Dante scrubbed his hand over his eyes and counted to ten before getting control of his temper.
“Here’s another truth you need to understand,” Dante said. “The Kowri consider words to be as offensive as actions. If you tell someone that they are so stupid that they act like they've been kicked in the head too many times, that is nearly as offensive as kicking them in the head.” Dante willed Ter to understand.
Ter’s elbows jutted out farther. “It is not my obligation to make allowances for an illogical species. If Kowri want to act as if words and behavior are morally equivalent, then I can explain the illogical conclusions that would lead to. However, I will not silence myself.”
“Ter...” Dante stopped, not sure how to get the truth through the wall of Ter’s stubbornness.
“I acknowledge that you are hampered by a lack of experience with species outside your own,” Ter said, which seemed like a kind way of saying stupid. Before Dante could respond, Ter continued. “Words are attempts to define the truth, and every sapient creature is entitled to their truth.”
Dante ran his fingers through his hair and searched for the right words. “Ter, my people have a saying. They say sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me.”
“Excellent.” The angles of Ter’s elbows eased. “It appears that huumans possess at least a seed of logic, which is a vast improvement over large parts of the universe. Perhaps you can explain this to the Kowri so that they will stop attempting to censor my truth-telling.”
Dante sighed. “However, we can create truths instead of simply describing them.”
Ter narrowed his eyes. “I retract my earlier words. Huumans are stupid.”
Dante searched for a new way to explain this. “If you tell a human long enough that they are worthless, then they will start acting as if they have no worth. Words can create truths instead of describing them.”
“That's stupid. What sort of fool would allow someone else's truth to redefine their own interpretation?”
Dante took a deep breath and reminded himself that his fate was now tied to Ter’s, and he needed to get the man to understand that the situation had changed. Although Dante was insanely jealous Ter’s species possessed so much self-confidence other people could never tear that away from them.
“I was not the only person taken from my planet. There were others.” Dante didn’t want to share this part of himself, but he had to get through to Ter.
“I have assumed so. It would be highly illogical to visit some underdeveloped out-of-the-way planets only to remove one individual to work as a slave.” Ter got off his bed and started exploring the corners of the room. He poked a control panel, but nothing happened. “That would be a terrible waste of fuel,” he finished.
Dante gritted his teeth even though Ter had reduced the greatest pain of his life to a logistical problem involving rocket fuel. “Sophie was eighteen, the age at which a person is first considered an adult. And Carlos loved the dops.” Dante took a deep breath as the pain washed through him. “Richard used to tell us stories from history. He knew so much; he actually made it interesting.”
Ter abandoned the dark control panel and turned to study Dante. “I understand these people were killed by the slavers. Iregret their passing. I am sure that the Coalition will conduct an appropriate search to find those responsible and incarcerate them for an appropriate amount of time.”
“Sophie wanted to be a doctor. She broke into a radioactive area.”
Ter took a step closer. “That was foolish. Radioactive zones are inimical to life.”
“She knew that. And Carlos loved the dops, but he intentionally poked one over and over and over until it hit him with his quills.” Dante swallowed his pain. “His whole arm swelled up before the poison reached his heart.” He pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes and tried to repress the memory. Peaches chittered as though trying to comfort him. He picked her up from the small shelf next to the bed where she had settled during take-off and stroked her quills.
“Why would he do that?” Ter seemed willing to listen. Instead of filling the silence with his own arguments, he stared at Dante.
Dante whispered, “Over and over again the slavers told us that we would never escape... that we were worthless. And they said these things so often those words became truth. My friends chose to die because someone else's words had changed their reality until they couldn't see any other alternative.”
Ter's mouth opened but he didn't say anything.
Dante stood taller. “If I had stayed with the slavers, I would've done the same. I had already decided that I would use Peaches. Her poison is powerful because she's older, and I was going to hold her close to my neck before I poked her until she slapped me with her tail. That much poison so close to my head would have killed me fast.” Dante’s voice shook.
When Ter spoke, his words came slowly. “But their words were not truth. We found the slavers’ ship. We freed you. That demonstrates the inability of words to define truths. They canonly describe their perspective.” Despite his words, Ter didn’t sound as sure.
“Untrue,” Dante said. “Carlos is gone. Richard is gone. David and Sophie and that weird little guy who would never give us his name—they are all gone. Words changed them until they couldn't live.”
Ter blinked so fast his eyelids fluttered, and he tucked his elbows in. “The Coalition charter guarantees that every species has a right to practice its own cultural traditions.”
“When we are in Coalition space, I can see where that might make sense. No one on the ship took your words seriously, so honestly I found them amusing. But this isn't a Coalition ship, and I suspect that the Kowri are much closer to humans than anyone in your Coalition. I am asking you to stop sharing so much truth. They will consider it an attack, and it will put us in a more difficult situation.”
“‘More difficult’,” Ter said with an amused trill in his voice. “We have been kidnapped by a species that is known for murdering outsiders. I will not abandon the truth to placate violent individuals who are likely to kill us anyway.”
“They will not kill us.” Dante refused to consider any other outcome because his fear was too close to the surface. “We both have temple status, and they will not offend their gods by killing us.”
“Now you sound like a Kowri, calling on the gods to fix things.”
