Swords and Saddles by Jack Campbell Read Free Book Online Page B

settled down again, the civilian adults once again all in the front room. “It’s hard being in there with the kids,” Juni complained. “They keep asking what’s happening, when they’re going home, can they talk to their parents. We told them to play and stay quiet.”
    “It’s going to be a long afternoon,” Singh observed. “Tell us something about the Izkop,” he asked the civilian researchers.
    Scorse grimaced. “I’m a planetary geologist. I never cared about them.”
    Juni shrugged. “I’m a planetary ecologist. I don’t study one species, I study the whole system. I received my doctorate at Old Harvard under Professor Haddleton, you know. I know how everything contributes to the whole.”
    “Wow,” Adowa commented in a non-committal tone.
    That left Ariana, who gave Scorse and Juni cross looks before speaking. “I’m not an expert on them. I study mythic structures.”
    “That probably makes you the biggest living expert,” Burgos grumbled.
    Ariana winced as Singh and Johansen both pinned Burgos with glares. “That’s true. What do you want to know about the Izkop?”
    “We know they’re farmers and herders. That was in the predrop brief.” Singh gestured outward. “Tell us something about how they think. You said something about heroes before. Meeting death with smiles. What kind of heroes have the Izkop got?”
    Ariana hesitated. “There’s one hero they call the pass-holder. Their greatest hero. I call him Horatio, after an ancient human hero who held a bridge. The Izkop Horatio held a pass against demons who were trying to wipe out the ancestors of the Izkop. He died holding the pass. I haven’t been able to figure out whether they revere him for saving their ancestors, or for dying while holding the pass. I have a feeling their admiration has at least partly to do with the fact that he died, and would be the same even if he hadn’t succeeded. I mean, presumably there wouldn’t be any Izkop if he’d failed, but what mattered was that he died. Or was willing to die. I think.”
    “Hmmm.” Singh blew out a long breath, his eyes still on the outside. “This Horatio was one of the founders of their race?”
    “No. He was something separate. That mattered, too. He wasn’t of them but he died saving them. Does that make sense?”
    “It does to me,” Goldera commented. “The whole Jesus thing, right?”
    “Well, yes, but Horatio wasn’t the son of their God. The Izkop don’t have one God. They have many gods, and each of those gods is many things. The theology is incredibly complex,” Ariana continued, warming to her talk. “Each god can look like anybody or anything. Disguise, concealment, is very big in the Izkop myths and legends. Disguised gods and demons are everywhere, either looking for Izkop to reward for their deeds or trying to corrupt the Izkop with temptations.”
    “Like the Prometheus guy you told me about?” Johansen said.
    “Prometheus.” Ariana shook her head. “He’s very hard to figure out. I use the name Prometheus for him because he steals the gifts of the gods and tries to give them to the Izkop, like ancient Greek myths say the Titan Prometheus stole fire from the gods and gave it to humans.”
    “What did the other gods do to Prometheus for stealing their secrets?” Johansen asked. “In the Greek myths didn’t Prometheus get chained to a mountain?”
    “Yes!” Ariana gave Johansen a happy look, clearly pleased to have found a kindred spirit. “He was chained to a mountain and a vulture ate his liver every day. Since he was immortal the liver regrew every night. But the Izkop Prometheus, if I understand it right, hasn’t been punished because the gods can’t catch him.”
    “Because he can look like anybody and anything?” Goldera asked.
    “Exactly, only Prometheus, and the other gods and demons, aren’t really ‘he.’ Each one is ‘they’ because they’re simultaneously different sexes and no sex.”
    Goldera squinted at her