Ann Wilson

“ Tarlac recognized him from the statuettes and from his Vision. He took a deep breath of the sweet, vital air before he spoke. "My place, Lord Kranath? I'm human, not Traiti."
"In body," Kranath agreed, smiling. "In mind you are both, and have been since your conception. We insured that. The human body on Ch'kara's altar means nothing. Here you—and we—can be either. Think of yourself as Traiti, Ruhar."
Remembering his Vision of being Kranath, and before that the time at the altar when he'd felt as much Traiti as human, Tarlac did as he was told. ”

“ Tarlac said emphatically, "I will!" Then he was in the air as Channath hugged him. Back on his feet, surprised but too flattered to mind, he looked bemusedly after Channath's retreating back. "What was that all about?"
"I told you, there much touching is, in-clan." Hovan put an arm around the man's shoulders. "The closeness good is, not so?"
"Yes..." Tarlac said slowly. "Yes, it is. It's strange—I shouldn't like it. A Ranger has to be self-sufficient, has to stay apart—has to be objective and impartial. I'm not, any longer." ”

“ Kranath nodded. "Yes, and you learned it quickly, despite your human conditioning. I had to learn to be alone, you to be close—even the most minor of gods must know both.
"Someone subject to external limitations, as a Ranger or ruler is, should have no bias. We are limited only by our own feelings, though; everything we do must be tempered by love for our charges."
"External limitations?" Tarlac chuckled. "I'd say I didn't have many!"
"You had the ultimate limitation, Steve. Mortality." ”

“ He felt the sensation of change again, and the glade's Traiti and human Lords returned to the bodies they'd first had. "One's original form is usually best," Kranath agreed calmly.
"You have accepted that we exist," Sepol—Lord of the Ordeal—put in. "And you have accepted the abilities of those who went before. Why, then, are you so reluctant to accept the fact that we have called you to join us?"
Tarlac shrugged. "The same reason, I guess, that I don't like the idea of gods who interfere in mortal affairs. ”

“ As Tarlac rejoined Hovan, he discovered there weren't as many Traiti in the gathering hall as he'd thought. The lane of bodies which was all he'd been able to see had concealed tables laden with food and drink, as well as other members of the clan.
Several females and younglings came forward carrying drinks—and something the Ranger had known only intellectually suddenly became an emotional reality to him. This was a family, as close and loving as any human family, and he was a part of it. Until now, no living human could testify to anything but Traiti enthusiasm and skill in battle. ”

“ Tarlac had to smile at that. He felt himself no equal to Hovan's calm strength, but it was reassuring to know Hovan had that kind of confidence in him. "I think I'd rather have that choice to make. Dammit, Hovan, I've had to order people mindprobed, others killed, and that was bad enough. Those were criminals. How can I tell innocent people something that'll disturb all of them and probably kill a lot? That's genocide, as surely as what the Empire'll do if I fail." ”

“ Hovan agreed. "But we have also learned, from the tiny ferocious ones who themselves Sandemans call, that Rangers only devious are when there no other choice is. And you no reason for deception have."
"More precisely, we'll be misleading when it's in the Empire's interest—which isn't often. And even then, we keep it to the absolute minimum; people have to know that when one of us makes a definite statement, it's binding." Interesting, Tarlac thought, that the beings humans thought of as merciless killers considered the Sandemans ferocious. ”

“ Do your gods speak often?"
"It hasn't been proven that any ever have. I've never really believed in any of Terra's gods." The hot mug between his hands gave off cinnamon-flavored steam. "I'm not very good at taking things on faith."
"On faith? Your gods provide no evidence?" Daria's voice held faint disapproval. "They must be inferior gods, then."
Tarlac had to agree. "Yeah. The Circle of Lords doesn't leave much room for doubt, does it? No wonder Hovan thought I was naive."
He took a drink of his chovas, enjoying the warmth amid his troubled thoughts. ”

“ Another Traiti indicated that he had a question. Hovan listened, gestured sharply, and spoke, then turned to the Ranger. "This more personal is than the other questions. He asks if you have children fathered."
"I don't mind; no, I haven't." Of course, Tarlac thought. With that sex ratio, parenthood could easily be a sensitive subject for males. "I'm not married, and even if I were, I don't think I'd... Well, anyway, having children when I'm on Terra so little wouldn't be fair to them. Being a Ranger's child wouldn't make up for having a father—or mother—who's gone all the time. ”

“ He moved to sit close to the human, not touching him in this out-clan place, and spoke softly. "Ruhar"—the intonation meant "brother/friend"—"there no dishonor in fear, or in failure of the Ordeal, is. And I certain am that you will not fail. You Ch'kara have, whatever in this happens."
Tarlac felt his tension ease momentarily at that assurance, borrowing comfort from Hovan's nearness. It wasn't fear for himself, as much as fear for the Empire and Traiti alike, that held him. Only stubbornnness kept him from succumbing to the awful vision of a dead Homeworld, of Imperial genocide. ”

“ It was true that no Traiti had surrendered during the entire course of the war, and there had been speculation about the reason; the hypothesis that Traiti were incapable of it had gained some favor over the years.
Tarlac wasn't glad to find it was right. That meant that even more than the chance of peace rode on his survival of this Ordeal. Damn! Tarlac thought the word with vehement intensity, but didn't say it aloud. It wasn't fair! A race's extinction should not depend on one man, especially one who wasn't at all sure of his own ability to survive! ”

