Winds of darkness - Part One

		(c) 2001, Wirewolf
		(Rewritten 2/1/99)

  With the flat of his hand, Redics wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror.  In the 
cleared spot was the reflection of an unhappy man.  His slight frown and narrowed eyes 
gave him pause.  Had he looked like this all day?

  Redics shook his head.  He had a right to be unhappy.  His ship, the Ti Phorus, was 
hooked to the docking ring of an Yrboti space station.  Her computers were damaged and 
her sub-light engine was barely working.  By rights he should have been aboard getting 
her prepped for the necessary repairs.  Instead, he was wasting time in an Yrboti 
`hospitality suite' getting ready for a party.

  He sighed and tried to arrange his hair into some acceptable fashion.

  Perhaps `party' wasn't exactly the right word for the event.  Technically it was called a 
welcoming assembly.  A few might have even termed it a diplomatic function.  However, 
a boatload of officers straight from the Interstellar Commerce Council's Navy 
Headquarters was attending.  There were more ambassadors gathered here than there had 
been at the Inclusion Ceremony for Yrbo itself.  And there were more ships moored at 
this hodge podge of a station than Redics had seen together anywhere other than an ICCN 
shipyard.  The station was nearly at occupant capacity.  One could hardly go anywhere 
without being in a crowd.

  To Redics, this constituted a party.

  He flung off the coarse towel he had used to dry himself and picked up his clothes.

  He couldn't fault them for wanting a party.  This was an unusual occasion.  The ICCN 
Alvarado was returning from a successful diplomatic mission at Kerresh Voldt IV.  The 
ambassadors and the admirals were scheduled to meet for a modest celebration.  All that 
changed when the Alvarado called in to say it had rescued a stranded ship, and in the 
process had established first contact with an unknown race.  Now everyone wanted to be 
at Outreach, the Yrboti's first of five prosperous space stations, to welcome the Alvarado 
firsthand.

  Redics dressed in the dark blue pants and shirt he had brought from the Ti Phorus.  The 
boots he wore were his old ones.  He hadn't been able to find his new boots.

  He took one last look in the mirror and decided he was as presentable as he was likely 
to get.  His mind drifted a moment, considering all the things that had happened recently.  
A scrap of song rose up.  He could only remember a few lines, something about a long, 
hard journey and the perils of a life fully lived.  He lost it before he could remember any 
more of the lyrics.  Turning away from the mirror, he turned off the light and moved into 
the main room.

  T'yonnosh was sleeping on the couch, snoring gently.  He had one arm behind his head, 
the other laying across his furred chest.  His legs were crossed at the ankles, his feet 
extended over the end of the couch.  His longish tail snaked from under him, fell off the 
cushion and ended in a half-curl on the floor.

  Redics stopped and gazed his caniform partner.  Their recent run-in with Del Tomusth 
and his vicious mercenaries had been hard on both of them.  Let him sleep a few more 
minutes, his conscience told him.

  Next to the main room was a single bedroom.  Laying across the Yrboti sleeping pads 
was Zephanthus, their companion and protector.  `Zanth' was a young male Peirythian 
tundra cat.  He was a genemorph, like T'yonnosh, but was a feliform.  His genetic 
patterns were based on the Terran puma, built purely as an animal, with one major 
difference.  Zanth and his kind were sentient, with the average intelligence of a teenage 
human.  One of the first truly successful Genetic Anthropomorphs to be designed with 
only boosted intelligence and speech capabilities, they were introduced to the planet 
Peiryth as a form of `smart' pest control.  The Peirythian tundra ox had no natural 
enemies and was quickly discovered to be a problem to fields of genetically enhanced 
`snow wheat' being grown on their frozen world.

  Zephanthus had also been drowsing, but came alert when Redics entered the room.  
Redics sat on the pads next to the tundra cat and ran his hand along the heavily muscled 
shoulder.  The dark, splotchy brown fur of Zanth's pelt was coarser than T'yonnosh's 
plush gray hide.

  An aspect of Zanth's heritage that hadn't been changed was the thick, rumbling purr 
that responded to Redics' caress.  The tundra cat's large head thumped back down and his 
powerful forelegs pushed against Redics' thigh.  The snow-white claws sheathed in the 
wide forepaws flashed out and in, lightly snagging his pants.

