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I've been all around the spectrum, and it's not red, blue, green, orange, violet " He broke off, realizing what he had said and what he had seen. "An eighth color," he finished, anticlimatically. "You and your talk of colors," Ringg grumbled, "I wish I knew what you Mentorians see! It's like trying to imagine seeing a smell or hearing light!" Meta laughed. "As far as I know, no one's named it.
You remember how humans, in the early days in space, used certain birds, who were more sensitive to impure air than they were. When the birds keeled over, they could tell it was time for humans to start looking over the air systems! The Lhari use Mentorians to identify colors for them.
"I suppose somebody gossiped, or one of those fool Mentorians picked it up. Got your papers? What rating?" "Astrogator first class." "Klanerol was second, but you can't have everything, I suppose." Ringg led the way through the arcades, out across a guarded sector, passing half a dozen of the huge ships lying in their pits. Finally Ringg stopped and pointed. "This is the old hulk."
It was your father who made me wonder if we Mentorians were blind and selfish this privilege ought to belong to everyone, not just the Lhari. More and more, the Lhari monopoly seemed wrong to me. But I was just a medic. And if I involved myself in any conspiracy against the Lhari, they'd find it out in the routine psych-checking. "And then we worked out how it could be done.
At least they'd see that all humans weren't like the Mentorians, to sit quietly and let themselves be brainwashed without a word of protest. He started to spring up, and the hands of his guards tightened, swift and strong, even before his muscles had fully tightened. Bart's head dropped. Cold common sense doused over his brave thoughts.
"There are Mentorians in the crowd who might understand us." He turned and looked straight at Bart, and Bart felt as if the slanted strange eyes were looking right through to his bones. The Lhari said, in Universal, "Who are you, boy? What iss your businesssses here?" Bart replied in the same language, politely, "My father's coming in on this ship. I'm looking for the information desk."
The increasing bustle in the crowds below them told him that time must be getting short. A tall, impressive-looking Lhari strode through the crowd, followed at a respectful distance by two Mentorians, tall, redheaded humans wearing metallic cloaks like those of the Lhari. Tommy nudged Bart, his face bitter. "Look at those lousy Mentorians! How can they do it?
"Oh, no, you wouldn't," Bart said softly. "Not even very many Mentorians will. You see, the Lhari don't trust humans too much. In the early days, men were always planting spies on Lhari ships, to try and steal the secret of warp-drive.
"I expect you feel pretty sick. You got a good dose of radiation yourself, but we've given you a couple of transfusions one of the Mentorians matched your blood type, fortunately. It was a close call." The medic was looking down in ill-disguised curiosity. "Fantastic," he said. "I don't suppose you'd tell me who changed your looks.
He closed the panel and brushed dust over it, and when the Second Officer came back, Bart was at his own station. As Antares fell toward them in the viewport, he found himself worrying about Mentorians. They would be in cold sleep, presumably in a safe part of the ship, behind shielding, or Montano would have made provisions for them. Still, he wished there were a way to warn Meta.
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