Claiming Prologue: The first meeting of Ondry and Liam. (Patreon)

Chapter One

As he walked up the steps to the trading plaza, Liam spotted the huge trader already set up on the side of the plaza opposite the entrance. It was prime territory. Liam’s trade goods, sent from Earth, had been moved to a secondary table.

Liam had no idea if that was normal or not, but he had no intention of arguing with a nine-foot-tall alien. So he moved to his new spot and started arranging the copper pots and boxes so potential customers could see them.

Prarownt was nothing like Liam had expected. He’d been a kid in California when the first Earth ships had made contact with another alien species—the Anla. Early reports had made contact missions sound exciting and dangerous. By the time Liam had joined the war effort, humans had found the Rownt, and the early trickle of bootleg videos showing the oversized aliens and their odd looks and rural lifestyle had caught humanity’s attention. It was like finding out that dinosaur-turtle men were alive and living like the Amish. So when Liam had received his transfer to the linguistic division as a tech assigned to facilitate trading, he’d expected to explore an alien race. He’d wanted adventure and maybe he had a few fantasies about making some grand discovery about these reptilian aliens. Linguistics might not be the most exciting field, but he’d hoped to advance human knowledge or engage in debate.

Instead, the assignment included a lot of walking through wild fields and standing around trading tables waiting for someone to buy his goods. Rownt didn’t exactly engage in small talk, so Liam had no opportunity to make any grand revelations. It was boring—like the front, only without the intermittent periods of utter terror and imminent death.

Luckily, Liam liked boring.

Standing in the trading plaza, Liam could enjoy the songs of native birds and the rustling of leaves. One songbird kept repeating a complex set of whistles and chirps. Trellised pillars held up a wooden canopy that shaded the area. Vines climbed the latticework until the whole structure seemed almost alive. The other Rownt sharing the plaza with Liam had a table full of various pots and ceramics. He stood in front of his trading table with his tail wrapped around his leg and his eyes half closed. His skin had the soft purple hue Liam considered normal. He’d sometimes spot a darker Rownt, and on one occasion had seen an alien so pale it was nearly humanish in color, but the vast majority of Rownt had a fairly consistent color.

Liam leaned against the low wall that marked the edge of the trading plaza and pulled out his computer. He opened one of the midcourse grammar tutorials on sentence construction and started rereading the information. He’d passed his tests already or Command wouldn’t have approved his reassignment, but that didn’t mean Liam could actually speak the Rownt language. When Craig, the other trader, had first brought Liam to the square to introduce him to the first Grandmother who happened to pass by, Liam had stumbled through a few Rownt phrases. All his hard-won knowledge of Rownt language had evaporated under the stare of one of those enormous females. But Liam had never given up, and he wouldn’t back away from the challenge of speaking the Rownt language.

Hours passed. The sun slowly shifted in the sky so that a ray of light bisected Liam’s table. Liam loosened the top two buttons of his uniform as the heat started to build. Liam’s eyes nearly crossed as he, for the fourth time, studied the tritransitive structure of Rownt verbs. Verbs conjugated according to who performed an action, on whom the action was performed, the object involved, and the attitude intended by the doer. But no matter how much Liam cared about the proper conjugation of verbs, his attention span had a limit.

For a time, he tried pacing the trading plaza and watching the few Rownt who wandered this far from the center of town. However, every time Liam passed near the other trader, the Rownt watched. Liam had the feeling he was breaking some social taboo no one had explained. Craig had given him very little information on correct behavior, just issuing vague promises that the Rownt seemed fairly hard to offend.

Rather than risk finding a way to offend his hosts, Liam headed back to his table, picked up his computer, and started one of the technically against-the-regs games Craig had loaded. For a while, he amused himself with a simple matching game that required him to figure out codes on a security system before cops showed up to arrest his game character. Liam wondered what Rownt would think of the game, but he had no way to know.

Liam looked up when a new Rownt stepped into the plaza. He was smaller than most of the aliens, but he was still taller than the average human being. This new trader walked to the other side where the potter had set up.

He walked past the potter’s table, stopping several times to study pieces. Each time he silently returned the piece to its place, not shifting any toward the circle marked on the table that indicated goods to be traded. After the new Rownt examined or at least touched every single pot, he headed for Liam’s table.

The first time a Rownt had walked toward him, Liam had felt a cold and panicky sort of fear. They were huge. If a Rownt decided to lose his temper, he could break Liam into tiny, bloody pieces. However, in the time Liam had been coming to the trading plaza, he had never seen a Rownt show the least bit of emotion.

So the fear had faded into a softer sort of wariness. He kept track of the Rownt near him, but he had stopped expecting an attack. He also didn’t expect a trade. Three other Rownt had come and looked at Liam’s wares before buying pots. Liam had asked Lieutenant Spooner to request text goods, but Liam still had copper boxes on his table.

This new trader picked up the small text page Liam had set out. Formal trading precluded speaking, so Liam had typed a short explanation of the types of metals and the processes used to create the decoration. Every trader who came to the plaza gravitated to the text. They studied it so intently that Liam got the feeling they regretted leaving it behind. One trader had even put the page into the trading circle, but Liam had been so shocked he had failed to react, and the trader had left. The informational text definitely got more interest than the actual bowls.

This new trader headed for the corner of Liam’s table where a particularly large copper box stood, and his trajectory brought him uncomfortably close. Liam tried to stand his ground, but at the last second, he flinched back. His hip hit the table, and he blurted out a sharp, “Fuck” as copper tumbled to the tile floor.

Immediately he froze. Speaking in the trading plazas was forbidden—a cultural taboo. Liam held his breath, expecting one of the Rownt to grab him and rush him out of the space at any second. He would be disgraced. Command would send him back to the front to die. A thousand fears and thoughts clanged around in Liam’s head until he couldn’t think straight. It took him several minutes to realize the two Rownt only watched him with large eyes.

Taking their lack of action as a sort of forgiveness, Liam dropped to his knees and began to gather up the copper. He froze again as the new Rownt crouched down beside him and picked up a fallen box. He turned the piece over in his hand, examining the decorated top before he set it on the table.

Liam could only stare at the enormous hands. Rownt didn’t help each other, or that was what Command said anyway. Rownt were one-hundred-percent mercenary, which is why they had not technologically developed as fast as humans. They had solar panels and a power grid. And clearly they could refine metals since that was Liam’s main job—obtaining ship-grade metals. However, they were still largely agrarian, living in small villages surrounded by farms. Their lack of cooperation precluded them from forming larger cities or industrial centers, and if Liam believed Command, there was no reason for a Rownt to help him pick up his goods.

