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Standard, with a pohte smile, "but I'm going to have to leam a lot more before
I can ask the right questions about your social situation here."
One of the other Noble Primitives muttered under his breath. Brannel turned on
him and hissed out a sharp phrase that needed no translation: even the sound
of it was insulting. Keff moved between them to defuse a potential argument,
and that made the other Primitive back off sharply. Keff got Brannel's
attention and pointed to the raydome water carrier. Listening to prompts from
the IT
program through his implant, he attempted to put together a whole sentence
ofpidgin Ozran.
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"What are that?" Keff asked. "Eh? Did I get that right?"
From Brannel's merry expression, he hadn't. He grinned, giving the local man
his most winsome smile.
"Well, teach me then, can you?"
Emboldened by Keffs friendly manner, the Noble
Primitive laughed, a harsh sound; more of a cackle than a guffaw.
"So," Keff asked, trying again in Ozran, "what are yes?"
He whispered an aside to Carialle. "I don't know even how to ask what's
right?' yet. I must sound like the most amaz-
ing idiot."
"What is that. What are those," Brannel said, with emphasis, picking up one
stone in one hand, a handful of stones in the other, and displaying first one
and then the other. He had correctly assumed Keff was trying to ask about
singular and plural forms and had demonstrated the difference. The others were
still staring dumbly, unable to understand what was going on. Keff was elated
by his success.
"Incredible. You may have found the only intelligent man on the planet,"
Carialle said, monitoring as the IT
program recorded the correct uses of the verb, and postu-
lated forms and suffixes for other verbs in its file, shuffling the
onomatopoeic transliterations down like cards. "Cer-
tainly the only one of this bunch who understands abstract questions."
"He's a find," Keff agreed. "A natural linguist. It could have taken me days
to elicit what he's offering freely and, I
might add, intelligently. It's going to take me more time to figure out that
sign language, but if anyone can put me on the right track, it's Brannel."
Having penetrated the mystery of verbal declension, Keff and Brannel sat down
together beside the fire and began a basic conversation.
"Do you see how he's trying to use my words, too?" Keff subvocalized to
Carialle.
Using informal signs and the growing lexicon in the IT
program, Keff asked Brannel about the below ground habitation, "... Heat from
. . . earth," Brannel said, patting the ground by his thigh. IT left audio
gaps where it lacked suf-
ficient glossary and grammar, but for Keff it was enough to tell him what he
wanted to know.
"A geothermal heating system. Its so cold out; why can't you enter now?" Keff
said, making a cave by arching his finger and thumb on the ground and walking
his other hand on two fingers toward it.
"Not," Brannel said firmly, with a deliberate sign of his left hand. The IT
struggled to translate. "Not cave day. We are ... work... day."
"Oh," Carialle said. "A cultural ban to keep the slackers out on the field
during working hours. Ask him if he knows what causes the power surges I'm
picking up."
Keff relayed the question. The others who were paying attention shot sulky
glances toward Brannel. The dun-colored male started to speak, then stopped
when an older female let out a whimper of fear. "Not," he said shortly.
"I guess he doesn't know," Keff said to Carialle. "You, sir," he said, going
over to address the eldest male, Alteis, who immediately cowered. "Where comes
strong heat from sky?" He pantomimed arcs overhead. "What makes strong heat?"
With a yell, one of the small boys-Keff thought it might be the same one who
had defied his mothers orders-traced a jagged line in the sky. The he dove
into his mothers lap for safety. An adolescent female, Nona, Keff thought her
name was, glanced up at him in terror, and quickly averted her eyes to the
ground. The others murmured among themselves, but no one looked or spoke.
"Lightning?" Keff asked Alteis softly. "What causes the lightning, sir?"
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The oldster with white-shot black fur studied his lips carefully as he spoke,
then turned for help to Brannel, who remained stoically silent. Keff repeated
his question. The old male nodded solemnly, as if considering an answer, but
then his gaze wandered off over Keffs head. When it returned to Keff, there
was a blankness in his eyes that showed he hadn't understood a thing, or had
already for-
gotten the question.
"He doesn't know," Keff said with a sigh. "Well, we're back to basics. Where
does the food go for storage?" he asked. He gestured at the stone square and
held up one of the roots
Brannel had used as an example. "Where roots go?"
Brannel shrugged and muttered something. "Not know," IT amplified and relayed.
"Roots go, food comes."
"A culture in which food preparation is a sacred mys-
tery?" Carialle said, with increasing interest. "Now, that's bizarre. If we
take that back to Xeno, we'll deserve a bonus."
"Aren't you curious? Didn't you ever try to find out?"
Keff asked Brannel.
"Not!" Brannel exclaimed. The bold villager seemed
nervous for almost the first time since Keff had arrived.
"One curious, all-" He brought his hands together in a thunderclap. "All...
all," he said, getting up and drawing a circle in the air around an adult
male, an adult female, and three children. He pantomimed beating the male, and
shoved the food bowls away from the female and children with his foot. Most of
the fur-faced humanoids shuddered and one of the children burst into tears.
"All punished for one person s curiosity? But why?" Keff demanded. "By whom?"
For answer Brannel aimed his three-fingered hand at the mountains, with a
scornful expression that plainly said that Keff should already know that. Keff
peered up at the distant heights.
"Huh?" Carialle said. "Did I miss something?"
"Punishment from the mountains? Is it a sacred tradi-
tion associated with the mountains?" Keff asked. "By his body language Brannel
holds whatever comes from there in healthy respect, but he doesn't like it."
'Typical of religions," Carialle sniffed. She focused her cameras on the
mountain peak in the direction Keff faced and zoomed in for a closer look.
"Say, there are structures up there, Keff. They're blended in so well I didn't
detect them on initial sweep. What are they? Temples? Shrines?
Who built them?"
Keff pointed, and turned to Brannel.
"What are . . . ?" he began. His question was abruptly interrupted when a beam
of hot light shot from the peak of the tallest mountain in the range to strike
directly at Keffs feet. Hot light engulfed him. "Wha--?" he mouthed. His hand
dropped to his side, slamming into his leg with the force of a wrecking ball.
The air turned fiery in his throat, drying his mouth and turning his tongue to
leather. Hum-
ming filled his ears. The image of Brannel's face, agape, swam before his
eyes, faded to a black shadow on his reti-
nas, then flew upward into a cloudless sly blacker than space.
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