Early Byrd (4 page)

Artemu clans were divided by language more
than anything else, though pretty much everyone spoke Gonther as a
second, common tongue. So the aliens in their own minds divided
human "clans" strictly by language as well and set up their
administrative networks accordingly. It was up to us humans, as the
losers, to adapt to their way of doing things. In some places this
didn't cause too many problems—the US, Britain, and the
commonwealth nations hadn't had too much trouble developing a
mutually satisfactory system for dealing officially with the
Artemu, for example. We English-speaking countries had gotten along
well together for a long time. Yet, even among such historically
good and well-meaning friends, in some ways the new setup was a
real mess and all the bugs hadn't been worked out yet. Dad
complained that he had to spend more time bickering over personal
and national privileges than actually getting any work done. But
our problems were
nothing
to those faced by, say, the Arabic
and Spanish-speaking countries. At any rate, the Artemu had set up
a series of local administrative centers all over the planet, and
we were headed for the one in
Vancouver, Canada
. "But . . . I packed my passport
in with my clothes!" Tim complained.

Rapput laughed. "Don't worry, nephew. You'll
never need travel documents again. Gonther-clan
issues
such
documents. We're not troubled to carry them."

That made Mr. Li blink, but otherwise no one
said anything more. Nor did anyone ask any of us for so much as a
scrap of paperwork as we landed on what'd once been the main
parking lot of the finest hotel in the province, greeted by what
looked like a platoon of the first Artemu I'd ever seen carrying
military arms, lining one side of the landing zone and standing
stiff and straight. They held that posture the whole time it took
us to disembark and walk to the hotel's main entrance; Rapput and
Mr. Li both ignored them, so Tim and I did so as well even though
it felt impolite. Then we were all on the elevator together, headed
for Rapput's private set of suites on the fifth floor.

"You two," he said to his Artemesian
servants, "will tend to the luggage and set up my nephew's quarters
for the night. You need not unpack everything, as we'll be leaving
for home tomorrow afternoon. Let the boys pick and choose—they know
best what they do and don't need. Should you question their
judgment, contact me."

The two Artemu servants bowed, keeping their
eyes low.

Then it was Mr. Li's turn to be attended to.
"Congressman Byrd claims you have three . . . doctorate degrees?
Are you a healer, then? My understanding was that you were a
physical fitness academic."

He smiled. "No sir. I'm not a physician,
though that's a common misunderstanding. In English-speaking places
the title 'doctor' is also applied to those who achieve our highest
level of educational attainment. In my case, I have doctorates in
human physiology, American history, and Korean studies."

"Hrrm," Rapput replied, looking thoughtful.
Just as the elevator doors opened, he came to a decision. "Then
perhaps the congressman is correct. You might indeed prove useful
as an academic tutor as well, though of course a subordinate one.
In truth my planning is deficient. When I left the homeworld, there
were as yet no plans to take hostages at all." He led us through
the elevator door and stopped again in the hallway. "You'll find
Artemesian teaching machines in the boys' rooms, Mr. Li, along with
primary-school level datacubes. While my nephews are obviously long
past these in academic terms, they contain important cultural
elements. It is my hope to impart these as soon as possible." He
crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes in what was clearly a formal
Posture, but not one I knew yet. "Therefore, you shall sit down
with these teaching machines and master their operation as soon as
you yourself are unpacked and settled in, so as to help our
students along as much as possible during the long trip home. This
should be a relatively simple matter—they're meant to be operated
by mere kits, and your command of our language is commendable.
"

I
inhaled
; Mr. Li didn't strike as the sort of man who'd take
well to being ordered around. But he merely smiled and bowed. "Of
course, sir. At once."

Rapput's eyes narrowed again, then rather
reluctantly he nodded. "You're a good man, Li. Thank you. Perhaps
we might make good use of your academic background in the long run
after all." Last of all, he turned to us. "Boys, you've heard the
plan. Now please be so good as to unpack for the night and
cooperate with the domestic staff. Remember always that toying with
servants is ignoble and base—a poor way to repay true loyalty. Do
we understand each other?"

