“I took it upon myself to disobey the council and my superiors; I resigned my commission and revealed the information as a private citizen, concluding that my own dishonor was far better than the humiliation of my world. I do not regret that decision, even under the present circumstances.” He drew himself up proudly.
“Well-goddamn-said. You done good. Was the conflict resolved?”
“Yes, a treaty was signed, and hostilities ceased—at least on that level. We’ll never like each other, but there is the beginning of a working relationship now.”
“What about your opposite number? The one who leaked the information in the first place?”
The Thunt sat again, palms flat on the table.
“She was executed.”
Bubba shook his head. “Well, that sucks.”
“Yes. It does, indeed, ‘suck,’ assuming that that term has a negative connotation.”
“You betcha.” Bubba sat back and rested his arms against the back of the couch. “All that having been said, and I’m not saying I’m necessarily agreein’ to anything, what do you need?”
“A Champion.”
“Say what?”
“A person of strength, intelligence, and honor to stand for me before the council.”
Bubba scratched his beard. “I ain’t no lawyer, son. Not to mention that I don’t know squat about you or your culture.” He shook his head. “Don’t think I’m going to be your best shot.”
The alien leaned forward intently. “There is no legal maneuvering involved. I stand convicted by my own admission. The Full Council will hear a single appeal for forgiveness based on my acceptance by a Champion.”
Again, Bubba shook his head. “Son, look at me. I’m half your size, twice your age—relatively—and no more or less honorable than any other lump of carbon-based protoplasm. What makes you think I stand any chance of helping you?”
“If strength and size were the only criteria, I would agree with you,” the alien said, “but there are more important considerations. The Nish you met were impressed by your resourcefulness, your ability to solve problems. Very few non-spacefaring races would have been able to grasp the simple feet of the existence of life elsewhere, let alone figure out how to fix unknown technology.”
“Well, hell… Mike here will tell you that there were other names in the hat besides mine.”
“None with your talents, Bubba,” Mike replied quickly. “And few with your intellect.”
“Yeah, well… Be that as it may, son, you’ve still gotta be able to find somebody more honorable than I am. I mean, I’m not exactly crawlin’ in the gutter, but I’m just as selfcentered and ornery as the next guy—probably more so.”
“When Bubba encountered the Nishians,” Mike said to the Thunt, “he was given certain technologies as payment for his help. These included room temperature fusion and mass cancellation. What happened to this knowledge, Bubba?”
“I was able to pass it right on along to somebody better suited to handle it, Mike. You know that.”
“Why?”
Bubba snorted in mild frustration. “Hell, because if I’d kept hold of it, I’d’ve screwed it up, that’s why!”
“So you gave this knowledge away, and turned down any financial claims you might have had on it, correct?”
“Damn right. I didn’t need the grief.”
“You made sure, then, that it would do the most good for the most people, without monetary considerations on your part,” Mike added quietly. “Isn’t that a reasonable example of honorable?”
Bubba stared at him for a few seconds before answering.
“You tricked me with that, Mike.”
“Granted. It is, nevertheless, accurate.”
“And in agreement with what I was told by the two Nishians,” the Thunt added. He caught the human’s gaze with his own. “You’re the only resource I have, Bubba Pritchert. I cannot force you to help me, but without your aid I may never be able to return home—ever.”
Bubba stared at the wall, not speaking for several minutes.
“I’ll have to think on ’er, hoss. This isn’t anything like rebuilding an engine on racing stock; there’s always another race.”
There was a sound from the harness. The Thunt tapped it lightly, then listened closely. His expression, hard enough to read in the loose skin of his face, froze; his posture, at first alert, slowly sagged.
“Mike… ?” Bubba said softly.
“Don’t know the language. It isn’t good news, though.”
When the communicator fell silent, the Thunt closed his eyes. He reached up slowly and removed it, dropping it to the table.
“I… That was a message relayed to me through the Intelligence on my scoutship. The council has made its decision.” The alien’s voice was almost too low to hear, and emotionless. “It would seem that I have greater need of your help than I thought, although I’m afraid there is little you can do.” Opening his eyes, he looked bleakly at the human sitting next to him.
“I am no longer a mid-level attache. I am no longer V’rinn, son of Bish, son of Prath, son of Lan, daughter of Leens, daughter of Stel, son of Rinn.” His voice was level, but lifeless. “I am no longer… a Thunt. The full council has decided; my name has been taken from me, and I have been stripped of my race.”
“Say what?” Bubba said softly.
“I no longer exist. I am a Nameless one. I have been cast out, without family, without identity. I may speak to no one of my race, none of my Progenitors.” He stared at his hands, then dropped them to his knees.
“There are lesser things, too: I may not own property, may not buy from or sell to any other Thunt. I am not allowed to breed, and my name may not be spoken.” He looked back at the human with hopelessness. “I may work in the mines, but that’s all. There is nothing else to be done.”
“The hell you say!” Bubba was a little surprised at the vehemence of his reply. “Those ornery sons of bitches! I can’t believe they did this!”
“Bubba, I don’t think you understand. By the laws of Thuntun, I am guilty of my crime. The punishment is harsh… more harsh than you can know. But it is, by our lights, just.”
“Well, hoss, I can tell you right now that it ain’t ‘just’ in King William County, and if they think we re gonna let this slide, they’re missin’ a rope off their porch swing.” He stood and began to pace.
“You ain’t a Thunt and you ain’t your mother’s son, you ain’t a hero and you ain’t even the jam b’tween their toes, huh? Well, I’m here to tell you what you are, old son,” he said loudly, drawing himself up to his full height, eyes flashing at the big alien. “You’re a guest in my goddamn house, is what you are, and nobody on this planet or any other insults a guest under my roof.” Grabbing dishes and utensils, he stomped back into the kitchen.
“C’mon, boy, get your shit together. We got ass to kick and names to take.” Dumping the dirty dishes into the sink, he began washing them savagely.
The alien picked Mike up and followed, standing off to one side and looking uncomfortable in the face of the human’s obvious anger.
“Bubba,” Mike said, “it’s late. Both you and… both of you need rest, and there’s planning to be done. I suggest that you find somewhere for our friend to sleep, and try and find a fresh perspective in the morning.”