Afsan grunted and began to climb. He had trouble with the first couple of rungs, but soon got the hang of it, and before long was up on the Other ship. Toroca tied his little sailing boat to the rope ladder in hopes that it wouldn’t bash against the big boat too much; the Other vessel could doubtless take the impacts, but the Stardeter had a fragile hull. He then made his own way up the ladder, banging his knuckles as it swung back against the ship when a big wave came by. Finally, he was on the deck, too. Toroca bowed deeply in Quintaglio greeting, then spoke the standard salutation used by the Others: "It is my good fortune to see you." One of the Others made a derisive sound, but Toroca thought he was more likely mocking his halting command of their language than the actual sentiment.
Jawn repeated the greeting, then asked in his own language, "Who is this?"
"My … father," said Toroca. "Afsan."
Jawn bowed at Afsan, and, in heavily accented Quintaglio, said, "I cast a shadow in your presence."
Afsan tilted his muzzle toward Jawn, impressed.
"Enough of this," said the same one who had snorted earlier, speaking the Other tongue. "Ask him why they attacked us, Jawn."
Toroca faced the fellow directly, and spoke in the same language. "That is what I have come to … to…"
"Gan-noth," said Jawn. Explain.
"That is what I have come to explain," said Toroca. "My people want no fight. We not good feel about what happened."
The belligerent fellow let loose a vocal barrage containing many words that Toroca didn’t know, but he realized part of it was a body count of how many had been killed by the Quintaglios aboard the Dasheter.
"We are sorry for that," said Toroca. "It is moving by the hand of God," he said, an Other idiom meaning, we couldn’t help ourselves. "Your appearance causes a … a violent reaction within most of us."
"Appearance," said Jawn. "Then your father … he can be here because he is lees-tash, yes?"
"Yes."
Jawn faced Afsan, and spoke in halting Quintaglio. "Toroca says he does not want to fight. Do you?"
"No," said Afsan. And then repeating himself in the Other style of amplification, which Toroca had taught him during the voyage out: "No, no."
"How," said the belligerent one, who Toroca had come to suspect must be the captain, "is not fighting possible between our peoples?"
"We can have no direct contact," said Toroca. "But my people are good at interacting without contact. We could trade, exchange documents, learn more about each other…"
"Enough!" The captain spit a string of words at Jawn so rapidly that Toroca could only pick out a few terms. Jawn looked upset.
"What did he say?" asked Toroca.
"He said you are — not the absence of good, but the opposite of it. You live out of the sight of God. We cannot trust you, he says."
"Ah, but you can trust us, Jawn. You saw it yourself back in your city. I cannot lie without my muzzle turning blue; none of my people can. You know that."
"Joth-shal," said the captain.
"What?"
"A trick," said Jawn. "He thinks you’ve tricked us into thinking that about yourselves."
"Do you think it is a trick?" said Toroca.
Jawn looked thoughtful, then said slowly, "Among those who died trying to visit your ship was my sister."
"We told you to stay away."
"Yes, you did. You…"
"How?" snapped the captain, his face suddenly suspicious. "How…" and then a string of words Toroca couldn’t follow.
Jawn looked at Toroca. "My friend asks a good question," he said. "How did you know what effect our appearance would have on you? How did you know enough to warn us not to visit your ship?"
Toroca’s heart sank. Not knowing what to do, he turned to Afsan and quickly filled him in. Afsan shrugged.
"Because," said Toroca slowly, "that day I arrived in your city was not the first time Quintaglios had seen your peoples. We had landed on another one of your islands a few days before…"
The captain spoke again and Toroca recognized the name of one of the islands.
"Oh, God," said Jawn. "You killed two people there, didn’t you? There was a massive search; one body was found, and another was never recovered."
"Now the test!" said the captain. "If you killed them, you must die for it. Prove you cannot lie, thash-rath. Tell us you killed them."
Toroca briefly explained to Afsan what was going on.
"Not a great experiment," observed Afsan. "You die either way."
"I did not kill them," said Toroca in the Other language, "but, yes, ones of my kind did. We feel not good about it." Toroca held up a hand, and was relieved to see his claws were still sheathed. "If you believe that we did kill them, you must also believe we are sorry. Sorry, sorry."
"If you knew the effect of our appearance, then why did you come back to our islands?" said Jawn. "Why did you risk killing more of us?"
"That is why Afsan is here," Toroca said. "He is one of our greatest thinkers, and is influential with our Emperor. He has something to" — he tried to recall the word he’d just learned — "explain to you about what will come for our world. Let him show you; I will translate what he says."
The captain’s tail swished. "You are dangerous. Your kind must be eliminated if my kind is to be safe." He moved in closer. He was no bigger than Toroca; the young geologist could surely take him in single combat. But other sailors had weapon tubes trained on him. "We attack you tomorrow, thash-rath. Tell me where your weakest point is."
Toroca crossed his arms over his chest. "I do not wish for this conflict to go on," he said, "but I will not…" His noble speech faltered as he realized he didn’t know the Other word for betray. "I will not not help my people."
The captain held out his right hand, motioning to one of the armed sailors to give him his tube. "Tell me, or I’ll shoot you," he said.
"No!" said Jawn. "Do not!"
"I would rather die than not not help my people," said Toroca.
The captain grunted, a sound of grudging respect. "Finally a quality to admire in your kind," he said. "No matter. Tell me where your people’s weakest point is, or I shall kill the large one." He swung the mouth of his tube toward Afsan.
"No!" said Toroca, first in Quintaglio, then in the Other tongue. "He is blind."
"So you say," said the captain. "He is also much bigger than any of us, and that makes him dangerous. Now, tell me, where exactly should we attack? Where are you least fortified?"
"I cannot reveal that," said Toroca.
The captain did something to the tube. It made a loud click.
"Tell me, or I will kas-tak." A word that presumably referred to operating the weapon.
"Do not," said Jawn again. "They came here in peace."
"There will be peace," said the captain. "When they are all dead, and the jar-dik to our people is over, there will be peace." He looked at Toroca again, his yellow eyes thin slits against his yellow face. ’Tell me!"
Toroca closed his eyes. "The docks." The Quintaglio word exploded from him.
The captain looked at Jawn, who provided the equivalent Other term.
"The docks," Toroca said again. "The harbor."
"Where?" snapped the captain. "Exactly where?"
"Dead ahead, at the easternmost tip of our land," said Toroca. "You cannot miss it. Our Capital City is built on cliffs overlooking those docks. They are unfortified and unguarded."