I gulped, and Tim replied, "Yes, sir!"

Rapput smiled. "Good! Then, if there's
nothing more to be done here, I have what seems like several
hundred reports to finalize and file before leaving the planet. If
something important comes up, then by all means consult me.
Otherwise, I fear I must work even harder than any of the rest of
you." He reached out and laid his hands on our heads like he'd
already done several times already. "The future lies heaviest on
the most responsible. Good night, and I'll see you in the
morning."

8

My servant was apparently a lot better at his job
than Tim's was, because he had me all set up and unloaded a good
half-hour before his partner. Or perhaps he'd simply packed more
logically. When finished he strode to the door, bowed deeply, and
in a hushed, shy-sounding voice said, "I am Giril, Robertherman
Gonther, eternally at your service. Have you any further need of
this servant today?"

At first my jaw dropped because I thought
he'd said his name was Girl, which was funny enough in its own
right but triply so for an Artemu. Then I remembered what Rapput
had said about faithful and honest service, and forced back my
smile. It was, after all, the most sensible thing my new uncle had
said all day. "I'm grateful for your help on this special and
difficult day, Giril, and while I don't yet know how to properly
work with you, be assured that I'm very satisfied indeed."

His face lit up like a child's. "Lord Rapput
explained to us that you can't yet be expected to know civilized
ways," he replied, bowing a second time. "But he never told us your
kind was so . . . pleasant. I am indeed a lucky servant." Then he
turned and left.

Tim's helper was still busily opening and
closing containers in the next room; the walls were thin, and the
lids made a loud snapping sound whenever the seal was made or
broken. My brother was probably looking for his toothbrush or
something like that; he often mislaid small items. At no point had
anyone told me I was required to remain in my room, so I decided to
do some careful exploring.

I'd been in big, expensive hotels before
with Mom and Dad. On Inauguration Day we'd stayed at one of the
best places in Maryland, or so Mom claimed, while on another trip
we'd slept in a super-fancy building in New Orleans that’d smelled
bad. Though I wasn't exactly a grown-up, after those experiences
the finest suites in Vancouver still weren't likely to impress me.
And they didn't, though that wasn't the Canadian's fault. After
all, the finest lodgings in my own native Montana were probably
less impressive still. It was just that really fancy hotels sort of
clustered over time around cities that were the focus of one sort
of power or another, Dad had explained one day after a conversation
that'd begun with Tim pointing at a bidet and asking what it was.
Vancouver was relatively new to the center-of-power thing, I
figured. Give them time, and with the help of the Artemu their
lodgings would soon rival those of New York, London, and Paris.

"Well, hello!" a female voice greeted me as
I jogged along the curved corridor back toward my room; my first
attempt to find the main elevators had taken me directly to the
fire-stairs, in exactly the opposite direction to that which I’d
wished to go. There stood a woman in a hotel uniform. "Who do we
have here, playing among our new masters?"

I smiled, mostly because her face was so
friendly and her smile so pretty. She looked like Mom. "We're
hostages," I explained. "My brother and I. He's in
five-nineteen."

Her eyebrows rose past her bangs.
"Hostages?"

"Sort of, but not exactly." I took a few
moments to explain about how there wasn't an exact English word for
it, and what the differences were. "It kind of sucks," I explained,
a single tear squeezing its way down my cheek despite my best
efforts. "I mean . . . we didn't want to, and Mom and Dad didn't
want for us to. But . . ."

"My dear heavens!" Linda the assistant hotel
manager—for by now I'd read her nametag—gushed, her face now
pale under her makeup.
"I
. . . I . . ."

"It is indeed an unpleasant situation," a
new voice interrupted as Mr. Li opened his door and stepped into
the hall between us. "But it is as it must be." He sighed and
looked at the floor. "Being on the losing side of a war has its
consequences."

She frowned, then looked back and forth
between my tutor and me. "It's absolutely horrible!"

