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He fumbled in the capacious folds of his cloak for his papers. His voice sounded shrill, even to himself. "Bartol son of Berihun in respectful greeting, rieko mori." Unmistakably, Vorongil's snort was laughter. "So you've been talking, Ringg?" Ringg retorted, "Better that I tell one man than that you have to hunt the planet over or run the long haul with the drive-room watches short by one man."
"Sure," Tommy exclaimed, "we've got to celebrate," but Bart stopped, looking past them. "Captain Vorongil!" he said, and went to greet the old Lhari. "I thought you'd hate me, rieko mori." The term of respect fell naturally from his lips. "I did, for a time," Vorongil said quietly. "But I remembered the day we stood on Lharillis, by the monument.
Bart felt like cringing as they came out into the street full of Lhari; but Raynor Three whispered, "Attack is the best defense," and went up to one of the Lhari. "What's going on, rieko mori?" "A passenger on the ship got away without going through Decontam. He may spread disease, so of course we have alerted all authorities," the Lhari said. As the Lhari strode past, Raynor Three grimaced.
As far as I'm concerned, it still is real." Ringg was still bending over Meta's hand when Vorongil came into the cabin. He started to speak, then noticed Ringg. "I might have known," he growled, "if there was anything to find out, you'd find it." "Shall I go, rieko mori?" "No, stay. You'll find it out some way or other, you might as well get it right the first time.
Bart had an absurd, painful impulse to blurt out the incredible truth to Vorongil, and try to get the old Lhari to understand what he was doing. But fear held him silent. He was alone, one small human in a ship of Lhari. Vorongil was frowning at him, and Bart mumbled, "It's nothing, rieko mori." "I suppose you're pining for home," Vorongil said kindly. "Well, it won't be long now."
You worked your way outward on this run, and the High Council didn't see fit to erase those memories or inhibit them. Why should I? Do you want it or not?" Did he want it? Until this moment Bart had not identified the worst of his pain and defeat to travel as a passenger, a supercargo, when he had once been part of the Swiftwing. Literally he ached to be back with it again. "I do, rieko mori."
Meta gasped and ran to unlock the door, stood back as the medic and the Second Officer came in, staggering under Ringg's weight. Carefully, they put him into a bunk. The medic straightened, shaking his crest. "Did you get that wrist taken care of, Bartol?" Meta stepped between Bart and the officer, reaching for a roll of bandage. "I'm working on it now, rieko mori," she said.
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