Part 11 (1/2)
Tarlac didn't answer. They were at the dining room by then, and food, not conversation, was in order.
Not long after their meal, the two were being escorted through the halls of the single building atop a low hill called G.o.dhome, located in the center of the Traiti capital. Tarlac, not wanting his skepticism to be too obvious, had cautiously asked why the G.o.ds needed a material home.
They didn't now, Hovan had told him, and they hadn't since the Supreme Lord of the Circle, Kranath of St'nar, became the first of the new G.o.ds. The old G.o.ds, he explained, the ones the Traiti called ”those who went before,” had left G.o.dhome as . . . something. n.o.body except the Speakers had any real idea about its purpose, and they were saying nothing until the twelfth Lord completed the Circle. At any rate, it had seemed appropriate to join the centers of spiritual and temporal power.
Their escort ushered them into the large open double office shared by the Supreme and the First Speaker; both rulers were waiting for them.
They greeted Hovan first, his due as a Cor'naya, and Tarlac used that brief time to study them. The Supreme, like all male Traiti leaders, had Honor scars, but didn't appear distinctive otherwise; he seemed to be middle-aged. The First Speaker, on the other hand, looked young--was certainly no older than Hovan, to outward appearance. But she radiated an aura that awed Tarlac, of immense and serene wisdom that seemed tremendously old, or perhaps ageless.
When the two turned their attention to him, Tarlac didn't respond to their greetings in the Traiti fas.h.i.+on Hovan had taught him. Instead he saluted and introduced himself, as he had when he'd met the Emperor for the first time. ”Ranger Esteban Tarlac, of the Terran Empire. It's an honor to meet you.”
Hovan translated that, and then the Supreme's reply. ”I sorry am, that my invitation more a compulsion was.”
”From what Hovan's told me about the way the war's going for you, you didn't have any more choice putting it that way than I did accepting.
I just hope it does some good, for both sides. May I contact Emperor Davis, to tell him what I'm doing?”
He knew from the Supreme's tone, even before Hovan translated the words, that the answer was negative. ”Fleet-Captain Arjen said, when I him interviewed, that your s.h.i.+p-Captain would to the Emperor report that you the Ordeal taking are. That all that necessary is.” Then he smiled slightly and added, ”But I no reason see, you cannot transcripts of intercepted Imperial newscasts receive. I will orders give, that the daily summary to you delivered be.”
”Thank you.” That was actually more than Tarlac had expected; he'd only asked because it couldn't hurt to try.
”Ranger Esteban Tarlac,” the First Speaker said, her English p.r.o.nunciation careful.
Tarlac turned to her. ”Yes, my Lady?”
She went on in Language, with Hovan translating. ”Your Ordeal will to human tolerances scaled be. As Fleet-Captain Arjen you told, we ask not certain death, and the Scarring at least would surely fatal be if we did not such allowance make. The Lords stern are, but fair, and you a good sponsor have. There danger is--it must there be--yet no more for you than for any other.”
”That's good to hear.” It didn't alter his certainty, but it did make Tarlac feel good to know the Traiti leaders were taking such care. ”I was wondering, when the Fleet-Captain told me about it. Have you asked any other humans to try the Ordeal?”
”We have no others asked,” the Supreme replied through Hovan. ”Another has it tried, however. You the second human ruhar are; the first his own mind under questioning destroyed, and was by his interrogator's clan--N'chark--accepted, as clan-born. He the Ordeal tried and failed, without dishonor.”
”Will you his name--” Tarlac broke off, shaking his head. ”Did it again, Hovan. Sorry. Just ask him the man's name, will you?”
”All that know, ruhar. Horst Marguerre, once a major in the Imperial Marines. One of those he commanded still a prisoner is.”
”I've heard of him.” So Marguerre'd had the A-I conditioning, had he?
Well, that wasn't too surprising; he'd been in Special Forces, most of whom did have it, and he'd been reported missing and presumed dead early in the war. ”How did he do?”
”No worse than many.” Hovan translated that part of the Supreme's reply, hesitated and spoke to his ruler, then went on to Steve. ”He the part failed that I may not to you describe, ruhar. I can only say, he no harm suffered, and seems to be in N'chark happy.”
That was better than anyone who used A-I conditioning had been told to expect; Tarlac felt some satisfaction for him. ”If he ever gets back to Terra, he can have his memories reimprinted, if he wants; all he'll lose is whatever happened between his last mindscan and the time he used the conditioning.” He returned to present duties. ”I'd like to see the prisoners, if I may.”
After a brief discussion with both rulers, Hovan turned back to Steve.
”The Supreme your reason asks.”
Tarlac shrugged. ”Partly curiosity, I admit, but I'm also the senior Imperial officer here, which makes me responsible for their welfare.”
”I will have you to them taken,” the Supreme agreed, ”since it your duty is, but there no real need is. They well treated are, and as much freedom as possible have. Those who it wish, have even been private quarters given.”
The Supreme's expression as he made that last statement would have convinced Tarlac, even if he hadn't already learned that a Cor'naya's word was as binding as a Sandeman warrior's. Traiti didn't like privacy, and tolerated it only when necessary. Rather like him with newsies, he thought with amus.e.m.e.nt. ”If you say so, I don't see any need to check. I'll take your word.”