Free The Light-years Beneath My Feet by Alan Dean Foster Page B

competition for spaces in traditional military, anyway.”
    He sat stunned and silent, unable to believe what he was hearing. It was so at odds with everything he had come to believe about the Niyyuu. Or, he told himself, was it only what he had
wanted
to believe about the Niyyuu? Had he settled hopes and expectations on Viyv-pym and her people that were grounded only in wishful thinking?
    “Have
you
fought in this war, in the military?” he finally heard himself asking.
    “Oh, most for sure.” The eagerness in her voice could not be denied. “Was fortunate enough be awarded two whole full enlistment periods.”
    “And         .         .         .         you killed?”
    “Of course.” Golden eyes glittered with recollection as her voice quivered with suggestions of thrills remembered. “Not real war without killing.”
    How could he argue with that? he told himself. For the first time since he had met her, the beauteous and exotic Viyv-pym receded once again into the realm of the utterly alien.
    As was often the case, it was left to Sque to emotionlessly evaluate what they had been told. “There are ramifications here we do not understand,” she declared quietly from her hanging place in the center of the swaying transport’s ceiling. “We must work to acquire the obligatory cultural referents before we can pronounce judgment. Operating in ignorance, we cannot hope to properly assess composite indigenous conditions.”
    Walker latched onto her uncertainty like an overextended client to a fresh line of credit. What the K’eremu was saying was that there was more here than met the eye, or the ear. Though for the life of him he could not fathom what that might be, he was willing to give it time in the hope that a sensible explanation would present itself.
    Traversing parsecs to swap their situation on peaceful, accommodating Seremathenn for a millennia-old ongoing war was not what he’d had in mind when he had signed on hoping to improve their chances of getting home.
    Often dimly illuminated, the buildings they passed differed in design, shape, and size from those on Seremathenn. Such was to be expected, since Viyv-pym had informed them that much of Niyu’s commerce took place belowground. There was certainly enough nocturnal illumination, however, to guide incoming hostile aircraft, much less anything more sophisticated. Therefore it was abundantly clear the people of Ehbahr city did not fear an assault from the air. That suggested several possibilities, none of which made any more sense to him than what he had already been told. He gave up trying to figure out what was going on and determined to wait for an explanation that did. Hopefully, one would be provided to them.
    There was certainly nothing wrong with or Spartan about their quarters. Prepared in advance according to specifications supplied by Viyv-pym, they bordered on the luxurious. Having been provided with particulars by its new employees, the government of Kojn-umm had gone out of its way to make them feel at home.
    Walker’s personal space on Seremathenn had been accommodating. His quarters in a luxurious section of Ehbahr city consisted of separate, spacious rooms for sitting, sleeping, receiving guests, and performing personal ablutions. Instead of a view of other transformed buildings such as he’d had on Seremathenn, he had transparent barriers that opaqued or vanished at the wave of a hand to allow egress to a porch that overlooked a small stream running through carefully maintained Niyuan forest.
    Flashing multihued phosphorescent scales, small creatures of the night scampered to and fro between foliage and stream. Since the connected rooms did not boast the responsive, all-pervasive synthesized voice-response system of an advanced Seremathenn dwelling, he was shown how to request service from a live Niyyuuan attendant. George would share quarters with Walker, they were informed, while on casual