Hellspark by Janet Kagan Read Free Book Online Page B

Tocohl went on, “let’s talk business and be done with it so I can get back to celebrating.”
    “Your business is with Alfvaen,” said Nevelen Darragh.
    Tocohl crossed her ankles, seated herself beside Tinling Alfvaen, and said in Siveyn, “Were you aware, Alfvaen, that you’d called for a judgment against me?”
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    Alfvaen, startled, splayed a hand at her throat. “I have no quarrel with you, Tocohl.”
    “Nor I with you,” said Tocohl. “Someone”—two quick thrusts of an elbow indicated a choice of
    Geremy Kantyka or Darragh—“owes us both an explanation.”
    It was Judge Darragh who spoke. “Tinling Alfvaen came to the Festival of Ste. Veschke to find a glossi. As Geremy explained, the judgment was a way to contact you, nothing more.”
    Maggy made a pinging noise. Tocohl held up a hand and said, (Yes, Maggy?) (The judgment has been cancelled. There’s a formal statement. Do you want to hear it?) (Not necessary,) said Tocohl; aloud, she said to Alfvaen, “All right. I’m here. What is it you want of me?”
    “You’re a polyglot?” Alfvaen asked.
    “Glossi,” Geremy corrected, “—from an old, old word meaning ‘speaker of tongues.’ There’s some evidence that an espability is involved, and if it is, Tocohl’s got it.”
    “Your pardon, Tocohl,” said Alfvaen. “You are a glossi?”
    “Yes, although Geremy exaggerates. As far as I know, I have a good ear and a good eye, not an espability.”
    Alfvaen looked at her intently, then said, “You were tricked into coming to meet me. I apologize and
    I will fulfill any ritual you think just.”
    Tocohl gave a reassuring smile. “It was only a theft at festival, as the Sheveschkemen say, and
    Geremy’s theft at that.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Geremy flinch quite satisfactorily. To
    Alfvaen, she added, “You gave no offense, I take none.”
    “Then please hear me out.” Alfvaen leaned forward.
    “I’m listening,” said Tocohl, surprised by the small woman’s sudden urgency.
    “When I was with Multi-Galactic Enterprises,” Alfvaen began, “I spent a good many years working with swift-Kalat twis Jalakat of Jenje—perhaps you’ve heard of him?”
    “Yes—considered by some to be the best survey ethologist in the business, considered by most to be ‘crazy as a Hellspark.’ Go on.”
    Tinling Alfvaen did. “Swift-Kalat is three years into the survey of a world named Lassti. He has reason to believe that the planet has a sentient life-form and should be declared off-limits to exploitation and colonization. The problem is that the survey team’s polyglot—I don’t think I’d call him a glossi, Geremy—hasn’t been able to make sense of the language.”
    “After three years?” said Tocohl. “That odd. So MGE wants to hire a glossi?”
    is
    “No,” said Alfvaen, “swift-Kalat does. He’ll pay your fee.”
    Maggy made a querying noise.
    “Let me think a moment,” Tocohl said, and explained to Maggy, (It’s not illegal for him to hire outside talent, especially not with a byworld judge involved, but MGE certainly won’t like it!)
    (Do we care?) Maggy asked, using tight-we
    .
    (No, not about MGE’s likes and dislikes. But MGE has a good deal of power on some of the worlds we trade on, and they could make our lives considerably more difficult. Suppose we do prove sentience—then MGE has wasted three or more years of a survey team’s time without any return; and that they’d like even less!)
    (So the system works against proving sentience?)
    (In a way, yes. You can’t prove sentience without proving a species has a language, but the MGE
    polyglots are damn good, usually, and regulation is strict. For the most part, I’d say it’s Page 22

    honest—though you could probably quote me chapter and verse on honest mistakes that have destroyed cultures.)
    (Should I?)
    (Skip it. I can think of a couple of nasty examples myself. Maybe we should take this job.) (Maybe?) said Maggy.
    Tocohl smiled.