Read Online A World of Difference by Harry Turtledove - Free Book Online

told them, pointing first at himself and then at them. To emphasize his words, he set his spear on the ground.
    As he had hoped, his speaking when the rest of the males were quiet drew the strange creatures’ attention to him. They turned their eyes his way—which brought on another thought: was that the only direction in which they could see? He decided to worry about it later—it was just one more weirdness among so many. Meanwhile, the creature that was holding the whatever-it-was put it back in the pouch where it had come from. Reatur chose to take that as a good sign.
    The creature held up an arm. Reatur did the same. The creature stuck up one finger. Reatur did the same. “One,” he said. The creatures rumbled a reply. Reatur tried to imitate the noise it made, then said, “One,” again. This time, the creature came out with a rather blurry version of the same word.
    “You were right, clanfather,” Ternat said. “They
are
people—or they aren’t animals, anyway.”
    “No, they aren’t,” Reatur said. “This reminds me of the language lessons we go through whenever a traveler comes from so far away he hasn’t picked up trade talk.”
    The domain-master returned his attention to the creature above him. He hoped the byplay with his eldest had not distracted the thing. Evidently not—it was getting something out of an opening in its mottled hide; something flat and square. The side Reatur could see was plain white.
    The creature came to the edge of the monster’s back. It looked down at Reatur, then surprised him—(as if anything about it were anything but a surprise!)—by bending its legs and stooping. It reached down, holding the flat square out to him.
    “Be careful, clanfather. It might be dangerous,” Ternat said.
    “Thank you for worrying,” Reatur said. He held up an arm just the same. A goodly gap remained between his fingerclaws and the creature’s hand. He waved in invitation, urging it to come down to join him and his males. He wondered if it understoodand wondered what it meant by shaking its head back and forth.
    Refusal, evidently; it did not come down. But it did let the flat square fall. The square thing flipped over and over in the air. Reatur saw that its other side was not just white. There was some kind of design on it, but the thing was turning too fast for him to tell what. He grabbed for it and missed. It fell to the ground. Naturally, it landed with the plain white side on top. He widened so that he could pick it up.
    He turned it over—and almost dropped it in amazement. “The strange thing!” he exclaimed, holding it up so more males could see. It was a picture of the thing he had killed, the thing he and his males had dragged with so much labor back to the castle.
    And what a picture! He had never imagined an artist could draw with such detail. With new respect, he used two eyes to look up at the creatures still standing on the monster, while he used two more to keep examining that incredible image. The creatures had more abilities than monster-riding, it seemed.
    They were watching him, too. They were so peculiar, he realized, that they might not understand that he recognized the strange thing. He pointed at that unbelievable picture, at himself, back to the castle, and at the picture again.
    By their reaction, they understood that. They yelled, leapt about, and hugged one another so tightly Reatur wondered if they were coupling. Then he laughed at himself for his foolishness. They were all about the same size, so they surely were all males. That made sense, he thought. Mates, by their nature, were not travelers.
    Travelers … His thoughts abruptly turned practical. Travelers traveled for a reason. If these—people, he made himself think—were wandering artists, he wondered how much they would want for a portrait of him. No harm trying to find out.
    Tolmasov clicked off the radio with a snarl of frustrated rage. “Not first,” he growled. “That damned