said she hadn’t trusted it?
She couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered. Okani’s reaction might have had nothing to do with Uzven and everything to do with his own ego.
“My earlier translation was correct,” Okani said. “This boy asked for protection from the humans. Even though that is part of the cultural definition of asylum, it would be a stretch to think he was saying asylum here. From what he says, his life was in danger. Someone was actively trying to kill him, and he wanted to be safe from that.”
“Someone was trying to kill him,” she said. “Someone managed to kill three of his companions.”
Okani’s mouth thinned. He nodded. “This boy is scared. That much is clear.”
“What else is clear?”
“This is his first encounter with the Eaufasse,” Okani said.
“Even though he speaks their language?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “He must have learned it through vids or holographic representation or something, because he seems alarmed when they move, as if he doesn’t expect that.”
“Could that simply be a reaction to his circumstances?” she asked. “After all, someone did just try to kill him.”
Okani shrugged. “I can’t speak to someone’s state of mind, particularly someone I’ve never met. He just seemed uncomfortable with them, more than you’d expect from someone who was used to the culture.”
She had other questions along this line, but she decided to hold on to them for a moment. “You said you didn’t envy me, that there were many issues. Then you tell me that he isn’t asking for asylum, which changes my legal position for the better. So I don’t understand. What problems are you foreseeing here?”
Okani sat up straighter, like a man who was about to face trouble of his own making. He clearly thought for a moment, as if he were choosing his words carefully. Then he said,
“The Eaufasse have strict ideas about property. Essentially, they believe that if they have something in hand, it’s theirs. Their idea of ownership is similar to that of a three-year-old child’s.”
She had a hunch she knew where he was going with this, but she wanted him to get there on his own.
“It’s pretty clear to me from what the boy said in that room that he’s a clone of some kind. I don’t think the Eaufasse understood that. I don’t know for certain however.”
She frowned. She didn’t know where Okani was going with this part of the analysis. “And the fact that he might be a clone is important why?”
“Because of his legal status,” Okani said. “If he personally hasn’t been declared human under Earth Alliance law, then he’s property, and if he’s property, the Eaufasse will claim him.”
The Earth Alliance was very clear in its laws about clones. Clones were not considered human under the law. That was why clones could be bought and sold. Clones were only considered human if someone with human legal status adopted them and then went through the long process to get the clone declared human.
“Are the Eaufasse familiar with clones?” Gomez had encountered some cultures that had no understanding of cloning at all.
“I don’t know,” Okani said.
She nodded. “Did he tell them he was a clone?”
“Not in so many words,” Okani said. “They kept asking him for his name. He kept repeating that he had no name. That if someone had to distinguish him from the others, they called him The Third.”
She let out a small breath. Humans would think of that as a possible clone tag. But it could also be cultural. The Disty only allowed themselves to be referred to by number as well, at least by outsiders.
“He didn’t call himself a clone, though, did he?”
“No,” Okani said. “He just kept asking them to keep him safe, and they made no promises. If I were that boy, I’d be terrified.”
“What will they do with him if we don’t take him?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Okani said. “Kill him, keep him, trade him, sell him.