Claimings 5, chapter 5

I hope everyone had great holiday. I caught up on grading (doesn't that sound exciting?), but I also took some time out for Ondry and Liam.

*

Ondry stopped at a worn brick building between a sign that announced “Cheap Laundromat” and another that offered “Loans, Reasonable Rates.” The idea of advertising services confused Ondry.  Liam had explained it several times, and Ondry even understood the efficiency of the human system. Humans adapted far faster than Rownt. They had claimed dozens of planets while Rownt Grandmothers hesitated to build anything on a second planet. 

They understood how to seed a planet and had monitored the process on several human-owned planets and moons. However, Rownt preferred to move slowly.  They would no more prarownform a planet than they would put advertisements on the side of their home.  If a person wanted customers, she could sit in front of the building and speak to those who walked past.

But humans had no patience. Objectively, it made their species stronger and more adaptable, but Ondry was very happy Liam had adjusted to a slower Rownt lifestyle. Ondry would not want his people to change. All the buildings here were too narrow and the air smelled of rot and soured water. He could not value progress when it came at such costs.

“The address should be on the next block,” Liam said. A woman opened a door and took one step onto the street before she saw Ondry and retreated into a worn building.

“The Grandmothers would not approve,” Ondry said. Children should not live in this place where there was nothing for them to explore. He knew humans had parks and Liam spoke of going to the beach as a youngling, but here were only buildings devoid of activities which might entertain or educate an eggling. He did not add that he was equally disapproving because he did not wish to insult Liam’s home planet more than he already had. He had to keep stretching his nostrils to keep them from closing. Liam would not miss such an obvious sign of unhappiness.

“You wanted to know what a human charity looked like, and this is it.” Liam wrinkled his nose, so perhaps he was not ignorant as to the inappropriateness of the place.

“I am unimpressed.”

Liam didn’t answer, and they walked the last block in silence. Liam stopped at a gray building with windows painted black before he pulled open a glass door. It too had been painted plack, but it was so scratched and scraped that one could now see through it. On Prarownt, any building that was so ill-maintained would be torn down by whichever adults had no other business to attend that day. 

Liam ducked slightly to get through the door, but Ondry had to bow far deeper, and his skin itched at the involuntary showing of neck to these people.  A female voice said, “Oh my. Oh my. You’re him.  You’re Liam Munson. I thought… well, I just assumed…” She fell silent.

The smell of mold and dirt and sour made Ondry close his nose.  Dirt normally smelled of grass and freshness, and he was even used to the mold that would grow on streambanks, but this concoction was foul.  Even Liam brushed a hand over his nose.

But then he adopted a more diplomatic expression, worthy of a tuk-ranked trader. “Hello. We called the director about having a tour and explaining charity to the Rownt,” Liam said with a close-mouthed smile.

The female stared at Ondry so long that he struggled to avoid taking offense.  She was frail looking, though, with multicolored hair cut raggedly and clothing too small to cover her decorated skin, so treating her like a threat would only compromise his honor.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Liam gave Ondry an amused look.

She cleared her throat.  “We don’t normally allow people to tour the facilities. We want people to have some privacy, you know.” She stood straighter, as though willing to challenge them over this, and Ondry found respect for such a gesture. Her belief she could protect those behind her was ridiculous considering her size, but he was impressed that she was willing to try. He would have to make sure he hit her very gently if she physically challenged Liam.

“I do know,” Liam said in a soft tone. “Ondry simply does not understand how humans care for one another, and so he has no explanations for Grandmothers who ask difficult questions.”

“Right.  Right.”  She cleared her throat again. “Because the Grandmothers are the ultimate authority.  I read that. I read all about that.”

“I wouldn’t say ultimate,” Liam said.  “The Rownt simply have a lot of respect for age and experience.” 

Ondry studied Liam.  The Grandmothers were the ultimate authority, but he had found Liam increasing unwilling to say as much in front of humans. No doubt it was some cultural chasm he hoped to avoid falling into, but Ondry wished Liam would explain it to him. However, by the time they got back to their nest, Ondry never remembered his curiosity, and he was unwilling to ask Liam in front of others.

The female blinked quickly before finally transferring her gaze to Liam.  Her interest made Ondry uncomfortable, especially given how she studied the details of his form. However, she showed no signs of sexual interest. It was much harder to identify in humans since they had no tail to twitch at someone they wished to father children, but Ondry had made a study out of the subtle forms of invitation. She did not touch her hair or turn her head downward or move her hips, and while many texts said rapid eye movement indicated interest, Ondry’s personal experience was that many strong emotions elicited such a reaction. Ondry wondered if it was related to some evolutionary function of clearing the eyes in order to see more clearly.

