“No,” Grace said. “I’m an economist. What makes you think I’m a mathematician?”
“Just a feeling,” Ray said, looking at the display again.
“Liz already asked about that,” Jack said. “We’ll get someone to tutor Reek Hard—on one condition.”
“Name it,” Ray said. “You want him to stop pestering the women? Bathe every day? Learn English?”
“Just make him pay attention,” Jack said. “We’ll look after the louse, but not if it’s going to be a waste of time.”
“And not if he’s going to make us look bad by being a lazy goof,” Grace added. “Make him work.”
Ray smiled as he thought about his conversation with Faber’s uncle. “Consider it done.”
Ray returned to Vrekle a few days later to check on Faber. “Talking with Shevield, I’m told Vapor’s studying harder,” Dean Zelk said. “Several human students are tutoring him now. But, with a new problem arising, we may still lose out. Is it true that Vapor pushed you the other day?”
“Well, yes,” Ray said. “He lost his temper, but nothing came of it.” Nothing aside from an impressive bruise on the center of his chest, he thought idly.
Zelk exhaled in dismay. “Doing that, his behavior was unbecoming a Vrekle student. Having received some complaints from the student body, I may be forced to remove him from the team.”
Damn Faber, Ray thought. He still didn’t understand that the kya didn’t regard athletes as demigods. “Maybe you can explain what happened as alien behavior,” Ray suggested. “Some humans act like that when they get bad news, and I’d just told Vapor—uh, Faber, that he was in academic trouble. You could call it a ritual display of aggression.”
“I scent.” Zelk closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “Maybe that will work. I’ll toss it on the wind and see who inhales. Meanwhile, it would help if you were seen publicly with Vapor, to show there are no hard feelings.”
“Is that important?” Ray asked. “I can’t say that I like him.”
“Aliens,” Zelk said in resignation. “I don’t know about your people, but to us, it really stinks when members of a herd are at odds. I already have enough trouble with protesters who say that humans are corrupting Vrekle. The team is going out for a trot today; you might tag along.”
The things I do for my commission, Ray thought. He left the office and headed toward the human dormitory. It was fairly early in the morning, and when he entered the dorm most of the human students were getting breakfast or preparing for their classes. Ray found Faber in the kitchen, where he was packing a lunch. “Uh, hi,” Faber said.
“Hello,” Ray said. Faber looked and sounded subdued, which struck Ray as an improvement. “I thought I’d tag along on the team’s run and see how you’re doing.”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Faber said. “It’s only like five or six miles, or maybe kilometers, I think. We’ll be back in time for class. We’re leaving in a little while.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you outside.”
Ray left the kitchen and went into the dorm’s lobby. Elizabeth was on the phone, quietly gronking away in Wideplain. She nodded to Ray, then hung up. “That was Dean Zelk,” she said. “She asked me to keep an eye on you today.”
“Thanks,” Ray said. Zelk obviously didn’t trust Faber’s temper, which struck Ray as proof of her high intelligence. “Maybe I can repay the favor. How about dinner tonight?”
“I’d love it,” Elizabeth said. She glanced at the kitchen entrance. “What happened to Faber? He went to the embassy the other day and talked to Earth. I don’t know what was said, but it put the fear of God into him.”
“It’s more like the fear of celibacy,” Ray said, and described his conversation with McIlvaine. “He’s really studying?” he added.
“Not only that, he got a perfect score on the dummy quiz Alexei gave him last night,” Elizabeth said. “We’ll make a student out of him yet. Give me a minute to change.” She went upstairs.
A short while later Ray, Elizabeth and Faber were trotting away from the campus with the rest of the bagdrag team, following the chunky coach into the grassy hills east of the campus. The team had brought along a large bag, which the players took turns carrying. “Lunch,” Elizabeth puffed as she trotted between Ray and Faber. “This is how prehistoric kya herds took food across wastelands. Used reed baskets and hollowed-out tree trunks. Surrounded the carriers with guards. Had to protect the goodies from other herds.”
Which is where bagdrag comes from, Ray guessed. He said nothing. He wasn’t in top shape, and he didn’t want to waste any breath on speech. At least Faber didn’t have a problem; he was barely working up a sweat. The team stopped for a break after traveling five miles or so. The coach picked a rest site under a clump of trees, and Ray sat down, pulled off his shoes and checked his feet for blisters. Elizabeth sat down next to him, gave him a pill and handed him a bottle of juice from the bag. “How are your feet?”
“A bit sore, but OK. How are you doing?”
“Not too bad.” Like Ray, she was sweaty and out of breath. “We’ll rest for a half-hour before we head back.”
“Good.” Ray swallowed the pill with the juice. Whatever it was, the drink revived him. He went to the bag, where the various players were picking out clumps of fruits and vegetables. Ray took a large cluster of orange leaves and brought it back to Elizabeth. “Better not to eat too much,” she said, taking a leaf. “It’s a long way back.”
Ray nodded, and was about to say something when Faber sat down with them. He gave the leaves a disdainful look. “Rabbit food,” he sneered, opening the lunch he’d packed. “You need real food if you’re going to work out.”
“We’re doing all right,” Elizabeth said.
“Aw, come on,” Faber said, giving her the eye. “You wouldn’t be so scrawny if you started eating some decent meals. You might even be cute with a little meat on your bones. Here.”
“No, thanks.” Elizabeth pulled back as he held out a chicken sandwich. “I’m Catholic. I won’t touch bread.” The comment sailed over Faber’s head, as did her obvious dislike for him. “There’s some knotvine in the bag,” Ray said, to give her an excuse to get away from Faber. “Let’s get some before it all disappears.”
Elizabeth got up and accompanied him to the lunch bag. “Thanks,” she muttered.
“Any time. Doesn’t he know about your allergies?”
“He read somewhere that there’s no such thing as an allergy, so he thinks it’s all psychosomatic.” She sighed, and switched from Wideplain to English. “The idiot. I thought I was at the bottom of his wish list. At least, Mr. Desperate hasn’t made any moves on me until now.”
“That was his idea of making a move?” Ray asked. “I can make better moves than that.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
Ray hesitated. He hadn’t been serious. On the other hand, he mused, he’d had worse ideas. “You’ll see,” he said.
They come to the lunch bag. Ray squeezed in amid the kya who were picking out food, found some knotvine and took a handful. As he walked away he overheard Faber talking with some of the players. “Right now I’d kill for a charbroiled steak,” he said.
Faber’s companions snuffled with nervous laughter. “I thought you had to kill anyway, to get a styake,” one said.
“We don’t kill anything for meat,” Faber said. “Just cattle. Jeeze, you people talk like we were cannibals.”
The kya sniffed in bafflement. “ ‘Cannibals’?” one repeated.