Nimisha's Ship
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Nimisha's Ship». Краткое содержание книги:
When Nimisha takes an experimental ship on a solo test flight, something goes horribly awry, marooning her light-years from home on a planet as deadly as it is beautiful. Now the ruthless members of a rival branch of the Rondymense family are given the chance they've been waiting for: to reclaim the Ship Yards by any means necessary.
Only Nimisha's ingenious child, Cuiva, stands in their way. But for how long? For just when her daughter needs her most, Nimisha is in a precarious situation herself--and unable to help. But Nimisha has never given up in her life--and she's not about to start now . . .
Ay made the selection itself and indicated that it would like to do the serving. Timmy shrugged and gestured for him to proceed.
Bee produced more cups and filled them with the fruit juice. It used the largest plate to convey the cups to the adults, following after Ay.
"It is tasty," Nirnisha said.
"Tim's right about having had it," Syrona said, "but it's not in season right now. So where did they get it from?"
"Curiouser and curiouser," Nimisha said.
"Weapons, pottery, food preservation technique," Casper said, grinning. "And smart."
"Now, if we can only figure out how to exchange-" Jon stopped as the two very gray aliens came forward, bowing not quite as deeply as Ay and Bee did.
Jon rose carefully and bowed at the same angle. Casper, Syrona, and Nimisha followed his example.
Ay and Bee stepped back, out of the way, as if they had done their part in introducing one species to the other. Two others came out of the crowd, carrying stools similar to the ones provided for the humans. When the legs of these were firmly pushed into the ground, the dark grays gestured for the humans to sit. Jon indicated that they should be seated first. They motioned for the humans to sit.
Jon held up his fingers. "One, two, three." He mimed that they should all be seated at once. "Sit." He matched action to the work.
The darkest gray personage hissed as it sat, turning its head slightly to its companion and making some liquid comment. The other nodded.
"Ex and Wye?" Nimisha said out of the corner of her mouth, leaning toward Jon.
Ex touched one digit to its chest and "ooool" was the sound that came out.
"Ex equals Ooool?"
Ool nodded vigorously and the mouth slit opened. The other gray clearly said, "Ooook," pointing to itself. Then it indicated Ool and repeated that sound.
"Help, Helm," Jon murmured.
"The true sound goes beyond human hearing, Commander. Repeat the sounds you do hear as closely as you can," was Helm's advice.
"Ool, ooooool?" Jon pointed to Ool. Then struggled with "Ooook."
The two grays titled their heads from one side to another, regarding each other with black bands of eye slits wide.
"They're too polite to laugh," Syrona murmured. "But they have a sibilant… let me try my name. Sy-ron-ah."
"Ssssooo ah," was Ool's attempt and it struggled with that much.
"Tim?" Tim offered, pointing to himself.
"Immmmm." For some reason this sound was repeated not only by Ool and Ook, but by Ay, Bee, and then the audience.
"Pay dirt," Casper remarked in a low tone.
Ool and Ook exchanged several remarks.
"If they could be kept talking," Helm said quietly, "more sounds could be registered and there would be a better chance of isolating words within the sounds."
"What do you call this?" Jon said, holding up the cup and pointing to it.
Ool and Ook once again exchanged glances. Ool said a quick combination of vowels.
Jon pointed into the cup. Ook replied with another set of sounds. And the audience repeated these. Then the aliens began to chant the sounds that had already been made, starting with the names of the two grays, Syrona's name, Tim, and the word for cup and for the juice. The name, "Immm" caused what must be alien laughter whenever it was repeated.
"Let's everyone sing along," Nimisha said softly, struggling to keep from laughing aloud. "Cup," she said in a louder voice, holding it up. Pointing inside, she said, "Fruit Juice."
The audience came in right on cue, and that was how the rest of the morning went: each species getting a chance to point and name things in its own language while the other struggled to replicate the sounds. Occasional ululations rippled through the audience, but the overall reaction seemed to be one of enjoyment.
