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some unseen stone made her stumble in the dark。
The going went a little easier with second moonrise。 Backlit by silvery Torgen； the mountains seemed to loom larger than ever。 North…side glaciers drank the satellite's angled light； giving back a peculiar blue luminance。
The Stranger sang for a while； a sweet； soft melody that made Sara think of loneliness。
I am a bar'n island；
apart in the desult sea；
and the nearest skein of land
is my stark thought o' thee。
O' say I were a chondrite；
tumblin' sool an' free；
would you be my garner…boat？
An' e to amass me？
It was Anglic； though of a dialect Sara had never heard； with many strange words。 It was problematical how much the star…man still grasped。 Still； the unrolling verses doubtless roused strong feelings in his mind。
Am I the ice that slakes your thirst；
that twinkles your bright rings？
You are the fantoom angel…kin；
whose kiss gives planets wings。。。
The recital ended when UrKachu trotted back； nostril flaring； to plain about unbearable Earthling caterwauling。 A purely personal opinion； Sara felt； since none of the other urs seemed to mind。 Music was on the short list of things the two races tended to agree about。 Some urs even said that； for bringing the violus to Jijo； they could almost overlook human stench。
For an auntie； UrKachu seemed a particularly irritable sort。
The man from space fell silent； and the group traveled in a moody hush； punctuated by the clip…clop of the animals' hooves on bare stone。
The next blood…stop took place on the wind…sheltered lee side of some towering slabs that might be natural rock forms but in the dimness seemed like ruins of an ancient fortress； toppled in a long…ago calamity。 One of the weathered desert…men gave Sara a chunk of gritty bread； plus a slab of bushcow cheese that was stale； but tasty enough to one who found herself ravenously hungry。 The water ration was disappointing； though。 The urs saw little point in carrying much。
Around midnight； the party had to ford a wide； shallow stream that flowed through a desert wadi。 Always prepared； Ulgor slipped on sealed booties； crossing with dry feet。 The other urrish rebels slogged alongside the humans and animals； then dried each other's legs with rags。 After that； the Urunthai seemed eager to run for a while； till the moisture wicked out of their fibrous ankle fur。
When the pace slackened again； Sara slid off her mount to walk。 Soon a low voice spoke from her right。
〃I meant to tell you…I've read your paper on linguistic devolution from Indo…European。〃
It was the scholar…turned…hunter； Dedinger； striding beyond her donkey's other flank。 She watched him for a long moment before answering。
〃I'm surprised。 At fifty pages； I could afford to get only five photocopies cranked； and I kept one。〃
Dedinger smiled。 〃I still have friends in Biblos who send me engaging items； now and then。 As for your thesis； while I enjoyed your ideas about grammatical reinforcement in pre…literate trading clans； I'm afraid I can't bring myself to accept your general theory。〃
Sara didn't find it surprising。 Her conclusions ran counter to everything the man believed in。
〃That's the way of science…a cycle of give…and…take。 No dogmatic truth。 No rigid； received word。〃
〃As opposed to my own slavish devotion to a few ancient scrolls that no human had a hand in writing？〃 The flinty man laughed。 〃I guess what it es down to is which direction you think people are heading。 Even among conservative Galactics； science is about slowly improving your models of the world。 It's future…oriented。 Your children will know more than you do； so the truth you already have can never be called 'perfect。'
〃That's fine when your destiny lies upward； Sara。 But tradition and a firm creed are preferable if you're embarked on the narrow； sacred road downhill； to salvation。 In that case； argument and uncertainty will only confuse your flock。〃
〃Your flock doesn't seem confused；〃 she acknowledged。
He smiled。 〃I've had some success winning these hard men over to true orthodoxy。 They dwell much of each year on the Plain of Sharp Sand； trapping the wild spike…sloths that lurk in caves； under the dunes。 Most don't read or write； and their few tools are handmade； so they were already far down the Path。 It may prove harder convincing some other groups。〃
〃Like the Explosers Guild？〃
The former scholar nodded。
〃An enigmatic clan。 Their hesitation to do their duty； during this crisis； is disturbing。〃
Sara raised her eyes toward Kurt and Jomah。 While the senior exploser snored atop an ambling donkey； his nephew held another one…sided conversation with the Stranger； who smiled and nodded as Jomah chattered。 The star…man made an ideal； uncritical audience for a shy boy； just beginning to express himself。
〃Maybe they figure they can blow it all up just once；〃 Sara mented。 〃Then they'll have to scratch for a living； like everyone else。〃
Dedinger grunted。 〃If so； it's time someone reminded them； respectfully； of their obligations。〃
She recalled Jop's talk of taking Kurt somewhere to be 〃persuaded。〃 In more violent times； the expression carried chilling implications。
We may be headed back to such times。
The flinty insurgent shook his head。
〃But never mind all that。 I really want to discuss your fascinating paper。 Do you mind？〃
When Sara shrugged； Dedinger continued in an amiable tone； as if they sat in a Biblos faculty lounge。
〃You admit that proto…Indo…European； and many other human mother tongues； were more rigorous and rational than the dialects that evolved out of them。 Right so far？〃
〃According to books carried here by the Tabernacle。 All we have is inherited data。〃
〃And yet you don't see this trend as an obvious sign of decay from perfection？ From original grammars designed for our use by a patron race？〃
She sighed。 There might be weirder things in the universe than holding an abstract chat with her kidnapper under a desert sky； but none came to mind。
