Rivalries
Takil had escaped hisparents’ gaze as soon as possible. They still treated him like a child when he had turned fifty a few growing seasons back. He would not sit in the nest and watch his parents seek trade on their computers. This was a ship—an actual space ship like in the storyscrolls about Prabrateakil. Takil wished he could have lived back then. He could have gone to war against the Cy who had stolen egglings, and he would have cheated the Imshee in trades.
He could still cheat the Imshee if his parents would ever allow him to trade. He watched them. He knew how to seek a trader’s greatest need and exploit it for profit. But they would have him sit in the nest and read storyscrolls until his tail fell off.
This part of the ship lacked the decorated doors that warned a Rownt that he was outside private quarters. Takil wondered if some Rownt changed those decorations. His parents had chosen empty quarters in the tuk section of the ship and that had come with a door decorated with a starscape crowded with tiny suns and fields of space distortion. Neither had shown any interest in having an artist change the door to reflect they were from Prarownt.
Takil would have if they were his quarters. Through the rare viewport and the camera feed, space was a sort of greyish, bluish-black. Prarownt was more beautiful. Maybe he simply preferred planets. He was looking forward to seeing Earth. He had read many stories and he hoped to explore caves. They sounded wonderful.
He pulled on a handle that was set too high to be a proper door; however, the latch remained unmovable. Locked. Takil was ready to move on when someone spoke.
“You should not touch that.”
Takil turned to find a female watching him from a set of stairs that led to the next deck up. She was taller than him, but females grew faster. She had to be close to his age, maybe ten or twenty years older.
“Why not?”
She trilled at him. “Everyone knows the high latches are for emergency supplies.” Two more Rownt—a younger male and a female near enough the first’s age to have come from the same laying of eggs—followed her down the stairs.
Takil would not be trilled at by anyone. “I have never been on a ship, so my ignorance is expected. But I will learn faster than you could learn to navigate the planet.” He stood straighter.
The female trilled again. “Planets are easy. Learning a ship is harder. I am Rewa, the offspring of Zach and a Grandmother. I know this ship, so I could learn a planet in less time than it takes you to find an emergency shelter.” She even added a flip of her tail as if she was old enough for arrogance to be attractive.
“That shows your ignorance. The planet has kawt and storms and rockslides,” Takil said. The other Rownt widened their eyes at that. Takil could make good use of their curiosity. His parents travelled so much and were so respected that he had seen more of Prarownt than most Rownt half a millennia old.
Rewa was not yet ready to cede the battlefield. “A ship has engines that can explode. One cannot escape an exploding engine. One can run from a kawt,” she said.
“You speak and show your ignorance. One cannot run from a kawt. One must face it. You would be eaten within a growing season.”
Her tail flipped harder. “I would not. If you can survive the planet, then any eggling could. Or perhaps you survived because you are an eggling clinging to a parent’s leg.” Their audience trilled their appreciation for the insult, and Takil had to take a breath to release the instinct to tackle Rewa to the decking. He would only prove his immaturity if he tried, and she was bigger.
He stood taller. “How wise you must be to speak of something you have never seen.” This time the audience’s trilling was aimed at her. Rewa paled with anger and crouched. Takil stretched out more, silently daring her to turn this competition physical. He would not lose status if an older Rownt had less control. A few bruises would be worth the price.
Her tail lashed, but she straightened and looked down at him despite the fact that she was only a hand taller. The gesture required her to bend her neck in ways that appeared uncomfortable. “One does not need to see a storm to know that thunder outside one’s window means rain will follow.”
“Silence would better preserve your illusion of intelligence,” Takil shot back. “An avalanche or a rockslide are indistinguishable from thunder, but no rain will follow.” Takil did not know if he spoke the truth, but none of these ship-Rownt would know the difference. “And even if one is close enough to a cloud to hear the thunder, one is not necessarily in the path of that cloud any more than a herd of desga is obligated to trample you simply because you heard their hooves.” He was far more confident of that fact.
“I have read of desga,” the smaller male said. No doubt he hoped for stories. Takil wondered if he should tell the stories and trust the others to reciprocate or if he should demand they share some of the ship’s secrets first. He did not want to appear unsocial, but he did not know these Rownt well enough to trust them.
“My parents are ranked Grandmother,” Rewa blurted.
“My parents were the youngest Rownt to ever claim status of tuk, so when they are as old as your parents, they will be even wiser.” The moment Takil made the statement, he felt the burn of embarrassment. Insults were proper, but he was claiming his parents' status as a skill he could boast of. If either of his parents heard him, they would rightly accuse him of having egg stuck on his tail. His only comfort was that Rewa was even older, and she had made the same error. In fact, she had led the way.
Now an awkward silence fell over all four of them. They studied one another, and Takil searched for a way to escape the discomfort. He could not construct the right words, and fleeing would add another immature act to the one he had already committed.
