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Another great and admirable master of natural knowledge, Faraday, was a Sandemanian. . That is to say, he related his knowledge to his instinct for conduct and to his instinct for beauty, by the aid of that respectable Scottish sectary, Robert Sandeman.
The Sandeman would neither confirm nor deny that occupation, of course, but the simple fact that he was attempting to trace an IntelDiv field agent lent still further credence to the informant's conclusion. Owajima would have liked more information, but it seemed prudent to act on the informant's suspicions.
It wasn't because of the demonstration, though the way she had defeated them had a bearing, and it wasn't because she'd become a Ranger. He couldn't pinpoint the reason; there was just something about this beautiful felinoid that convinced him she was worthy of the greatest service and gift a Sandeman warrior could offer.
"There is no further need to invade your privacy, warrior." "Nevan is fine I'll go get them, then." He did so, grinning to himself. He'd been favorably impressed by the reports of Owajima's accomplishments; he was even more favorably impressed by the man himself. Not too many standard humans could take out a Sandeman warrior, even using Talent!
I was just saying, Sandeman," this to the Adjutant, who reëntered the room at that moment, "that it would be a sound " The Adjutant laid a pink field-telegraph slip before his superior. "This has just come in from Brigade Headquarters, sir," he said. "I have sent for the Sergeant-Major." The Colonel adjusted his glasses and read the despatch. A deathly, sickening silence reigned in the room.
That will probably have no effect, but this is an unprecedented situation; it could make a difference." She hesitated, then went on in a low voice. "I break custom by saying this, but I don't think you dishonored. I pray the gods will grant you a swift death, then rebirth as a warrior-caste Sandeman to you can earn a place in their ranks."
A Sandeman knelt only to the gods and to @'s thakur, if @ had one, but this was a special case; Killian was acting on Jason's behalf, so she had to show him the same degree of respect. She heard a quiet sound of what seemed like approval from the warriors and w'women beginning to gather in the hall, but didn't dare let it reawaken her hopes. She returned Killian's silent gaze.
He had a pursuer, it seemed a Sandeman warrior named Vance DarLowrie, and the informant was convinced DarLowrie was one of the rare, expensive, and fearsome Sandeman free-lance assassins. That conviction was strengthened by the fact that DarLowrie had his own ship, the Last Resort, and it was registered to him personally rather than to Clan Lowrie.
"Alanna thanks Vader, and Alanna says this." He hoped Jason could read Sandeman expressions better than he could their way of thinking. Obviously he didn't realize that Miklos controlled two-way access to any set tuned in to a conference call, and that his conversation had been heard in all the clans.
"It will be done, Ranger." "Thank you." Medart turned his attention back to Captain Chavvorth. "The Shapers were genetic engineers who left Terra in 2130 and deliberately lost themselves. Not long after that, they began using their own germ plasm to create the Sandeman race as improvements on humanity. The idiots didn't stop with that, though.
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