Hova

“ Urged on by Raheh, the bearers pushed ahead, and soon stood upon the banks of a beautiful river, dashing merrily along over rocks and fallen trees, until with a leap it disappeared in the shadows of the vast forest. Upon the farther side was grouped a little village of the clay huts belonging to the friendly Hovas, and beyond the village stretched green fields of waving rice. The "Hovas" are the governing race in the island, and are the most civilized. Their capital city of Antananarivo, in the center of the island, is a well-built city of over 100,000 inhabitants. ”

“ The word in Hova means 'animal.'— (Sibree's Madagascar, p. 253.)
[c. 1610.—"Nobles in blood ... call their wives Bybis."—Pyrard de Laval, Hak. Soc. i. 217.] 1611.—"... the title Bibi ... is in Persian the same as among us, sennora, or doña."—Teixeira, Relacion ... de Hormuz. 19.
c. 1786.—"The word Lowndika, which means the son of a slave-girl, was also continually on the tongue of the Nawaub, and if he was angry with any one he called him by this name; but it was also used as an endearing fond appellation to which was attached great favour, [9] until one day, Ali Zumán Khan ... ”

“ I've been a Ranger for fifteen years, Hovan. Almost half my life. I just ... I couldn't—"
Hovan shook him with controlled ease, just enough to silence him. "You of Ch'kara now are, Steve, and in-clan. Yourself be, not another's image. That not a weakness is."
"What? I—"
"To me listen, ruhar. Everyone help needs, sometimes. That does not weakness show, or shame bring." Hovan released Steve's shoulders, and put his arms around the man instead, giving Tarlac the feeling of being held by something with the weight and patient strength of an oak tree. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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." ”

“ They are exceedingly attached to their homes. The Hovas often, when setting out on a journey, take with them a small portion of their native earth, on which they often gaze when absent, and invoke their god that they may be permitted to return to restore it to the place from which it was taken. ”

“ His pretended absorption in a document that their own news showed held only the one item of interest couldn't mislead his Clan Mother and his sponsor.
"Ka'ruchaya..." Hovan said hesitantly.
"I know, ruesten. The Lords burden him beyond what most are asked to endure."
"Even more than you know, Ka'ruchaya, and it troubles me. He has not even a youngling's strength of body, and though that can be overcome by strength of will, which he does have ... I do not know."
"Nor do I," Yarra said. "It is not well to go into the Scarring at less than full strength, and his will is being sapped. ”

“ When they left the medical center, Hovan looked thoughtfully at Steve. The man was a guest on this ship, and he was now of Ch'kara—but he was still human, and Hovan was well aware that there were those aboard the Hermnaen who thought honor was no more binding toward humans that it was toward vermin. Steve had the freedom of the ship, and while Hovan was sure nobody would take any overt action, he was equally sure "accidents" could be easily arranged. With a human's delicate build, even a minor accident could prove fatal. ”

“ Hovan stripped the body and began to wash it, working as gently as if the man could still feel. Then he dressed Steve Tarlac in the forest green of his Imperial rank, leaving the shirt open to show the man's wounds.
Finished, he inspected the body carefully. Yes, everything was proper. The uniform was spotless, the badge and leather items polished to a high gloss, the gun fully charged. His ruhar would go before the Lords as a Cor'naya of Ch'kara should. He picked up the body again and returned to the foot of the altar dais. ”

“ Hovan replied, "For Mother Yarra and Clan Ch'kara, I your pledge accept. Ch'kara you claims, as kin in blood and honor. The clan you guards, as you it defend."
The brief ceremony over, Hovan released his new ruhar's wrist. Tarlac grabbed it and applied pressure to stop the bleeding, noting that Hovan's wound was already closing, as he considered his new and unique position. He was a Ranger of the Empire, yet at the same time he was a member of a Traiti—until now, an enemy—clan. He had carefully qualified his oath, and he'd done everything he could for the Empire before boarding the Hermnaen. ”

“ Poor people wear little except a cloth twisted round their loins, while the more wealthy wear a shirt covered with a mantle called a lamba. This article of apparel is disposed as variously as the Abyssinian’s tobe. The Hovas are distinguished by having their lambas edged with a border of five broad stripes. Their houses, to which allusion has already been made, are formed exclusively of vegetable materials. The walls are formed by driving rows of posts into the ground at unequal distances, and filling in the spaces with the strong leaf-stalks of the “traveller’s tree.” ”

“ 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." ”

“ 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. ”

“ Thinking back, Tarlac had to admit that all the n'Cor'naya he'd met were individuals he'd trust not to panic, as Hovan had not. "But Speakers and n'Cor'naya aren't exactly average. It's the risk to people like ... oh, like Sandre and your twins. ”

“ While he helped the human remove his spacesuit, Hovan did some studying of his own, wondering what made a Ranger so formidable. This Tarlac was even less impressive physically than the Terran combat troops he'd faced. He was no more than shoulder-high to Hovan, and so slender he seemed almost frail. There was black hair on the man's head, and obvious facial differences, but the thin light-brown skin and total lack of claws or effective teeth were not impressive. What made this human so powerful? ”

