“She would have respected that. She has often commented on human stupidity in the area of trust.” Liam suspected the Rownt would have happily avoided humans or at the very least continued to limit them to contact only through the trading centers on Janatjanay except they found that humans could produce palteia.
“Does she think we should drive the Rownt away from Earth and our territories?”
That had taken a sudden turn Liam had not expected. “Trying to do that would be stupid because they have so much more technology. If Earth ships opened fire, the Rownt could turn big chunks of the planet into steaming holes.”
“I thought they had respect for life.” Tsang crossed his arms. Maybe Liam had woken him because the subtlety of earlier was gone, replaced with unvarnished anger that Liam didn’t understand.
“They respect the lives of children and palteia, and they don’t take life for no reason. But you asked about Earth driving Rownt ships away. Short of Earth opening fire, Rownt wouldn’t engage in violence. However, she does think humans should worry more about traders who don’t show both hands.” A passing car illuminated the shop, catching Tsang in the bright beams of the headlights. His eyes were swollen and red.
“My neighbors are too curious. Get in here.” Tsang retreated into his shop. In other circumstances, Liam would have left the box on the doorstep and fled the scene, but he had agreed to deliver the statues, and Liam would not risk losing such beautiful pieces of art. He followed Tsang.
The shop was dimly lit. “Where is your government minder?” Tsang asked.
That was a touchy subject. “I used Rownt technology to avoid human security,” Liam said. “The Grandmother adamantly insisted I not bring government officials to your door.”
Tsang didn’t respond. He stared off at the shadows.
“Whatever you said, it has led her to respect the position of the protestors. We will not return to Earth for many years, if ever.” Liam wasn’t sure what he thought of that. He had lost Earth a long time ago, but this felt like a door closing.
Tsang didn’t turn around. “I won’t thank you for that.”
“I don’t see why you would.”
“Did the Grandmother tell you why I wanted her off the planet?”
“No.” Liam placed the box on the display case and pulled out the statues. Between the subject of the art and Tsang’s evident grief, Liam could make a few guesses, although he still didn’t understand how a lost child had convinced the Grandmothers that the protestors were the most rational humans on the planet and staying disrespected them.
The statues were heavy, carved from solid stone. Liam put the first near Tsang’s elbow. It was the male with the baby. His face was love. It was wonder and protection and comfort. Liam pulled out the matching partner. The female’s face was love and pride and determination. These were the Rownt Liam knew, and now the Grandmother hoped to show Tsang.
He turned his head. Even in the dull light, the iridescent creams and pale green of the stone shone. Maybe it shone because the light was so dim.
Tsang touched the walking eggling with reverence before he turned the statue so he could see it more fully. His fingers traced the eggling’s features, the length of his tail and the arm thrown out to the side to help him keep his balance. Tsang’s fingers explored every line the artist’s chisel had once followed.
“Get out,” Tsang said, a tremor in his voice.
Liam collected the box and packing materials. He hesitated for a moment. Tsang continued to stare at the statues, his hand moving to the baby in the male’s arms. Not knowing any words to ease the grief that filled the room, Liam left, closing the door behind him.
