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"That I-"
"Your people. Though the disease existed for a few years before you arrived. I am sorry to say that there is some distrust of you."
"Oh, no," she said, appalled. "We would never do anything like that. I a.s.sure you that you can trust us."
Delgado's head jerked toward her; she could not make out his expression in the dim smoky light.
"I hope we can put to rest all your suspicion," she said into the silence. "We are here to help you."
"That's the first time I've heard you lie," Delgado said. Their briefings after the negotiations had evolved into something more informal, dinner or coffee at the emba.s.sy cafeteria. And Delgado himself seemed more at ease with her, less inclined to launch into a lecture on any pretext.
"Lie? What do you mean?" She poured coffee from the urn and headed toward a free table. He got his own cup and followed.
"When you said we would never intentionally bring disease." He sat. "Earth's history is full of examples where we did just that. People gave blankets infected with smallpox to Native Americans, for example."
"Oh, but that was a long time ago! I remember that story now, but I certainly wasn't thinking of it during the negotiations."
Delgado looked at her silently, his full lips curled up in a smile. "Look," she said. "I'm not here to fill the Hwaru in on every terrible thing we've done throughout our history. I have to put the best face on things. My father used to say, 'An amba.s.sador is an honest man sent to lie abroad for the good of his country.' He was quoting someone, I don't remember who-"
"I've heard of your father. He negotiated the Peace of Altair, didn't he?"
She smiled wryly. "Everyone's heard of him."
"How old were you then?"
"About five. I don't remember much, just sitting on the floor and playing with my glow-gun while my father had long conversations with something that looked like a giant green lobster."
"So you were there at the talks themselves?"
"Oh, yeah. My father wanted me to learn everything I could, for when I joined s.p.a.ceAdmin myself. I remember that I was under strict orders not to point my gun at the lobster and make him glow."
"Did you go with him on every posting, then?"
"Sure. That was my whole childhood, moving from planet to planet, going wherever my father was needed. My mother couldn't take it-she finally left us and went back to Earth. What about you? Where did you grow up?"
"Merida, in Mexico. I never went anywhere, just stayed in the same town until I left for college."
She shook her head. "I can't imagine that. What was it like? Did you have a big family?"
"Huge. Aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters and cousins and dogs-"
"You had dogs?"
"Lots. Why?"
"Well, I'm wondering about the dogs here. I still can't get over it. I mean, wouldn't the Hwaru, well, look wrong to the dogs somehow?"
"Smell wrong, more likely. Dogs rely on smell more than any other sense."
"You sound like you've been researching this."
"I have been, yes. The thing about dogs-they're pack animals. They're happiest when they're in a group, and when they know what everyone's place is in that group. Someone has to be the pack leader, the alpha dog, and if you want your dog to obey you, that has to be you, the owner. It doesn't bother them that their pack includes another species. I never thought about it when I was a kid, but it's amazing, really, that it doesn't, that they're so open to animals that act and smell different from them, that aren't dogs. They're the opposite of bigoted. There are stories of gorillas in captivity keeping dogs as pets, and race horses that won't run if their dogs aren't there. Dogs seem to accept any species joining the pack, anyone that has the presence to become pack leader. Even aliens, apparently."
"Yes, but humans grew up with dogs. We evolved with them. So did gorillas and horses, for that matter. You said it yourself-anyone not from Earth would smell wrong. Have dogs ever accepted any other alien species?"
"There's no record of it happening. But it does make a sort of sense that they would. If they can join other non-dog species, why not aliens?" He finished his coffee and grinned at her. "There's a paper to be written here."
The negotiations went on. She met with Go-Between nearly every day, with time off for the Hwaru's holidays. (She, of course, had no holidays.) She talked about the technology the humans could give the Hwaru, the medical advances that could be theirs as soon as scientists had a chance to study Hwaru biology, the knowledge the two cultures could exchange.
The negotiations moved slowly; in the maddening silences between conversation, time seemed to crawl, almost stop altogether. Sometimes, she sensed resistance from Go-Between, but she told herself that she was imagining it, that it was only a function of the slow pace of the talks.
She wondered once or twice what would happen if she did not succeed, if the Hwaru did not agree to the port expansion. Her upward climb in s.p.a.ceAdmin would come to an abrupt end; she would be sent to some backwater planet with no chance for advancement. "Never think about failure," her father used to say. "Keep your goal ahead of you at all times."