When the Rownt stood, Liam grabbed the last few copper bowls and scrambled to his feet. His nerves were frayed by this unexpected change in behavior, and he was almost vibrating with a need to do something. Ideally he would like to run all the way back to base and ask Lieutenant Spooner to explain this new behavior. However, Liam was not only a sergeant but a linguistic technician. He’d earned his promotion, and now he had to prove himself worthy or the military would be very happy to take his shiny new rank and kick him back to the front.

Indecision kept him standing beside his table until the Rownt pulled trading tokens out of a bag. He dropped five coins down on the table and watched Liam. Relief washed though Liam. He knew how to handle a trade.

Cautiously, Liam picked up each of the coins the trader left in the circle and used his computer to scan the image carved into the metal. Unlike human worlds, Rownt didn’t have the concept of currency, so each coin represented a specific trade good. Liam checked the database to make sure he understood what this trader offered before he decided how many brass containers to offer in return.

Three of the coins were for bitter berries. The support staff had threated to murder anyone who brought more berries back to base. The food shortages caused by the war meant that any food earned in trade had to be used. Lieutenant Spooner could send it to the trading square, but if it didn’t sell in a day or two, the food would be sent to the kitchen if it was edible. However, everyone on base agreed that bitter berries tasted so vile they’d rather starve. Liam was almost sure the soldiers had threatened and intimidated the support staff long before Corporal Smitty had pinned Liam into a corner and explained in vivid detail what he would do if Liam showed up with even one basket of the things.

Liam pushed the three coins out of the trading circle and back toward the trader to indicate his lack of interest. The potter made a strange hum, his voice quavering, but when Liam looked up, neither Rownt appeared to have any expression, so Liam couldn’t tell what that meant. He didn’t remember seeing any mention of trills or hums in the database of Rownt language either. This was getting stranger.

A quick check of the image on second coin, and the computer returned a description of a dry and almost tasteless nut that was full of protein. Liam put it in the trading spot and then turned his attention to the last coin. He recognized the markings although he double-checked the computer anyway.

Since Liam couldn’t speak in the trading square, he fingered the coin for ore as though reluctant to put it down. He was fairly sure this Rownt would understand his interest in that trade. So far, Liam hadn’t gotten any of the metals he was supposed to be trading for. Lieutenant Spooner assured him that Rownt were slow to trade with new partners and that it could be a number of months before he brought any ore. Command expected a difficult transition. However, it made Liam nervous every time Craig came back from a trade with a coin for ore. Liam kept waiting for Lieutenant Spooner or Commander Dorson to declare him unfit. Luckily Spooner was supportive, and Liam had never even seen Dorson after the commander greeted the new arrivals.

Liam put the ore marker in the trading spot and then pushed most of the copper off to one side, away from the trading circle. The potter made that strange vibrating hum again, and Liam feared he had made a mistake. Part of him wanted to push more copper back onto the table, but if this Rownt had ore markers, he could afford to give Liam more than one. Liam’s heart pounded and his mouth was so dry he couldn’t swallow. He wanted that ore marker. He needed to be able to prove to someone that he could do his job. However, he waited. Rownt valued patience. After a second, the potter retreated to the table with his wares, and then it was Liam and this one alien staring at each other over copper pots. It was surreal.

The trader studied Liam’s offering before putting out more food tokens and a marker with something that looked like a club. Liam checked his computer and found the food offering was a type of fruit. Unfortunately, no one had made notes on whether it was any good. As a soldier, Liam knew one hard and fast rule—do not piss off the people who controlled the food supply. Rather than risk bringing back bitter or sour fruit he pushed the tokens away. He couldn’t find the symbol for the clublike marker, and that alone made it interesting. Bringing back new information on the Rownt vocabulary had to be at least as valuable as ore. Liam kept it and pushed two copper bowls back into the trading space.

The Rownt trader added more nuts, and Liam added a large box but removed a smaller bowl. The trading continued that way for some time. Liam secured some fibrous root vegetables that the staff had reviewed positively, and when the Rownt added another ore marker, Liam couldn’t risk losing his first real victory. He was going to bring back two shares of ore and information on a new trade good that matched the club symbol on the unfamiliar token. Liam was almost lightheaded with emotion. Glee and relief and gratitude to this new trader all curled around each other until Liam wanted to throw his arms around the Rownt’s shoulder and hug the stuffing out of him.

And if he tried, the Rownt would probably gut him, so Liam contained his enthusiasm and flipped over the trading coin that rested at the edge of the table to indicate he accepted the trade.

Then the Rownt bowed. Liam had seen Rownt bow to each other, especially to the enormous Grandmothers who made up the ruling council, but none had ever offered him the courtesy. Liam carefully imitated the gesture, and the potter gave a third trill. This time the new Rownt trader raised his lip in an unmistakable snarl, and Liam froze. If these two fought, Liam was going to be the small breakable object in the middle.

Instead the new trader turned and headed out of the square.

Liam felt a little moment of panic. This was the first Rownt to trade him ore, and he had helped Liam pick up his fallen bowls. Liam didn’t want the trader to walk away forever. He followed the trader out, standing on the top step so he could almost see into the trader’s eyes.

“You purchased more than you can carry alone,” Liam said. Simple statements of fact were the safest form of communication. The training vids and Lieutenant Spooner had both pounded that into Liam’s head. Rownt and humans didn’t live in the same emotional landscape, so attempting to use any value statements or discuss thoughts or emotions would fail. Liam had no way of saying he wanted to trade with this Rownt again. He couldn’t speak of his appreciation for all the trader had offered him. He could only state the obvious.

“I shall return later,” the trader said.

“I would be happy to help carry them,” Liam said. Halfway through the statement he realized he had misplaced his predicate and probably sounded like an idiot, but hopefully the Rownt could figure out what he meant. Liam then hurried to add the one phrase he had practiced with Lieutenant Spooner so much that he could say it in his sleep. “I am Liam, trader of the human base.”

The Rownt gave a small and incomplete bow. “I am Ye-Ondry of the line of Chal, graduate of the Brarownt Academy and holder of a certificate of excellence from a Grandmother,” he introduced himself. Then he stared at Liam. The wind rustled through the trees, and the silence dragged on. This would be easier if Ye-Ondry would take the lead in conversation, especially since Liam rarely spoke other than simple greetings as he walked to and from the plaza. Sometimes he had to provide directions to the human base. Telling someone to walk two miles toward the peak of the distant mountain and then turn right on the path and crest a hill required less effort than small talk.

“I hope next time to force you into a trade that leaves you with no meal to eat,” Liam said. The phrase was straight out of one of the Rownt stories Craig had won in trade a few years ago. He still bragged about that trade, and Lieutenant Spooner spent most of his time analyzing the texts.

