“I had not realized honesty was desired. Since I am told by Liam that you remind him of a Rownt, I will say that your shop is almost not forgettable.”
Tsang did not move, and she wondered if he had taken offense. Human anger was so hard to recognize. However, after a long silence that caused Ito to shift uncomfortably, Tsang said, “Perhaps you don't recognize the value of what I have on the shelves.”
“Or perhaps you overestimate them.”
“My client list would contradict that,” Tsang said with confidence. “In fact, your escort has been attempting to buy the very piece you asked to look at.”
She turned her back and walked closer to the shelves. The containers appeared more decorative than practical and far too small for her hand, just as the ceiling was too low for her height. Earth was a physically uncomfortable planet. “I did not ask to look at anything. Perhaps someone recommended that I consider a piece, but I have yet to see anything that I would invest time or resources to possess.”
Tsang followed her. “Is that a subtle way of reminding me that you have significant resources?”
“I do not need to be subtle.” She turned and looked down at him. “I find subtlety is for creatures who are unfortunately small.”
“Among humans, age does not require growing large enough to crush your own bones.” Tsang crossed his arms. “That seems like a design flaw.”
“Your inadequate lifespan is a larger one.” She watched him. On the other side of the room, Ito continued to shift from one foot to the other, but he did not interfere. She had believed that humans found silence disconcerting, but no one spoke for many minutes. Unlike Ito, Tsang showed no sign of discomfort. He studied her.
“You might not bore me,” he said.
She turned back to the art on the shelves. “Your inability to entertain yourself is of little interest to me.”
Tsang laughed. The exchange lacked the nuances of tone and expression that a Grandmother might use to insult another Rownt, but at the very least, she enjoyed his efforts.
“Come and look at Aizen Myo-o.” He walked toward the inner room. She continued to pace the perimeter of the room and study the art. She knew the names of most tuk-ranked artists whose pieces were traded among Grandmothers, but here were hundreds or thousands of pieces, each as unfamiliar as the next. And yet she could see the skill in each. She wondered if each piece was from a different artist or if humans varied in their style from one piece to another.
She reached the opening to the next room. Fewer pieces were displayed here. The closest appeared to be a type of armor. If the piece was functional, it must be very old because the leather did not appear capable of stopping projectile or energy weapons. She moved on to a display of containers before reaching the carved figure that had inspired this trip. The figure had an alarming expression and wore a carved facsimile of the hide of a predator with the head attached.
The carving was so ornate that the hair of the predator’s fur and each link in the figure’s necklace were clear. The artist had reproduced every wrinkle and fold of the clothing, but more than that, the piece appeared to carry some piece of the artist. She imagined the hand carefully carving this piece. “I do not see art displayed openly in the absence of advertisement. What value do your people place on it?”
Tsang sat on a stool and appeared uninterested in her perusal. He acted as a proper trader. “I thought you had pet humans to ask for help in matters of human preference.”
Grandmother showed her predatory fangs. “Do not refer to palteia as pets.” She leaned forward and narrowed her nose at the very audacity of the statement. She understood the function of Zach’s attachments to Duke. She appreciated the dog’s protectiveness, and his physical companionship had positive effects on Zach’s health. Given Zach’s discomfort with touch and her own inability to comfort her palteia, she was protective of the animal. If an accident were to befall him, she would procure another predator to share her nest. However, to compare him to Zach was an insult too great to go unchallenged.
“Mr. Tsang,” Ito said sharply. “Insulting someone who is not present to defend himself is beneath you.”
Tsang held his ground, but his scent took on a sour undertone. “Then explain what role humans have on your ship.”
Ito stepped between them and faced Tsang. “That is not your business.”
The Grandmother moved rather than pushed Ito aside. “They have whatever role a Rownt would have in the same circumstances. Liam trades. Zach researches. Their status is as Rownt.” She curled her lip farther. Liam had judged this man to be more Rownt than the average human, so she believed he had some purpose in provoking her anger.
Ito turned to her. “Perhaps this is not a good time. We can return later.”
She ignored him and focused on Tsang. The sour scent intensified, but he remained outwardly untouched.
“And do Rownt offer that same respect to other species?” Tsang asked.
Ito sucked in a breath—a strong if unfamiliar reaction. If he were Rownt, she might suspect the sound was related to an angry hiss, but neither human showed other signs of aggression.
She studied Tsang. While her understanding of humans was rather limited, Ito’s reaction suggested that his questions fell outside the boundaries of polite behavior. “We respect the Imshee and the Cy, although we attempt to avoid the latter. We do not respect the Anla.”
Something in Tsang’s scent shifted at the mention of the Anla. “Why don’t you respect them?”
The answer was complex and relied on an understanding of Rownt culture. Neither she nor the other Grandmothers could engage with a species with an inability to avoid harming others. Zach had expressed distress at the Imshee’s resemblance to an insect, but as far as she was concerned, Anla with their mindless followers were far more similar to human ants and bees and other hive-oriented species. And even among Anla leaders, the Grandmothers had no evidence of any motive other than achievement. She thought no more of killing Anla than of killing a kawt who had begun hunting too close to her eggs. She valued Duke’s life more than any Anla.
Given that humans held themselves to a standard that required empathy for even adults who should be able to function without assistance, she had no idea how humans had ever thought trade with the Anla possible. However, she chose words carefully. Had she known the conversation would turn to such matters, she would have requested Liam’s assistance.
“Rownt adults will compete with one another, but a Rownt of the upper ranks who trades with the unranked or young will ensure the trading partner achieves success. To claim a profit off one who cannot protect her own interests is unacceptable. That is why we protect palteia. They are adults and earn rank, but they will never protect their own interests, so to take advantage of them offends the temple.”
