“What’s the matter?”
Julius looked at her and sighed.
“I’m going to have to make another marker.”
“What’s wrong with this one?”
Julius shook his head. “He was a complete jackass the whole time I knew him, except for the last few minutes of his life. But that made up for everything.”
The next day he erected a new marker. The only change was the name: Doctor Francis Adams.
The one positive development, thought Julius, was that he would finally be able to dissect a pseudo-cephalopod. But, again, he was frustrated.
“They want to what?” he demanded.
“They insist on burying them,” said Indira. “And they’re upset at the idea of harming them further.”
“The things are already dead!”
Indira shrugged. “The owoc don’t look at it the same way. They’re quite insistent, Julius.”
Inevitably, Julius lost the argument.
“I just don’t get it,” he grumbled, after the mass burial of the invaders. “Why should the owoc care what happens to the damn things? They’re hereditary enemies. Carnivores, to boot.”
Indira glared at him, fists planted on her hips.
“Is that so? The great biologist Julius Cohen has already analyzed the situation in every detail. The new creatures are carnivores, therefore—therefore what? I can remember you giving a different speech a few years ago.”
Julius looked uncomfortable. “Well, I’m not claiming I understand everything about the watchamacallits. But I know a savage enemy when I see one!”
“Really? Such a brilliant mind. Let me ask you something, O great one. What was the relationship between the Amish and the Nazis?”
Julius frowned. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Really? How strange. A minute ago you had all the answers. I’ll give you a hint—it’s obvious.”
Julius was still frowning. Indira snorted.
“They were both members of the human race. So, according to your logic, it would make sense to kill Amish because they belonged to the same species as the Nazis. Am I right?”
Julius hemmed and hawed, but Indira had him cold and he knew it.
She reinforced her point a few days later, after talking to the owoc.
“They’re as unclear as they usually are, but there’s no question that they don’t think all of the—they’re called gukuy, by the way—are the same. The owoc say that many of the gukuy—most of them, I get the impression—are dangerous and dreadful. But there are others whom the owoc seem to think rather highly of.”
“Which others? And how can you tell the difference?”
Indira shrugged.
“That’s great,” muttered Julius. “That’s just great.”
* * *
Within a few months, the issue was resolved. And it became clear that the difference between “good” and “bad” gukuy was not all that difficult to determine.
Before that time came, however, the colony went through a major social transformation.
The transformation occurred on two levels. On one level, the change was simple—the colony readopted Hector’s military organization, with a vengeance. To Julius Cohen’s great satisfaction.
The more significant change, however, he greeted with much less pleasure.
“Do you mean to tell me I’m fired?” he demanded, goggle-eyed.
Indira gazed at him patiently.
“I wouldn’t put it that way, dear. I think of it as a necessary and beneficial transition in leadership.”
“They’re too young! Immature!”
“Really?” demanded Indira. “Then explain to me why they were the ones who—” She stopped abruptly.
Julius winced; looked away.
“Who saved the day. While yours truly, the great leader, tripped all over his feet and ran around like a chicken with its head cut off.”
Indira’s eyes softened. She reached out a hand and stroked his cheek.
“You were very brave, Julius. I was proud of you. And I saw no resemblance to a chicken whatsoever.”
Julius puffed out his cheeks, exhaled noisily. His lopsided grin appeared.
“Nevertheless, it’s true I didn’t cut the most glorious martial figure.”
He thought it over for a moment, then nodded his head.
“I suppose you’re right. Joseph would make a better Captain. Or Ludmilla.”
“Yes, they would. Much better, to be honest with you. But that’s not even my main concern. The heart of the problem isn’t military, it’s social. And it doesn’t just involve you, it involves me as well. All of us.”