"I thought you were a practical race," said Darran.
"Not entirely. The Klau are completely practical. Everything is planned for exact use, whether it makes people happy or not. There is no gaiety on the Klau worlds."
"So? Who are the Klau?"
"Enemies. Terrible men, with eyes like red stars." But Sia Spedz was more interested in showing off her skill with the sandals. "Watch." She climbed into the air as if she were mounting stairs, ran gaily back and forth over Darran's head. "Now I'm going higher."
"Be careful!" Darran walked back and forth below her with arms outstretched.
"This is as high as I like to go," said Sia Spedz. "Up here it's very shaky."
"You'd better come down. You make me nervous."
She rejoined him. "Why don't you ask Markel to give you a pair of sandals?"
Darran shrugged. "It's not polite to ask for gifts."
"If you don't make your wants known, they go unrecognized."
Darran laughed. "I thought you weren't a practical race."
"Perhaps we are after all. In any event I'll give you a pair of sandals myself."
"You'll get spanked for giving away your father's best shoes."
Sia Spedz giggled. "That's a funny thing to say."
Barch had been leaning on the balustrade. "I think he's funny too. He knows all kinds of games. Get him to teach you hopscotch."
"Hopscotch?" Sia Spedz looked at Darran. "What's that?"
"It's a game little Earth girls play."
"Do you know how to play?"
Darran scratched his cheek. " Roy plays a lot better than I do."
"No," said Barch," you won yesterday."
"You show me, Claude."
Barch sat down on a bench. "I'll see that there's no cheating." He reached under him, pulled out Darran's Lekthwan Primer. He flipped it open, and glanced at the introduction.
The Lekthwan language, he read, sounds harsh and consonantal to Earth ears-a matter which deserves explanation. To begin with, the Lekthwan language embraces a tremendous vocabulary, with sometimes a hundred synonyms for one basic idea. In consequence there is no need for circumlocution, and Lekthwan speech is notable for the logical simplicity of its declarative forms.
A further peculiarity of the Lekthwan language is the fact that each word may have a number of different shadings, depending upon the "characterization" assumed by the person speaking, or even the person spoken to. There are almost a hundred of these characterizations, of which sixty-two are term "basic." Every mature person is familiar with the basic characterizations, and with most of the remaining optionals. The Lekthwan indicates the characterization in which he speaks by play of eyes, eyebrows and eyelashes. In crude analogy, the characterizations might be likened to the emotion-masks of the ancient Greek dramatists.
Barch tossed the book back to the bench, mentally labeling the Lekthwan language a life-time job in itself. The Lekthwan children seemed to absorb it easily enough. He watched Sia Spedz, engrossed in Darran's explanation. How many of these characterizations was she able to use? A bright-looking kid. Thousands of years of natural-and possibly eugenic-selection had no doubt increased the intelligence of the race. Intelligence and-as if to offer an illustration, Komeitk Lelianr stepped out on the terrace-intelligence and beauty.
Covertly he watched her as she leaned upon the balustrade. The Lekthwans, he knew, felt no self-consciousness in connection with nudity. Komeitk Lelianr now wore only a short skirt and air-sandals. Barch felt the warmth rising in his body. A stranger, a creature of a far world… and yet how wonderful, how alive, how graceful, how clean…
She turned quickly, as if she had felt his eyes. Barch looked away guiltily, then after a moment glanced back, to where she now stood with her back to the balustrade. She was appraising him. Barch thought bitterly, I'm the first Earther savage she's had a close look at.
She said politely, "I see that you study our language. Do you find it difficult?"
Barch said, "At first glance it looks complicated. I imagine that it's a remarkable vehicle of expression, if a stranger could ever digest it."
Her face showed interest. Barch thought angrily, she probably expected me to grunt like a bear.
Komeitk Lelianr inquired, "Aren't you the one who doesn't like us?"
Barch's eyes narrowed in surprise. He said carefully, "I don't object to Lekthwans as human beings."
"And that's all you feel?"
"I don't think that Earth will ultimately benefit from their presence."
Komeitk Lelianr asked, "What's your name?"
"Roy Barch." And almost rudely, he asked, "What's yours?"
"Komeitk Lelianr."
"Mmph… What does it mean?"
She laughed. "A meaning? Why should it have a meaning?"
"It seems reasonable that an advanced people-as you profess yourselves to be-would use your names to indicate your profession, or home, or some kind of identification."
"Tsk," said Komeitk Lelianr. Her eyebrows moved in what Barch recognized as a change of characterization. "What a terrible idea: regimented, uniform. You suffer misapprehensions about us."
"No less than your misapprehensions about us," growled Barch.
Komeitk Lelianr grinned. "Does your name mean anything?"
"No."
"I'd like to ask a favor of you," she said. "You don't need to ask favors. I'm on the payroll; all you need to do is give orders."
"I'm very much interested in the psychology of other-world races. Would you object if I made a psychometric test of you?"
"Ah," said Barch bitterly. "So now it comes out. I'm to figure as one of your case histories… Typical Earther savage. Perhaps you'd like a photograph of me in my- war-bonnet? Or maybe a recording of me in my native chants?"
"That would be wonderful," said Komeitk Lelianr. "But -do you have your regalia here?"
Barch stared at her. She was unquestionably serious. "We're going to throw a combination cannibal-feed and voodoo orgy tomorrow night on Sunset Boulevard. If you sneak quietly over in your air-sandals, you'll get some really sensational stuff."
Her eyebrows flickered in interest. "Indeed, I would like to visit one of these rites."
"Well," said Barch thoughtfully, "you'd have to disguise yourself. If you powdered over your skin, you probably could pass for a good case of sun-tan. Also, you'd have to wear more clothes. That's a provocative outfit you've got on now."
"I'm not sure I understand. Why do you say that?"
Barch looked away. "I don't know… Yes, I do too."
"Then how should I dress myself?"
He looked sidewise at her. "Are you serious?"
"Of course. Where is this Sunset Boulevard?"
"I could take you," said Barch thoughtfully.
"That would be very helpful."
Barch calculated. "How will we get there?"
"In the air-boat. How else?"
"Your father won't kick?"
"Kick?"
"Object?"
"Of course not." She added soberly, "You must understand, I possibly intend to make anthropology my career." Barch nodded. "Very well, that's a date."
"But what sort of costume must I wear?"
"Anything that covers you from shoulder to knee. If you combed your hair back I suppose you could pass for platinum blonde…"
Darran came in while Barch was knotting his tie. "Where do you think you're going? Why the preparations?"