officials of the local utilities stayed out of the lamaseries. It was all very civilized.
Except that in the Niyyuuan version people died.
“Everyone respect results, of traditional ongoing killing, without argument?” Instead of bending to clear a low archway, Braouk contracted his four treelike walking tentacles and lowered himself by a foot.
“Argument is settled by winning of fight,” Viyv-pym told him. “After fighting over, no argument left. Anyone with personal feelings about subject matter of dispute is always given place in army. Ample room then for letting deep feelings be known.”
A wonderful way for society’s disgruntled to blow off steam, Walker realized. Pick up a sword or spear and hack away at your frustrations.
As they entered one of the building’s internal transports and were conveyed swiftly and silently to another linked structure, the juxtaposition of the advanced method of getting from one part of the government complex to another with what he continued to see on the roll-up visual prompted a question of a different sort. He hoped Viyv-pym’s translator was capable of handling the same terms and referents as his own.
“I saw plenty of swords and spears, knives and slings, and in the background a few larger devices that looked like catapults and other primitive war machines.” He indicated the high-speed, climate-controlled, virtually vibrationless capsule that was presently carrying all of them, including Braouk, in comparative comfort. “Your people have vessels capable of interstellar travel, complex translation devices that function even between species, machines that can synthesize many varieties of food from basic nutritional components, and communications equipment like this.” He held up the flexible receiver. “But I didn’t see one gun of any size, shape, or style in use during that battle. No explosives of any kind, nothing.”
Behind him, Sque commented on his query with a rude bubbling noise. He ignored the K’eremu’s snide remark, a typical reference to his manifest stupidity. Maybe the explanation
was
obvious—but it wasn’t to him. At least George had nothing to say. The dog’s attentiveness showed that he was as interested in the answer as was his bipedal companion.
“When original concord forged by all warring realms,” Viyv-pym explained patiently, “it decided then and there to freeze means of disputation at technological level existing at time of final accord. Has not changed ever since. Permissible weaponry still same as that used during mid Seventh Interregnum.”
Walker persisted. “But what’s to keep someone on the verge of having their head cut off from pulling out a pistol, just that one time, and blowing their assailant away?”
“Same steadfast compact that keep military from attacking noncombatants.” Viyv-pym put a gentle arm around his shoulders. “Must try to see state of affairs from Niyyuu point of view, Marcus.” He wasn’t sure which was more unsettling: the arm resting on his shoulders and neck, or her use of his first name. “Ancient accord sustains harmony of all Niyu. If one realm breaks tradition, all other realms combine to punish it. If individual breaks with custom, own comrades would provide punishment. Accord has lasted thus for thousands of forty-days.” Inclining toward him, she brought her face close to his own. He had to fight not to lose himself in the flaxen depths of her eyes.
“Is not same with you’s culture?”
“Not exactly.” He swallowed. “We have wars—we do fight—but we’re not as . . . polite, about it as the Niyyuu.”
A soft barking nearby caused him to glance sharply downward. George was visibly amused. “I can see trying something like this on Earth. Might work with higher beings, like dogs. But humans? You can’t even keep from using advanced weapons between mates. There’s civilized behavior, and then there’s
Except that in the Niyyuuan version people died.
“Everyone respect results, of traditional ongoing killing, without argument?” Instead of bending to clear a low archway, Braouk contracted his four treelike walking tentacles and lowered himself by a foot.
“Argument is settled by winning of fight,” Viyv-pym told him. “After fighting over, no argument left. Anyone with personal feelings about subject matter of dispute is always given place in army. Ample room then for letting deep feelings be known.”
A wonderful way for society’s disgruntled to blow off steam, Walker realized. Pick up a sword or spear and hack away at your frustrations.
As they entered one of the building’s internal transports and were conveyed swiftly and silently to another linked structure, the juxtaposition of the advanced method of getting from one part of the government complex to another with what he continued to see on the roll-up visual prompted a question of a different sort. He hoped Viyv-pym’s translator was capable of handling the same terms and referents as his own.
“I saw plenty of swords and spears, knives and slings, and in the background a few larger devices that looked like catapults and other primitive war machines.” He indicated the high-speed, climate-controlled, virtually vibrationless capsule that was presently carrying all of them, including Braouk, in comparative comfort. “Your people have vessels capable of interstellar travel, complex translation devices that function even between species, machines that can synthesize many varieties of food from basic nutritional components, and communications equipment like this.” He held up the flexible receiver. “But I didn’t see one gun of any size, shape, or style in use during that battle. No explosives of any kind, nothing.”
Behind him, Sque commented on his query with a rude bubbling noise. He ignored the K’eremu’s snide remark, a typical reference to his manifest stupidity. Maybe the explanation
was
obvious—but it wasn’t to him. At least George had nothing to say. The dog’s attentiveness showed that he was as interested in the answer as was his bipedal companion.
“When original concord forged by all warring realms,” Viyv-pym explained patiently, “it decided then and there to freeze means of disputation at technological level existing at time of final accord. Has not changed ever since. Permissible weaponry still same as that used during mid Seventh Interregnum.”
Walker persisted. “But what’s to keep someone on the verge of having their head cut off from pulling out a pistol, just that one time, and blowing their assailant away?”
“Same steadfast compact that keep military from attacking noncombatants.” Viyv-pym put a gentle arm around his shoulders. “Must try to see state of affairs from Niyyuu point of view, Marcus.” He wasn’t sure which was more unsettling: the arm resting on his shoulders and neck, or her use of his first name. “Ancient accord sustains harmony of all Niyu. If one realm breaks tradition, all other realms combine to punish it. If individual breaks with custom, own comrades would provide punishment. Accord has lasted thus for thousands of forty-days.” Inclining toward him, she brought her face close to his own. He had to fight not to lose himself in the flaxen depths of her eyes.
“Is not same with you’s culture?”
“Not exactly.” He swallowed. “We have wars—we do fight—but we’re not as . . . polite, about it as the Niyyuu.”
A soft barking nearby caused him to glance sharply downward. George was visibly amused. “I can see trying something like this on Earth. Might work with higher beings, like dogs. But humans? You can’t even keep from using advanced weapons between mates. There’s civilized behavior, and then there’s
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