“ Hovan would never make a Ranger—he was too old, too molded by Fleet discipline, and far too clan-oriented—but there would be non-human Rangers someday, and eventually a non-human Sovereign. He liked that idea. Intelligence was what counted, and the Traiti certainly had as much of that as any of the Imperial races.
There was no doubt in Tarlac's mind that if he made it through the Ordeal to end the war, it would be Hovan's doing as much as his own. Hovan's teaching, his quiet support, and most of all his caring, were what would bring the Ranger through his Ordeal if it were humanly possible. ”

“ But a "Speaker" being able to give out classified information was damn near incredible—and having it accepted so matter-of-factly made it even worse. Still, he couldn't object; he was a guest here, and Hovan was going on. "He should a proper ceremony have, or as close as may under war conditions done be. Will you have any n'Cor'naya who free are, in the exercise hall assemble?"
"Of course, Cor'naya. In half a tenth-day?"
"Fine," Hovan said. "Afterwards, I must a message to Ch'kara's clanhome on Norvis send, clan priority."
"You will it have," Arjen replied. ”

“ 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!" ”

“ When Arjen nodded as though that explained everything, Tarlac had to resist an impulse to shake his head violently. It felt as if it were full of cobwebs. Hovan needing his Clan Mother's permission to perform an adoption wasn't too hard to accept; at least nominally, women ran families in quite a few cultures. ”

“ The spaceport, so much like its Imperial counterparts, was behind them and they were approaching the capital city. Hovan had described it, so Tarlac knew what to expect: large, relatively low buildings, none over three stories high, set apart from each other in almost parklike surroundings. In several of the larger buildings they passed, females stood at the central doors; they were the clan's sub-Mothers, though rarely—when this was the clan's main home—it might be the Ka'ruchaya herself waiting to formally welcome her clan-children. ”

“ He must have been tireder than he'd thought—he should never have gotten that idea after Hovan had referred to a Clan Mother administering the death penalty! Oh, well. "If it's not prying, how old are you?"
"You will soon of Ch'kara be; no prying is. I thirty-five Homeworld years have, almost forty-six Imperial Standard. You?"
"Thirty-five too, but Standard."
Hovan made a quick calculation. "Twenty-seven, Homeworld. And you already a Ranger are? That hard to believe is. How?"
"It's not really a matter of age," Tarlac said. "They grab all of us young, on purpose. ”

“ Apparently it was good style in Ch'kara, though, since Hovan's fit the same way. Tarlac's gun wasn't there, probably in storage with his uniform; instead, he'd been given a knife very similar to the one he'd used in the challenge match aboard the Hermnaen. "I gather you borrowed these from a youngling?"
"Yes. And Sandre them tailored, you to fit. Now come. Food ready for you is, then I must your education begin. Much there is you have to learn, before you the Ordeal begin." ”

“ The Traiti version of synthiskin, probably, Tarlac thought.
Afterwards the medic checked and cleaned Hovan's cut, but didn't bother with any further treatment. It looked half-healed, whether or not it was.
When the medic was done with Hovan, Tarlac spoke to him. "It feels better already. Thanks."
"He your speech knows not," Hovan told Steve, then said something to the medic in their liquid tongue. When he turned back to the Ranger, he was smiling. "He says you him too much honor give. He has never before a human treated; that you well responded only fortunate was." ”

“ They can't talk; they use their tongues for gestural communication, and to handle things. They're outstanding artists, too." If some of his speculations were correct, that might mean more to the Traiti than to many humans.
Hovan translated, then turned to the human. "We some as captives took and caged. We hurt them not, yet have them as animals treated. We must that change, or dishonor suffer. Can we with them communicate?"
"Most English understand—" Tarlac broke off. ”

“ Now that you relaxed are, may I a favor ask?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"My men have humans fought and killed, but have never any truly met. If you willing are, they would like to you examine, and then questions ask. But you out-clan to all of us are; if you wish it not, none will offended be."
"I don't see why I shouldn't do it, as long as it works both ways. I'd like to examine a live Traiti as much as they'd like to examine a live human."
"That reasonable is. I willing am, to your subject be." Hovan called his men over, conveying Steve's assent, then stood relaxed. "I ready am." ”

“ So was the fact, he thought grimly, that if he died in the Ordeal she would very probably die too, under Imperial weapons.
"You only that say, because she the first you met have who smaller than you is," Hovan said, wondering at Steve's brief frown. This was supposed to be a glad celebration—and it was all right; the man's expression was clearing.
"Well, maybe a little," Tarlac conceded. "When a teenage kid's as tall as I am and masses at least twice as much, it's nice to see someone smaller. ”

“ He had brought peace, peace the Traiti could accept with full honor—peace that meant life for Ch'kara, for Sandre and the twins, for Daria and the youngling she shared with Steve. Hovan knew there would be details to work out, still—details that might take years—but Steve had made that working out possible.
Then Tarlac turned to the Emperor. "Sir, I'd like to administer an oath now, with your permission. Team-Leader Hovan is a commando, an experienced officer who's come up through the ranks as all of their officers have, and in my opinion he would be an asset to the Empire. ”