And we’d crashed into it like a meteor.
“Your translator is working better,” Rezor observed, his eyes finding mine again. That fuchsia color bloomed immediately. “You understand me more clearly now?”
“Much better. It learns fast when given enough input.” I gestured vaguely at the settlement around us. “All this conversation helps. Every word I hear, it processes and adds to its database.”
“Impressive.” He seemed genuinely interested. “And you can speak more clearly now too?”
“Getting there. Give it another day or two and I should sound almost fluent.” I paused, considering. “Though I’ll probably always have an accent. The device translates meaning, but it can’t change my vocal patterns completely.”
Baleck had drifted toward a group of workers repairing a building’s foundation. He was attempting conversation, his words halting but earnest. The D’tran workers looked wary but not hostile, answering his questions with careful courtesy.
“Your companion is curious,” Rezor said, watching Baleck with an unreadable expression.
“He’s a communications specialist. Talking to people is literally his job.” I kept pace with Rezor as we continued through the settlement. “He’s trying to learn. To understand your culture.”
“And you?”
“I’m an engineer. I’m trying to understand how everything works.” I gestured at the water channels, the carefully maintained buildings, the strategic placement of everything. “You’ve built something special here. Especially considering your isolation.”
Something like pride flickered across his face. “We survive. We adapt. It’s what D’tran do.”
We walked in silence for a moment, the guards maintaining their perimeter. I was acutely aware of escape routes as we moved. The narrow alleys between buildings. The fact that the outer wall of the settlement was only about three meters high in most places. The patterns of guard patrols.
Not that I was planning to run. Not yet, anyway. But knowing I could was important.
“The forest surrounds us,” Rezor said, gesturing toward the dense tree line visible beyond the settlement’s edge. “It provides much of what we need. Wood for building. Plants for food and medicine. But it’s also dangerous.”
“Predators?”
“Many.” His expression grew serious. “The mountains protect us from the worst of the storms, but also became a refuge for every creature seeking shelter. Some are docile. Others…” He made a slashing gesture. “We hunt only what directly threatens the village. We take what we need for food. Nothing more.”
“Sustainable practices,” I said, understanding. “Don’t take more than the ecosystem can replenish.”
He looked at me sharply, surprised. “Yes. Exactly that.” His eyes shifted to a warmer gold. “It’s my hope that one day, the planet will be free of storms. That all native species will be able to thrive beyond the valley. That’s why we’re so careful about what we kill. We are custodians, not conquerors.”
The philosophy was unexpected. Beautiful, even. I’d assumed a society this isolated and militaristic would be more focused on dominance and survival at any cost. But Rezor spoke of stewardship. Of planning for a future beyond the crisis.
“That’s…actually really forward-thinking,” I said, and meant it.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Small, but genuine. “You sound surprised.”
“Maybe a little. No offense.”
“None taken. We are primitive compared to sky people with devices in their heads and ships that fly between stars.” His gaze moved over the village with pride. “But we’re not unintelligent.”
“Never said you were.”
“Your face did.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then realized he was teasing me. Actually teasing. The stern, imposing leader who’d ordered us bound and dragged down a mountain was making jokes.
“My face,” I said with mock indignation, “is perfectly diplomatic.”
“Your face,” he countered, “says exactly what you’re thinking. It’s very expressive.”
“That’s a polite way of saying I have no poker face.”
“Poker face?” His brow knitted. “What is that?”
