A Princess of the Aerie by John Barnes Page B

then dumped
     me for a heet in a slec group.”
    “Heart broken?”
    “Not even dented.”
    “Thought so.” Smiling, Duj took another big bite of the food, and said, “Weehu.”
    “What?”
    “Normally all I notice about food is whether there’s enough of it. That’s what a base calorie demand of six thousand a day
     will do for you. But this stuff tastes
good.
”
    “You’re comparing it with a couple of weeks of ship food,” Jak said. “It’s amazing, a Spatial ship has ten times the kitchen
     space a merchant sunclipper does, and can get offship ingredients fresh, usually every month or so, but still the food is
     so much better on a sunclipper, and a lot less monotonous.”
    “Toktru,” Dujuv said, through another mouthful.
    Quietly, Jak put his purse down on the table and said, “Record the next conversation, stop when the subject of conversation
     changes.”
    “I’ll check before I assume it’s changed,” the purse said.
    “Good.” Jak stroked its reward spot. “Now, old toves, I have to do a report for my Solar System Ethnography course, and the
     topic I got approved is ‘comparison of merchant and Spatial crewie societies.’ What did you all notice about the Spatial?”
    “No sense of humor!” Dujuv said, through a mouthful of noodles. (Jak assumed that was what “Nofenf avumer” meant.)
    Myxenna added, “They look down on anyone who shows any interest in comfort.”
    “Lousy place for a panth. They’re all very proud of being the brainy service, so they all pat me on the head. It’s funny because
     first it got me thinking about how much I didn’t like being treated as stupid, and then about the fact that I get treated
     as stupid all the time, it was just more consistent on the Spatial ships, and then I got to thinking that, you know, I’m not
     glib like Jak or brilliant like Myx but I’m not stupid at all. I’m like most panths, normal intelligence, maybe better. That
really
made me think.”
    Jak nodded. “On the ship, you couldn’t even talk to us about any of that. So you’ve been thinking
a lot
.”
    “I always think a lot. I just do it kind of slow.”
    Myxenna said, “I knew you thought a lot. You used to be kind of ashamed of it, I thought.”
    “I was, I guess. I was getting plenty of attention for being a good-looking goalie. That also meant people were watching me
     all the time. Why risk getting attention by opening my mouth and maybe saying something stupid?”
    Jak said, “You don’t let me get away with treating you as if you were dumb. Rightly so, masen?”
    “Hey, I expect my best friend to know that I’m
playing
dumb.”
    “Your demmy always did know,” Myx said.
    Dujuv looked up, and for one moment the warmth that shone in his eyes made Jak wonder why Myxenna didn’t just melt at the
     sight of it. “I know,” he said. “Why do you think I bonded so tight that I can’t let go? Because you were kind to me, and
     panths grow up so hungry for human contact, masen?”
    “I have noticed that,” Jak said. “I thought it was just part of the genetic programming.”
    “Naw, it’s because we’re all lonely kids. We have to be. We’re dangerous to other kids. We get muscle and coordination much
     earlier than unmodifieds, but intelligence and empathic sense much later. That’s why we have to be in a special crèche instead
     of dev school—when I was four, by unmodified standards, I was emotionally two but physically ten, with panth reflexes. Don’t
     either of
you
ever say this because it’s offensive as hell, but what we say among ourselves is that up till gen school, panths don’t need
     parents, we need zookeepers.”
    It was so unexpected that Myx blew tea through her nose.
    “Now
that’s
like old times,” Jak said.
    Myx tried to grab and tickle him, but she was giggling too hard, and then Dujuv bounced across the table and got into it—on
     both sides, as he always did, in the interest of fairness—and they were all tussling