“I suspect I have already stolen your meat,” Ondry said. Liam was almost sure that was an insult aimed at the fact that Liam could have made a better deal. Liam grinned, careful to keep his teeth covered by his lips. He didn’t want Ye-Ondry to think he would snarl, not after the trader had been kind enough to verbally insult him. Rownt insulted people to show respect for them.

“I failed to trade that copper for twelve days now. I am not the one who lacks meat,” Liam said proudly. If Ye-Ondry would insult him, maybe Ondry would trade more ore.

Ye-Ondry’s expression shifted. His eyes narrowed and angled up a little, and the skin over his cheeks tightened. “Perhaps you do not know where to sell your goods. You stand in the rain and offer people water.”

Liam laughed. He knew it was culturally inappropriate, but relief and joy allowed the sound to slip out before he could stop it. Ondry respected him enough to pull out the big insults and trust Liam to have enough self-confidence to survive them. For so many years, people looked at Liam like he was a broken toy. And damn it, Liam deserved respect. He hadn’t expected an alien to offer that support though.

On the other hand, Liam honestly didn’t know if he’d made a bad trade. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. His agreement and self-insult clearly startled Ondry whose eyes grew large. “But tomorrow I will be trading root vegetables, and I won’t be sitting with copper I can’t sell,” Liam added.

Another silence descended on them, and they studied each other. Liam wasn’t sure where to take the conversation, and he was straining the limits of his Rownt vocabulary and syntax. After several minutes, Ondry looked over Liam’s shoulder toward the trading table. “Go get your containers, young one. Help me carry these to the warehouse.”

Liam grinned so widely he almost showed his teeth. To cover his lack of Rownt manners, Liam bowed deeply and hurried back inside to pack the copper Ondry had bought. He divided the goods into two boxes. Liam made sure one was light enough so he could carry it without struggling too much. The daily walk to and from the base had helped his legs acclimate to the heavier gravity, so hopefully he wouldn’t embarrass himself.

When Liam pushed the heavier box to the edge of the trading plaza, Ondry and the potter were speaking. Both fell silent and watched while Liam went back to get the smaller box. Liam wondered what they were saying to each other. For such large creatures, they could be very soft-spoken, so he couldn’t catch any of their conversation.

“Come,” Ondry said as he picked up the large box. “Elder,” he offered the potter, nodding at him before turning and heading into the center of town. Liam hurried after him. Technically Liam wasn’t supposed to stray outside the path that led from the base to the trading plaza, but Liam hoped any authorities they might meet would excuse him because he had an invitation.

They walked straight toward the temple, the center of the Rownt town. The tall tower rose several stories into the air, although it was hard to judge how many levels were inside. Rownt buildings tended to be very tall to accommodate the largest adults. Craig said he thought the females were larger than the males because all the truly enormous Rownt he’d seen were females. The first floor of the temple was open. Liam knew that from briefings. Formal meetings, including high-level negotiations between the officers and the Rownt ruling council, took place in the open air under the temple.

Plenty of people had speculated about what the Rownt might be hiding in the upper levels, but Liam wasn’t fool enough to ask. He was not the sort of idiot to kill the golden goose, and right now Ondry looked rather gooselike. So few of the Rownt were willing to engage in conversation that most of Command’s language files were incomplete. The first explorers to reach the planet had been given a simple primer on basic vocabulary and syntax, and after that the Rownt had appeared largely uninterested in improving communication.

Liam and Ye-Ondry were near the center of the town when Liam saw a huge building, far too large for a Rownt house. The building was made of stone, a rarity in the middle of the wooden houses. The roof appeared to be some sort of metal, and solar panels ran all along one side of the ridged peak.

Ondry went straight to the arched entry and headed into the shadowed interior. Feeling a little apprehensive, Liam followed. The second he crossed into the building, he could tell it was a warehouse. However, the goods were not organized using any logic he could recognize. There were clear piles, but each pile appeared to be a strange mishmash of unrelated goods.

Ondry moved down one of the isles to the left and placed his box next to several bags of nuts, an assortment of food goods, and the largest pile of pure ore that Liam had seen since arriving on the planet.

Liam was tempted to take out his computer and photograph the stockpile, but he didn’t know if that would be seen as particularly rude.

“You have good trading goods,” Liam said

Ondry looked at him with wide eyes but didn’t respond. Too late Liam realized that by complementing the Ondry, he had actually implied that the trader needed some sort of reassurance because he wasn’t strong enough to stand on his own. That was a rookie’s mistake. If Liam wanted to fix this, he needed to find an insult and he needed one quickly. The problem was he really couldn’t figure out what to insult.

“I hope to trade with you until you have nothing left to trade but dust,” Liam said, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush.

Ondry’s expression relaxed, and his face darkened. “It is more likely that you will add to my wealth.” He took the box from Liam and placed it on top of the one he had just put down. “Your people trade in vegetables,” he said.

Liam had no idea what that was supposed to mean, especially since Ondry had traded vegetables and nuts as part of their deal. Since he didn’t know what to say, Liam remained silent.

“Come.” Ondry walked back toward the exit, and Liam followed. However, Ondry didn’t head for the trading plaza the way Liam expected. Instead he moved south into an area of town that Liam didn’t know it all. Huge trees stood between the simple houses. Tall bushes and vines grew everywhere so that the walls were nearly invisible under the greenery, and the buildings stood farther apart. Apparently the Rownt had social ranks because this was definitely a nicer neighborhood. Liam reached into his messenger bag and triggered the recording on his computer. Hopefully he could get some good samples of Rownt conversation to make up for the fact that he was skirting the edges of regulation with this trip to an older, higher status part of town.

A few very small Rownt stopped and stared, and it took Liam a second to realize that these four and five-feet-tall aliens were children. They seemed to have some sort of mathematical game going with a grid traced in the dirt and colored rocks set on various intersections. Curiosity whispered for Liam to investigate, but if there was one truism in the world it was that you didn’t get near someone else’s kids. Ever. So Liam kept his gaze on Ye-Ondry.

He led them to a communal space. At first Liam thought that individuals might be barbequing in the Rownt equivalent of a park. Then Ondry led them to a table that sat beside a low divider that marked a cooking area. The woman in the cooking area was probably as young as Ondry. She had smooth skin where older Rownt tended to develop spots, and she couldn’t be more than six feet tall. Liam was taller than her. She looked at Ondry for a long time before he reached into his trading pouch and removed a token. He put it down, and she took it before Liam could see what Ondry had offered her.

