt the sweat trickling down the inside of his shirt. Extraordinarily hot for Rannoch. The Ba'arni were discussing the matter among themselves, and again Rumford put one eye to the box to see what it could tell him.

  "We must not give (z-click z-click; see dictionary) exclamation. Necessary to (middle C to high C; see dictionary)."

  Surreptitiously he switched over to the dictionary function and looked up middle C to high C.

  "Middle C to high C: 1. Stand still 2. Run. 3. Show interest. 4. Lose. 5. Alternate. 6. Repair. 7. Replace. 8. Subtend. 9. (high C to middle C; see dictionary). 10. Glance through turbid water."

  Useful word. Rumford gave up on it.

  Finally the Ba'ar on the left, the third one to speak from that position, raised its head and spoke. "Ba'arni (z-click z-click; see dictionary) satisfied by expression of (n-1 click sequence, B-flat; see dictionary) by poison birds toward Ba'arni and sacred dodecimation ground, if agreed that ritual war should be resumed in twelve squared years at prescribed time."

  Rumford could not prevent his eyebrows from lifting a bit. One down, apparently. Now where was he with the others? Ah yes. Tricky still, the stubborn buzzards. Entirely possible they might
take up his threat of total war and act on it, which would leave the Ba'arni considerably confused. And Rannoch torched. Hmm. A problem.

  He thought hard and fast. Each side a different understanding of war. Ba'arni thought of it as religious event and perhaps population control, but couldn't sustain it when population already low from famine. Thus agreeable to postponement, if face saved, and quick to arrange talk when Iggglas seen approaching. Fine, clear. And Iggglas? Food source, population control, game, who could tell? Certainly didn't care what Ba'arni astrologers thought of things. Not big on religion, the Iggglas.

  Need to give reasons convincing to receiver of message, not sender. Rumford blinked at this sudden realization. Senders not hearing message, after all—not even sending it in fact. Receiver all that mattered.

  He switched the box to Iggglas. "Ba'arni suffer from famine and fear war would reduce them to extinction, in which case no more ritual wars, no more fat food. Want postponement only." The Iggglas shrieked at this in derision, but the box's screen included among the printed hash the word understanding. Perhaps they now had a reason they could comprehend. Best to press the point. He typed another message to the Iggglas:

  "Dodecimation and fat food rely on population existence, as you say. If there is no population there is no dodecimation or fat food and ritual war is ended forever. Ba'arni therefore insist on postponement of ritual war and if Iggglas attempt to wage it regardless of traditional cooperation of the Ba'arni then Ba'arni have no choice but total war and mass suicide for all parties. Suggest therefore postponement. Astrologer's decision necessary given population of Ba'arni."