The eldest Grandmother did not bother turning her old bones to face the new arrival. “Yes, they have. A Grandmother is searching for information on the transferring of custody to new guardians.” She was tempted to comment on the unhealthy pallor of their newest Grandmother, but these children would test the constitution of the eldest Grandmother who had ever lived. The adults had tried to repair their damaged engine and shielding in a failed attempt to save the children. The last adult had died calling for help, and she bad been little more than a child herself. The eldest Grandmother now wished she would have acted more quickly, but she had not understood the situation.
“This shall require visiting Earth space. Do the Grandmothers of theCaltihave any advice for doing so?”
For a Grandmother of no more than six hundred years, she was quick to voice her beliefs. Perhaps they had encouraged her too much when she had been tuk-ranked. She had grown used to being one of the senior voices in that rank. “They advise only that human leadership is greatly divided and that any travels should take into account the fact that the Grandmothers and Grandfathers of that world do not have the full trust of the people. Beyond that, we must wait until all the Grandmothers and all those ranked tuk and ka can discuss this.”
She lumbered closer, moving much slower now than she had a month ago when she had been tuk-ranked. Acting older did not endow her with any additional common sense. It was as if she had gone back to a ka-ranked youngling who still cared how others perceived her. “How can Grandmothers not have the trust of the people?” she asked. “Would not the people simply move to a place where they would be under the leadership of wiser Grandmothers?”
“Do not expect human behavior to match Rownt.”
The young Grandmother displayed a stubborn set to her mouth. “Humans possess palteia, do they not?”
The eldest Grandmother resisted the urge to tighten her nostrils. Because Grandmothers had to live together, such insults were not easily forgotten. “They do. Kawt possess loyalty to their cubs.”
The younger Grandmother paled. She should. To assume one point of similarity implied any general rule was the height of illogic. Such an unsubstantiated belief should not be possessed by one who hoped to lead. And while some of her foolishness could be due to the stress of having so many children in pain on the ship, age should temper strong emotions.
After a pause long enough to ensure the young Grandmother had learned to listen before offering unconsidered opinions, the elder said, “Humans know the love of children so even if they are discomforted by our presence in their space, we must attempt to return the children to their people. However, do not assume their people will conform to our expectations. TheCaltiis full of Rownt who like the Imshee,” she said, not hiding the derision in her voice. Those Grandmothers should spend more time on Prarownt and less time talking to aliens. “Their ability to trade with humans does not prove humans sentient and does not imply we will be equally successful in speaking to such a young and rash race.”
The younger Grandmother was still pale with distress, but she took several minutes to gather herself before speaking. “Many have pointed out that theCaltihave two human palteia who live on their ship. They suggest that it might be possible for the children to remain with us.”
The eldest Grandmother whistled at the thought. The children had recoiled in fear from the sight of the smallest Rownt. They’d huddled together like prey. The eldest spoke slowly. “That is not possible.” She would cut off her own tail before distressing those children more.
“TheCaltihave palteia. Humans can live happily within Rownt societies.”
“Palteia are adults, and in human culture, adulthood has a status not allowed children. Human authorities will want the children returned.”
“Human conflict does not scare us.”
The use of “us” was concerning. A Grandmother, even an elder one, would never go behind the backs of the others to speak to the lower ranks. However, apparently this one had lost at least a century of wisdom in the last ten hours. “The children are frightened by our appearance.” That should not have needed to be said, not when all the Grandmothers had seen the young ones in their distress. “Would you ignore their fear?”
Her nose snapped closed. “You know I would not.”
The eldest Grandmother wondered if she would have to name this one dalit because no Grandmother would ever put her own distress over that of children. And since this conversation had no possible resolution, she chose to walk away before the other female could say something that could not be forgotten. Their ship was too small and it had suffered too many losses in the near past. None of them were emotionally prepared to endure the pain of seeing children suffer, but they were the adults and it fell to them to endure. In silence. Without adding more stress.
So, as much as her eggless nest inspired an urge to claim a child and tuck her under an arm, she would do what was best for the children. She would return them to their home planet. And then perhaps it was time for them to return to Prarownt. It was possible the ship would not take off again, at least not with any of the current Rownt onboard. Some losses were too great for a community, and the bonds that held Rownt together provided more pain than protection.
When she reached the upper level of the temple, she let the silence settle into her bones. It was disquieting—a silent temple. It was as if the heart of their great ship was slowing, weighed down by their griefs the way an elderly Rownt was crushed by her own bones.
She hoped most of the Grandmothers were out providing a calming influence for the younger members of the crew, but she headed for the private command room accessible to Grandmothers. She had expected to find a half dozen of the more technically minded Grandmothers at the computers. Instead, one was working.
The Grandmother who had the most aptitude for alien language sat at a computer, reading with great intensity. The eldest Grandmother stood near, waiting for her to acknowledge her. Whatever documents theCaltihad sent, they demanded the Grandmother’s attention. The eldest settled in for a long wait. An hour passed before the one with language skills turned away from the computer, all color gone from her face.
“Grandmother?” the eldest asked, alarmed at the expression. Unlike the young Grandmother earlier, this one had proven her wisdom and age through many difficulties. However, right now she was pale enough that one might expect she had seen a kawt.
“They have orphanages.”
The eldest Grandmother settled into a seat and attempted to understand the word. Every Rownt knew orphans, but the unfamiliar suffix had to be a human language structure. “Will you define that word?” She felt discomfort at the direct question. Another Grandmother would or would not provide her expertise. It was her choice. However, all of them were distressed and manners had been set aside.
The other Grandmother clenched her hands until the knuckles appeared white. “They have orphans who no adult will claim. Those orphans are left, many of them together in one place and under the care of a few adults who trade their time for money but who maintain little to no emotional connection with the younglings.”
The idea was so horrifying that the eldest could not even understand the words. It was as if she lost her ability to process her own language. However, the other was not finished.
“TheCaltifound statistics on how many of those children were grievously harmed versus which were mildly psychologically damaged. If we return those children, some will have genetic matches who will cherish them, but some will be left in places to suffer great harm.”
In nine hundred years, the eldest had only felt a true killing rage three times. The first had been when her child had died, the victim of carelessness on a ship too old for such mistakes. The second had been during their recent loss. And now she felt her fangs itch with homicidal rage. She would tear all humanity out of existence for allowing such horrors. She would destroy theCaltifor not removing every child from an orphanage once they uncovered the truth.
“What will we do?” the other Grandmother asked. “They fear us, but we cannot turn children over for others to harm.” The Grandmother turned to the eldest as if she had some answer—as if she had, in her nine hundred years of life, come across a similar situation. However, she had no solution and she had no explanation for how some human adults would expose themselves to radiation in order to save children while others would leave them in orphanages. Orphanages. The word was an abomination.
“Let the Grandmothers speak together,” she said, because she had no other words. The Grandmothers would have to come up with some plan to present to the ka and ye-ranks. They suffered already and could not endure more uncertainty. However, that plan would have to protect the children or those same Rownt would not wait until the Grandmother landed the ship before leaving it. While rare, she had known of Rownt who walked into space rather than remain on a ship where the Grandmothers were disastrously wrong, and when the welfare of children were at stake, every Grandmother had best remember that.