That was when Liam realized Ondry had purchased lunch. This outdoor space was the Rownt equivalent of a restaurant. Liam waved an insect away as he wondered what Craig would think of this invitation. Craig had more experience and was the senior trader for the base, but he made no secret of the fact that he intensely disliked the Rownt. He carefully avoided the word hate, but words like terrifying, freakish, and ugly came out of his mouth on a regular basis.

Liam had to admit that Rownt had a little ugly going on. Their faces were proportioned like a turtle’s with wide-spread eyes and a small chin. Thank God they had a nose, or they would cross over into truly freakish land. Despite the lack of human beauty, Liam liked to look at the Rownt. They were slow and calm. Better yet, they weren’t going to use their looks to try to lead Liam around by the cock. That was for damn sure. So their lack of beauty was a comfort. Ondry was particular interesting. His flushes were much more pronounced than other Rownt, and the fact that he wasn’t too much taller than Liam helped. Some of the traders were ten or eleven feet tall, and Liam started feeling like a bug when he talked to them too long.

Despite his desperate attempts to think of some way to start a conversation, Liam could only sit in silence and stare at Ye-Ondry as the server prepared some sort of food. When the female finished, she put thick slices of meat and irregular loaves of flat bread with burnt edges on two plates. She added a relish of chopped vegetables, and presented the food to Liam and Ondry. Ondry took it without hesitation and bit into a piece of meat.

Liam looked at his plate helplessly. Rownt meat was safe for human consumption, but it was so tough he wouldn’t be able to chew it, and some of the plant life had alkaline or poisons that posed long-term health risks. True, most of it was safe, but when items were cooked all together, Liam didn’t know if all the ingredients were safe. He picked up the hard bread and ate a bit of the end that hadn’t gotten soaked in the juices from the stir-fry vegetable topping.

Ondry used the bread as a scoop to capture a heaping bite of the vegetables. After a couple of bites, Ondry put his food down and studied Liam. Even the server came over, and from the way they both watched Liam, Liam guessed he was offending the server by avoiding most of her food.

He tried to construct a factual sentence that put any blame on his own ignorance. “I don’t know this food is safe for humans who have more…” Liam stopped. He didn’t know how to say delicate or more easily damaged by certain chemicals. “Who have stomachs,” he finished, cringing at his poor construction.

The server looked at Ondry.

Ondry just stared at Liam. Maybe he didn’t know what to say in response to such blatant stupidity and inability to construct a logical thought. Either way, Liam was feeling more and more like he was in over his head. Finally the food server said something to Ondry so fast that Liam didn’t understand any of it.

Ondry spoke more slowly, but Liam still missed words. “He fears the food is…for his body.” Liam wasn’t sure what the missing word was, but incompatible or fatal or dangerous would all fit in there quite nicely. At least Liam got the sense that Ondry was trying to explain the problem.

The server blinked at Liam for several long minutes, and Liam tried hard to look inoffensive. He tried, but he had the feeling he already offended her by not eating her food. When she spoke, she spoke slowly and her accent was definitely different from Ondry’s.

“Food is safe…biology…my reputation.”

This time Liam was missing more words than he understood, but the server had managed to get her point across. So now Liam could trust her and believe her when she said the food was safe, or he could offend her horribly and get banned from the planet. Dying of alien food poisoning sounded more pleasant than going back to the front, so Liam used the bread to scoop up some of the stir-fry substance, imitating Ondry’s table manners.

The moment he bit into it, he started to choke. The sourness of it made his mouth water in protest and his lips pucker. Liam grabbed for a mug of water to wash it down it quickly. Life on the front had taught him to eat and appreciate some truly noxious food, but he’d never tasted anything this horrible. If he couldn’t swallow soon, he would have to spit it out. Luckily the vegetables were fairly soft, and Liam got the majority of it down. Then he ripped off some bread to take the taste out of his mouth.

When the tears cleared, he realized the server and Ye-Ondry both watched him with wide eyes.

“That food is…” Liam had to resort to English. “Sour,” he finished.

“Can you define that word?” Ondry asked. That was a very familiar phrase, one of those included in the first grammar primer the Rownt themselves had offered.

Liam thought about their earlier trade. “It tastes like the berries you tried to trade and I refused,” he said.

The server trilled, and Ondry lost a little of his dark color. Liam looked between them, alarmed that he might have offended someone.

The server spoke slowly. “Ye-Ondry would trade to human what no human wants.” It was clear she was simplifying her syntax and vocabulary the way one might for a child, and while that should be offensive, Liam appreciated the gesture.

“Ye-Ondry will make profits somewhere else,” Liam said, and then to make sure he wasn’t offending Ondry, he added, “but not from me.”

Ondry snorted. “You traded away temple wealth in return for the…of a meal,” he said.

Liam really wished he had a larger vocabulary because he suspected that had been a good insult. “I don’t trade food that makes my trading partner wish for hunger.”

Again the server trilled. She turned and moved the two steps into her cooking area. She quickly fixed another plate, this time with nuts and cheese. She put that next to Liam’s first plate. Liam picked up the cheese with some trepidation. When he took a small bite, he found the texture was slightly unpleasant. It had a rubbery, stringy consistency that got between his teeth, but it actually tasted quite good. It was like a nutty mozzarella. “I really like this,” he said.

That caused another flurry of too-fast-to-follow conversation between the food server and Ondry. Too late, Liam realized he had complimented another Rownt. At this rate they were going to kick him off the planet. Liam tried to find a way to make it clear that he had been making a statement of fact rather than complimenting her.

“Much Rownt food is unpleasant,” he said.

“Do all humans dislike gasha berries?” Ondry asked. Liam made a mental note of the Rownt name for the bitter berries. He was very glad he had thought to record this.

“Yes,” Liam said firmly. He could go on in great detail about how much the soldiers at the base disliked them, but he didn’t have the Rownt vocabulary. And he definitely didn’t want to explain that the kitchen staff had threatened to eviscerate him if he brought any back.

“Do humans like da nuts?” When Ondry asked that, the server leaned against the low wall that separated her cooking area from the single table where Liam and Ondry sat.

Liam recognized when he was being pumped for information, but building a relationship with the trader was more important than keeping secrets about which food humans found particularly disgusting. He also appreciated that when the Rownt used him for information, they didn’t hide the fact they were using him. “Humans do not dislike da nuts,” Liam said. Ondry leaned forward and widened his eyes, and Liam was beginning to think that meant Ondry had not understood a word of what Liam was saying. Liam tried again without using a double negative. “Some humans like da nuts. Some humans only eat them when they’re hungry. Humans would have to be very, very, very hungry to eat gasha berries.”

“I understand,” Ondry said.

