Dear God, don’t let me screw up and start that up again, Kris thought, wondering if she was finally learning to pray like Tommy had said she should.
Finally, four more Iteeche came through the hatch, watching their steps with care and making good use of the netting. They took station in line just inside the first two; their uniforms were crimson red. Their only decorations were black starbursts as collar tabs. They held long objects that Kris immediately recognized as their equivalent of rifles.
Kris thought, Marines, before Nelly confirmed it.
Two more in gray-and-gold uniforms crossed the hatch to join the line forming across from Kris. The color alone had Kris thinking, Army, before Nelly told her, NAVY officers.
Good lesson in not jumping to conclusions.
The space directly across from Kris was getting narrow; the big kahuna had to be along soon. The bosun raised pipe to lips and whistled the ancient notes.
Two Iteeche led a final Iteeche aboard. The lead two wore dark green and white. The last looked like a circus horse draped in every color available and then some. Sections of his dress seemed to change color as light struck him. At his neck was a collar that exploded like a starburst. Kris had seen some spectacular shows in her life; this man set a new standard.
Suddenly, her dress whites didn’t seem all that fancy. She’d just have to impress this Ron fellow with her good looks and sharp intellect. Well, not-too-dumb intellect.
Kris tried to see herself the way this Iteeche did. Directly between them were Abby and Cara in their light green ball gowns. Flanking Kris was her military team, Penny, Jack, and Cortez in blues, reds, and black. Drago was in the fanciest uniform ever dreamed up by an opera costumer. Behind Kris, in a half circle, were the surviving boffins in their colorful finery.
For a full minute . . . Kris had Nelly time it . . . both sides just stared at each other. It went well past awkward, but Kris held her silent ground. He asked for a meeting. He could damn well start the talking.
Finally, Ron-whatever-he-called-himself cleared his throat and exchanged the quickest of glances with one of the somber green-and-white fellows. Kris would bet money that someone had just lost a bet.
He raised his two inner hands, palms out, and began to speak. “I come in peace to all mankind,” was halting, and it rasped a bit hard from his beaked mouth, but he said it in English.
“It would be easier to buy if they hadn’t shot our pod,” the colonel whispered.
“We’ll cover that later,” Kris whispered. Nelly, how Do I say “I GREET you in peace” in ETEECHE,
No way, Kris, EVEN if you PRACTICED A MONTH. JUST say The ENGLISH. MAYBE he’ll UNDNRSTAND you.
Kris said it. Nothing happened. The silence started to grow. Just before it became eligible to vote, the Iteeche tapped a machine at his chest.
It started saying things. In Iteeche.
Nelly?
I AM WORKING on IT, Nelly snapped. They Don’T follow our STRUCTURE SOME IMPORTANT WORDS are AT The END of The SENTENCE. ASSUMING They use SENTENCES
LET Me know when you can, Kris said, not at all happy to have her somewhat flaky computer calling the shots . . . again.
The Iteeche fell silent.
Nelly started speaking a second later. “He says, ‘I, Ron’sum’Pin’sum’We, etc., etc., chosen of the’—I think that means Imperial choosers—‘spawn of somebody equally important for a couple of generations, accept the presence of Princess Kristine Longknife, chosen and all that, spawn many times removed of Raymond of the Long-Reaching Knife, to share water, slaughter many little fish.’ That is what he said. It could mean something else. Then he goes on, ‘I am here to share words. If you do not strongly object’—and that literally means draw swords—‘I shall disturb your water with my words.’ ”
“Are you sure that’s what he said, Nelly?” Kris said.
“You’re welcome to try your hand at translating, honey,” Nelly said in full huff.
“Nelly is a woman’s name,” came in a machine voice from the chest of the multicolor Iteeche, Ron.
“Yes,” Kris said keeping it simple.
The Iteeche whispered something. “You name a machine?” his machine said.
