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Updated: June 13, 2025
You have learned their Language; will you act as translator for Us?" "Of course, sir." "Good. As you asked Us to, We have released the tapes you showed Us yesterday, so their contents are common knowledge; you need not go into those facts again." "Thank you, sir." Tarlac turned to the Supreme and First Speaker, and translated the exchange.
Tarlac wasn't sure whether he should get worried or laugh at the boy's virulent language, but on the whole it didn't sound promising. "What's wrong, Dave?" "The blankers soaked the whip in stingweed sap," Dave told him, trying to control his anger.
After a few minutes, Tarlac sighed in relief. "That's fine, Dave a lot better. Would you help me sit up?" "Of course, sir." Dave piled up some of the blankets he'd collected, helped the Ranger to sit up, and shoved the blankets into position to serve as a backrest.
"You really made it," Hovan assured him. "Rest easy now. As soon as Channath and Dr. Jason stop the bleeding, they will give you something for your pain. And when you recover, what a party the clan will have!" "Clan party . . ." Tarlac managed a faint smile, his thoughts starting to drift. "Tha'd be nice . . ." "Later, Steve." Hovan smiled too, pushing sweat-damp hair away from the man's face.
That seldom happened without one or both contestants being wounded, though the judge would stop a match before anyone was maimed or killed. While he was a very interested spectator, Tarlac didn't participate in either the betting or the matches, which meant that few of the Traiti considered him a real fighter.
He didn't want to answer, but a person had a right to know the truth. "I've never seen a case before, so I can only tell you what the book says." He took a deep breath. "Massive stingweed poisoning and you've been given as bad a case as I've ever heard of starts off by making you sick and feverish." "That fits the way I feel," Tarlac said dryly. "Go on."
"Headquarters out." Tarlac looked over at the Master Pilot. "It's all yours. Take us down." "Aye, Lord." Watching critically, Tarlac had to admit there was very little difference in efficiency between the crews at the Hermnaen's control central and on the Empress Lindner's bridge.
The grapevine, Tarlac reflected, must be the universe's most effective communications net for Traiti as well as humans. Almost all the off-duty crew gathered in the exercise hall to watch the uneven contest.
"Individually, Lord, human fighters leave much to be desired but in groups they equal us, and they are far more numerous." "That's why those who went before moved you instead of us, remember?" Tarlac was delighted to be able to speak so openly, even jokingly, of facts the Traiti race now accepted. "Yes, Lord." Arjen couldn't help smiling.
The realization of something so basic it had never occurred to him before, as he walked in the warmth of Homeworld's sun, seemed fitting to him. He'd been Kranath, he'd been Godhome; now he was Steve Tarlac again. Only Steve Tarlac, he thought with a silent laugh, but he'd found at least part of the answer he needed to bring peace if he survived.
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