Li nodded. "I can only agree. And yet . . ."
His eyes narrowed. "Things could be much worse, for each and every
one of us. While Robert here has done nothing wrong—he wasn't to my
knowledge instructed to keep this matter secret—there has been no
official announcement yet. For obvious reasons."

"Yes," she agreed, nodding vigorously. "Very
obvious! Now on top of everything else they're taking our children
as hostages!"

Li took a moment to swallow before replying.
"They mean it as a gesture of respect. The English word
'hostage,
'
as the boy
said, is an inaccurate and unfortunate representation of an alien
concept. He's to be educated and raised as one of their elite."

"How many more child-hostages will they be
taking?" she demanded next. "
All
of them?"

"I . . ." Mr Li shook his head. "You don't
understand, ma'am. It's not—"

"You're a damn collaborator, is all you
are!" the woman hissed. Then she spat in Mr. Li's face.

"Please," he tried again. "You must—"

But it was too late. By then she was well
past us, legs pumping and arms swinging, making for the main desk.
"Collaborator!" she cried again. "I
hate
you!"

"Mr. Li," I finally said, breaking the
awkward silence. "I—"

"Hush!" he said, raising a warning finger.
"You've not misbehaved, as I said. That's not at all the same,
however, as saying you've done nothing unwise." His brows lowered,
then he pursed his lips and nodded. "I must," he finally said,
clearly coming to some sort of decision but uncomfortable with the
answer. "I simply must." Then he looked at me and swung his room's
door wide open. "Come inside," he ordered. "Sit on my bed and wait.
I'll be with you in just a moment."

I did as instructed, not that I had much
choice. Li's hand now grasped mine, and while his grip was gentle I
could sense iron bands lying closely underneath the soft flesh. He
led me to the bed, which I sat on as instructed. Then, hesitating
one last time, he picked up the room's phone and dialed a number.
"This is Li," he said in his near-perfect Gonther. "Lord Rapput
said I might call upon him in the event of difficulties. I fear
that moment has come." There was a long silence, then Li explained
about Linda the hotel manager. "I don't believe the boy did
anything willfully wrong. He'd received no instructions not to
speak freely. But the consequences of a premature leak—"

"Yes, Li!" a voice chimed in so loudly that
I could make out its words halfway across the room. It was Rapput.
Or perhaps Uncle Rapput, I ought to be calling him now. "You
overheard every word?"

"Yes, my lord," Li answered, nodding even
though Rapput couldn't possibly see the gesture.

"You've acted rightly," Rapput decided after
a moment's hesitation of his own. "She shall be arrested
immediately and held until there’s a greater understanding between
our cultures on this delicate issue."

"Of course, my Lord," Li agreed.

"Yes," Rapput repeated. "You've done well
indeed, Mr. Li. Thank you."

"It's my pleasure to be of service," he
replied smoothly, sounding quite pleased with himself. As well he
ought to be from his point of view, I supposed; I'd never heard
Rapput thank anyone for anything until then! But that poor
woman—she might be jailed for
years.

Was it Rapput's fault? Li's? Or just maybe
mine?

"You might want to take a few minutes,"
Rapput continued, "to explain to my nephews that from this moment
until we're at least one Jump from this star that they're to speak
to no one outside the family without my personal permission."

"Of course, my lord!" Li replied. "I'll take
care of that immediately, even before examining the teaching
machines."

"Perfect," Rapput agreed. "And with that,
good night."

9

It was anything
but
a good night. Mr. Li
carefully explained to both Tim and I that we were to speak to no
one about anything. T
hen
he asked questions to make absolutely certain we both understood
fully. That all by itself was enough to creep us out. For the first
time I realized that we were about to be completely and totally
cut-off from practically the entire human race. Then we hit the
teaching machines for a little while.

Sure enough, the academic stuff was all way
below our level; math was math wherever one went in the universe,
after all. Mr. Li set aside the arithmetic classes for the moment,
promising he knew some tricks that'd have us thinking in base
twelve in no time flat, a system which the Artemu had for some
reason adopted despite having five fingers and four toes. It scared
me to death, base twelve did! I doubted I’d
ever
learn to do
such weird math!