One of the fellows in green and white turned back to the rainbow one and whispered something hurriedly. The other fellow lifted a finger off the machine and said something back just as fast.
Nelly, IT WOULD Be nice To know WHAT’S GOING on here.
The GREEN-AND-WHITE fellow SAID SOMETHING like “Keep To The SCRIPT.” Ah, “Say The WORDS we PUT in your MOUTH.” Ron SAID, “BUT They can’T UNDERSTAND THEM.” Hey, he SAID “They,” an INFORMAL use as AMONG equals, NOT To SCUM-EATING Monkeys. COULD Be IMPORTANT. Also, Kris, Ron is a whole LOT YOUNGER Than The Guys in Green AND WHITE. I Think he’s YOUNGER Than all of THEM.
AND The EMPIRE was always so AGE-BOUND, Kris remembered from somewhere.
I Don’T Think This EMBASSY FITS THAT.
“Yes, I name my machine, or computer,” Kris said, choosing to answer what had been said to her and ignore all the internal debate . . . from both sides. “It works better for me when I do.”
THAT AND DRAFTING Me.
Don’T JUGGLE My ELBOW, Nelly. If you Make Me LAUGH OUT of place, or EVEN SMILE, GOD only knows WHAT will happen.
Nelly translated for a moment. The green-and-white guy said nothing, but his former gills took on a pink tinge.
I Think pink Means EMBARRASSED, Nelly put in.
Yes, now I REMEMBER. Kris had forgotten that the old gill slits of the Iteeche sometimes took on meaningful colors. Red almost always meant blood was about to be spilled. Black was deadly intent. White was just flat dead.
Oops, My UNIFORM May Be SENDING The MESSAGE THAT I’M WHITE, Belly-up DEAD on The Top of The POND, COME BITE Me, Kris remembered.
You DIDN’T ask Me, Nelly pointed out.
But Ron was whispering to his machine again. It said, in a soft, machine voice, “It did not do good translating my words to your words even with a name.”
Kris jumped in before Nelly could, choosing her words for precise meanings. “Your words were very difficult for us to translate. ‘Eat many small fish’? ‘Share water.’ These words say something to you. Even though we hear the words, we do not understand what the meanings are behind them for you.”
Now it was Ron’s turn to glare at both his green and whites.
Kris decided to take the bull by the horns. “I welcome you to my ship,” she said with a sweep of her arm to cover their surroundings. “Let us speak words of peace and harmony to each other.”
How Do I TRANSLATE THAT? Nelly asked.
WHAT KIND of SYNTAX DID he use?
NOT Much of any, BUT IT was equal To equal.
Then Keep The SYNTAX SIMPLE AND equal.
Nelly spoke softly in Iteeche, mimicking Kris’s voice.
The two green and whites’ necks turned a brighter pink, almost red. Ron’s took on a soft greenish tinge.
I Don’T Think My TRANSLATION was BAD ENOUGH To Make HIMThrow up. Nelly pouted.
He’s NOT sick. Green is a happy color. You know THAT.
Yeah, BUT I THOUGHT you MIGHT like The Joke.
I DIDN‘T, Nelly.
The rainbow man rested both of his right hands on his chest and muttered something to his machine. It muttered back to him. They exchanged words in rapid fire for a few moments.
WHAT are They TRYNG To say, Nelly?
He’s GLAD you WANT To FIND peace AND HARMONY BeTween The Two of you, BUT CONFUSED ABOUTThe lanGUAGE Does THAT INCLUDE all PRESENT or The HUMANS AND The EMPIRE? I Think The Two fellows in Green AND WHITE HAVE PROGRAMMED The Machine To only Think in ITEECHE. NOTICE how Ron keeps LOOKING AT The Two Green AND WHITES AND is GETTING More AND More RED. I Think The Green AND WHITES HAVE his Machine ARGUING WITH HIM More Than I’D EVEN Think of ARGUING WITH you EVEN THOUGH I AM so DRAFTED.