Free Regeneration (Czerneda) by Julie E Czerneda Page B

send everyone away. What message does that give?” Probably not the most tactful question, Mac realized, too late.
    “Message? It is the essential reflection, Mac. That which must take place after congruence. Circularity is movement. Congruence grants momentum. The farther we dare go from one another, while remaining always part, the stronger we—” The Sinzi tilted her head the other way and made a soothing gesture. “My apologies. I have lapsed into language inappropriate for discourse with an alien.”
    “If we stick to shrimp, we’ll never understand one another,” Mac assured her.
    This drew a laugh, but when Anchen’s fingers settled, she pursed her small mouth in a less happy expression. “I will miss our conversations.”
    The words took a moment to sink in. Then Mac struggled to her feet. “We can go?”
    “Yes. However, there must be preparations.”
    Mac nodded and sank back into her chair, already thinking ahead to her own. Her heart was hammering. She’d wanted this outcome—it was another thing entirely to have it. Then, something in the alien’s emphasis caught her attention. “What preparations, Sinzi-ra?”
    “Although Dr. P’tool makes progress developing a teachable pattern for the Dhryn language, with the cooperation of the Vessel, it will not be ready for some time. We may need you.” Two fingers lifted as Mac opened her mouth. She closed it. “For this reason,” Anchen continued, “a transect-capable ship will remain in orbit while you are on Myriam. I trust it will not be required. There is considerable circularity in using that world for any negotiations, should we achieve that stage.”
    Mac swallowed. “You’d rather bring the Dhryn to me,” she said, numbly contemplating the immense power and scope of the Interspecies Union, focused on one, out-of-water, salmon researcher.
    It made sense beyond the Sinzi aesthetic. The Chasm worlds were already dead. Myriam was as close, through the Naralax Transect, as any other world connected along its reach, including Earth. There was just one small problem.
    “I study salmon,” Mac repeated aloud.
    That tiny smile and a gentle correction, “You study life, Mackenzie Connor. But don’t worry. In the event you are needed to translate, there will be senior diplomats to handle every aspect of the negotiations.”
    “Great. You’d better send someone to translate them for me,” Mac muttered.
    Anchen ignored the mutter, bringing her fingers together in a complex arch. New topic , Mac guessed. Sure enough. “You realize several here will protest losing their access to Dr. Mamani.”
    “The idiot faction,” Mac identified without thinking. “I didn’t mean that,” she said hastily, then winced. How confusing could she be? “I do,” she admitted. “I just didn’t intend to say it. I apologize.”
    “There is no need.” Anchen made a soothing gesture. “I envy your ability to speak what you mean.”
    Mac had to laugh. “Trust me, it’s not a gift.”
    “You could start a war by yourself,” the Sinzi agreed with remarkable complacency. “Hence the urgent need for diplomats.” Before Mac could protest, the alien smiled at her. “A joke. You have shown gratifying restraint under difficult circumstances.”
    Well, she hadn’t thrown anything, Mac thought. Lately. Despite temptation. She took advantage of the Sinzi’s mood to ask what she hadn’t dared before. “You agree with me, don’t you? About the idiots.”
    “I agree that some of my colleagues on council have failed to overcome species’ bias when interpreting the actions of others.” The alien swayed to the left, then back. “It is more common than not, Mac.”
    “Interpretation?” Mac couldn’t help herself: “The Ro are the threat, not potential allies! Their actions proved it!”
    “Through your eyes.” A lifted finger silenced Mac’s response to that. The Sinzi went on: “Through other eyes, other minds, Mac, the same actions encourage differing