“ Daria said, frowning in her turn, perhaps at the unfamiliar word. "They have remained unresponsive; I can only pray that they will. But you must not count on it, for they give no more help than they consider essential. If they think there is any possibility you can do it without them, success or failure is up to you. We must learn, they say, by our mistakes."
"It wasn't your mistake that started this war," Tarlac said. "It was the Empire's, but you're the ones paying for it." He had a sudden thought, frowned again. "Fleet-Captain Arjen said the Supreme and First Speaker invited me here. ”

“ Steve was worthy of Ch'kara; Hovan was convinced of that. And the sense of belonging in Steve's touch made it almost certain he would accept the offer. Hovan told himself ruefully that he shouldn't have entertained even the small doubts he'd had of Ka'ruchaya Yarra's wisdom. It had seemed impossible that an alien could truly be a ruhar, and Steve was undoubtedly an alien, even though he wasn't frightened, as so many humans seemed to be, by the sheer size of beings so alien to them. Yet the clan-feeling was definitely there—how had Yarra guessed? ”

“ He settled on salvis root for dinner, apprehensive about handling a plant that bore a strong outward resemblance to poison oak, but he was hungry. The small patch of salvis yielded plenty for him, though it would have barely whetted a Traiti's appetite. Dessert came from a toli vine that was strangling a nearby soh tree—orange berries that looked something like jelly beans and smelled like dirty socks. Despite Hovan's assurances, he bit into the first one cautiously. Nothing that smelled that bad had a right to taste even halfway decent . ”

“ Hovan's calm words meant the Empire was in the process of exterminating an entire intelligent race, a crime more monstrous than any recorded in the history of all three Imperial races combined. And the Empire didn't even know it! The Ranger would have cursed, but not even a space-scout's inventive vocabulary could express his feelings.
Not really expecting an affirmative answer, Tarlac asked, "Can they—the women and children, anyway—can any of them surrender?"
"No word for that in Language is," Hovan said. "We the concept from humans learned. They cannot." ”

“ Hovan had known there wouldn't be. He had seen too many people die to hold false hopes, and only concern for his ruhar's honor kept him from voicing his outrage to the Lords, his brief but bitter anger at the injustice of their letting Steve complete the Ordeal only to die in his arms.
The human doctor had no such qualms. He turned on Hovan, furious. "Satisfied, you damn Shark? In a hospital I could maybe still save him—not here! No human could survive that kind of pain, system shock, bleeding—not without help! He's dead, and you killed him!" ”

“ Too much we have of Rangers heard; the truth we must know. That can best through the Ordeal learned be. When we on Homeworld are, and a clan have found that will him adopt, the Supreme will ask that he it try. If Rangers truly as prisoners claim are, he will agree."
"That's not a condition of releasing the ship, then," Tarlac said.
"No, Ranger. The Ordeal must freely chosen be. Those who it try unwilling, die. We ask not certain death of you, but if you the Ordeal survive, the First Speaker says you will this war with honor end." ”

“ The next five days settled into a routine of hiking and foraging, living on produce and his stored jerky. Other than a brief but heavy shower the third afternoon, the weather remained good; food was abundant, if monotonous, and the only hostile wildlife he ran into was a variety of insect something like an Alaskan mosquito with a decided taste for human flesh. Except for an occasional feeling of being watched, and his urgent reasons for being here at all, Tarlac was enjoying himself. ”

“ Kranath repeated. "It seems to me that you had already made the choice."
"Ruhar," Carle said gently, "you have been both Ranger and Cor'naya, earning high status in both societies, and Daria was right when she told you that was vital to peace. Tell me, though: would that have been enough? Were you persuasive enough to convince two star-spanning civilizations to cease ten years of hostility just with words? Is any mortal?"
Tarlac shook his head. "I'm an operator, not much of a diplomat— Linda's the expert at that, and I don't think even she could bring that one off." ”

“ Tarlac said. He'd had little experience with proud parents, but was quite familiar with people wanting to show off; it was one aspect of a Ranger's job, usually boring, occasionally pleasant.
"I think you will not disappointed be." Hovan knew he was smiling. It would be good to introduce Steve to the clan, especially to Sharya and Casti. He was sure the man would find acceptance and, Lords willing, the closeness he had sacrificed for his Empire. The man could not truly miss what he had never known, growing up with only his two parents, but it was something he should have. ”

“ Tarlac whistled admiringly. "And you're half that. Damn good! I can see why that'd gain you status." He hesitated, then decided to ask; Hovan had said there was no prying involved. "What about the young you shared? They gave you status too,"—Hovan had mentioned them even before his rank—"okay. But what're they like? How—"
Hovan cut the man off with a gesture, noted the expression of distaste at his extended claws, and carefully didn't smile. "The younglings you should for yourself see. They will us on Homeworld meet. ”

“ 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." ”

“ He had visions of that horror: the attack, killing all the fighters; the rest of the adult males defending the clanhome and dying; the break-in, and more death as females and older younglings fought the invaders. Only those too small to know what was happening, or to fight, would survive—to be taken into the victors' clans, and then to be formally adopted when they were old enough.
Kranath shuddered. The clan was far more important than any individual. A person lived perhaps two hundred years, while a clan could live as long as the race itself. ”