“ In Ragi .” For a human, speaking Mosphei’ or its like, Ragi was a vast linguistic jump.
“His native language may find that a simpler transition than that to Mosphei’, at least as regards the children’s language.” Without the numeric demands Ragi placed on adults. “He wishes to contact his ship. We consider this a very good idea at this point, nadi-ji.” We , not one . It was the utmost stress, his reputation, his urging. And Jase knew the nuances. “We have cooperation and wish to keep the momentum in developing relations.”
It couldn’t be an easy decision. It wasn’t, for him; and one could only imagine what Sabin would say if Sabin were back on board.
But Sabin wasn’t. “ Voice contact ,” Jase said. “ We’ll do our best to get you through .”
“Thank you.” He meant that. And he wasn’t going to explain the rest of it, not until he saw encouraging results. He reached across and turned on Prakuyo’s mike. “Prakuyo. Talk. We record—” He made writing motions. “We talk Prakuyo’s ship.”
Prakuyo leaned forward and did speak, rapidly, a speech laced with gutturals some of which were down at the lower end of human hearing and maybe a few too low to make out. And he paused, waiting, waiting, eyes fixed on the console.
“ We’re trying ,” C1 said. “ We have a three-minute window .”
Bren set a timer on the number one clock and called Prakuyo’s attention to the ebb of sections. He held up three fingers, and pointed to the minute digit, folded one down.
A person familiar with countdowns, if not their numerical notation, might know what he meant, and get the rhythm of it. Prakuyo watched, and watched the countdown; and as it went negative, seemed to figure that, too.
Then… then… a static-ridden reply that taxed the speakers, and Prakuyo’s whole face reacted in what was surely the profoundest relief. He replied, rapidly, energetically, and the equipment might or might not handle all those booms and thumps from Prakuyo’s throat.
Bren reset the reply clock.
“Prakuyo ship,” Prakuyo said, and simultaneous with voice, the oddest trait, came a deep rumbling from somewhere in Prakuyo’s throat. “Prakuyo ship come Bren ship.”
“Yes,” Bren said, there not being damn-all else to say, given the dowager’s arrangements. “Associate.”
That word… Prakuyo found troublesomely worrisome. He glanced at Bren, sucked at his lips as if he was restraining some word or just trying to think of one.
And that, in its way, was a comfortingly straightforward honesty… indicative, perhaps, that there were thorny problems, and that Prakuyo wasn’t in a position to make guarantees for his own side.
“Associate?” Bren asked, and Prakuyo’s frown deepened, and that dammed-up thought just couldn’t find a way out.
So if things went badly—on the surface—he could just keep saying, “associate” and expect Prakuyo to know what the sticking-point of negotiations had become. If that word had come across with something like its original meaning in the first place.
These were the truly lovely moments in making a linguistic bridge in negotiations, and never so much was at stake, not even in the first days between atevi and humans, who had at least had experience of each other and settled a little common vocabulary before they managed to get completely at loggerheads on the real meanings.
Here was where ship and station, who had no experience of any outsiders but each other, had no useful referent that wasn’t buried deep in the Archive, unlearned and unstudied in centuries… except for Jase’s knowledge.
And this was where the paidhi-aiji earned his keep.
The answer came back. Prakuyo listened to all of it, then answered, ticking off points to himself on his fingers, and with a great deal of attendant booming and rumbling, before he reached over and thumped Bren on the back. Hard. Bren caught himself against the counter-edge, tears in his eyes, and hoped the shoulderblade wasn’t cracked.
Prakuyo, however, was happy.
“Go Prakuyo ship,” Prakuyo said, “go Prakuyo ship.”
“Ship come?”
“Come?” Prakuyo said happily, and Bren warily turned toward him, to make another back-slap inconvenient.
“Good,” Bren said, feeling less than confident. And saying to himself that if he was going to be going anywhere, he wanted a few words of the language under his belt.
And, God, if Sabin got aboard before Prakuyo’s ship got here—as that sight of an incoming alien craft was almost guaranteed to prompt her to do—he was going to have to explain the dowager’s decision, and his, and somehow keep bargains they hadn’t Sabin’s—or Jase’s—clearance to make.
He needed words. He needed some picture of what he was working with, or going into.
“Asicho. Get me C1.”
“Yes,” she said, and punched buttons. “C1, nandi.”
“Captain Graham,” he said, sure of his contact.
“ I’m on ,” Jase said, not in Ragi. “ How did that go” ?
“Very well.” In Ragi. “The ship will continue to move in, but shooting is less likely.”
“ It expects him to transfer to it, will it? The stationers are very nervous. One is by no means sure we have removed all resistance, besides it will terrify the passengers. One is not complaining, understand… but can one possibly hold that off? ”
“We are not yet fluent enough to undertake that topic,” Bren said. “One regrets, nadi-ji. He wishes me and the dowager and the heir to visit the ship, perhaps to demonstrate us to his fellows; and the dowager has agreed.”
“ God, Bren .” That last was not in Ragi.
“We do intend to return, and consider it no worse risk than parachuting onto a planet.” That for Jase, who had done precisely that, so Jase could hardly complain of wild risks. “Our guest seems very reasonable and well-disposed, all considered. Understand, these matters were cordially agreed while I was absent, and our guest’s good will and confidence may reasonably be dependent on these representations. It might be a grave mistake to backtrack.”
“ Is our guest promising to let us out of here ?”
“Not entirely clear. Either we have some difficulty communicating that point, or Prakuyo lacks authority or disposition to promise it. I do certainly intend to make that issue a primary point aboard his ship.”
“ Bren .” Jase seemed at a loss.
“Prevent the aiji-senior from forbidding this move. That would be a very great help.”
“ Got that straight ,” Jase said. And in Ragi: “ One understands, and one most fervently wishes you success, nandi-ji .”