she’d had six babies before that?”
He shook his head. Rising, he glanced around and finally moved to the tree. Turning the boots upside down, he wedged each on a branch and left them to drip dry.
“Eight at my time. Before that …,” he paused, frowning as he thought if over. “Three first time. Five second time and third. Seven each time after until last.” He shrugged. “Was supposed to be queen last time. Instead eight more males. Sademeen did not produce a queen, thus we are kzatha and she is liemzde--disgraced. Is not the same with your people?”
Eden was mentally calculating Sademeen’s ‘production’, not an easy task to do in her head when she was accustomed to using electronics to calculate and moreover too stunned to actually have full use of her facilities. Poor thing! No wonder she was so misshapen and too crippled to move around! “You’re saying she had forty two babies?” Eden managed a little faintly. They had … litters? Was this why they had the harem type family unit? Because the females produced so many children it took a small army to tend to mother and children? Was this why they seemed so--detached from each other?
It seemed probable. Under those circumstances she could see that every ‘family’ would be almost like an institution, processing without much, if any, time for personal attention. Demonstrations of affection would probably be few and far between, if at all, and thus the offspring would not have had an opportunity to really develop emotionally. The negative emotions would have been deliberately suppressed and discouraged because of the turmoil it could create.
He frowned, but nodded. “She is good mother queen. Should not be liemzde.”
There was defensiveness in both his tone and the tension in his expression, prompting a wave of empathy. Feeling compelled to reassure him that she wasn’t being judgmental about his mother, Eden nodded agreement. In a way, she did agree. It didn’t seem to her that Sademeen could have had control over what her body did, or didn’t, do and therefore shouldn’t be considered at fault. On the other hand, she had been pretty cold about disposing of her last litter.
But maybe that was being judgmental? Maybe Sademeen had only tried to accept what she had believed could not be changed? As horrible as that seemed to her, comparatively speaking it probably wasn’t any worse than some of the human practices. Survival and the insurance of healthy progeny were really at the root of most ‘customs’ of this sort. If the Xtanian’s entire social structure was based on a specific number of males and females and nature threw the count off, it could conceivably create all sorts of problems.
Ivy was right. They weren’t emotionless. Apparently, it wasn’t even altogether a matter of stern discipline that made them exercise iron self-control.
When she emerged from her thoughts, Eden discovered that Baen had moved to the tree and grasped the shaft of one of the bolts. The sleeve of his uniform bulged as he tugged at it. She was on the point of telling him not to worry about retrieving them, certain he would find he couldn’t, when he pulled it loose. Removing the second bolt, he examined both of them carefully and returned them to her.
Mildly amazed and vaguely unnerved by his strength, Eden stared at the bolts for a moment and finally took them from his palm and fitted them back into the slots on the bow designed to hold them.
“Your hunt has been unsuccessful.”
It wasn’t a question. Eden smiled wryly and shrugged. “So far.”
Nodding, he waded into the edge of the stream several yards downstream from where Eden was sitting and grasped something just beneath the surface. Eden gasped when he dragged the carcass of a beast from the water that looked like it must be almost as big as he was and probably weighed more. “I will give you mine and return for another.”
A combination of embarrassment and guilt immediately swamped
He shook his head. Rising, he glanced around and finally moved to the tree. Turning the boots upside down, he wedged each on a branch and left them to drip dry.
“Eight at my time. Before that …,” he paused, frowning as he thought if over. “Three first time. Five second time and third. Seven each time after until last.” He shrugged. “Was supposed to be queen last time. Instead eight more males. Sademeen did not produce a queen, thus we are kzatha and she is liemzde--disgraced. Is not the same with your people?”
Eden was mentally calculating Sademeen’s ‘production’, not an easy task to do in her head when she was accustomed to using electronics to calculate and moreover too stunned to actually have full use of her facilities. Poor thing! No wonder she was so misshapen and too crippled to move around! “You’re saying she had forty two babies?” Eden managed a little faintly. They had … litters? Was this why they had the harem type family unit? Because the females produced so many children it took a small army to tend to mother and children? Was this why they seemed so--detached from each other?
It seemed probable. Under those circumstances she could see that every ‘family’ would be almost like an institution, processing without much, if any, time for personal attention. Demonstrations of affection would probably be few and far between, if at all, and thus the offspring would not have had an opportunity to really develop emotionally. The negative emotions would have been deliberately suppressed and discouraged because of the turmoil it could create.
He frowned, but nodded. “She is good mother queen. Should not be liemzde.”
There was defensiveness in both his tone and the tension in his expression, prompting a wave of empathy. Feeling compelled to reassure him that she wasn’t being judgmental about his mother, Eden nodded agreement. In a way, she did agree. It didn’t seem to her that Sademeen could have had control over what her body did, or didn’t, do and therefore shouldn’t be considered at fault. On the other hand, she had been pretty cold about disposing of her last litter.
But maybe that was being judgmental? Maybe Sademeen had only tried to accept what she had believed could not be changed? As horrible as that seemed to her, comparatively speaking it probably wasn’t any worse than some of the human practices. Survival and the insurance of healthy progeny were really at the root of most ‘customs’ of this sort. If the Xtanian’s entire social structure was based on a specific number of males and females and nature threw the count off, it could conceivably create all sorts of problems.
Ivy was right. They weren’t emotionless. Apparently, it wasn’t even altogether a matter of stern discipline that made them exercise iron self-control.
When she emerged from her thoughts, Eden discovered that Baen had moved to the tree and grasped the shaft of one of the bolts. The sleeve of his uniform bulged as he tugged at it. She was on the point of telling him not to worry about retrieving them, certain he would find he couldn’t, when he pulled it loose. Removing the second bolt, he examined both of them carefully and returned them to her.
Mildly amazed and vaguely unnerved by his strength, Eden stared at the bolts for a moment and finally took them from his palm and fitted them back into the slots on the bow designed to hold them.
“Your hunt has been unsuccessful.”
It wasn’t a question. Eden smiled wryly and shrugged. “So far.”
Nodding, he waded into the edge of the stream several yards downstream from where Eden was sitting and grasped something just beneath the surface. Eden gasped when he dragged the carcass of a beast from the water that looked like it must be almost as big as he was and probably weighed more. “I will give you mine and return for another.”
A combination of embarrassment and guilt immediately swamped
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