Masurathoo snorted through his eating trunk. “If we can reach it, and if they have any means of communication with civilization. Those few isolated communities to which you refer are most unlikely to be found, sir, in this unvisited and unmapped portion of the Viisiiviisii. They might just as well decide you are a hereditary enemy, that we are your friends, and choose to have us for dinner—as courses and not guests.”
Jemunu-jah bridled at the insult but said nothing. He could not, because he knew the two-trunk’s words to be true. There were still large areas of Fluva the Commonwealth presence had not yet touched. Were still cousins who lived according to the old ways.
“I prefer take chance with Sakuntala meat eaters than with those that dwell in forest. At least can talk to former.”
Hooting derisively, Masurathoo struggled to descend to the larger branch below. They were traveling very close to the water now. The stagnant rain-spattered surface was only a few meters below the branch they were presently traversing. All manner of ferocious organisms dwelled in that water, he knew, hatching out of the dry ground and maturing rapidly as soon as the rains began to fall and the forest to flood. Many lurked just beneath the surface, waiting hungrily for food to fall from the trees. A considerable number were vegetarians. Those that were not—he shuddered—those that were not were best encountered in harmless education vits or in museums. They were a varied and impressive lot, inspiring in the many different ways of killing they had evolved.