  "Do you remember where we have to go now?"  Redics moved his hand under Zanth's 
chin and scratched the cat's favorite spot.

  "Yes.  We have to go to the gathering place and listen to boring people."

  Zanth's answer was in his primitive, designed language; a collection of snarls, growls, 
grunts and the occasional 'whuff.'  The heavy collar around his neck housed a dedicated 
translator that sent its signals to the receiver implanted in Redics' right ear.  The collar 
was cased in Peirythian ox leather and was etched with drawings of tundra cats and oxen 
fighting.

  "It may be boring but Garvin wants us there.  And I want you to promise you'll stay at 
my side the whole time.  This place is full of people who don't know you and may be 
frightened of you.  Some of them might even panic and try to jump out the nearest 
window."

  Zanth snorted, a habit he had picked up from Redics, which meant 'not likely'.

  "Promise me, Zephanthus."

  Zanth's large gray eyes blinked sleepily, a sure sign of disinterest.

  The hand which had been scratching his chin of now grabbed a firm hold of his sturdy 
whiskers.  He snarled.

  "Promise?"  Redics tugged on his handful.

  "I promise."  Unhappily.

  "Good."  Redics let go and rubbed the furred snout for good measure.  He stood.  He had 
to wake T'yonnosh now.  

  The instant his back was turned Zanth moved.  With great speed he rammed Redics in 
the small of the back with his head.  Redics gasped and stumbled , spinning as he did so.  
Zanth sat on the sleeping pads as primly as any domesticated Terran cat, his front feet 
together between his hind feet and his tail curled in front of him.

  "That was for the whiskers," he announced.

  Redics grimaced, rubbing his back.  Then he smiled and laughed.  "Fair."

  He went to the end of the couch and gently grabbed the four toes on T'yonnosh's furry 
left foot and shook it slowly.

  "Wake up my friend.  We have places to go."

  One eyelid gradually lifted to reveal a bright amber eye.  After a moment, T'yonnosh 
said quietly, "Let go of my foot."

  Redics let go and retrieved T'yonnosh's clothes from where they had been dropped.  He 
tossed them onto the caniform's chest.  "Get dressed.  Garvin wants to meet us in 10 
minutes."

  He sat down by the small food panel and coaxed a pressed grain bar out of it.  While he 
ate, he thought about his recent surprise meeting with his boss, Jim Garvin.  Only 
minutes after docking, Garvin had called to ask a favor.  "I want you to come to the 
welcoming assembly.  There will be a lot of important beings there." he had said.

  "No thanks," Redics had replied.  "I have plenty of things to occupy me aboard ship."

  "You'll enjoy it," Garvin had persisted.  "This is a rare occasion."

  He had been unconvinced.  "The ship is a mess."

  "Look, I won't insist that you go..."

  Redics had turned wary.  Garvin was not a man who backed down often.  "Unless," he'd 
prompted.

  "Unless you turn down my invitation."

  Redics had issued the first of many sighs that afternoon and agreed to go.  What Jim 
Garvin was even doing on an Yrboti space station Redics couldn't guess.

  He finished his grain bar and looked over at T'yonnosh.  He still wasn't dressed.  "Are 
you going to put those on?"  he asked.  "We have to leave soon."

  "Why dress?  I'm comfortable like this."  T'yonnosh had draped his robe over the back 
of the couch.

  "This is an important celebration.  You should look your best."

  The caniform gave the robe a dismissive push with his hand.  "I washed and brushed," 
he countered.

  They had waltzed around this one before.  T'yonnosh disliked wearing clothes of any 
kind since he already had adequate covering, especially those areas of his anatomy that 
humans seemed most sensitive about.

  Redics tilted his head and considered what tack to take next.

  "Eyebrows will rise," he warned.

  "Let them.  So long as I'm not struck by a stray eyebrow, I won't mind."

  He glanced over at Zanth.  The tundra cat was watching the exchange with amusement, 
waiting to see who would win.  Time, he decided, to try the direct approach.  Redics 
picked up the soft hide boots T'yonnosh had worn earlier and stood over his partner.

  "We only have a few minutes," he said.  "Please?"