“Our director… he pretty much says yes to everyone, at least everyone who might have some money to keep the doors open, you know?” She gave a laugh, but Ondry did not understand it. He had studied humor extensively, and even the humor of discomfort which Liam was prone to use, but he could see no cause for her laugh. Perhaps being around a Rownt discomforted her to an extreme or perhaps she did not want to show how they provided for children in need. Ondry moved closer to Liam, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll respect people’s privacy,” Liam assured her.  “We ran into some homeless children downtown, and Ondry was offended at the idea that they might go hungry.” Liam used several markers of sexual interest when he responded. His head tilted down and he smiled.  Liam said he did not want a child, but his body language made Ondry wonder if he was certain about that conclusion. He still remembered when they were first together and Liam would insist that his body was incapable of coming again, yet Ondry could easily drive him to orgasm. It had become a joke that Liam would claim to be broken because he did not understand the limits of his own body.

“Then he’s a better human being than most humans,” the female said in a slightly louder voice, but then she shook her head like a beast trying to clear its fur of moisture.  “Right.  Okay, so I’ll show you the communal spaces.  We try to allot each family one room, but if a family is particularly small, like only two or three people, we ask them to share with another small family.  We have three computers adults can sign up for if they’re applying for jobs or completing training programs.” She pulled a reader key from around her neck and went to a heavy security door, swiping it so the lock chimed.

Such a door would prevent children from going out to explore the world. Ondry was more disturbed than he was willing to show in front of a stranger.

Liam’s hand found Ondry’s, and he intertwined their fingers; clearly Liam had noticed Ondry’s discomfort. The female led them into a corridor with doors on either side, and she opened the first door on the right. It was a small room with beds three high on each side.  Between was a walkway narrow enough that Ondry wouldn’t fit and opposite the door was a storage area with shelving. “One large or two small families can fit per room, and then we have communal spaces,” the female said without any sign of emotional distress. If Ondry had to guess at her emotional state given her body language and tone, he would say she was pleased.

“Each room has two sets of bunkbeds, three beds high. If an individual is older than sixty or younger than twelve, they must be placed on the lowest bunk, so that takes some shuffling around to make sure we have enough low bunks. Sometimes we have to put cots in the rooms, and some of the rooms don’t have a top bed because if we run out of mattresses, we take from the highest bunks first.  Every two family rooms will share one bathroom, and then there is a communal space for every twelve family rooms.  We have four communal spaces, one per floor, so we can house 48 families. But right now we have 56 families because several families are small. We could get a few more families in here, but we try to keep some space for any emergency placements, that’s what this room is. If a family has an emergency, we can place them here.”

If Ondry suffered some catastrophe or if Liam were in need of shelter, they would be housed in the nearest unclaimed home, not moved away from profitable areas. Ondry had always admired parts of human culture, but this was intolerable. 

The female continued, “If you made a donation, we would buy mattresses to get all of our bunks functional and purchase non-perishable foods. We never have enough budget to feed everyone. And of course, we always take donations–clothing, books, games for the children.”

An adult’s nest was inviolate. Ondry would never invite another into his nest, and the idea of being forced to share a nest with one who was not his palteia or a child horrified him.  Ondry would leave the city and live off whatever produce he could find growing in the ground before he would allow that. And why did these people have to ask for food? Any Rownt could go to the Grandmothers and seek food. Their status would suffer, perhaps irrevocably, but they would not go hungry.

Unless they chose to in order to maintain status.  As ye-ranked, Ondry had gone hungry often. Now, with a palteia, he would make a different choice if he found himself in that situation.

“Why do the adults not take their offspring elsewhere?” Ondry asked. At his question, the female made a short, sharp sound of distress.

“Rownt sounds like growls all the time. He’s not angry,” Liam hurried to assure her before offering a translation.  “He’s asking about how easily a person can travel to take a job somewhere else. How many of the people who have lived here over the years do you think have left the city?”

“I can’t say for sure, but I think most people live wherever they're born and that’s it, at least if they’re poor.  My grandmother used to talk about the public transportation system, but that went away during the war and I don’t think anyone has even considered building it back up.” She wrinkled her nose as if this were some small issue, a minor inconvenience.  Ondry paled in horror.

“Individuals must seek profits where they can be found. An adult cannot stay in one place and expect profit to find him,” Ondry said. Of course, some professions such as farmers rarely moved unless something major forced them to rebuild their business elsewhere, but most adults he knew would happily move to find a place with better profits or more children being born or better weather. Ondry had been under the impression that human elders often chose a final home based on prevalent weather conditions, but this female made him question that impression.

Liam answered in English. “Without resources to move, most adults don’t have a choice.”

“To say the least,” the female with unfortunate hair said. “But that’s why we provide the computers for online training. If a parent can learn a new trade, they have a chance to move somewhere better.”  She continued down the hallway to a second heavy metal door to a large room.  Perhaps it was intended to function as a temple did in the ship–a central gathering place for discussion.  It had a large number of couches and seats which hinted at such a function. However, it was devoid of any comfort or beauty that would make spending time in such a place enjoyable.

