“Good,” I said. “The sooner we get to General Gau the better.” I unzipped the suitcase.
“This is a very exciting moment for us,” Hickory said. “This is the first time since you have lived with Major Perry and Lieutenant Sagan that you will meet other Obin in person.”
“But they know all about me,” I said.
“Yes,” Hickory said. “The recordings of the last year have made their way to all Obin, both in unedited and digest form. The unedited versions will take time to process.”
“I’ll bet,” I said. “Here we are.” I found what I was looking for: the stone knife, given to me by my werewolf. I had packed it quickly, when no one was looking. I was just making sure that I didn’t imagine packing it.
“You brought your stone knife,” Hickory said.
“I did,” I said. “I have plans for it.”
“What plans?” Hickory asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” I said. “But tell me, Hickory,” I said. “This ship we’re going to. Is there anyone important on it?”
“Yes,” Hickory said. “Because it is the first time that you have been in the presence of other Obin since you were a child, one of the members of Obin’s governing council will be there to greet you. It very much wants to meet with you.”
“Good,” I said, and glanced at the knife. “I very much want to meet with it, too.”
I think I actually made Hickory nervous right then.
TWENTY-TWO
“Demand something back,” I said to myself as I waited for the Obin council member to greet me in my stateroom. “Demand something back. Demand something back.”
I’m definitely going to throw up, I thought.
You can’t throw up, I answered myself. You haven’t figured out the plumbing yet. You don’t know what to throw up into.
That at least was true. The Obin don’t excrete or take care of their personal hygiene the same way humans do, and they don’t have the same issues with modesty that we do when they’re with others of their own race. In the corner of my stateroom was an interesting array of holes and spigots that looked like something that you would probably use for bathroom purposes. But I had no idea what was what. I didn’t want to use the thing that I thought was the sink, only to find out later it was supposed to be the toilet. Drinking from the toilet was fine for Babar, but I like to think I have higher standards.
This was definitely going to be an issue in another hour or two. I would have to ask Hickory or Dickory about it.
They weren’t with me because I asked to be taken directly to my stateroom when we took off and then asked to be alone for an hour, at which point I wanted to see the council member. I think that by doing that, I messed up some sort of ceremonial welcome from the crew of the Obin transport (called Obin Transport 8532, in typical and boring Obin efficiency), but I didn’t let that bother me. It did have the effect I was going for at the moment: I had decided I was going to be a little bit difficult. Being a little bit difficult was going to make it easier, I hoped, to do what I needed to do next. Which was to try to save Roanoke.
My dad had his own plan to do that, and I was going to help him with it. But I was thinking up a plan of my own. All it needed me to do was to demand something back.
Something really, really, really big.
Oh, well, my brain said. If this doesn’t work at least you can ask this council guy where you’re supposed to pee. Yes, well, that would be something.
There was a knock on my stateroom door, and the door then slid open. There was no lock on the door because Obin among themselves didn’t have much of a concept of privacy (no signal on the door, either, for the same reason). Three Obin entered the room: Hickory and Dickory, and a third Obin who was new to me.
“Welcome, Zo?,” it said to me. “We welcome you at the start of your time with the Obin.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Are you the council member?”
“I am,” it said. “My name is Dock.”
I tried very hard to keep a smile off my face and failed miserably. “You said your name was Dock,” I said.
“Yes,” it said.
“As in ‘Hickory, Dickory, Dock,’” I said.
“That is correct,” it said.
“That’s quite a coincidence,” I said, once I got my face back under control.
“It is not a coincidence,” Dock said. “When you named Hickory and Dickory, we learned of the nursery rhyme from which you derived the names. When I and many other Obin chose names for ourselves, we chose words from the rhyme.”
“I knew there were other Hickorys and Dickorys,” I said. “But you’re telling me that there are other Obin named ‘Dock,’ too.”
“Yes,” said Dock.
“And ‘Mouse’ and ‘Clock,’” I said.
“Yes,” said Dock.
“What about ‘Ran,’ ‘Up,’ and ‘The’?” I asked.
“Every word in the rhyme is popular as a name,” said Dock.