  T'yonnosh looked up at him and muttered something low and breathy.  He stood up and 
grabbed his robe.  It was one of his best robes, rich brown and tan with cream colored 
piping and a shimmering black band around the chest.  He slid it on, making a show of 
adjusting it over his fur.  He hooked the studded leather belts around his middle.  
Reaching behind, he pulled apart the hemmed split in the back that allowed his tail 
egress.  Turning, he looked Redics in the eye.  "How fortunate for the citizens of this 
station that you're here to guard their delicate sensibilities."

  "Thank you," Redics replied with a touch of sarcasm.  He held out the boots.

  "I draw the line there," T'yonnosh told him.  He took the boots and tossed them over the 
back of the couch.

  Redics looked down at T'yonnosh's feet.  The robe ended midway down the caniform's 
calves.  He returned T'yonnosh's eye-to-eye stare.

  "You look silly."

  T'yonnosh made a soft sound, a sort of snorted "huh", his comment on things in general.

  Redics' mouth quirked in a slight, irrepressible grin.  T'yonnosh's long, narrow jaw 
dropped with his version of the same.

  "All right," Redics conceded.  "C'mon Zanth," he called.

  Together they left for the assembly hall.

  The corridors of the residential levels of the station were mostly empty.  The few people 
around were other guests leaving their suites and heading in the same direction.  To 
Redics' surprise, his off-hand prediction about rising eyebrows had been accurate.  
T'yonnosh, however, was not the cause of the amused glances from passers-by.  It 
seemed that Redics himself was the one being stared at.

  "It is something wrong?" he quietly asked his partner.  "Is my hair on fire or 
something?"

  T'yonnosh looked him over briefly.  "You look fine to me," he reported.

  They came to a junction in the corridor where the main lifts were.  Standing off to one 
side was the familiar figure of Jim Garvin.  He nodded to them as they approached.

  Jim was a sturdy looking man with a physique that belied his administrative duties.  He 
was a native of the Mars colonies.  His culture believed strongly in self reliance and 
physical well being.  He was also the smartest person Redics knew.  The Interstellar 
Commerce Council apparently agreed, and employed him as an intelligence coordinator.

  Jim shook Redics' hand and smiled warmly.  "Good to see you again," he said.  His 
voice was deep and had that quality found in most command officers, namely the ability 
to project his will through his voice.

  He touched palms with T'yonnosh in the caniform style.  "You did an excellent job of 
dealing with Del and his group."  T'yonnosh replied with a quiet, "Thank you."

  He turned to Zephanthus and raised his right hand, palm out.  "I heard about your part of 
the encounter.  These two would be lost without you."

  Zanth returned the salute, his foreleg raised and the tips of his claws exposed.  "I have to 
keep them safe.  It took too long train them."  Redics provided translation.

  Garvin chucked.  He looked back at Redics and T'yonnosh.  "You said the Ti Phorus 
took some damage.  How bad?"

  "Bad.  It will take a while.  We'll need some help," Redics answered.

  "You'll get it," Jim promised.

  "Thank you."

  "The presentation starts at 1700 hours.  We should get moving."  Jim gestured toward 
the lifts.

  The ride in the lift was a reminder of the current state of Yrboti technology.  The car 
itself was equipped with null-g braces and cushioning on all surfaces.  These precautions 
were not necessary on the residential and administrative levels of the station.  In those 
areas, artificial gravity generators were in place.  Yrboti space stations and ships had all 
been designed without the benefit of artificial gravity.  The generators were among the 
first items Yrbo had requested from its new ally, the Alliance of Free Worlds.

  As the lift passed through the main torus of the station's body, it moved out of one 
gravity field and into another.  From 1.6g to .7g and back.  When the shift hit, everyone 
instinctively grabbed for the braces.  Except Zanth.  He merely sank his claws into the 
padding of the floor.

  The lift stopped on the lower main deck and opened to the entrance of the assembly 
hall.  They followed the short hallway to a set of oversized doors.  Standing at the 
doorway was a pair of Yrboti military guards.

  It was Redics' first look at the host race in person.  Yrboti were generally short, under 
1.5 meters.  They were thin, sinewy, but thick skinned; the product of a high-gravity 
planet and an unusually bright home star.