Good, because Liam was fairly sure he was butchering the Rownt language, but he needed to record Ondry talking, not spend all his precious time showing off his own lack of proper grammar.

“Do Rownt like to eat gasha berries?” Liam asked, mimicking Ondry’s sentence from earlier.

“Yes,” Ondry said. Getting him to describe something—anything—was like pulling teeth. For a time, they were silent, and Liam pulled off small pieces of the rubbery cheese. Between that and the tough bread, Rownt food was hard on the teeth.

“I need food that is less liked,” Liam said. Again that caused a quick flurry of language between Ondry and the server. Liam could just imagine Lieutenant Spooner in spasms of linguistic joy over getting this much oral language recorded. Rownt were not talkative. The server turned back to her station and returned with a plate of something new. They were thin slices of some sort of fruit. The white flesh was still attached to a pink rind.

“These are not popular with Rownt,” Ondry said.

Liam picked one up and bit off a small piece. It still had that lemon flavor that seemed to permeate most Rownt fruit, but it was much sweeter, and it had the consistency of a slightly overripe apple. The graininess didn’t distract from it being just plain good. “I like this,” Liam said. He took a larger bite and then reached for more cheese. He’d had no idea that Rownt food could be actually good, but this was.

“Do you trade here often?” Liam asked Ondry. That sounded like a strange pickup line, but Ondry was the best trading partner Liam had found so far, and he didn’t want to lose him.

The server quickly turned away from the table, and Ondry pressed his lips together. While neither of those gestures was covered in the material Liam had studied, he had the feeling he had done something wrong.

“I am very new and young. I would appreciate elders who showed me what path to walk,” Liam said. He wasn’t sure that the metaphor of walking a path would translate, but he seemed to remember some of the storyscrolls containing similar language. It was the best he could do.

His words had some sort of impression because Ondry studied him carefully. Finally he said, “To discuss trading over food makes for bad…” Liam was guessing either digestion or business.

Liam ducked his head in a sort of truncated bow. “I apologize for my lack of manners,” he said. That was another phrase Spooner had made him memorize very carefully. “Humans often discuss their personal habits or their interests in order to introduce themselves. I meant only to offer introductions.”

“Who would you introduce?” Ondry asked.

“I would introduce…” Liam stopped as he realized he didn’t have a reflexive pronoun that he could use to finish his sentence. Grimacing at how he was mangling the language, he finished his thoughts. “I would introduce I.”

The server gave a trill. That was definitely laughter. Liam could only shrug. “I am young and new of language.”

“You are horrible with the language,” Ondry said plainly. “It is good you speak it. Other humans refuse to share more than public greetings.”

“By remaining silent they hide their badness,” Liam pointed out. Personally he was showing off his ignorance to a horrifying degree, but he was willing to look like a fool if it meant keeping a trading partner with access to ore. They were mutually using each other, and having that clear up front made Liam much more comfortable with the relationship.

“Badness must have a noun that it describes,” Ondry explained.

“They have badness with language,” Liam said. He studied Ondry to see if that sentence structure caused more humor or distress.

“The young are bad at many things,” Ondry said easily, the verb conjugation suggesting a neutral tone. This was a fact, not a value statement of judgment. “The wise try anyway so they can improve.”

Liam wasn’t sure, but he thought Ondry might have just complimented him. As much as Rownt custom dictated he be offended, Liam couldn’t contain his smile. “But to be young and bad at language is to risk offending others. I do not wish to offend anyone.”

“I do not find you offensive. When you meet a human, do you inquire about where they live or work or these personal habits you speak of?”

“Yes. When I introduce myself, I will give my rank—sergeant. That means I have skills in an area. In my case I am better with Rownt than most humans.” Liam recognized the irony in that statement, so he wasn’t surprised when the female pointed it out.

“Then most humans are very bad indeed,” she said.

Liam chose to ignore her insult since technically it was true. He told Ondry, “I would then tell people I was from Earth, the human home world.”

“And do humans have many worlds they live on other than their home world?”

This was approaching more dangerous territory. “Yes. Many.” Liam hoped Ondry didn’t push for more information in that direction since that was one of the areas Liam had been told to avoid. The Rownt appeared to be a largely nonthreatening species, but then the Anla had appeared rather harmless all the way up to the point where they kidnapped a ship full of children and then attempted to blackmail the government into turning over technology. That had not ended well for anyone.

“Why did you leave Earth to come here?” Ondry asked, using the singular, personal, second-person pronoun to express an interest in Liam in particular and not about why humans in general explored the galaxy.

And that took them straight into another of the forbidden subjects, a discussion of the war. The truth was that Liam had to study languages, or else he was going to end up dead. However, Liam needed to find an answer that was both truthful and inside regulations. “I had moved to a different planet, and I didn’t like it. Moving here seem to like a way to work productively,” he said. In every storyscroll he’d read, Rownt always had some sort of profession or trade, so he was hoping the idea of productive work would resonate with Ondry.

Silence filled the air, and Liam could hear only the murmurings of other Rownt at their tables and other food preparers. Liam quietly ate, and his patience paid off when Ondry said, “I often travel for my work. As a trader for the miners, I must go where there is a market for my clients.”

Liam smiled, and then he was back to struggling to try to come up with a subject for conversation. However, as Ondry focused on his huge plate of food, Liam slowly realized that he liked just sitting in silence. Ondry didn’t expect small talk, so Liam enjoyed the best meal he’d eaten in a long time. The rations on base were filling and clean, which was a large improvement over the front, but they were rarely good. The rare addition of fresh, local product usually meant the food would be sour or bitter. Liam hadn’t been on Prarownt long enough to have much personal experience, but he’d heard plenty of stories.

This fruit was good. And it was less popular with Rownt, which should mean it was cheaper. The problem with that was the Rownt now knew what humans liked, and that might drive the price up. It was a fair trade in information.

Ondry finished his meal and looked at Liam’s still mostly full plates. Rownt serving sizes were too large for human appetites.

“I have eaten so much my stomach…” Liam mimed the action of stretching.

Ondry gave one of his tight-face smiles and nodded. “Come,” he said before he stood and walked away. Liam hesitated a moment and then hurried after him. Ondry led them back to the plaza. Then with a brief, “Good trading to you,” Ye-Ondry turned and walked back the way he had come.

This had been a strange day, and the sun was low in the sky, so Liam hurried back toward base, his hand in his pocket so he could clutch the riches he was bringing back—a recorder full of new language samples and two tokens that promised the delivery of metals. It had been a great day.

