Past Participle
"It is time, Truti'tsakon", announced Beyda'amo solemnly, the day after his partner had filled in a very large gap in Trudy's Na'vi education.
"Time for what?" asked Trudy. It was far too early for rational thought, especially as the Na'vi had no equivalent of coffee, and Beyda'amo had dragged her out of her hammock well before dawn. That was the one thing she really missed about being human - the first sip of freshly brewed coffee in the morning. And her iPod. She really missed not having her music on tap, but her player was toast in the remains of her Samson. Beyda'amo had shown her the wreck on one of their extended hunting excursions, and she was amazed she managed to survive the crash. There was nothing left but a pile of twisted metal and melted plastic. Not that she had really survived – not as a human.
She was idly wondering if it was possible to upload her music into Eywa. Her playlist should still be on the system at Hell's Gate. When she was through training, she could go and see the humans and ask Max if he could develop an interface to Eywa. He was supposed to be some hotshot on electronic interfaces to organic brains. Surely Eywa would enjoy having access to centuries' worth of human music. Then all she would have to do to listen would be to hook up to a willow tree, and she could have surround sound inside her head. The only problem then would be that the Na'vi didn't run off wireless. If Max could do that as well, she would...well she would be very grateful.
"Time to pass your trial as a taronyu, a hunter," said Beyda'amo, his voice rather testy at her lack of attention.
"Oh," she said disinterestedly, wondering what the Earthside music industry would think about having their music copied into a worldwide living network – without receiving royalties. She giggled briefly at the thought, when she suddenly realised what her teacher had said. "Oh!" she exclaimed.
"I am glad you have decided to join the ranks of the living," said Beyda'amo drily. "It would be preferable if you could remain awake when we climb to the ikran rookery. I am sure it would distress Toruk Makto if I let you fall, and I would have to spend much time making a worthy death-song for such a foolish woman, time that I would rather spend hunting."
Trudy's face went hot with embarrassment. "I am sorry, Beyda'amo. I was not properly awake, and not paying attention. It will not happen again."
"Good," he replied succinctly.
On the direhorse ride to Iknimaya, silence reigned, where previously the warrior would have spent the time relentlessly grilling Trudy on her knowledge. Eventually, she felt impelled to ask, "Have I offended you, Beyda'amo? You do not speak."
He grinned at her. "I was wondering when you would gather the courage to ask, skxawng," he replied. "No, you have not offended me."
"Why do you not test me?" she continued.
His answer was typical of the man. "You know all that I can teach you. The rest you must learn for yourself."
That would be right – he was a stern advocate of the 'throw them in the deep end' method of teaching. If they survive, well and good, if they drown, well, they were never going to learn in the first place.
He continued, "I saw the four layabouts were sporting a new set of bruises last night."
Trudy said nothing.
"It is good that you were strong enough to teach them a lesson in politeness," he said. "They are even more skxawng than you are."
"Would they really have..." she didn't finish the question.
"No. To engage in play without the consent of the young woman is to risk expulsion from the clan," he said. "Marali told me of your questions last night. It is good that you seek to understand us and become true Na'vi."
The word he used for 'play' she had not heard before, and she was pretty sure it didn't mean playing children's games."I thought the Na'vi mated for life," she said cautiously.
"You are right," said Beyda'amo. "But there is much playing before a man and a woman choose and mate before Eywa. Very few make the decision to make tsahaylu as quickly as Jake'sully and Ney'tiri."
"What of one like Ableryder?" asked Trudy. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought, and as long as the big lug was talking about relationships, she would try to find out as much as she could. It would save her from making more skxawng-like mistakes in the long run.
He gave her a searching look. "You are not like the Ni'awve Mokri. I have seen you admiring the young men."
Well, there were a number of times in Flight School with some of the girls, she thought, her face heating again. But Na'vi men – they all looked so damn hot. There was so much eye-candy on display living amongst the Tipani was like rooming with a troupe of male strippers. Sometimes she didn't know where to look.
Beyda'amo nodded. "Do not worry. Many young women play amongst themselves before they start considering the young men as mates. It is normal."
Damn. Her face must be as transparent as glass.
"But no-one teases Ableryder," she said. "All the Tipani respect her, and give her deference, even though she was a human and a dreamwalker, and a lover of women." There was no word for lesbian in Na'vi, so she had to improvise.
"Not only is she Ni'awve Mokri, she is also the strongest warrior of the Tipani," said Beyda'amo. At Trudy's look of disbelief, he added without any trace of false modesty, "Yes, even greater than I. It is my greatest shame that when she came to us that I rejected her, and it was only after Ableryder became Ni'awve Mokri that I truly Saw her courage and skill, and her love for Eywa."
He added solemnly, "It is sad that she cannot find her life-mate amongst the Na'vi, for her heart is already given."
Trudy nodded. "She told me of the loss of her lover Kiki on Earth."
The warrior gave an ironic bark of laughter, and said, "You are truly skxawng, Truti'tsakon. You See less than a rock."
Unnoticed, they had arrived at the end of the trail. It was time to start climbing to Iknimaya.