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"If you are ready, Brother, we should begin." Brother, not ruhar. Tarlac smiled at that human touch. "Yeah. Let's not waste time." Then he remembered. "Hey, what about Jim? The Empire can't afford to lose two Rangers at once now less than ever." "No," Kranath agreed. "He is still in critical condition, but Ranger Medart will recover fully." "Thank God!" Tarlac exclaimed reflexively.
He didn't know whether it was proper or not, but it shouldn't hurt to be polite; he gave her the respectful crossed-arm bow. It didn't. He heard approving comments, then she said one of the few things he understood: "You do me honor, ruhar," and traded drinks and touches. Tarlac had no time to reply before he had to greet the rest of what he could only think of as Hovan's immediate family.
He tapped the white tabs on his collar. "This you concerns, Steve. Some clan must you adopt, and I Ch'kara offer. It not the biggest clan is, or richest, but never has it dishonored been. You will as one of us treated be, if you Ch'kara choose, and I will as your Ordeal sponsor stand." Tarlac stopped, looking up at the serious gray face.
It wasn't so much nutritional deficiencies as protein incompatibility and allergic reactions. With the exception of the Traiti wine, that didn't apply on Homeworld, as two weeks' experience proved, and Tarlac was extremely curious about the reason. Well, if he ever got back to the Empire, he'd recommend that such a study be made.
At the moment, however, he had work to do. For a moment, Tarlac felt strange back in his own body. He moved his shoulders, trying to readjust almost as if he were trying to get a new shirt to fit properly. What he'd just experienced hadn't been a dream, he was certain. Four thousand Homeworld years ago, it had happened. The facts were enough to stagger him.
He wondered why his human ruhar had started to say "Terran" and switched in mid-word to "human." Steve spoke informally, but he was careful of his words; why was he making such a distinction now? Tarlac had caught Hovan's look of surprise at the word change, and had a shrewd idea of his sponsor's thoughts.
Then he started pulling Tarlac's uniform shirt off, trying not to get sick as the wounds were exposed. When he had it about halfway off, the Ranger stirred. Tarlac woke slowly, aware at first only that he was laying on something hard and that he hurt all over. He shifted, trying to get comfortable, but a hand on his shoulder restrained him.
"If you'll provide escorts and transportation?" "Done, Lord," the Supreme said promptly. "They will be at the Hermnaen by daybreak, as the First Speaker and I will. By your leave, then?" Both rulers bowed formally and held that attitude. "Granted," Tarlac said. As they straightened, preparing to leave, he turned back to Jason. "Dismissed, Doctor."
Hovan's long strides didn't give Tarlac much time to study art on the way to the dining area, but he saw more than he had earlier, since he was no longer surrounded by bodies. The new data didn't change his initial impression, but he had already started to adapt to the Madonna pictures that'd disturbed him.
"Yes, sir," Tarlac admitted, unable to repress a smile and a rueful headshake. "A moment ago Lord Kranath told me you were close to the truth and asked me what I intended to do about it. Absolutely nothing, except to ask you not to make it official. If I'm being so obvious, too many people may pick up on it anyway." "It wasn't obvious, except to someone who knows you well.
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