Fire with Fire(158)

“That seems an overly harsh self-assessment, Alnduul. But, on a practical level, since we do not know what the Accord’s current tensions pertain to, it is difficult for us to know how best to proceed.”

“We are aware of, and regret, this.” Glayaazh considered the small bowl which, minutes before, had held a thorough sampling of the sashimi: the fish was gone, the rice remained. “I must also remark that despite your artfully oblique inquiry, I cannot tell you more about these disagreements.” A pause. “Not at this time.”

Caine remained calm, even as he grasped after the thin strand of hope that Glayaazh had just proffered. “Can you tell us more about these disagreements before we return to Earth?”

“I would like to do so.”

Visser folded her hands. “May I speak frankly?”

“Of course.”

“It is of great importance to us to better understand the frictions to which you allude. So when deciding whether you will share this information with us, what will determine your course of action?”

“Why, your course of action.” Glayaazh placed her bowl delicately on the nearest buffet table. “You must excuse me: I tire easily. The ceviche was particularly delectable. I thank you.” She splayed her fingers—“Enlightenment unto you”—and started toward the exit.

Caine moved his arms to return her gesture—and barely stifled a gasp of pain: there was a sudden uncomfortable spasm in the arm which had been wounded during the assassination attempt on Mars. Damn. He rubbed the small scar: the spasm—not really a pain—had been a surprise, since the injury hadn’t bothered him for at least two weeks. He looked up: Visser had left along with Alnduul, attending Glayaazh and her retinue to the exit.

Caine considered selecting a quick snack—and heard a desperate gagging sound. He looked up, scanning, and saw both Downing and First Voice trying to choke down some delicacy that obviously failed to appeal to either of them.

“Old Families, old ways, old tastes.”

Caine turned. Yaargraukh stood just behind him: his black tongue swished about like the tail of an intrigued cat, but was hidden behind a massive “hand.” Caine smiled. “It seems that the Hkh’Rkh do not enjoy the ikura.”

“Not all of us. Not all humans either, it seems.” Downing was trying to wash down the last of the salmon roe with gulps of cold water.

“And you—do you enjoy the ikura?”

“The eggs of sea-creatures?” Yaargraukh’s neck oscillated. “It is not a taste I am accustomed to, but it is not unpleasant. But then again, I haven’t the luxury of only indulging the tastes of my ancestors: I am not of an Old Family.”

“I do not understand: what do you mean, Old Family?”

“My regrets: I forget you have not read our self-reference. The Old Families trace their lineage back through dozens, even hundreds, of generations. They are what you would call our aristocracy.” Caine was not yet fully accustomed to the inflections and intonations of English as spoken by the Hkh’Rkh, but Yaargraukh did not sound enthused.

“They are a minority of the Hkh’Rkh?”

“No, they are the majority—although that is changing. New Families—like mine—will soon be the most populous. If not in my lifetime, then during the lives of those I sire.”

So Earth wasn’t the only planet in the throes of dramatic social change. “How does a ‘New’ Family come into existence?”

“Many ways, but usually it is built from the remains of an earlier Family that was destroyed in war, or which was disbanded into Hearthless individuals. Sometimes, groups of the Hearthless can cohere long enough to establish a New Family, but that is rare.”

What a peaceful sounding bunch. “It sounds as though the Hkh’Rkh are constantly involved in—settling challenges.”

Yaargraukh looked at Caine directly. “What you wish to say is that we are always at war. You may speak your mind with me, Spokesmale Caine of the Family Riordan. I am your Advocate, and what is more, we have already shared truths that did not have to be uttered. We are on the path to more shared truths. Let us face them frankly.”

“Agreed, Yaargraukh. And you may simply call me Caine.”

Yaargraukh paused. “Among us, it is a blow to honor not to speak one’s Family and title. Or it is a sign of great familiarity, as among members of the same Family. I would not diminish what honor you might one day prove to have, Spokesmale Caine of the Family Riordan.”

“Among humans, to address each other by first names alone is to share the hope that one will share more and more truths.”