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listen to comparisons of what both the Commonwealth and the Empire had to
offer. And they absolutely, uncategorically, refused to agree to anything.
It wasn't long before Pulickel came to the conclusion that many, if not all,
of the natives he had established a personal relationship with listened to him
purely out of courtesy, and that they had no intention of giving serious
consideration to the proposals he so carefully presented. Just as
Fawn had warned him, they wanted nothing to do with the benefits being
proffered either by the
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Commonwealth or the Empire.
One morning he confessed as much as they walked the mountainside southwest of
the village, continuing their study of the extraordinary gardens of
Torrelauapa. Middle and small persons worked the terraces while youngsters,
their antics patiently tolerated by the busy adults, bounded and chased one
another through the lush growth and elaborate arbors. Damp earth squished
beneath the xenologists' field sandals and they had to duck repeatedly to
avoid bumping into the intricate, decorative trelliswork.
"Now you know," Fawn was telling him, "why from time to time I've been less
than fanatical about my work here. If the Parramati ever agree to a formal
treaty with the Commonwealth, it's not going to happen in a sudden burst of
enthusiasm. It's going to be the result of a long, tedious grind."
Pulickel stepped carefully over something that looked like a meter-long yellow
squash. "I'm sorry, Fawn, but I can't accept that. I'm not the long, tedious
grind kind of person."
"You don't say." She started up a line of stone steps. "I never would've
guessed. Listen to me:
like it or not, you'd better resign yourself to the idea. Impatience here will
only result in greater and greater frustration. No matter how clever or
persistent you are, you can't rush the
Parramati."
He followed her with his eyes. "The longest it's ever taken me to resolve a
xenoiogical impasse was three months. It's a record I'm quite proud of, and I
do not intend on losing it here."
Idly waving at something small and fast that persisted in hovering in front of
her face, she looked back over a shoulder at him. "I'd like to think you're
right. Unfortunately, experience tells me otherwise. And, there's the big
person I wanted you to meet."
Their climb had taken them to the topmost terraces and both of them were
breathing a little harder in the thick, humid air. "What is she," he asked as
he caught sight of the alien in question and was able to sex it, "a hermit?"
"No. Ascela and her relations just prefer to live up here. Think of it as a
one-family suburb."
Approaching, Fawn lowered her head toward the earth. Several of the younger
seni in the vicinity responded with neatly tucked forward flips. When Pulickel
duplicated their efforts, as he was now known to do, their delight was joyous
to behold. The senior Parramati the xenologists had come to meet yipped
appreciatively.
"I had heard that you could do the greeting, friend Pu'il." Lips rippled
eloquently.
He studied the mature female. She appeared to be approaching late middle age,
though it was hard to be sure. The species did not manifest many outward
indications of advancing years until they were quite elderly, but he was
gradually learning to recognize the subtle indicators. Sloe was a little less
erect, a shade less bouncy on her hind legs than most of her brethren.
"It is pleasing to meet you." He extended both hands palm upward. Three long,
smooth fingers did their best to cover four of his own, ignoring the thumb.
The seni found that extra afterthought of a digit quite amusing.
Finger-out-of-place, they called it in their own language.
Fawn was speaking. "I have brought my friend Pulickel to talk with you because
he wishes to learn about roads and about stones."
"I am not surprised." The senior Parramati withdrew her hands. "It is said
that you have no stones of your own and must use other things instead."
"This is true." In terranglo she told Pulickel, "I've tried to explain to
these people what a computer is and what it does. It's not a concept that
translates well to a culture with low-end technology."
"How did you finally do it?"
"Told them they were like flat stones that were connected by roads through the
air. That's pretty
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