Tales of the Wide Spaces/002: Difference between revisions
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David Holderness looked across his desk to the group of applicants that had just been ushered into his prefabricated office, and smiled; he almost showed his teeth, before, clamping down on long-held habit, he managed to keep his lips together. His briefing had been clear on that point. ''Some [[Çerid]] know what it means, if they've interacted enough with humans,'' he'd been told, ''but it's best not to rely on that. Among themselves, baring teeth is a sign of aggression.'' | David Holderness looked across his desk to the group of applicants that had just been ushered into his prefabricated office, and smiled; he almost showed his teeth, before, clamping down on long-held habit, he managed to keep his lips together. His briefing had been clear on that point. ''Some [[Çerid]] know what it means, if they've interacted enough with humans,'' he'd been told, ''but it's best not to rely on that. Among themselves, baring teeth is a sign of aggression.'' | ||
Latest revision as of 01:06, 15 July 2021
David Holderness looked across his desk to the group of applicants that had just been ushered into his prefabricated office, and smiled; he almost showed his teeth, before, clamping down on long-held habit, he managed to keep his lips together. His briefing had been clear on that point. Some Çerid know what it means, if they've interacted enough with humans, he'd been told, but it's best not to rely on that. Among themselves, baring teeth is a sign of aggression.
Before him, a cluster of scaly, winged creatures with antenna-like structures sprouting from their heads regarded him with what could have been respectful patience, or, there again, could just as easily have been boredom or disdain.
The briefing had indeed been brief - it had, for instance, delivered only the most basic information about how to interpret their facial expressions. But from the sound of it, it had been unavoidable. For years, the pool of talent in Nouvelle Alexandrie for knowledgeable dealings with the desert creatures had been small, but also in very low demand. The wave of Çer refugees entering southern Alduria had rather abruptly changed the equation, and while more detailed information on the newcomers had been slowly disseminating, people familiar with it were in extremely short supply.
Trusting that this group had been sent to him because they didn't need an interpreter, Holderness began, "So! Welcome to Nouvelle Alexandrie. I see you've been through the checkpoint-"
"I be Enaçtli, daughter of Tuduri, mighty and wise. I speak."
"...ah," Holderness replied. He took note of the speaker's larger size, bulky build, and facial markings, all apparently female traits. The briefing had warned about upsetting the ones whose markings, like Enaçtli's, were quite dark; it was evidently a sign of status and required tact to avoid giving offense. "Yes, well. I greet you, daughter of Tuduri. I'm David Holderness." He hoped that the form of the answer satisfied her. "You have the papers they gave you?"
Enaçtli's nostrils flared. The sandy-scaled Çer produced a wad of paper and set it on the desk with a meaty paw and claw-tipped fingers; most of the responses on the forms were typed, a fair indication that, as with most applications, someone had filled it out on their behalf, most Çerid having no experience with writing. Enaçtli watched the papers carefully as Holderness glanced at them, as if expecting them to go for the man's throat.
"The ovaresh ask many silly questions," she volunteered.
Holderness had learned enough by now to know that ovaresh was a word for human. "Well, the Federation is happy to accept refugees from the Antakian expansion, of course," he replied, trying to sound as mild about it as possible, "but we do want to know about who we accept."
Enaçtli snorted. "Why? ...Numbers, yes. I understand this. But why names? Why ages? Why papers?" she added, gesturing at the forms.
Perhaps unconsciously, the Çer had leaned forward over the desk while asking the question; just as unconsciously, Holderness leaned away uneasily. "Well... it does help with planning, how and where to direct resources, that sort of thing," he managed.
"We cross boundary," Enaçtli persisted. "Is all! We be push out of us wilds, we go into you wilds. No 'resources', no 'direct', no 'plan'. We take care to eat and drink what land can give. Easy, yes? Save papers, yes?"
"Yes, of course I see your point, but-" Holderness tried to sound soothing. It was a hard trick to pull off when one's voice was quavering. "-but if you go to one of the camps, there'll be shelter, medicine, assistance-"
The Çer's reply came out with ominous overtones of growl. "You think we no can provide for selves?"
"Of course you can! But..." He thought quickly. "But a wise person takes an opportunity when it comes. Right?"
Enaçtli pulled her head back, staring shrewdly at Holderness, who decided that he didn't dare look away; he sensed that she was judging his sincerity. She worked hew jaw, emitting a low rumble - something like a motorboat's engine - before falling silent, opening her mouth, and snapping it loudly shut. "This is true. If you eager to help, that you business. I allow this."
Holderness relaxed muscles he hadn't realized he had contracted, and sank slightly in his chair. Apparently he wasn't going to have his face eaten off... this time.
I just hope I'm as lucky through the rest of this...