Gatabor stood by the hole, hands on hips, shaking his head.
Novato walked to the other side of the hole, facing him, and, incidentally, facing the expanse behind him leading to the edge of the cliff. And so, she saw it happen…
Saw the blue mass poke out of the ground thirty paces closer to the cliff’s edge, grass and dirt erupting out of its way as if pushed aside by a shovelmouth’s prow.
Novato’s jaw dropped, and Gatabor’s claws slid out in response to the breach of protocol. But then she pointed and Gatabor swung around and he, too, saw it, whatever it was, rising out of the ground.
Jawn deposited a handful of copper disks on the table. Some of them had an engraving of an Other in profile; others had an engraved crest. He moved one of the disks to the center of the table. Pointing to it with palm closed, he said, “Bal.” He then raised his hand with one finger extended. “Bal.” Toroca repeated the word.
Next, Jawn picked up a second disk and placed it beside the first. Originally, the disk had been showing a crest; now, flipped over, it showed a profile. Toroca realized that all the disks were identical. “Lod,” said Jawn, indicating both of the disks. He held up two fingers. “Lod.”
Toroca found this easy, and soon Jawn had taught him the names of the numerals from one to ten. It was time for the next step. “Bal eb bal tar lod,” said Jawn. One and one is two. Jawn demonstrated this by moving disks around.
Toroca nodded and repeated the sentence: “Bal eb bal tar lod.”
Jawn then demonstrated two more constructions. “Bal eb bal eb bal tar ker.” One and one and one is three. “Bal eb lod tar ker.” One and two is three.
There was a little more practice with basic math, but then it seemed they were back at square one. “Bal eb bal tar lod,” said Jawn: one and one is two. But then he added a new word: “Sek-tab.”
Jawn next said two and two equals four, and again appended “Sek-tab.” Toroca dutifully repeated each phrase.
Then Jawn said, “Bal eb bal tar ker.” Toroca looked up. Had he misunderstood everything so far? “Bal eb bal tar ker,” said Jawn again. One and one is three? Then, stressing the word, Jawn added, “Sek-na-tab.” He then made the hand motion that meant he wanted Toroca to repeat what he’d said.
Toroca shook his head, trying to convey that something was wrong here. “Bal eb bal tar lod,” he said. And then he repeated the answer: “Lod.”
Jawn opened his mouth, exposing teeth. Toroca had come to understand that this was the Others’ way of showing amusement. Jawn’s expression indicated he wanted Toroca to bear with him. He said again, “Bal eb bal tar lod, sek-tab.” Toroca repeated that. Then Jawn said, “Bal eb bal tar ker, sek-na-tab.”
Toroca slowly repeated the phrase: “Bal eb bal tar… ker.” Jawn’s eyelids blinked, an expression of astonishment shared by both Others and Quintaglios. “Sas lesh,” he said, using words Toroca had learned in an earlier lesson. Your face.
Toroca was frustrated. “Well, of course my face is turning blue,” he blurted in the Quintaglio language. “You’re making me say something that’s not true.”
In that instant, Toroca realized what was going on. Sek-tab meant ‘correct’ or ‘true’ and sek-na-tab meant ‘incorrect’ or ‘false’; the addition of the syllable ‘na’ to the middle of the word implied negation, the first Other grammatical rule Toroca had been able to divine.
But in the same instant, Jawn clearly realized something, as well. He pointed at his own chest and said, “Jawn.” Then he pointed at himself a second time and said, “Toroca.”
It was Toroca’s turn to be astonished, his own eyelids beating up and down. Jawn’s face had remained its usual yellow. He indicated for Toroca to repeat the same thing. Toroca pointed at his own chest and said, “Toroca,” then pointed at his chest again and said, “Jawn.” When he uttered the second name, he felt tingling as his muzzle blushed blue.
And so, Toroca realized, a significant fact had been communicated by this simple math lesson. The Others now knew that Quintaglios could not lie without their faces betraying them. And Toroca now knew that the Others could lie.
Jawn and Toroca stared at each other, both of them clearly astonished.
Garios and Novato were sharing a meal of water turtle; the beast had been killed when it had waddled up onto the beach. Casually holding the flipper he was gnawing on, Garios said, “I see you’ve dispatched a letter to Afsan.”
Novato spit aside a hunk of bone, then: “Along with the usual missives to the Emperor, yes. It went out with a rider last night.”
Garios seemed engrossed in the anatomy of the flipper. His tone was offhanded. “May I inquire about the letter’s contents?”
“Oh, just bringing him up-to-date on what’s been happening. You know: the cliff turning blue, and the blue pyramid erupting out of the ground.”
“Did you, ah, perhaps ask him to come here?”
“Here to Fra’toolar? Goodness, no. That’s a long trip, and he’s got plenty of other things to do.”
“Of course,” said Garios, tearing some more flesh from the flipper. After a moment, he added, “Will you be going to the Capital soon?”
“I don’t know. I should report in person to Dybo at some point. We’ll need new equipment to investigate this pyramid. Of course, Delplas could go back to take care of that; she’s got a fine head for details. So, no, I have no immediate plans to return to the Capital. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious,” said Garios, again examining the flipper as if he somehow expected there to be some meat on it that had evaded his earlier investigations. “Just curious.”
“I call this the listing game,” said Mokleb. “It works like this: I suggest a category of thing, and you list all the items that fit into that category.”
“A memory test?” said Afsan. “There’s nothing wrong with my memory.”
“No, I suspect there isn’t. But please indulge me. Could you, for instance, give the names of the original five hunters?”
“Sure. Lubal, Belbar, Katoon, Hoog, and, ah, Mekt.”
“You hesitated before Mekt. Why?”
“I couldn’t remember if I’d said her yet.”
“Of course. Of course. And can you name the five original mates?”
“Dargo, Varkev, Jostark, Takood, Detoon.”
“There, you had no trouble with that list. What about the names of the seven principal branches of government?”
“Oh, easy. The judiciary. The church. Civil works. The exodus. Interprovincial trade. Portents and omens. Tithing.”
“Very good. And the names of the eight provinces?”
“Not only will I give you the names, Mokleb, but I’ll give them to you in order from west to east: Jam’toolar, Fra’toolar, Arj’toolar, Chu’toolar, Mar’toolar, Edz’toolar, and Capital.”
“You missed one,” said Mokleb.
“Did I? Which one?”
“You tell me.”
“Let’s see: Jam’toolar and Fra’toolar on the west coast. Then Arj’toolar. Chu’toolar to the north, with little Mar’toolar beneath it. Edz’toolar. And Capital.”
“You missed it again.”
Afsan sounded irritated. He held up his fingers as he named them off. “One: Jam’toolar. Two: Fra’toolar. Three: Capital. Four: Chu’toolar. Five: Mar’toolar. Six—did I say Arj’toolar yet? Arj’toolar. Seven: Edz’toolar. And eight, ah—number eight is—”