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Updated: May 15, 2025
Was this man a slave of the Lhari, who would turn him over to them? Or someone he could trust? His own mother had been a Mentorian. "Who are you?" Raynor One's voice was harsh, and gave the impression of being loud, though it was not. "David Briscoe." It was the wrong thing. The Mentorian's mouth was taut, forbidding. "Try again. I happen to know that David Briscoe is dead."
But then the Lhari would detect Montano's ship, and kill Montano and his men. Did he believe that? He had to believe it. It was the only way he could possibly justify what he was doing. And then his chance came, as so many chances do when one no longer wants them. The Second Officer met him at the beginning of one watch, saying worriedly, "Bartol, old Rugel's sick not fit to be on his feet.
Half an hour before the radiation was lethal for the Lhari. Was it already, for him? Shakily, he unfastened the door. He ran out into the glare, seeing as he ran that his badge was tinged with an ever-darkening, gold, orange.... Montano had said there was a safety margin, but maybe he was wrong, maybe all Bart would accomplish would be his own death!
It didn't matter any more. The telling of the story took a long time, and when he finished, Meta's soft small kitten-face was compassionate. "I'm glad you decided what you did," she whispered. "It's what a Mentorian would have done. I know that other races call us slaves of the Lhari. We aren't. We're working in our own way to show the Lhari that human beings can be trusted.
Bart felt himself slip sidewise; he thought for a moment that he would faint where he sat. Terrified, he looked up at Meta. Their eyes met, and she said, hardly moving her pale lips, "Your eyes they're like mine. Your eyelashes dark, not white. You're not a Lhari!"
If we spend an hour in here, we'll be safe enough. Did you have any trouble putting the radiation counter out of commission?" So in half an hour they would all be dead. Ringg, Rugel, Captain Vorongil. Two dozen Lhari, all dead so that Montano could have a Lhari ship to play with. And what then? More killing, more murder?
When the others had gone back to the city, he sat with Raynor Three in the room where the latter had told him of his father's death, where he had first seen his terrifying Lhari face. They spoke little, but Raynor Three finally asked, "Were you serious about not wanting a defense, Bart?" "I was. All I want is a chance to tell my own story in my own way. Where everyone will hear me."
They were moving faster than light, they saw the light left by the moving Universe as each star hurled in its own invisible orbit, while they tore incredibly through it, faster than light itself.... Bart felt a curious, tingling discomfort, deep in his flesh; almost an itching, a stinging in his very bones. Lhari flesh is no different from ours....
The Lhari boy lay like the dead. Bart bent over him, breathing hard, trying to get his breath back. The hail was still pelting down, showing no signs of lessening. About five feet away, one of the dark gaps in the cliff showed wide and menacing, but at least, Bart thought, the hail couldn't come in there. He stooped and got hold of Ringg again.
"It's your game, mister! Now tell me what's going on? Where's my father?" The man's eyes were half-shut. He said, gasping, "Don't ask me any questions for a minute." He thumbed a tablet into his mouth, and presently his breathing quieted. "We're safe for the minute. Those Lhari would have cut us down." "You, maybe. I haven't done anything.
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