[ To his credit, Calla only twitches slightly when the man reaches for his sword again, though his restraint is more due to conflicting impulses than any real bravery. His programming says it would be rude to a fault to leave mid-conversation. The part of him that is all faultiness, wormed into him by an unknown operator, whispers run.
The ticking regains in volume and speed. ]
What I mean to say, sir, [ Calla says hastily. ] is that I'm not capable of violence. It's— [ A fluttering gesture to the glowing markings adorning his face. ] Beyond me. Not possible. Forbidden.
[ Surely, Calla thinks, one of those synonyms will be comprehensible to the man or suitably quaint for whatever fantasy he's choosing to engage in for the moment. One never can tell with humans whether the issue is stupidity or stubbornness.
Blasphemy again, though by now Calla is losing his patience to be scandalized by such things. ]
no subject
The ticking regains in volume and speed. ]
What I mean to say, sir, [ Calla says hastily. ] is that I'm not capable of violence. It's— [ A fluttering gesture to the glowing markings adorning his face. ] Beyond me. Not possible. Forbidden.
[ Surely, Calla thinks, one of those synonyms will be comprehensible to the man or suitably quaint for whatever fantasy he's choosing to engage in for the moment. One never can tell with humans whether the issue is stupidity or stubbornness.
Blasphemy again, though by now Calla is losing his patience to be scandalized by such things. ]