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Splennwa. Ertwa were very long ago."
The little girl studied them. "Splennwa?" she said, cocking her head
critically. " I
think not. They are abroad unprotected in the heat of day."
Varlik would have contributed to the conversation but could think of nothing
to say in the face of such seeming precocity. Then the children turned and
trotted tough-footed to a nearby yard, saving him from the risk of saying
something inane.
A little farther on was a small building, smaller than the residences, with a
sign that read "cool drinks." On the roof was a solar converter, the first
they'd encountered here except for the large battery of them at the hospital.
Varlik paused. They'd walked half a mile or more by then, his longest walk
since
Birdland, and while he felt no pain, his legs were tiring in the T'swa
gravity. It might be best, he thought, to take it easy.
"Shall we?" he asked, beckoning.
"I like the sign," Konni answered, wiping away sweat. "Especially the first
word:
cool."
Within the thick, insulating adobe walls it was some fifteen or twenty degrees
cooler, and they closed the door behind them, shutting out the heat. The room
was lit only by daylight, through three windows that penetrated the thick
south wall.
They stood for a minute, looking around while their eyes adjusted from the
outside glare. Even then it seemed dim, reminding Varlik of the T'swa's
catlike vision.
There were only two others present: a waitress-the slenderest T'swi they'd
seen-
and a man in a loose white shirt who sat alone with a drink, watching them
interestedly. Konni and Varlik sat down by a window; the waitress was already
coming over.
"What you would like?" Her voice was quiet, her school-Standard rusty, her
manner poised.
"What do you have?" Varlik asked in Tyspi.
She recited a list, most of which meant nothing to either of them.
"We are not familiar with those," Konni said. "Bring us what you yourself like
best. I'm sure we'll like it, too. "
They did, even though "cool," in Tyss, was not "cold," as they'd expected. It
seemed to be a fruit punch; rather thin and nonalcoholic. The glasses were
about pint-size, and after sipping briefly, the two Iryalans carried them
around the room, looking at the numerous pictures hung on the walls. The
waitress, as if knowing the deficiencies of their twilight vision, turned on
an electric ceiling lamp that added moderately to the light.
The walls were paneled with boards, varnished and burnished, and the paintings
and drawings excellent. They seemed to be by numerous artists, and varied from
landscapes to portraits, from work scenes to archaic battles, from families to
children sitting in a circle on a nightbound hill. Most of the subjects seemed
T'swa, but some clearly were not. The styles included realism and
impressionism-
the styles accepted in the Confederation-and several others, including one
that particularly took Varlik's fancy: landscapes done seemingly in ink, with
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an economy of brush strokes, suggestive rather than explicit. Konni's camera
and his own were busy.
The voice of the other customer interrupted them in easy Standard from half
across the room. "My name is Ban-Shum," he said. "If you have questions, I
would be happy to answer as far as I can."
So they sat with him, asking questions about the art and the city. The
paintings were not by a number of artists at all, but by the proprietress and
her husband, each having mastered a variety of techniques. No, there was no
particular market for art here; there were many fine artists, most painting
for pleasure.
Ban-Shum was a teacher, a teaching brother of the Order of Dys Jilgar, .and he
would enjoy being their guide to Oldu Tez-Boag. This was a holiday for the
children-there were numerous school holidays. He took the two Iryalans to his
nearby home, where he harnessed his ilkan and hitched it to a buggy, to take
the two Iryalans around. The ilkan was an indigenous species-all T'swa
livestock were, he said-an ungulate with long legs, long erect ears, and
short, soft, molelike fur.
They saw and recorded the small school at which Ban-Shum taught; visited the
wharves, some with barges, river boats, and small seagoing steamers tied to
them, and others for fishing boats; racks where fish, split lengthwise, dried
in the sun;
the water-treatment plant. They saw people at work-mostly men but also
numerous young women with no children yet to care for, and older women whose
children had grown up. There were shops and markets where produce was sold,
and others with meat or dairy products. Much was primitive, but where
refrigeration was needed, there it was, powered by solar converters.
By the time they felt they'd seen and recorded enough, Konni was enervated
from the 120° heat. Ban-Shum took them back to the place they'd met him, where
they talked quietly over cool drinks again. This time the drinks were a light
and fruity wine.
"So we have regiments on Orlantha," Ban-Shum said. "Interesting." Then he
added something in what was definitely not Standard but didn't seem to be
Tyspi either.
"I'm afraid I didn't understand that," Varlik said.
"It is Orlanthan. One of the principal dialects."
"Orlanthan?!" Varlik was startled-almost shocked. "How did you learn
Orlanthan?"
"A T'swa regiment was on Orlantha more than two hundred and fifty standard
years ago, to help put down a revolt by tribes from which mine slaves had been
conscripted. It was there for two years, and each company had two Orlanthan
scout/interpreters assigned to it. Naturally, T'swa being T'swa, some of the
warriors learned the language and brought it home with them.
"Since then it has been of interest to some of us because, besides Tyspi, it
is the only language in this sector entirely distinct from Standard. Even the
other resource worlds have languages at least recognizably similar to yours." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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