Read Online My Life: An Ex-Quarterback's Adventures in the Galactic Empire by Colin Alexander - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Colin Alexander
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hadn’t been laid. I must confess that in spite of Angel’s enthusiasm for Imperial hookers, I really hadn’t had the urge just then, so it was only three of four categories I felt gypped on. There was some good to it though. Angel made quite a story out of our tiff with the Carrillacki when we were back on the ship and that seemed to improve my standing with the crew. As you may have guessed, in Angel’s version, we got laid.
Chapter 5
I t didn’t take long, just a day out of Orgumuni, before my command of the language got me into trouble. In spite of the way it sounds, it wasn’t my mouth that did it. The Teacher was very good at what it was constructed to do, and I was quite fluent. It was not a colloquialism or improperly stressed syllable that almost killed me. It was body language.
Just consider how much we communicate without words. A phrase may have two or more different meanings depending on the facial expression, hand gestures and so forth that accompany it. Unlike sounds, which can be arranged in an endless number of ways, there is a finite number of gestures and expressions. The obvious result is that individuals from different cultures can have different spoken languages while using the same body language. The problem is that the meaning of the gestures varies from culture to culture. There are real differences, for instance, in the hand signals for hitchhiking between the United States and Europe, and those are areas with a lot more in common than the Earth and the empire. You can easily see the potential for disaster.
I had just finished my day meal in the ship’s mess. Srihani custom is two meals a day, a large one in midmorning, which is the day meal and then a smaller night meal about the time we would have supper. I dumped my utensils and plates into the hopper, turned around and smacked right into a Srihani named Kolgorinn. The meal had been a stew. Kolgorinn had a large tureen of it and the contact caused him to fumble it. He grabbed for it twice as it hung in midair, but his efforts only batted it from side to side. The stew splashed all over Kolgorinn, and a considerable area of the floor besides. The Srihani stood there dripping sticky stuff while ripples of laughter ran around the room.
“You dolt,” he hissed. “You can clean up this mess and then bring me my meal in the bunkroom.”
Under other circumstances, I would have been very apologetic and cleaned it up, whether I was asked or not. Kolgorinn, however, took the most pleasure in baiting me. He was a large, ugly Srihani with hints of Neanderthal lineage in his face. Only a servant would bring a meal to someone in their sleeping quarters. I had no intention of allowing Kolgorinn to put me in that position. Besides, I’d had as much shit from him as I was going to take.
“Do it yourself,” I said. Then I blew him a kiss and turned around to leave.
The roar that followed was only partially Kolgorinn’s rage. From the rest of the room came the same kind of cheer crowds use to greet the start of a game. I had been planning to create a public scene with one of the bullies for some time, but I’d intended to rig it so that I’d be able to handle the consequences. When Kolgorinn baited me, I had planned to be flip and leave him standing there. Unfortunately, I went beyond that. What I had done was the local equivalent of the Italian salute and, coupled with the phrase, it implied something obscene done with one’s mother. I’d just challenged Kolgorinn to a fight, no two ways about it. That was my first mistake. My second was that in focusing on Kolgorinn, I’d forgotten where the door was. I had thought it was behind me, which was why I turned around. In fact, it was past Kolgorinn.
I turned back to find myself confronting one very angry Srihani. He was a real behemoth. I’d have loved to have him for a nose tackle on our defense. He was also directly between me and the exit from the mess. When I didn’t move immediately,
Chapter 5
I t didn’t take long, just a day out of Orgumuni, before my command of the language got me into trouble. In spite of the way it sounds, it wasn’t my mouth that did it. The Teacher was very good at what it was constructed to do, and I was quite fluent. It was not a colloquialism or improperly stressed syllable that almost killed me. It was body language.
Just consider how much we communicate without words. A phrase may have two or more different meanings depending on the facial expression, hand gestures and so forth that accompany it. Unlike sounds, which can be arranged in an endless number of ways, there is a finite number of gestures and expressions. The obvious result is that individuals from different cultures can have different spoken languages while using the same body language. The problem is that the meaning of the gestures varies from culture to culture. There are real differences, for instance, in the hand signals for hitchhiking between the United States and Europe, and those are areas with a lot more in common than the Earth and the empire. You can easily see the potential for disaster.
I had just finished my day meal in the ship’s mess. Srihani custom is two meals a day, a large one in midmorning, which is the day meal and then a smaller night meal about the time we would have supper. I dumped my utensils and plates into the hopper, turned around and smacked right into a Srihani named Kolgorinn. The meal had been a stew. Kolgorinn had a large tureen of it and the contact caused him to fumble it. He grabbed for it twice as it hung in midair, but his efforts only batted it from side to side. The stew splashed all over Kolgorinn, and a considerable area of the floor besides. The Srihani stood there dripping sticky stuff while ripples of laughter ran around the room.
“You dolt,” he hissed. “You can clean up this mess and then bring me my meal in the bunkroom.”
Under other circumstances, I would have been very apologetic and cleaned it up, whether I was asked or not. Kolgorinn, however, took the most pleasure in baiting me. He was a large, ugly Srihani with hints of Neanderthal lineage in his face. Only a servant would bring a meal to someone in their sleeping quarters. I had no intention of allowing Kolgorinn to put me in that position. Besides, I’d had as much shit from him as I was going to take.
“Do it yourself,” I said. Then I blew him a kiss and turned around to leave.
The roar that followed was only partially Kolgorinn’s rage. From the rest of the room came the same kind of cheer crowds use to greet the start of a game. I had been planning to create a public scene with one of the bullies for some time, but I’d intended to rig it so that I’d be able to handle the consequences. When Kolgorinn baited me, I had planned to be flip and leave him standing there. Unfortunately, I went beyond that. What I had done was the local equivalent of the Italian salute and, coupled with the phrase, it implied something obscene done with one’s mother. I’d just challenged Kolgorinn to a fight, no two ways about it. That was my first mistake. My second was that in focusing on Kolgorinn, I’d forgotten where the door was. I had thought it was behind me, which was why I turned around. In fact, it was past Kolgorinn.
I turned back to find myself confronting one very angry Srihani. He was a real behemoth. I’d have loved to have him for a nose tackle on our defense. He was also directly between me and the exit from the mess. When I didn’t move immediately,
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