  Garvin put on his diplomat's smile and introduced himself according to Yrboti customs.  
Redics and T'yonnosh copied the ritual, first touching their foreheads with the tips of 
their fingers, then crossing their arms on their chests.  The palms were never shown 
during an introduction, nor the thumbs.  To do so would have been a crude form of insult.

  The Yrboti guards did not return Garvin's smile.  Yrboti never smiled to anyone's 
knowledge.  One of the guards pointed at Zanth.

  "This creature unsafe is.  This creature permitted is not."  Their syntax was not as 
difficult to understand as their voices.  The words were inhaled and their vocal cords 
laced their speech with a peculiar grinding sound.

  Redics knelt by Zephanthus and laid his arm across the wide shoulders.  "This one our 
companion is.  This one sentient is.  Feel sorrow parting we would."  His speech was 
hesitant.  He had trouble structuring his sentences before he spoke them.

  "Permission we have," Garvin spoke up.  "Consul's word we have.  Agreement they 
give."  He spoke with far less trouble.

  The two stared at him a moment.  "Proof," one demanded.

  From a hidden pocket in his loose-fitting shirt he withdrew a finger-sized stone.  It was 
polished and etched with a seal used by the Yrboti government.

  One of the guards took the seal-stone and, rather than look at it, hefted it in his gnarled 
hand.  His eyes never left Jim's face.  After a moment, he handed it to his partner, who 
repeated the procedure.  The stone was given back to Garvin and the second guard said, 
"Yes.  Permission given.  Creature permitted."

  Garvin pocketed the stone and gave a polite, "Thank you."  He took a step forward, but 
was halted by the second guard's outstretched arm.

  "Appendage this one possesses explain."  A leathery finger was pointed at Redics.

  Redics blinked, uncertain what the Yrboti meant.  He looked at Jim.

  "Better tell him, Redics," he said.

  Redics' brows went up.  "What?"

  "They want you to explain," T'yonnosh put in.  "I think you should."

  Befuddled, Redics could only repeat himself.  "What?"  He looked at the two Yrboti, 
confused.  "What appendage are you talking about?"  He didn't feel inclined to follow 
rules of Yrboti syntax just then.

  The pointing finger lowered, aimed at his pelvis.  Redics' expression twisted.  "You've 
got to be kidding me," he muttered.  "Explaining I am not.  Anatomy elsewhere you can 
learn."

  "Redics," Garvin began.

  "Hey, I'm wearing clothes, what else do they want from-"  At that point Redics looked 
down at the area in question and caught a glimpse of something that definitely did not 
belong.  Something long, thin, and furry.

  He looked up at Jim.  Deadpan expression there.  He looked at T'yonnosh.  The 
caniform was smirking ever so slightly.

  Redics reached behind him and grabbed the pseudo-tail.  It came off with a slight tug.  
He held it before him.  It was a perfect mock-up of T'yonnosh's own tail, with a spot of 
semi-solid fastener at the base.

  "What meaning this has?"  the first guard asked.

  "You took the words right out of my mouth," Redics mumbled.  He glared at T'yonnosh, 
who was grinning in his odd little way.

  "Insurance against rising eyebrows," he explained.

  Redics turned to Garvin.  "You two let me walk all over the station with this thing 
hanging- you three!"  He switched his attention to Zanth.  The tundra cat wasn't paying 
the least bit of attention.

  "What could I do?  He said, `play along'.  So I played."  A faint smile crossed his 
superior's face.  "You know, I've always thought there was something lacking about you."

  Redics shook his head.  "I should beat you three unconscious with this," he said, 
swinging the tail.  He couldn't help smiling, though.  It was a good prank.

  He considered the two Yrboti guards.  They understood nothing of what had just 
happened.  The corner of his mouth twitched.

  "Honor to me you would give?  Trifling gift you would accept?"  He held out the 
tailpiece.

  The Yrboti were hesitant.  "Protocol no," said one.  "Precedence no," his partner added.

  "Esteemed accept."  Redics lowered his head.

  The guards looked at each other.  They looked at Redics.  Reluctantly, the first guard 
reached out and took the 'gift'.  Upon touching yet, he made a strange sound.  He stroked 
the synthetic fur gently.  His partner reached over and rubbed it as well.  He seemed 
equally impressed.  Nothing on their home world grew such a fine, soft covering.

