Free Silent Songs by A. C. Crispin, Kathleen O'Malley Page A

you know which animals have a burgeoning
    intelligence, and which do not? How can you risk it?"
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    The Grus had been totally nonplussed by her reaction, while Thunder felt this was the first truly humorous thing an alien had ever said. But Tesa couldn't shrug K'heera's concerns off so easily. As Interrelator, she wasn't here just to speak for the Grus and safeguard their culture, but as a voice for all the intelligent beings on Trinity. But while CLS rules regarding her role might seem clear to a Planetary Council light-years away, on the World things were not always so easy to define.
    She'd already reduced her own reliance on Trinity's animal food drastically, and at her urging, the other scientists had done the same. Bruce had assured Tesa that most of the fish on Trinity had only rudimentary brains, and bivalves had no brains at all. Even so, whenever Tesa added animal protein to their diet, K'heera would be nearby, silently protesting the murder of Trinity's creatures. It was getting to Tesa.
    Only because you're afraid she's right! she told herself, washing the fish, then wrapping it in long, bright red leaves.
    She stared across the river at Lightning and Flies-Too-Fast. They'd grown bold and had flown to the shallow sandbar in the middle of the river's wide expanse. Comfortable now that they'd eaten, they stopped to bathe and preen. The rest of the cohort had spread apart, some still eating, others just loafing.
    She wished that she were here alone with them; nothing would feel like work the way this did now. But then, everything would be easier if Jib and K'heera enjoyed camping at all. K'heera and he shared that in common, at least.
    Shelter construction and food foraging were nothing but drudgery to the two students. Jib only wanted to talk about Anzia and record letters for her, while K'heera couldn't find enough time to groom, as though one had to look perfect in the middle of nowhere. The grooming, Tesa knew, was partly for reassurance. The Simiu had to be sorely missing her own people.
    She watched K'heera gather reeds for her bed. Like Jib, the flame-furred being had been outfitted with modern camping equipment, including a-grav sleep pads. But after Tesa had constructed her own shelter from natural materials, the Simiu had eschewed such modern trappings. It would have been dishonorable for K'heera to be more comfortable than a human.
    Life's too short, Tesa thought, for all this Sturm und Drang. She wished that her grandfather were here. He'd been a sacred clown for so long, he'd make this somber creature laugh--and laughter was the most powerful medicine.
    Well, if he were here,
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    he'd only be disappointed that I haven't heard any sea spirits. She smiled.
    Wouldn't her cohort love that!
    She tucked the leaf-wrapped fish into a mesh bag and walked over to K'heera, now carefully keeping her eyes downcast.
    "Would you like to go foraging?" she asked. It made her uncomfortable signing to someone who wouldn't look at her. She never knew if K'heera was paying attention or not. "The cohort's finished eating. We could all go."
    Tesa didn't like to admit it, but she felt more secure when the group stayed together.
    The Simiu moved a hand noncommittally. "I can go when you're serving supper." Tesa would prefer that K'heera gather her food early so they could all eat together, but whenever she suggested that, K'heera demurred.
    "Jib and Bruce might not be back till after dark," Tesa signed. "I wouldn't be comfortable with you foraging after sunset." With a Simiu, things had to be worded so carefully. If she flatly refused to let K'heera go, she would dishonor her.
    "Lightning has shown me a patch of bitterberries nearby. He and I can gather them and still be within the camp light."
    But far enough away not to share our conversation, Tesa thought. Of course, Simiu did not use meals to socialize.
    "Can I help you with those reeds?" Tesa asked.
    "Thank you, Honored Interrelator, they're no trouble."
    I'll bet, the