"And when they go back to being male?"
"They return to the village."
Saiko stroked his lip thoughtfully. "Interesting. It makes sense to protect those who are breeding, both female and male, as much as possible. A most unusual expression of oneness, with this periodic changing of roles."
"You mean the way the females dominate the males but not the neuters? I suppose that does make for a certain symmetry."
He fixed me suddenly with a curious gaze. "Why do you insist on seeing it in terms of domination and submission? Couldn't it simply be that the Falkren recognize their interdependence and take the roles which allow their survival and growth?"
I floundered for a good five seconds on that one. "I suppose I'm anthropomorphizing," I said at last.
"Most human societies run along power/authority lines. So I guess we have an automatic tendency to assume aliens behave that way, too."
"I see." There was an odd note of disappointment in Saiko's tone.
"You disagree?" I probed.
He hesitated, unblinking eyes gauging my reaction. I knew that look and the thoughts behind it; my own rather nonmilitary personality had made me an oddball of sorts even among other Starguard scientists.
The search for a kindred spirit could be a long and painful one. "Go ahead," I encouraged him.
"If I think in terms of dominance and submission, then I must consider myself as separate from the rest of the universe," Saiko said. "In other words, if I consider you to be outside of me, then I can try to dominate you. This sets up conflict between us.
"If instead I consider you to be actually another part of me, then I won't fight you, because we don't fight ourselves. I'll try to help you, try to let you have your way as much as possible. You see? The conflict is now gone."
"Yes," I said carefully. I'd heard of that philosophy before. Oriental in origin, it was largely in the clutches of various mystical cults these days, at least out in the Colonies. "It's an interesting concept, but I think it's a bit risky. Humanity has certainly had more wars than we've needed, but it may be better sometimes to err on that side than to be too pacifist and get trampled. You see, with your philosophy there's very little you can do in the way of self-defense."
Saiko shrugged. "I could point out that an overly aggressive policy also has its dangers. What if you run into a powerful force which you provoke to an unnecessary conflict, for example?"
"True," I admitted. "But at least you're ready for the war when it comes. If you're unable or unwilling to hit back, you won't survive." I could hardly believe I had wound up on this side of the argument. Saiko must be even less a swashbuckler than I was, I decided.
"There are ways to defend yourself without injuring your opponent," Saiko said, smiling faintly.
"Sure-force fields. If you ever invent one let me know. Incidentally, if you don't approve of combat, what are you doing in an Enforcer Brigade?"
"The Eighteenth needed another ordnance tech and I was available. On the other hand, where better to speak against conflict than where the conflict already exists?" His smile vanished and he grew serious.
"Tell me, sir, have negotiations been tried with the Falkren?"
I waved at my computer terminal and the pile of hard-copy records beside it. "All the information I've got says we've tried talking with all three sexes. The males don't seem to count at all. The females are willing for the mineral exploration teams to poke around in exchange for the gifts we give them, but they have no authority outside the villages. The neuters have flatly refused to let us on their turf, and when armed teams go out anyway, they shoot crossbow bolts at them. Even using their best ambush and guerilla tactics, the casualties are running about twenty to one against them, but they still refuse to even discuss the issue.
Although with the Falki social system as genetically based as it is, I'm not sure talk would help anyway."
"Perhaps it's a point of honor," Saiko murmured.
"Perhaps." Honor, I'd heard, was supposed to be important to the Oriental mind. I wondered if Saiko realized how dishonorable it looked to the other Enforcers for him to meekly accept the nickname they'd pinned on him.
realized how dishonorable it looked to the other Enforcers for him to meekly accept the nickname they'd pinned on him.
"I'm glad you stopped by, Saiko. Feel free to drop back any time."
"Yes, sir." Moving with quiet grace, he left the room.
Down deep, I sensed I'd just flunked a test-but, then again, he wasn't the kindred spirit I was seeking, either. Sighing, I got back to my work.
The incident in the Enforcers' mess happened two days later, and it was simple luck that put me there at the right time. I was looking for one of the noncoms and had dropped in on the chance he was having lunch. He wasn't there, but as I turned to leave a bellow from across the room made me spin around.
"Hey, Love-and-kisses!" a gravelly voice shouted. "You, Saiko! Get back here!"
Saiko, who had been carrying his tray toward an empty table, turned as a behemoth of a man rose a few paces behind him. I recognized the man instantly: Sergeant Cabral, universally known as Moose. And for good reason. "Yes?" Saiko said.
"You made me spill my drink on my tray," Moose accused.
Saiko shook his head. "I didn't touch you when I passed. It might have been someone else."
"Never mind the excuses. Get over here and clean it up. And then go get me another drink."
Saiko shook his head. "It was not my fault," he said, and turned to go.
Moose was reputed to have a short fuse even at the best of times-and this wasn't one of them. Saiko's blunt refusal was barely out of his mouth when Moose leaped across the intervening distance and caught Saiko's upper arm in a painful-looking grip. "Damn it, I said clean it up!" He yanked, pulling Saiko toward him- And with a stupendous crash, Moose hit the floor two meters away.
The snickering which had started at Saiko's expense vanished like beer at a picnic, leaving the whole room in stunned silence. Moose rolled to his feet and turned back to face Saiko, his face a dangerous shade of red. "Damn you," he said softly. "You're gonna regret that." And then he charged.
Saiko set down his tray, which had by some miracle survived the first clash, and waited. Moose launched a punch that should have sent Saiko across the room; instead, the smaller man leaned aside, caught the arm and spun around... and, somehow, Moose was again on the floor.
Saiko stood aside and waited... and Moose proceeded to prove his nickname didn't just refer to his size.
He got up and tried again, this time throwing two fast savage kicks and a punch in rapid succession.
Saiko evaded both kicks and again caught the punching fist. With a brief intertwining of arms, Moose again hit the deck. This time Saiko went down into a crouch next to him; and, though the tables blocked my view, I could hear Moose swearing and struggling to get up.
Just about then I suddenly broke out of my fascinated paralysis. "Ten-HUT!" I shouted.
There was a loud scramble of chairs as all the Enforcers shot to their feet. The two combatants were a second behind the others and I beckoned them forward. Moose, I noted, was panting somewhat and massaging his right wrist, but was otherwise unmarked. Saiko wasn't even breathing hard.
Technically, I wasn't in the brigade's chain of command. So, short of squealing on them to Major Eldjarn, there was little I could do in way of punishment. So I gave them both a stern warning about saving their strength for the Falkren, told Saiko to report to my quarters later, and let everyone go back to lunch.