  They quickly snapped out of their reverie.  They conversed shortly, then each removed 
something from his uniform.  With faces as grave as ever, they each handed Redics a 
small square ornament.  In his hand was a pair of beautifully polished translucent stones 
caged within fine silver filigree.

  "Uhh, Redics-", T'yonnosh began.

  "I know."  he said, dismayed.  "Too late to back out now."  To the Yrboti he said, 
"Gratitude we express."

  "Gratitude," replied the guards.

  The one closest to the doors keyed the release.  The doors parted silently, allowing the 
sights and sounds of the assembly to pour through.

  The first thing Redics noticed about the assembly hall was the towering windows set in 
the outer walls.  Through them he could see the leading edge of Yrbo arcing majestically 
across the view.  The movement was due to the station's rotation, necessary to provide 
gravity through most of the main torus.  The floor of the hall was a flattened section of 
the torus' cylindrical bulk; the windows were actually located in the 'bottom' of the 
immense cylinder, facing the home world.

  "That tail may just come back to bite you," Garvin noted, interrupting his thoughts.  
Redics turned away from the windows to look at Jim.  "Possibly," he admitted.  The four 
of them took a few steps into the hall, skirting the edge of the crowd.

  "Impressive," T'yonnosh stated.  Redics glanced at his partner, but the spectacular view 
was not what had claimed that one's attention.  The myriad races and cultures swarming 
through the hall were the source of his comment.  With a single, casual inspection of the 
crowd T'yonnosh could single out eleven different races, including his own.  The thrum 
and buzz of conversation filled his ears.  A confusing mixture of scents reached him.  
Colors and motion all vied for his acknowledgment.  It was almost overwhelming.

  Against the wall opposite the windows was a presentation platform.  Arranged in 
seemingly random positions around it were chairs, racks, pits, slings, and other devices 
used by various races for setting oneself at ease.  Behind the platform was a large 
projection screen.

  With a slight push on the pair's shoulders, Garvin declared, "Go.  Mingle.  And keep 
your eyes open."

  Redics resisted the prompt and turned to his superior with an annoyed look.  "Just a 
minute.  What exactly are we trying to find?  And what do you want done it we find it?"

  Garvin lowered his voice and drew them closer.  "There's been a whisper about 
someone trying to embarrass the Yrboti government at this function.  What they have 
planned and who is responsible is unspecified."

  "Embarrass?"  Redics questioned skeptically.

  Garvin shrugged.  "Someone's political agenda.  Violence hasn't been mentioned and 
seems unlikely, but just in case..."  He left his sentence unfinished.

  "I don't like this," T'yonnosh all but growled.  "Political agendas and space stations don't 
mate well."

  Redics nodded.  He was all too familiar with the fragility of space stations when persons 
unknown wished to cause problems.

  Garvin fairly bristled.  "Hey, I'm not some damned neo with an invincibility complex.  I 
know a low tech station is a soft target, and we have ICC security keeping watch.  I just 
want some experienced eyes on my side."

  Redics and T'yonnosh kept any other reservations they might have had to themselves.  
Except one.

  "We're empty-handed right now," Redics said.  He declined to add that their lack was 
because no one had mentioned political agendas.

  Without hesitation Garvin produced two thumb-sized communicators and pressed them 
into their palms.  "Limited range, but long power cell life," he commented.

  "Stunner?"  Redics queried.

  "I'd rather there were no weapons in the hall."

  Redics frowned.  "I suppose Zanth could bite any troublemakers."

  "Just don't skulk around like first year security cadets.  Enjoy yourselves."

  Before Redics could answer, T'yonnosh replied, "We aren't neos either."  Garvin 
accepted his reproach with a tilt of his head.  He then headed off in the direction of the 
platform where a small knot of people were talking intensely.

  Redics watched him go with a look of mild disgust.  "Enjoy ourselves," he muttered.

  T'yonnosh elbowed him gently.  "Yes.  Enjoy ourselves.  Better than playing with 
mercenaries, hmm?  I saw Sesh a moment ago.  Let's go talk to him."

  "Sesh?  Huh.  Yeah."  His mood brightened.  "Come on Zanth, we're going to enjoy 
ourselves."