Chapter Two

Liam had just crested the hill on his way back to base when he saw Craig and Gina walking toward him. The sun had almost set, so it made sense that someone had ordered Craig, the lead trader, and Gina, the head of security, to find their wayward sergeant. Liam just hoped his trade goods earned a little forgiveness because the sun had set faster than he’d expected, and now the oversized moon lit the landscape in shades of rust and gray.

“Munson, there you are.” Craig trotted up the hill with Gina walking behind more warily. Gina Venkatachalam was an infantry soldier and the head of their small security force, although Liam wasn’t sure how much she could secure when Rownt law forbade carrying weapons outside the base. “Where have you been?” Craig called.

“I got one of the Rownt to sit and have a conversation with me. I recorded the whole thing. Spooner is going to have a field day.”

Craig stopped right in front of him. “Holy shit, how did you do that?”

“I offered to help carry the trade goods back to his place.” Liam grinned at the shocked expression on Craig’s face. Gina looked a little less enthusiastic.

“His place? You went to one of the Rownt houses?” Craig asked breathlessly.

“No, he took the goods to a warehouse in the middle of town. It had a lot of different sections, and I think different people might have storage space there, like a rental space of some sort.” Liam started down the hill, and Gina stepped off the pass to allow him and Craig to go first, but her gaze stayed on the hill as though she expected a Rownt invasion force to follow. They were all war-weary and twitchy.

“Shit. You went into town, like to that large building in the center. Is that what you’re talking about?” Craig asked.

“Yeah. Have you been there?” Liam had to stomp on the hard pebble of disappointment in his heart at the evidence he hadn’t done anything special. Maybe dozens of traders had gone there.

“Hell no,” Craig blurted.

When Gina spoke, her accent was thicker than usual, so Liam guessed his long absence had upset her. She always developed a drawl when she was angry enough to threaten to shove someone in the incinerator and override the safety protocols. “We saw it on the first satellite feeds before the Rownt ordered us to ground them,” Gina said. “The security forces have studied the layout of town in case there’s some sort of incident. We saw that large building not far from the temple, and most of us assumed it was some sort of communal building or weapons depot.”

“Well, it’s not a weapons depot. I can tell you that,” Liam told her. “And I honestly don’t know whether it’s a communal building or whether someone owns it and they’re renting out space for storage. But that’s where I helped Ondry carry most of the brass copper bowls and boxes that he bought.” Liam was feeling high from the success, so when Gina grabbed his arm and yanked him around, he was too shocked to protest.

“Because this Rownt traded with you, you decided to wander away from secure areas and have a conversation with him? Does that strike you as a little dangerous?”

“Hey, Gina, rest the sublights,” Craig said soothingly, or at least in a tone he probably thought would calm her.

Gina tightened her grip on Liam’s arm. “I’m the head of security, and I won’t take you two treating this like it’s a walk in a fucking park. You’ll get yourselves and the rest of us killed.”

Liam jerked his arm back. “I’m on an alien world with Rownt that we barely understand. Command claims they managed this first contact well, and maybe they did, but they don’t actually understand Rownt. So I’m assuming all of this is horribly dangerous.” Liam gestured toward the night and the distant mountains and even the human base.

“Well at least you have some common sense. I was starting to wonder about it.” Gina backed up, but then she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Meaning?” Liam asked. He hated that all the pleasure from earlier had vanished under a river of new fears—apparently he’d fucked up royally.

“Meaning you don’t seem to understand how dangerous that was. We don’t understand the Rownt. What if they turn out to be like the Anla? What if it turns out there’s some class of Rownt that is horribly violent? What if they have some cultural rule that if you step over they execute you?” Gina’s voice rose, but then she took a breath and visibly calmed herself before she added, “I can’t protect you when you’re out there.”

“I don’t expect your protection.” Liam had traded away too much of his life already in return for others’ promises that they would protect him, and he wasn’t about to do that again. “I can take care of myself.”

“Against a Rownt? No, you can’t,” Gina said with a dark laugh. “Which is not a knock against you because I couldn’t either. Guns are the great equalizer, and you don’t have one.”

“And neither do you. So if you thought I was in so much danger, why are you out here walking around unarmed?”

Craig punched Liam in the arm. “Officially out of bounds,” he declared softly.

“Because it’s my job to keep everyone on base safe,” Gina said. “I’m the head of the security detail. And more than that, you’re almost not an asshole. You haven’t hit on me once.” Here she stopped to glare at Craig before turning her attention back to Liam. “And you haven’t questioned my ability to do my job. So that puts you one up from most of the people who transfer into my unit.”

Liam frowned. “Why would they question your ability to do your job?”

Gina pointed a finger in his direction. “That is why I like you. You seem to have missed the asshole gene. You listen to my accent, and you tell me why they question my right to lead the security detail.” Liam stared at her blankly for so long Craig answered for him.

“Because people are assholes?” Craig guessed. “Seriously, don’t worry about those dicks.”

Liam looked from one to the other, and then it occurred to him what they meant. “They distrust you because you’re from the outer colonies? But that doesn’t make any sense. If you were sympathetic to the outer colonies, you’d be out there fighting for them. The very fact that you’re here makes that argument stupid.”

“Yeah, well they seem to think I’m a spy.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “That’s twice as stupid. If you’re a spy and this is where you’re doing your spying, you are really pathetically bad at your job. That said, I don’t need babysitting. It’s my job to record as much Rownt language as I can. I saw an opportunity to get some Rownt conversation on tape.”

“Man, the officers may wet themselves over those recordings, but they do not pay either of us enough to stick our necks out,” Craig said. “Now if we’re all finished yelling at each other, can we get back to base? I got some new porn on the last blast from the soc-nets.”

Craig’s life revolved around social network downloads and illegal Rownt porn, and Liam was really not going to guess how he’d managed to video record that. Liam had experienced enough rough sex that he thought he’d seen everything. But Rownt sex was scary as hell, and that was before the monster penises showed up. “Yeah, let’s go,” he said, but Gina clearly wasn’t as ready to let Liam’s impromptu travel drop. She walked in the grasses on the side of the simple dirt trail, her voice low and intense when she spoke.

“What if your job gets you in trouble? Serious trouble?” she asked.

“I came straight off the front lines. I’d have to be in a whole lot of trouble before it approached the sort of shit I saw already.”

Gina sighed. “Fair enough. However, it’s not safe for you to walk around an alien planet unescorted and unarmed.”

“Rownt are not going to understand an escort. Adults stand on their own. If you run after me babysitting me, they’re going to assume I’m not old enough to handle my own business.” Liam didn’t mention that his own inability to consistently construct a valid sentence had probably sent much the same message, but that was okay. He had brought enough back from this trade that it might be months before Command started pushing for more.