"Makes me think of the sounds from old Terran Africa," Syrona remarked at one point when a warble had been musically extended.
Then Jon raised his arms for silence, a gesture understood by the aliens. He pointed to all the humans and said very clearly, "Hu-manz." He put his thumb on his chest "Hu-man."
"Ooooh-maaaa-zuh!" Ool said carefully.
Jon repeated the word, aspirating the "h."
"Yu-man-z."
"Yu-ma-z," was as close as Ool, Ook, Ay, Bee, and the crowd got. But Jon clasped both hands above his head in approbation. He gracefully turned his hand to Ool and Ook, then circled his fingers toward Ay, Bee, and the audience.
Ool gave a quick bob of its head. "Ssss-imm," was the carefully enunciated reply, with Ool opening its mouth wide and showing the regular row of tiny pointed teeth before the lips closed on the "m" sound.
"Maybe that's why they laughed at my name," Tim said. "It's something like a word of theirs after all. Ssss-immm," he said, enunciating with lips and sound.
The hooting was widespread, and many repeated Jon's gesture of clasping their hands above their head.
"Helm, are they saying shim or ssssh-im?" Casper asked.
"On the decibel recorder it is two separate sounds. Sh'im is closest," Helm replied after a nanosecond's deliberation.
"Sh'im," Jon said, pointing to them. His thumb in his direction. "Oo-man."
"I am picking up private conversations in the audience," Helm said. "I am recording. They are relaxed and enjoying this."
"Best show in town," Casper said, rolling his eyes with amusement.
They kept on pointing at and naming things, from the dirt and stones underfoot to the shrubbery, the stools, the ruins of the old ship, the sky, sun, and moons until the sun was high in the sky.
At last Syrona admitted to a splitting headache, which allowed Nimisha to say she, too, had one. Tim had been quiet for some time, but sat quietly on his stool, watching the Sh'im leaders.
"Have you enough to work on now, Helm?" Jon asked as both Sh'im and Humans seemed to take a pause.
"Yes, Captain."
"Good, then let's wind up this session and thank our hosts." He rose, bowed to Ool and Ook, and gestured to the gig. Then he pantomimed the sun going down and raised one finger.
Ool bobbed his head and held up his two fingers. Then turned his head from side to side.
"Now does that mean a bob is no and a shake is yes?" Syrona asked.
"That would be my interpretation," Helm said.
So Jon lifted two fingers and shook his head and bowed again.
Ool, Ook, Ay, and Bee rose and bowed. So did all the Sh'im in the audience, and with that the two groups separated.
"I don't know when I've been more exhausted," Nimisha said as they returned to the gig.
"That's normal enough when trying to reach a rapport with new… ah… aliens," Jon said. "I'm whacked."
"Thank goodness," Syrona muttered, but she gave Jon a quick grin to take away the sting of her comment.
"And Tim's our star," Jon said, putting his arms across the boy's shoulders and then catching him as the boy stumbled. "Our tired star. I think he rates as many burgers and as much ice cream as he can eat."
"If he doesn't fall asleep first," Casper said.
"You have been followed," Helm said softly. "They do not carry arms."
"Don't turn around," Jon said quickly, twisting Tim who was about to do Just that. "They would be curious about our transport."
"Ay and Bee'd've told 'em," Tim said tiredly, plodding along.
"I think seeing's believing," Syrona remarked, reaching out her hand to help him.
"Shouldn't we at least wave goodbye?" Nimisha asked, keenly aware of being under surveillance.
"A bow would be safer and equally appropriate," Jon replied.
They had reached the gig now and, when Jon murmured "about-face," they did so as well as any drill team, bowing at the line of Sh'im who crowded the crest of the hill, some creeping up to peek through the shrubs. The hisses, hoots, and other sounds which could only have been made by Sh'im vocal equipment carried on the still midday air. Once again bows were exchanged. Then the Humans entered the gig and the hatch slid shut.