Cri Sawyes drew a curved line in the dirt and then crossed it, “...then the buildingsss I sssaw from the air are here.” He drew a square toward the end of the crosspiece. “They could be asss near asss three kilometers or asss far asss five.” “If this is a wilderness preserve, why are there buildings at all?” The nose filters the di’Taykan had been forced to wear made Lieutenant Jarret’s voice sound flat and angry. It was a good question, though. Since the lines in the dirt were telling Torin nothing much, she looked up at Cri Sawyes. “I have no idea.” The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?” “I’m not from around here.” His tongue flicked out. When neither the two officers nor the three NCOs squatting around the crude map seemed to appreciate the humor, he expanded his explanation. “Sssome of what we Sssilsssvisss do isss bound by biology and therefore relatively ssstandard planet-wide. All our young malesss are sssegregated until hormonal balance isss achieved and they—we—are able to control our aggresssion.