〃The structure of those early tongues could have risen out of selective pressure； operating over generations。 Primitive people need rigid grammars； because they lack writing or other means to correct error and linguistic drift。〃
〃Ah yes。 Your analogy to the game of Telephone； in which the language with the highest level of shaman coding…〃
〃That's Shannon coding。 Claude Shannon showed that any message can carry within itself the means to correct errors that creep in during transit。 In a spoken language； this redundancy often es embedded in grammatical rules…the cases； declensions； modifiers； and such。 It's all quite basic information theory。〃
〃Ffm。 Maybe for you。 I confess that I failed to follow your mathematics。〃 Dedinger chuckled dryly。 〃But let's assume you're right about that。 Does not such clever； self…correcting structure prove those early human languages were shrewdly designed？〃
〃Not at all。 The same argument was raised against biological evolution…and later against the notion of self…bootstrapped intelligence。 Some folks have a hard time accepting that plexity can emerge out of Darwinian selection； but it does。〃
〃So you believe…〃
〃That the same thing happened to preliterate languages on Earth。 Cultures with stronger grammars could hang together over greater distances and times。 According to some of the old…timer linguists； Indo…European may have ranged all the way from Europe to Central Asia。 Its rigid perfection maintained culture and trade links over distances far beyond what any person might traverse in a lifetime。 News； gossip； or a good story could travel slowly； by word of mouth； all the way across a continent； arriving centuries later； barely changed。〃
〃Like in the game of Telephone。〃
〃That's the general idea。〃
Sara found herself leaning on the donkey as fatigue prickled her calves and thighs。 Still； it seemed a toss…up…aching muscles if she stayed afoot versus shivering on a bruised coccyx if she remounted。 For the little donkey's sake； she chose to keep walking。
Dedinger had his teeth in the argument。
〃If all you say is true； how can you deny those early grammars were superior to the shabby； disorganized dialects that followed？〃
〃What do you mean； 'superior'？ Whether you're talking about proto…Indo…European； proto…Bantu or proto…Semitic； each language served the needs of a conservative； largely changeless culture of nomads and herders； for hundreds or thousands of years。 But those needs shifted when our ancestors acquired agriculture； metals； and writing。 Progress changed the very notion of what language was for。〃
An expression of earnest confusion briefly softened the man's etched features。
〃Pray； what could language be for； if not to maintain a culture's cohesion and foster munication？〃
That was the question posed by members of Dedinger's former department； who spurned Sara's theory at its first hearing； embarrassing her in front of Sages Bonner； Taine； and Purofsky。 Had not the majestic civilization of the Five Galaxies been refining its twenty or so standard codes since the days of the fabled Progenitors； with a single goal…to promote clear exchange of meaning among myriad citizen races？
〃There is another desirable thing；〃 Sara replied。 〃Another product of language； just as important； in the long run； as cohesion。〃
〃And that is？〃
〃Creativity。 If I'm right； it calls for a different kind of grammar。 A pletely different way of looking at error。〃
〃One that weles error。 Embraces it。〃 Dedinger nodded。 〃This part of your paper I had trouble following。 You say Anglic is better because it lacks redundancy coding。 Because errors and ambiguity creep into every phrase or paragraph。 But how can chaos engender inventiveness？〃
〃By shattering preconceptions。 By allowing illogical； preposterous； even obviously wrong statements to parse in reasonable…sounding expressions。 Like the paradox…'This sentence is a lie'…which can't be spoken grammatically in any formal Galactic tongue。 By putting manifest contradictions on an equal footing with the most time…honored and widely held assumptions； we are tantalized； confused。 Our thoughts stumble out of step。〃
〃This is good？〃
〃It's how creativity works； especially in humans。 For every good idea； ten thousand idiotic ones must first be posed； sifted； tried out； and discarded。 A mind that's afraid to toy with the ridiculous will never e up with the brilliantly original…some absurd concept that future generations will assume to have been 'obvious' all along。
〃One result has been a profusion of new words…a vocabulary vastly greater than ancient languages。 Words for new things； new ideas； new ways of paring and reasoning。〃
Dedinger muttered； 〃And new disasters。 New misunderstandings。〃
Sara nodded； conceding the point。
〃It's a dangerous process。 Earth's bloody past shows how imagination and belief turn into curses unless they're acpanied by critical judgment。 Writing； logic； and experimentation help replace some of the error…correction that used to e embedded in grammar。 Above all； mature people must consider that most unpleasant of all possibilities…that their own favorite doctrines might prove wrong。〃
She watched Dedinger。 Would the man catch on that she had aimed that barb at him？
The exiled pedagogue gave Sara a wry smile。
〃Has it occurred to you； Miss Sara； that your last statement could apply to you and your own beloved hypothesis？〃
Now it was Sara's turn to wince； then laugh aloud。
〃Human nature。 Each of us thinks we know what we're talking about and those disagreeing are fools。 Creative people see Prometheus in a mirror； never Pandora。〃
Dedinger spoke with an ironic edge。 〃Sometimes the torch I carry scorches my fingers。〃
Sara could not tell how much he meant the remark in jest。 Often she found it easier to read the feelings of a boon； or g'Kek； than some members of her own enigmatic race。 Still； she found herself enjoying the conversation； the first of its kind in quite some time。
〃As for trends here on Jijo； just look at the new rhythmic novels being published by some of the northern urrish trib