“I know that. Trust me, I know that,” Gina said. “Craig has turned in at least two dozen requests for security escort, and Command has given him that exact answer every time.”

“I still say they’re wrong,” Craig said. “You’re female and taller than me. The Rownt would probably assume you were my Grandmother.”

Gina leaned around Liam to punch Craig in the arm hard enough that he stumbled off the path into the field.

“Hey! That’s abuse.”

“Keep it up, and I’ll really abuse you,” Gina threatened, and Craig fell silent. “You need to be prepared to take care of yourself.” She spoke in such a serious tone that Liam had trouble dismissing her fears. After what had happened with the Anla, clearly bad shit could explode out of nowhere. However, Liam’s gut told him the Rownt wouldn’t react violently, not that his gut was famously accurate.

Gina caught his arm and this time she pressed something into his hand.

“What is this?” Liam asked.

“What does it look like, a carrot?” Gina asked. Liam stared down at the small personal weapon. It was a standard projectile weapon, and just touching it while in Rownt territory broke a dozen laws.

“I can’t carry this on planet.” Liam tried to shove it back toward her.

“No, you can’t get caught carrying this on planet,” Gina corrected him. “But if something goes wrong, if something starts a major conflict, then defending yourself is more important than following some stupid regulation. If that ship with the children had used common sense instead of clinging to regulations the entire time they were being boarded with Anla, they wouldn’t have lost all those kids. Regulations are fine under normal circumstances. But regulations won’t save you. A gun might.”

“Why didn’t you ever offer me a gun?” Craig asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Because you’re savvy enough to value your own skin over the job. If Liam is going to take trading this seriously, then I have to take additional steps to ensure his safety. And if you tell anyone about this, I will perform a security override sweep on all computers and delete every piece of porn off the servers.”

“Whoa, hey!” Craig held up his hands in surrender. “No need for nuclear weapons. I wouldn’t report this even without the threats.”

“I don’t know about this,” Liam said as he tried to give the gun back. He failed.

“Then it’s a good thing that I do know. Look, I hope you never have to use it, but if something happens and you need a gun, it’s going to really suck if you don’t have one.” Gina grabbed Liam’s pants pocket and pulled it out to make an opening before she took the gun out of his hand and shoved it in his pocket. She wasn’t going to win any awards for subtlety.

“I doubt a gun this small would even take down a Rownt,” Liam said, and he wasn’t kidding. The big female leaders looked like they might require a tactical air strike to stop. He’d never before been so intimidated by old women.

“It will if you hit them in the right spot.” Gina’s voice didn’t have an ounce of compromise in the cold tones.

Liam sighed as he realized he’d lost this fight. “Which would be?”

“Males carry their genitalia on their back. I find that if you shoot a man in his penis, he generally stops whatever he’s doing. So that would be one target. It’s also a simple fact of biology that an eye and a mouth need direct access to internal organs to function correctly. Therefore, I don’t care what the species is, you shoot them in the mouth or in the eye, and they will be dead.”

That might be logical except for one problem. “Which requires a level of expertise I just don’t have with a gun,” Liam said. “On the front lines it was pretty much aim this really big-ass weapon in the general direction of the other side and keep pulling the trigger until the enemy stops running at you.”

Gina smiled as if she had just won the argument. “Then we’ll work together. I’ll teach you to shoot.”

“And how are you going to explain my sudden interest in shooting?” Liam asked. His goal with this assignment was to avoid attracting attention.

Craig laughed. “Every heterosexual man on this base has taken a sudden interest in learning how to shoot better. Gina’s the official trainer.”

“Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration. There are a few men who haven’t gone out of their way to randomly hang around me and make me feel horribly uncomfortable,” Gina said while glaring at Craig. “However that group of men is actually fairly small. So if you start hanging around on the gun range and asking me for tutoring with your gun, you’ll actually look more normal.”

“Tutoring with his gun?” Craig started walking backward toward the base. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Will you tutor me with my gun?”

“I may shoot you,” Gina said.

“I would actually prefer it if no one tutored me with my gun,” Liam said firmly. His sanity did not mix well with any sort of sexuality. Every time his dick got happy, he ended up ruining his life. If he wanted to build a good life, he had to get used to the idea of avoiding sex at all costs. Sure, he’d miss having a toe-curlingly good orgasm in the morning, but the price was always too high.

“I get that I’m not your type. The fact that you look at Craig’s ass more than mine makes your sexuality clear. So you and your gun can be happy in someone else’s bunk. However, I will be working with you at the range. If you’re going to take risks this big, either you’ll take the gun, or I’m gonna start doing security reports. You’re going to end up with timelines for check-ins and limitations on where you can go in the village. I’m the head of security, Munson. I can make you miserable.”

Liam sighed. “If you were a little bit less ethical and you had a penis, you would remind me of my ex-boyfriend.”

“You have questionable taste in men,” Gina said.

Liam started walking toward the base lights. “You have no idea.”

Chapter Three

Liam couldn’t control the flutter in his heart when he saw Ondry standing beside the trading plaza the next morning. Despite the fatigue that clung to him, he walked a little faster. He’d been up late debriefing. The conversation he’d recorded had caused such a stir that Commander Dorson had sat in on the interview.

Both Dorson and Spooner had vacillated between excitement and concern until Liam had explained that he was fairly sure Ye-Ondry was trying to get trading information out of him. The discussion of which foods humans liked had gone a long way toward proving Liam right, and the conclusion made sense given the Rownt mercenary nature. And apparently ye rank was fairly low. Spooner suggested that a ye rank suggested that Ondry was barely into adulthood. Of course a Rownt might stay in that rank for hundreds of years, but it meant he hadn’t earned much status. That reassured Dorson and Spooner. Ondry wasn’t some strategic manipulator—he was a young Rownt trying something new to get information. That fit into their understanding of Rownt. Liam didn’t say that he thought they were wrong. Ondry didn’t act like a young Rownt playing at being a trader. He had stood toe-to-toe with the much larger potter and had even showed his teeth, which was a serious threat. The potter had backed down, so Liam thought Ondry had some power, even if he was young.

Despite the fact that Liam had reassured both his officers that the meal had been one of mutual profits and attempts to gain an upper hand in trading, Liam still clung to a little hope that Ondry liked him. He had never singled out Craig or the trader who had transferred off planet. Liam couldn’t remember his name, but apparently he’d been on Prarownt for three years before finishing his officer training prep and getting accepted into a program.

So when Liam saw Ondry waiting beside the plaza, his heart raced. A part of him had feared his poor manners and worse grammar had driven the trader away. However, Ondry leaned against the trellis support and watched the road with the calm assurance that made most Rownt look constantly uninterested in anything. Liam appreciated their low-energy approach to life. They leaned and lumbered, and even when they blinked, they did it slowly. Liam wondered if they even knew how to run.

