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Updated: June 16, 2025
But Ringg was the same as always, and before long they were almost on the old terms. With every watch, it seemed, he was building a bridge between man and Lhari. They accepted him. But for what? Something might come, in the far future, of his acceptance, but he wouldn't get the benefit of it.
"Well, well, you're right," Vorongil growled. He glared at Bart. "On the last planet, one of our men disappeared. Jumped ship!" The creases around his eyes deepened, troubled. "Probably just gone on the drift, sight-seeing, but I wish he'd told me. As it is, I wonder if he's been hurt, killed, kidnaped." Ringg said, "Who'd dare? It would be reported."
Even more, it was good to get away from the constant presence of his shipmates. During this enforced idleness, their presence oppressed him unendurably so many tall forms, gray skins, feathery crests. He was always alone; for a change, he felt that he'd like to be alone without Lhari all around him. But as he moved away from the ship, Ringg dropped out of the hatchway and hailed him.
And that you risked perhaps your life, certainly your eyesight to save us from death. So when the Elder asked for my estimate of your people, I gave it." "I thought it sounded like you." Bart felt that his happiness was complete. "And now," Ringg cried, "let's celebrate! Meta, you haven't even told him that he's free!" But while the party got rolling, Bart wondered free for what?
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?
A pain like fire went through the wrist he had smashed against the rock. He set his teeth, wondering if it had broken. The effort made him see stars, but he managed somehow to hoist Ringg up again and haul him through the pelting hail toward the yawning gap. It darkened around them, and, blessedly, the battering, bruising hail could not reach them.
And if he succeeded, Vega Interplanet could spread from star to star, a mighty memorial to Rupert Steele. One day Vorongil sent for him. "Bartol," he said, and his voice was not unkind, "you and Ringg have always been good friends, so don't be angry about this. He's worried about you says you spend all your spare time in your bunk growling at him. Is there anything the matter, feathertop?"
"I remembered you had a bad reaction, to warp-drive," he said. "I came to see if you were all right. I would never have believed but I'm beginning to guess. There was always something about you, Bartol." He shut the door behind him and stood against it. His voice lowered almost to a whisper, he said, "You're not Lhari, are you?" "Vorongil knows," Bart said. Ringg nodded. "That day on Lharillis.
"No, it's only " she bit her lip "it's just that the Lhari are I can't quite explain it." "Different," Bart finished for her. "At first I was repelled physically repelled by myself, and by them. It was like living among weird animals, and being one of the animals. And then, one day, Ringg was just another kid.
"I only locate metals fatigue, sir I don't make it!" "No help for it then," Vorongil said. "We'll have to put down for repairs. How much time do we have, Ringg?" "I give it thirty hours," Ringg said briefly, and Vorongil gave a long shrill whistle. "Bartol, what's the closest listed spaceport?" Bart dived for handbooks, manuals, comparative tables of position, and started programming information.
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