“What if children require food?” Ondry asked.

The female looked to Liam for translation.  “He wants to know what you would do if a child came in here looking for food, just food.”

She appeared confused. “We would direct them to have their parents come in. If the parents needed shelter, we would try to accommodate them. If they were underhoused, we would try to connect them to a charity that would help them keep their housing.”

“Underhoused?” Liam asked.

“Sometimes families are sleeping in basements or attics or on the floors of family homes, and the family members get tired of housing them. There are charities that will help them pay some nominal rent so they don’t end up on the streets.”

“Humans are both more charitable and more cruel than I expected,” Ondry said. They treated each other as if every human carried a seed of paletia. Ondry could not imagine allowing someone to stay on the floor of his home, even if they were genetically related. He had earned space, and having others near him would drive him to violence. On the other hand, humans allowed each other to live in conditions that Ondry would never accept. And if he thought another had even a seed of a palteia within, he would see that the individual had a better life than this charity seemed to provide.

“Is that a good or bad noise?” the female asked as she inched away from Ondry.

“Neither,” Liam said.  “Rownt don’t understand charity toward adults.  A Rownt adult would have to fend for himself, so the idea of giving them a place to live doesn’t make sense. But Rownt are very protective of children, so the idea of children living in these conditions horrifies him,” Liam said. While that was not entirely accurate, Liam had stated Ondry’s position well enough that he felt no need to correct the details.

Her expression turned mournful. “The children are the worst. They don’t deserve any of this.” For the first time, Ondry could see that she didn’t like the setup, even if she had been enthusiastic in praise of how many families they housed. Perhaps she thought that best to get donations, and if children required mattresses or food, it was honorable to do whatever was necessary to obtain those. Ondry just didn’t understand why the adults were not out here to provide such arguments.

“What if a child is hungry but does not require housing?” Ondry asked.

Liam repeated the question in English.

She frowned and seemed to think about that for a time. “I might call social services if I think they’re in trouble. Orphanages are better than they used to be, and younger kids almost always find a foster family where they’ll be fed. They aren’t like they used to be.”  Her gaze skittered away like a prey animal, so Ondry assumed the topic discomforted her.

Ondry was more than discomforted. The idea of having someone take his child horrified him. Even if an adult could not provide and had to relinquish all status, the temple would not separate a parent and child.

“But what if the parents are doing their best and the children just need a little supplementary food?” Liam asked.  Ondry wondered if he asked for Ondry’s sake or if he was unaware of the information himself. It had been many years since Liam had lived in poverty on Earth.

The female shook her head. “We can’t serve children without their parents being present.”

Ondry did not understand the human habit of preventing children from developing independence. At least the parents in that abandoned building had arranged for the children to be productive and explore the world. They were locked behind a heavy door—excluded from the world.

“The offspring we saw downtown were in a better area than this,” Ondry said. Liam nodded without answering.  Now that Ondry had seen the charities that served families, he understood why those adults kept their children hidden downtown. This part of the city was dirty and unpleasant in ways the trading areas were not.  There children could run in parks or take fruit from the trees planted along the roads, assuming those trees fruited given that most appeared rather underdeveloped and scrawny.

“So, did you have any other questions?” she asked. The earlier enthusiasm had returned. Even for a human, she was an odd female.

“No, you’ve been very helpful,” Liam said.

She gestured toward the door they had come in before starting to walk that way. A small child with red-brown hair came out a door and stood staring at Ondry with wide eyes.  He wished he had his trading cart so he could allow her to steal, but he did not.  He did not even have human currency. So he had to follow the female and Liam as they headed back to the front.

“Is there any chance you can donate? Any amount would help,” the female said.

Liam looked apologetic and even held his hands low as though he were placating an unhappy trading partner. “I wish we could, and the Rownt may send some gifts for the children, but it is not in Rownt culture to support adults. They believe adults must support themselves.”

The woman frowned at Ondry in clear disapproval. “And if they cannot?”

“If it’s a case of injury, the temple will support them for a time, but otherwise…” Liam winced.

The female’s expression turned angry and she narrowed her eyes at Ondry. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then she closed it, words unspoken. Her disapproval was still evident, but Ondry found he did not care. Human and Rownt were incompatible in some ways, and this “charity” was one example of it.  Ondry wasn’t sure how he could explain any of this to the Grandmothers without triggering a rage.

No doubt Liam would be better to explain such truths.  He could explain the situation while doing a better job of reminding the Grandmothers that human children would not thrive if treated like Rownt. Human children were not as independent, and they required a pack. Perhaps that explained the reason for Liam’s hesitance around children. He had never had a human pack that supported him.

Liam spent so much time explaining how adults needed emotional support from an extended family, yet he and Ondry had only one another. Did he fear that a child would not have enough emotional connections? That would be valid if they took in a human child, but Ondry had always assumed they would have a Rownt eggling when the time came. Perhaps he should address the issue with Liam.