She took to wandering Port City whenever she had a spare moment, trying to become familiar withevery corner and crevice, looking for any possible advantage in the talks. And she could not help but be fascinated by the city: the sweet lingering odor, strongest in the Hwaru hearth but present everywhere, the beautiful colors of the leaves, the tall angular males and the round fat females, headed on unguessable errands of their own. They walked so gracefully, as if in a stately procession. And what did the females do? She would have to ask Delgado.
One afternoon, she heard a commotion up ahead, and strained to see in the murky light. A group of soldiers were laughing and shouting. "Hey, Sheepface!" one of them called.
"Baaa! Baaa!"
"Hey, s.h.i.tface! Look at us when we're talking to you!"
The soldiers had surrounded a Hwaru male and were backing him against a wall; she could see his dark muzzle looming above the crowd. "Stop that!" she said, hurrying forward. "Stop it right now!"
"Don't let the dog escape!" one of the soldiers said. "Here, doggie!"
A dog? Oh, G.o.d, it wasn't Go-Between, was it? She broke into a run.
"Sheep shouldn't have dogs!"
"It's a sheepdog!"
Harsh laughter rose up at this. She ran faster. She sensed other people hurrying after her but she had no time to stop.
"Baaa, baaa, black sheep!" someone said.
"Get away from him," she called, breathing hard. No one paid her any attention. Louder, she said, "Right now. That's an order, soldiers!"
Some of the men turned away from the Hwaru and looked at her, befuddled. They were drunk, she saw. Anger filled her. She would discharge their sorry a.s.ses and get them off-planet before they had a chance to sober up.
Other men closed in around the Hwaru. She heard a dog yelp. Suddenly, she realized where she was, a lone woman in a crowd of hostile, raucous men, all of them armed, most too drunk to understand the damage she could do to their careers.
Then Hwaru surrounded her on all sides, a dozen of them, maybe more, males and females. And more dogs, dogs swarming between the legs of the Hwaru, barking urgently, growling, baring their teeth at the soldiers.
The soldiers slowly became aware of the crowd around them. They stopped and backed away, then ran off into the dark. Should she tell them to stay? "Never give an order you know won't be obeyed," her father had said. She let them go.
A dog whimpered. A Hwaru male bent over it. His scent was very strong, something like burning metal. Oh, G.o.d, it was Go-Between. He would never deal with her after this; the negotiations had failed.
"Go-Between?" she said.
"Yes?" said a voice behind her.
She turned quickly. A tall Hwaru stood there. She recognized the gems glimmering at his neck and wrists and flushed with embarra.s.sment. She couldn't even tell one Hwaru from another; she was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up in all kinds of ways today. "I want to a.s.sure you that this will never happen again," she said to Go-Between. "These men will be disciplined."
"Let's not worry about that for the moment," Go-Between said in his loud voice. "We need to get the dog back to the hearth."
The other Hwaru-the dog's owner-moved aside, and now she could see that the dog looked nothing like Fido; it had short brown fur, pointed ears, and a strange crooked tail. It lay on its side, panting heavily.
The headlights of an emba.s.sy car cut through the gloom. Thank G.o.d, she might still be able to salvage something from this situation. She waved it down. It came to a stop and two soldiers got out.
"We need to get to the hearth, fast," she said to them. "This Hwaru here and the dog, who's injured, and Go-Between and I."
The two men responded quickly to the emergency. One of them took off his coat and maneuvered the dog onto it; the dog whimpered quietly. The other opened the car door and helped lift the makeshift bedonto the backseat. The two Hwaru got in with the dog; Majli crowded in with the soldiers in the front.
"I'm very sorry this happened," she said, twisting in her seat to look at the Hwaru. The car turned around and headed toward the checkpoint. "And I'm sorry I didn't recognize you, but it was dark...."
Never apologize unless you absolutely have to, her father had said. What would he think of her behavior today? But she was in the wrong, she and the people under her command. Surely he would understand that.
"I am not offended," Go-Between said. "It is very hard for us to distinguish you humans by sight, one from another. You all look alike to us, even your males and females the same."
She nearly grinned at hearing the ancient cliche come from Go-Between's strange muzzle. But she had to concentrate, had to save something from this debacle. Amazingly, Go-Between and the other Hwaru did not seem angry. Perhaps they had misunderstood, perhaps they had taken the soldiers' hostility for high spirits. The other Hwaru did not look hurt, thank G.o.d.
"This is Hiraz, one of our hearth," Go-Between said, indicating the other Hwaru. "Hiraz, this is Amba.s.sador Majli Iris."
"I am very pleased to meet you," Majli said. She searched for a neutral topic. "Why do you like dogs so much?"