“Ye-Ondry,” Liam said, and he bowed.

“Liam, trader of the human base.” Ondry greeted him without a bow. Liam wondered if that was progress or if it indicated some sort of displeasure on Ondry’s part. Liam considered asking, but direct requests for information were rude in Rownt culture. Figuring he was doomed to live in curiosity, Liam headed for the trading square.

After climbing a few tall steps, he went to the table where his bowls and the last two copper boxes still stood. It amazed Liam that no one ever touched the merchandise, especially given that greed and profits seemed to be the Rownt’s primary motives in life, but then again that was an assumption based off of Command’s training materials. Liam was starting to question those, especially since some social or psychological mechanism had to exist to make stealing from the plaza taboo when unmarked and unclaimed goods elsewhere were fair game.

The potter had left his goods out, but he was nowhere to be seen, and an older female who towered over Liam had set up a third table with a variety of powders. If Liam had to guess, he’d go with either medicines or spices. Given what sort of food the Rownt liked, Liam had no interest in any spice.

When Liam turned around, he saw Ondry watching him. Today Liam had something a little different to offer. After the debrief, Spooner had pulled Liam aside and asked if he wanted to try to trade in texts. Command wouldn’t approve anything controversial, but Spooner had asked for some children’s books at one point. The other two traders hesitated, and he didn’t want to force the issue. Since Liam had already expressed an interest in text and since he had a trader who was willing to work with him, Spooner thought it might be the right time to try a different approach to trading.

So now Liam had the trade goods he wanted. He set the small book on oceanography in the front of the table and opened the cover to a random page. Then he retreated behind the table to watch Ondry’s reaction.

Ondry darkened considerably as he moved to the table. He ran a finger over the spine of the book and then carefully, with oversized fingers, turned a single page. This was little more than a children’s book with common information on sea creatures and lifecycles. When Ondry turned away to look at the pottery that had been left out on the other table, Liam thought he had misjudged the Rownt significantly. Maybe they had only feigned an interest in written texts.

Ondry spent a significant amount of time with the female trader. The two of them moved tokens back and forth in and out of the trading circle. Liam was surprised when, in the end, Ondry removed all his tokens without buying any of her merchandise. Instead Ondry returned to Liam’s table.

Ondry put three tokens for ore in the middle of the circle. Liam’s first instinct was to grab those tokens, to put the book in the circle, and flip the trading coin. Everyone back at base would congratulate him on trading a worthless book for three measures of good ore. However, the one person who wouldn’t congratulate him would be Ondry. To accept the first trade would be… It would be foolish. Liam didn’t care what the guys back at base thought, not if Ondry thought he was a fool.

Actually, since Ondry had heard Liam speak, he probably already knew Liam was a fool. That said, Liam didn’t want Ondry to get an even worse impression of him. So Liam stared right at Ondry, put the book to one side, and pushed all the copper pots into the trading circle. Then he gave a small smile and waited to see what happened.

Out of the corner of his eye, Liam could see the other Rownt shifting so she could watch the interaction. Ondry stood still for a long time, studying the table. Liam was starting to feel uncomfortable, but then Ondry reached into his bag of tokens and pulled out four more. After Ondry put them in the circle, Liam picked one up. It was an offer for the same fruit Liam had tried yesterday, the sweet lemon. However, that was not Liam’s first choice of trade goods. Besides, Ondry had said the food was less popular, so Ondry was offering him inferior goods.

Liam reached into his pocket and felt the smooth stone he had picked up on his way here. If he did this, he would definitely be insulting Ondry. More to the point, he would be insulting Ondry’s trade goods and suggesting they were worth nothing more than a rock. However, Liam couldn’t resist.

If Ondry considered Liam strong enough to insult, then Liam could offer the same compliment back. He was almost giddy at the thought of teasing Ondry, which was strange because he was also terrified of actually insulting him. Liam slipped the smooth stone out of his pocket and dropped it into the middle of the trading circle. He wouldn’t have had the nerve to do that with any other Rownt, and a half second after the stone landed, he could feel a raw sort of panic in his gut.

The female Rownt gave a trilling hum of laughter. Liam studied Ondry’s face, looking for any clue of disapproval, but the tightness of his cheeks looked more amused. Ondry left the markers he had offered but added another unit of ore.

Liam stared at the offer, his palms itching to grab it up and clutch it close. Four units of ore. That represented a damn treasure trove. Unsure of what to do, Liam shifted nervously. For a second, they stared at each other, and then Ondry offered a token for two more large baskets of the roots the kitchen liked.

Liam couldn’t resist. He removed the copper and put the book into the center of the trading area. He waited to see if Ondry would hold out for the copper dishes as well, and honestly Liam would be happy to get rid of them. Instead Ondry took a step back from the table, leaving his tokens in the center to show he accepted. Liam flipped over the trading coin to signal the end of trading. Four units of ore. His knees were weak, and he held onto the edge of the table.

Ondry turned his back and walked out of the square, silent as the rules of the plaza required. For a moment, Liam leaned against his table and fought the urge to run after Ondry. However, his struggle was short and doomed to fail. The copper could wait, especially since Liam now had four units of ore to bring back to base. He scooped up the tokens and then ran after Ondry.

Behind him, the female gave a loud and multipart huff, but Liam ignored her and headed out into the dappled sun of the shaded street.

“Ye-Ondry,” he called. When Ondry turned, Liam felt like an idiot for not having anything else to say.

Ondry opened with an insult: “Rushing the trade has cost you shares.”

Liam stopped. That hit a little close to home, but if he wanted to be a better trader, he had to be willing to listen to the one person giving him helpful feedback. “Good trades can lead to too much emotion,” he admitted, “but humans would call that trade more profitably.” Liam frowned. “More profiting. More profitable.” He used a couple of other adjective forms as he tried to figure out how to phrase that.

“Humans would call that trade more profitable because they trade in vegetables while the meat rots on the table,” Ondry said. Liam noted that he had provided Liam with the correct grammar while still insulting him.

Liam smiled. “If we spoke, I could explain what vegetables humans find profitable.”

Ondry’s eyes grew larger, and for a time he stood motionless. Liam fought to stay silent and wait for Ondry to say something. Eventually Ondry gave a nod. “Come,” he said before turning and walking down a path Liam hadn’t traveled before. Ondry might be using Liam, but he was so thoughtful about how he did it that Liam found he didn’t mind. They both benefited from the trades, and maybe, if Liam was lucky, their relationship might turn into something pretty interesting.