for that sort of thing, and the shame just made it worse. I tried and tried to force it back, but it was just too big and strong and overwhelming and flowed through me like an unstoppable river. I wailed like a baby, to be completely honest, alternately feeling sorry for myself and terrible about dragging Mr. Li into the mess as well.
Once I was nearly recovered, I remembered Linda the hotel manager who I'd gotten in such terrible trouble. She was going to be arrested simply because I'd talked to her! That was the most awful thing I'd ever done to anyone, I decided; what a miserable piece of human garbage I was! And so the tears began anew and went on and on, until finally sometime well after midnight I was all cried out . . .
. . . and still too keyed up to sleep! I rolled from side to back to other-side to stomach, but it did no good. Then I moaned at how awful tomorrow was going to be, having to figure out all sorts of new rules and alien-stuff without even having gotten any sleep. Without Mom and Dad's help, either.
That got me thinking about Mr. Li again. Who was this guy, really? He was all I had besides Tim, and he seemed nice enough. But he'd been awfully quick to turn Linda in. After, I reminded myself, she'd spat in his face and called him a collaborator. Which he was, really. Just like Dad and everyone else trying to live up to the terms of the Treaty. But Dad was no turncoat, of that I was certain. He'd never have given up, except that we'd all have surely died. When the only choice was for everyone everywhere to die, well . . . admitting defeat and becoming part of the government enforcing a cruel treaty was no shame. Yes, Mr. Li had done some really strange stuff so far. Yet somehow I knew Linda was wrong—like Dad, my tutor was doing what had to be done for the good of everyone, even when it hurt him. Even before he'd used Mom's favorite formula to send us to bed, in my heart I'd been sure he was one of the good guys.
Now it was two in the morning; the clock by my bed said so, even though the time didn't seem real somehow. I couldn't ever remember being awake at two AM before. It was an unreal time, one I'd heard about but never actually experienced. Which made sense, I supposed, since I lived on a ranch out in the middle of nowhere. But then I'd never been held hostage before, never been abandoned (however unwillingly) by my parents in the name of the greater good of humanity and forced to smile at a smelly alien and call him "Beloved Uncle." I was in for a whole series of new experiences, apparently. And so far they sucked, sucked, sucked!
Then I was weeping again, broken inside and ashamed to be broken and wanting to be strong and tall but still too young to be anything more than a snot-nosed boy whose world was falling apart at least as completely as that of any other boy before him. It wasn't something I rationally thought through; before I knew it my door was open and I was running down a blurry hallway in bare feet. At a touch, the only door with a human face waiting behind it swung open. Then I was dashing through the dark toward the bed in the back, praying that Timmy hadn't seen me making such a babyish fool of myself.
But I needn't have feared. For there Tim already was, on his knees with his arms clamped around Mr. Li, sobbing his heart out. I knelt down as well and buried my face into the freakishly-muscular man's torso next to that of my brother.
"It's going to be all right," Li reassured us over and over again, and the words helped even though we all knew they were a lie. "We're going to see this thing through, despite everything. We'll come out on top.
"Or at the very least, someone somewhere is going to answer for this atrocity. I swear it!"
10
"So," Uncle Rapput declared just before lunch the next day, looking first Tim and then me directly in the eyes. "I understand you two had a rough time last night?"
Mr. Li answered for us, which I was glad of. The last person in the universe I wanted to admit a weeping fit to was Uncle Rapput, though I wasn't quite sure why. "It was separation anxiety, sir," he explained. "This is commonplace among our young under far less stressful circumstances than these. Indeed, further bouts are to be expected. Thank you for allowing them to sleep in."
The big alien nodded. "Our own youngsters are vulnerable to the same sorts of developmental issues, though mostly among the lower clans." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "In a way, I suppose what we're doing here might even be seen by some who don’t understand the grand plan for the greater good as capricious, or perhaps even cruel." He frowned. "You have my standing permission to excuse them from family meals and other such activities, Li, whenever you feel they're not up to it. At least for the first few months. We'll revisit the issue if this privilege is employed to excess."
