Шарон Ли - Agent of Change

"This human person," Edger said. "What was the name?"

"Herbert Alan Costello," Ing said, wondering.

"Ah. And the condition of Herbert Alan Costello? It seems that I have heard it dangerous for humans to experience the state called 'shock.'"

The old gentleman was really concerned, Ing thought. He hadn't expected that, considering the kid's attitude.

"I have recently spoken with the doctor, who assures me that the fingers will be able to be replaced and that function should return, perhaps wholly, but certainly to the ninetieth percentage. It was most fortunate that we were able to recover the fingers in such excellent condition."

"Most fortunate, indeed," Edger agreed. "You spoke of punishment. It is the custom of our Clan to mete punishment to members of the Clan. It would shame me to have it said that I am so lacking in propriety that I allowed a kinsman of mine to be corrected by one of another Clan, no matter how shamefully he had behaved. It would mean much to me, were you to honor this custom. I assure you that this person will be punished in full measure for his crime."

"It would also mean much to me," he went on, "if you would ascertain the sum of Herbert Alan Costello's medical expenses, as well as the cost of maintaining his household while he is unable to pursue his rightful occupation. I will pay this sum to Herbert Alan Costello, and also whatever blood-price is appropriate. I depend upon your advice in the matter, since I cannot presume to place a price on such damage to a human, who may not regenerate what he has lost. I would do everything that is proper, so that this disgrace does not mar the goodwill that exists between the Clutch and the Clans of Men."

Ing blinked. "You are very generous," he began.

Edger waved a large hand. "I am mortified that one of my Clan should have acted in such a manner. I repeat that he will not go unpunished. He is young and without experience, it is true, but there is no excuse for the lack of courtesy that you have brought to my attention. It is mine to rectify, and to hope that Herbert Alan Costello regains the full use of his hand."

Edger shifted his gaze upward and back, his large eyes hardening. Ing felt a moment's sympathy for the kid behind him.

"I am also ashamed," Edger said, speaking to Ing, though his eyes were on Watcher, "that you have somehow been led to believe that my kinsman does not speak Trade. His knowledge of that language is adequate. It is beyond my comprehension that he would not have spoken when addressed in that tongue and thereby made an accounting of himself to an Elder-in-Charge."

Ing would have sworn that Watcher cringed.

"Maybe," he offered, "your kinsman was also in shock of some kind. The condition does sometimes rob persons of language for a time, even the tongue they have spoken since birth." Hell, it was only a kid.

"You are kind," Edger said with awesome dignity. "I take note of your effort to soften the blow to our honor, but I am not persuaded that this was the case.

"Watcher!" he snapped, still in Trade. "You will come to me. You will come with whatever person or persons Xavier Ponstella Ing deems proper to send with you, so he might be assured that you will damage no other beings before you are under my eyes. You will come in whatever haste or deliberateness Elder Ing adjudges proper. Above all, you will speak when spoken to, and answer all questions honorably and in the best fullness that time allows. You will think upon the uses of courtesy among and between all peoples, and you will have an accounting of yourself and your actions to lay before me when you arrive. Have you understood all that I have said to you?"

"Yes, T'carais." Watcher's voice was barely audible.

"And will you obey?"

"Yes, T'carais," Watcher replied even more softly.

"I leave you then to the care of Elder Xavier Ponstella Ing, to remove you to me within his own customs and traditions. Goodbye." This last had apparently been meant for both. The screen went suddenly dark.

The kid looked decidedly shaken, Ing thought. "Okay, Watcher, why don't you have a seat while I arrange transportation? We'll have you on-world within the next day."

No matter what other punishment awaited him should he show further lack of courtesy, Watcher could not bring himself to thank Elder Ing for this consideration of him.

* * *

EDGER CERTAINLY HAD an amazing number of books, even granting that fewer than a third were written in a language that Miri could read. A brief search among those produced The Young Person's Book of Space Drives, by Professor Thos. Swift, and A Beginner's Course in High Liaden, by Anne Davis.

Anne Davis? The name was vaguely familiar. Miri scouted up a reader, curled up comfortably on the upholstered ledge that seemed to be the Clutch's answer to overstuffed chairs, and fed that tape in first.

"Anne Davis," the bio at the beginning told her, "was a Heidelberg Fellow and respected comparative linguist. Her work included compilations and cross-checks of the major Terran dialects, and is considered a touchstone of contemporary linguistic research. However, she is best known for her in-depth study of High Liaden, as well as the several grammars and self-paced study texts of this complex and beautiful language. A manuscript outlining the grammar and following the structural shifts of Low Liaden was left uncompleted at the time of her death. She is survived by three natural children: Shan, Nova, and Anthora yos'Galan; and a fosterchild: Val Con yos'Phelium."

Miri blinked, remembering his story of the aunt who had taught him to play the 'chora. Just your luck, Robertson, she thought. Leave off wondering who he really is and up pops verification.

She rewound the book and set it aside for later study, then fed the other into the reader, arranging herself more comfortably against the ledge and manipulating the forward control.

"There are four kinds of space drives in use in the known Galaxy at the present time," Chapter One informed her cheerily. "The three best known are the Terran, or Congruency Flaw Drive; the Liaden, or Quark Retraction Drive; and the Clutch, or Electron Substitution Drive. The fourth kind of drive is that used by the Yxtrang, but no one has yet been able to discover exactly what kind of drive it is."

"Bloody guess not," she commented. Yxtrang never let a ship fall to capture, instead destroying full battle crews if necessary. A few ships had, nonetheless, been taken—mostly by the sneaky Liadens who, to be fair, had been trying longer. Those captured ships had destroyed themselves when entry was forced, taking the boarding parties with them. The best thing about Yxtrang ships was that there weren't many of them. The worst thing was that there were any at all.

"Terran and Liaden ships," the text continued, "make use of a mathematical probability called the Similarity Constant, which allows ships to cover great distances very quickly. Since Terran and Liaden mathematicians envision this concept in slightly different ways, the Congruency Flow and the Quark Retraction Drives are not exactly equal in terms of the time it takes vessels to cover a given distance.

"For instance, a Terran cargo ship might traverse 50 light-years within 50 seconds. The same journey might take a Liaden freighter 50 hours. This comparison, of course, is for ordinary purposes of calculation.

"It has been reported that Liadens possess some vessels at the one-and two-man size which, though not necessarily faster than Terran ships, are able to perform close-in maneuvers that allow them a head start on a vessel that must put several light-hours between itself and the nearest planetary body before commencing the Congruency maneuver."

Yeah, so Liaden Scout ships are fast and do tricks and you're jealous, Miri thought. What about Clutch ships?