He was tired; he was frustrated; he missed his family and clan and home. Now this, a physical barrier greater than any they had yet encountered. Looking up and down the channel, he could see no sign of shallows that might be waded. Swim or make a craft: those were their only two choices, and the first of them was not viable. Not for any creature with a shred of intelligence remaining.
“Might as well camp here for the night. It’s early, but we’re not going anywhere until morning.” Advancing through the rain, Hasa began the search for a suitable site.
Nothing fazes the human, Jemunu-jah thought. No obstacle, no danger. Yet there was no denying that the furless biped possessed common sense as well as intelligence. So much effort, not for clan or mula, but in the pursuit of Commonwealth credit. Was Hasa civilized or just smart? Jemunu-jah was beginning to think that the two did not necessarily go together.
As he turned to one side, Masurathoo caught his eye. The Deyzara’s plan was typically devious. The Sakuntala were more direct. Yet Jemunu-jah could not see himself killing the human merely because they disagreed on what course to take. He was more inclined to kill the Deyzara simply to shut him up. Briefly, he considered killing both of them. That would leave him alone in the depths of the southern Viisiiviisii. It was better to have companions, even if one talked so much it made his ears hurt and the other dripped contempt the way a horulia shrub shed water.
“Remember what we discussed,” Masurathoo was whispering to him out of his fully extended speaking trunk. “Have you come to a decision?”