Li bowed. "I'm grateful for your trust."
Rapput speared a pork chop with his eating-knife and chewed on it thoughtfully. "Tell me about yourself, Li," he said. 'I've read your file, yet there's still much I don't understand about you. For example, you weren't born an English-speaker. So how do your loyalties come to be to that tribe? You're not even physically akin to them."
He smiled and half-bowed in his seat. "I was born in North Korea," he explained. "Not at all a pleasant place, I assure you. When I was fourteen, my father—who held a privileged position as a high-ranking military officer—was able to defect to the South."
"Defect?" Rapput asked, clearly unfamiliar with the term. "They judged your family somehow defective and drove you out?"
"The word has different meanings in different contexts, sir. In this case, to 'defect' means to leave one human-type clan for another without the permission of the clan that's being left."
Rapput's mouth dropped open. "Is such a thing even possible?" he demanded. “I’ve read that humans switch clans as one changes robes, but . . ."
"Our history has shown that it's difficult to keep humans in a clan they have no desire to be part of," Li explained. He bowed again. "Of course, your own kind do things differently."
"Of course," Rapput agreed, though he was still visibly upset. "Our ways are stable and in keeping with the core principles of tradition and honor. Over time, your own species will come to understand. Besides, you were still but a boy and therefore in no way responsible for any breach of social order." He smiled. "Continue, please."
"I proved . . . an able student, especially in languages. My mother had a gift for them, and apparently the trait bred true. And I also loved to wrestle. Soon after winning the silver medal you're familiar with, I began my academic studies in earnest in Chicago, a large North American city. I found myself feeling very much at home there, so eventually I became a US citizen."
"You defected a second time?" Rapput demanded.
"Oh, no!" Li explained. "South Korea and the United States were, at that time, close military and economic partners. Both parties approved of and applauded my change of, er . . . clan." He pressed his lips together. "I fear I don't know any Artemu words I can use to explain."
"That's because they don't exist," Rapput mused. Then he looked at my brother and I. "Except for hostage-adoptees, of course."
Li pursed his lips, thinking. "Perhaps that's not so far from what I was. Except that it was strictly voluntary, of course. In fact, the United States was notorious for attracting clan-changers. As were several other countries, of course. We're in one of them now."
My uncle sipped at his drink again. While he consumed an awful lot of human food, this was something from his homeworld and it smelled like hot motor oil. "It's madness. Sheer madness! But as you say, Dr. Li, what you did was judged honorable by your kind. And we'd not arrived yet, so it's hardly fair to hold your defections prior to that time against you." He took another sip. "You've proven an able and willing servant to date—far easier to work with than most of the English-speaking humans it's been my duty to deal with. This may perhaps be due to your Korean-clan bloodline?”
Li's smile never wavered. "I suspect my North Korean background may indeed be a factor, yes."
Rapput smiled. "So we're not so far apart after all on social-order matters. Excellent! You make me wish that I could spend more time with the Korean tribe. But of course
we Gonthers can relate best to the greatest warrior clan, who so clearly have dominated your world in recent times. The ones who seized an empire upon which the sun never set, and who given more time might've conquered an interstellar sphere every bit as glorious as our own. The English-speakers, in other words. Like Gonther, easily your world's finest race."
I turned toward Tim just as he did the same, and for an instant our eyes met. Neither of us needed to say a word—Dad went on all the time about how superb the soldiers of many nations were. Being special forces himself before he retired, he worked with foreigners a lot. Especially the South Koreans, for some reason. He seemed to admire them most of all.
"A great and honorable people indeed," Li agreed, though he must've been offended. "As I said, I found that I loved them enough to join them." Then he changed the subject. "You mentioned yesterday, sir, that we were to leave Earth today. Yet I have no idea of what the boys have to do to get ready, or even what time we're leaving."
"An oversight," Rapput replied. "My apologies. We depart at five in the afternoon, your time, aboard the same type of courier ship we arrived here on. No further preparations are necessary." He glanced at us again. "Though perhaps it might be well if these two hit the teaching