"Dogs?" Go-Between's muzzle opened; she knew by now that that meant he was smiling. "Dogs are amazing animals. They are so happy, they live in the moment. Look at this one-" He nodded to the dog on the seat next to him, its eyes closed, its breathing regular now. "He's asleep. After everything that happened, he's asleep. They are so uncomplicated. It is good to be uncomplicated, sometimes."
His eyes met hers. For the first time in their negotiations, they shared a moment of pure communication; she knew exactly what he was thinking. He was telling her that the two of them were doing a complicated dance, that he understood all the reasons why the dance had to continue, but that he regretted the necessity for it all the same.
She nodded. She regretted it too, sometimes. Once or twice during the talks she had wondered what would happen if she simply said, "Okay. You have the land-we want it. Yes or no?"
Go-Between ran his hand lightly over the dog's flank. "He seems not to be hurt, merely frightened. But look-" He indicated the dog's crooked tail, then gently parted the fur on its side to show her an ugly scar, a long pale gash. "He was injured badly once. I wonder what happened. Well, there's no way of telling now."
"Maybe a car accident?" she suggested.
The car pulled up to the checkpoint and the guards waved them through. She faced forward, needing to hold on to the door handle as they jounced along the rutted roads.
When they arrived at the hearth, the soldiers jumped out and opened the doors, then lifted the dog between them and carried it inside. In the main room, the familiar confusion swirled around them, children yelling and growling, dogs playing, someone calling across the room, someone else hurrying through with a platter of food.
A dog separated from the pack and ran up to them, tail wagging wildly. It was Fido, she saw, thrilled that her owner had come home. "How can you not like dogs?" Go-Between said, smiling.
He turned to the soldiers. "Put the dog down over here," he said, indicating a spot by the fire. The soldiers settled it gently on a pile of blankets. Fido padded toward the blankets, ears down, legs stiff, hackles raised, prepared to fight this interloper in her spot. Then, suddenly, she backed away and returned to the pack. Once again, Majli was amazed at how well-behaved the dog was.
The other dog opened its eyes and then, to Majli's surprise, wagged its misshapen tail feebly, clearly happy to be home and safe and warm. "You can communicate with dogs," someone said behind her.
Majli turned. Hiraz stood behind her. "You asked why we like dogs," he said. His accent was stronger than Go-Between's; the words came from deeper within his muzzle and sounded close to a growl. "It is partly because you can communicate with them."
Go-Between looked at Hiraz quickly, a complex expression that Majli couldn't interpret. "You can communicate with cats, too, probably," Hiraz said. "But they seem not to want to."
"Thank you for all your help," Go-Between said. "We can take care of everything from here." Should she ask whether the talks would continue after this? No, best to act as if nothing had changed.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then."
"Tomorrow," Go-Between said.
She breathed a sigh of relief and headed back to the car.
A few days later, the base commander reported that Hiraz had identified one of the soldiers who had surrounded him, and that, acting on Hiraz's information, they had arrested Private Tully Walter. "He says he didn't do it, though," the commander said. "And we can't hold him much longer-we'll have to let him go if there's no evidence."
Majli arranged for an interview with Walter at the stockade. The interview room consisted of a table and several chairs. She took one facing the soldier. A guard sat between them.
"What exactly was the idea of attacking one of the Hwaru?" she asked with no preliminaries.
"I didn't do anything," Walter said. "I wasn't even there."
"That's not what our informant says. We have a witness who puts you right at the scene."
"A witness? Who?"
A Hwaru, Majli thought. Suddenly she remembered Go-Between saying, "You all look alike to us,"
and she wondered exactly how Hiraz had identified this man.
She forced the thought aside; she could not afford to let her doubt show. "Look," she said, leaning forward. "These talks are critical. s.p.a.ceAdmin needs this port. If someone interferes with the negotiations here-and that includes hara.s.sing the Hwaru, giving them the idea we won't make good neighbors-well, that could be grounds for court martial."
Walter went very pale. "I didn't do it," he said. "I never touched him."
"Who did touch him?" Majli asked softly. "Give me a name, and I'll see that you get off fairly lightly."
"A guy named San Corio," Walter said reluctantly. "It was his idea. He saw the Sh-the Hwaru, walking all by himself, just him and the dog, and he said-well, the dog made him angry. I mean, they're our dogs."
"And then what happened?"
"Well, then he started yelling. He said that-excuse me, but he said that sheep shouldn't own dogs.
He said it was up to us to rescue it. We didn't mean to hurt him, we just wanted to get the dog back.
And then it all got out of control. I didn't touch him, though, I swear. I was at the back. I may have yelled a few things, but I never touched him."
"All right. We'll talk to Corio, see what he has to say."
"What about me? What's going to happen to me now?"