Mort - language

The woman said: “Why does the demon show his teeth, husband of my life?”

The man said: “It could be hunger, moon of my desire. Pile on more fish!”

And the ancestor grumbled: “I was eating that, wretched child. Woe unto the world when there is no respect for age!”

Now the fact is that while the words entered Mort’s ear in their spoken Klatchian, with all the curlicues and subtle diphthongs of a language so ancient and sophisticated that it had fifteen words meaning “assassination” before the rest of the world had caught on to the idea of bashing one another over the head with rocks, they arrived in his brain as clear and understandable as his mother tongue.

“I’m no demon! I’m a human!” he said, and stopped in shock as his words emerged in perfect Klatch.

***

Mort p49