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Mordechai Anielewicz laughed loud Tosevite laughter. “How many males and females of the Race give reverence to God at Tosevite shrines?”
“Why, none, of course,” Nesseref said. A moment later, she added, “Oh. I see.” Big Uglies kept thinking of themselves as equal and equivalent to members of the Race. Such thought patterns didn’t come naturally to Nesseref. She might reckon Mordechai Anielewicz a friend, but most Big Uglies were to her nothing but barbarians-dangerous barbarians, but barbarians even so.
“Maybe you do,” Anielewicz said, laughing again. “But I did not call you to discuss superstition. I hope I am not troubling you, but I called to ask another favor, if you would be so kind.”
“Friends may ask favors of friends,” Nesseref said. “That is one of the things that defines friendship. Ask. If it is in my power, you shall have it.”
“I thank you.” Anielewicz added another emphatic cough. “Friends are all I have now. Except for my mate and hatchlings, I believe all my relations died in the bombings of Lodz and Warsaw.”
“I am sorry to hear it,” Nesseref said. “I understand that, among Tosevites, relations take the place good friends hold among the Race.” She understood that in her mind, not her liver, but she assumed Anielewicz realized as much. “As I said before, ask. If I can help you, I will.”
“Very well.” Anielewicz paused, then said, “We are, for now, staying in a refugee center. We lived in Lodz, and Lodz, of course, is no longer a city. Can you suggest some officials in Pinsk with whom we might talk to help arrange housing, real housing, for us?”
“Of course. Please wait while I check to see who would be most likely to help you quickly.” She used the computer’s keyboard to access the Race’s table of organization in Pinsk. After giving Anielewicz three or four names, she said, “If you like, wait a day or two before calling them. I will speak to them first and let them know who you are and what you need.”
“That would be wonderful,” the Tosevite told her. “Many of your administrators are also new in Poland, replacing males and females who perished in the fighting and who were more familiar with me.”
“Exactly why I made the suggestion,” Nesseref said. “Let me do that now, then.”
“Fine.” Anielewicz even understood she meant the conversation was over. A good many members of the Race would have gone right on chattering after such a hint, but he broke the connection.
The first call Nesseref made to Pinsk was to the officer in charge of liaison between the Race’s military forces and those of the Big Uglies in Poland. Nowhere else on Tosev 3 would the Race have had such a liaison officer. That it had one here still struck Nesseref as unnatural, but she made use of the male.
And he, to her relief, knew who Mordechai Anielewicz was. “Yes,” he said. “I have received reports of his search for his blood kin from a male in Security in the Reich. Everyone seems to be astonished that he succeeded in finding them, especially with the Deutsche so inimical to those of his superstition.”
“I certainly was, when he telephoned me just now,” Nesseref said. “I was also surprised to learn that a male who has done the Race so many important services should have to inhabit a refugee center because he is unable to find housing for himself, his mate, and his hatchlings.”
“That is unfortunate,” the liaison officer agreed. “I thank you for bringing it to my attention. Perhaps I should speak to someone in the housing authority.”
“I wish you would,” Nesseref said. “I intended to do the same thing myself, but they are likelier to listen to a male from the conquest fleet than to a shuttlecraft pilot without any great connections.”
“Sometimes I think the bureaucrats, especially the ones from the colonization fleet, pay no attention to anyone except themselves,” the liaison officer said. “But what I can do, I shall do: I assure you of that.”
“I thank you,” Nesseref said. “I think I will also make those phone calls myself. Perhaps I can reinforce you. I count Mordechai Anielewicz as a friend, and I am pleased to do whatever I can for him.”
“Well, of course, if he is a friend,” replied the male from the conquest fleet. “I have Tosevite friends myself, so I understand how you feel.”
“Oh, good. I am very glad to hear that,” Nesseref said. “It gives me hope that, in spite of everything, we may yet be able to live alongside the Big Uglies on a long-term basis.” She hesitated. Rather defensively, she added, “We may.” The liaison officer didn’t laugh at her. She feared that was more likely to mean he was polite, though, than that he agreed with her.
“Reuven!” Moishe Russie called from the Lizards’ computer-and-telephone unit. “Come here for a minute, would you? You may be able to give me some help. I hope you can, anyway-I could use some.”
“I’m coming, Father.” Reuven hurried into the front room. “What’s up?” he asked, and then stopped in surprise when he saw Shpaaka, one of the leading Lizard physicians at the Russie Medical College, looking out of the monitor screen at him. He shifted into the language of the Race: “I greet you, superior sir.”
“And I greet you, Reuven Russie,” Shpaaka answered. “It is good to see you again, even if you decided that your superstition precluded you from finishing your studies with us.”
“I thank you. It is good to see you, too.” Seeing Shpaaka reminded Reuven how much he missed the medical college, something he tried not to think about most of the time. Trying not to think about it now, he asked, “How can I help?”
His father coughed a couple of times. “I think I will let Shpaaka explain it to you, as he had begun to explain it to me.”
“Very well,” Shpaaka said, though by his tone it was anything but very well. He looked about as uncomfortable as Reuven had ever seen a male of the Race. It’s something to do with sex, he thought. It has to be. And, sure enough, the Lizard physician said, “I called your father, Reuven Russie, to discuss a case of perversion.”
That made Moishe Russie speak up: “It would be better, Doctor, if you discussed the case itself and let us draw the value judgments, if any.”
“Ve
ry well, though I find it difficult to be dispassionate here,” Shpaaka said. “The problem concerns a pair from the colonization fleet, a female named Ppurrin and a male called Waxxa. They were best friends back on Home, and they resumed that close friendship after coming to Tosev 3. Unfortunately, after coming to Tosev 3, both of them also became addicted to ginger, that most pernicious of all herbs.”
“Uh-oh,” Reuven said to his father. “Do I know what’s coming next?”
“Half of it, maybe,” Moishe Russie answered. “That’s about how much I guessed.”
Shpaaka said, “May I continue?” as if they’d talked out of turn during one of his lectures. When they looked back toward the monitor, he went on, “As you might imagine, the two of them began to mate with each other when Ppurrin tasted ginger. And, due to these repeated matings, they have conceived a passion for each other altogether inappropriate for members of the Race. After all, during a proper mating season, how is one partner much different from another?”
“You understand, superior sir, that we Tosevites feel rather differently about such things.” Reuven did his best not to sound anything but dispassionate himself. He didn’t use an emphatic cough. He didn’t burst into laughter, either.
“I said the same thing,” his father remarked.
“Of course I understand that,” Shpaaka said impatiently. “It is exactly why I am consulting with you. You see, Ppurrin and Waxxa are so blatant in their perverse behavior that they seek a formal, exclusive mating arrangement, such as is the custom among your species.”
“They want to get married?” Reuven exclaimed. He said it first in Hebrew, which Shpaaka didn’t follow. Then he translated it into English, a tongue the Lizard physician did know fairly well.
And, sure enough, Shpaaka made the affirmative gesture. “That is exactly what they want to do. Can you imagine anything more disgusting?”
Before answering him, Reuven spoke quickly to his father: “Well, you were right. I didn’t think of that.” Then he returned to the language of the Race and said, “Superior sir, I gather you are not simply punishing them because they use ginger.”