  The three of them filtered through the shifting crowd, returning the occasional greeting.  
By the time they reached Sesh, he had already seen them coming and hailed them 
cheerfully.  He was the caniform ambassador for the nine worlds that made up the 
Genemorph Confederation, and an old friend.  

  He was dressed in a simple yet elegant robe of pale blue.  Robes were the clothing of 
choice among caniforms, when they chose to wear any.  Robes didn't constrict or press 
against the fur.

  Nilway Sesh excused himself to Ket'k Loka Hennukk, the Pashii ambassador.  Ket'k 
bowed gracefully, her thin reptilian body swaying like a whistle reed, and sought other 
diversions.

  "Well, I guess everyone really is here," he quipped as he touched palms with T'yonnosh.  
"I am pleased to see you again."

  "Ssroumis mulmidt," T'yonnosh replied in the Formal mode of the adopted language of 
the Confederation.  Loosely translated, it meant 'honorable respects'.

  Sesh turned his bright green-gold eyes to Redics and clasped his hand warmly.  "And 
my favorite human is here as well," he teased.

  Redics smiled broadly and laughed.  "You're looking as fit as I remember."  He squinted 
at the ambassadors face.  "Though you seem to have collected some gray specks around 
your nose."

  "Time has been having its way with me," Sesh affirmed with mock despair.  In fact, 
though, Redics' observation had been sincere.  Sesh was trim and hardy, his pelt shining 
with its uncommon orange-brown tint.  The light flecks of gray and white around his 
muzzle were not the result of age, but a natural quirk inherited from his sire.

  Sesh greeted Zanth with equal pleasure, then asked in general, "Are you here for the 
first contact ceremonies?"

  Redics hesitated a moment before reclining, "I suppose we are."

  Sesh was puzzled by his answer, but before he could ask anything else, T'yonnosh 
exclaimed, "Dalthia!"

  Sesh's mate Dalthia was approaching with their son, Kitress, in tow.  Close behind them 
came Sesh's senior aide.  Dalthia was wearing a splendid silk robe that contrasted the 
muted gray-brown of her fur.  A matching 'bitdmoa', a folded cap of thin linen, perched 
lightly on her head.  The short trail of cloth that hung from the back of the bitdmoa 
performed the same function as a wedding band did for some Terrans.

  Another round of greetings was followed by Sesh introducing his aide to T'yonnosh and 
Redics.

  "This is Muremienstrietzsa Ceetesh, my primary assistant."

  Ceetesh stepped forward, his shorter robe allowing a clear view of the lines shaved in 
the fur of his legs and ankles.  Matching patterns were trimmed into the fur on his arms 
and neck.  Harder to see were the delicate tattoos on the insides of his triangular ears.

  T'yonnosh wondered about the obvious display of vanity.  Compared to his employer's 
lack of body decorations, Ceetesh seemed almost flamboyant, and gave the impression of 
contempt for his actual station in life.  Then he remembered something from his cultural 
studies in school.

  As he touched palms with him, T'yonnosh asked, "From the Ruler's Line?"

  With a slight tilt of his head and an angle to his ears that lent a touch of hauteur to his 
reply, Ceetesh said, "Yes.  The Domain of Chuoreff, in the Burning Mountains of the first 
colony.  You have studied the Ruler's Lines?"

  "Only to trace my own family name."  T'yonnosh glanced at Sesh, who eyes were 
sparkling with mischief.

  "I thought your name might be a contraction," Ceetesh declared.  "What is your whole 
name?"

  "I am Ruether Tibrentkyonnosh."

  The Houses of Ruether and Muremienstrietzsa had been blood enemies centuries ago, 
during the time of the Ruler's Lines.

  The aide's eyes widened for a moment.  He recovered quickly and said, "I see.  
Interesting."  He glanced at Sesh, noticing the slant of the ambassador's ears: good 
natured amusement.

  "You knew?"  Ceetesh asked of his employer.

  "I did," Sesh admitted.  "I have long wondered what you might make of my friend of the 
Ruether House."

  The aide stiffened a bit.  "The Houses are long dead."  He turned to T'yonnosh and with 
forced good humor declared, "I am certain there is no need to anoint any th'rhyne blades 
with our blood today."

  The th'rhyne Ceetesh spoke of were ceremonial daggers used in blood feud battles.  
T'yonnosh thought briefly of exposing his wrists, the way to show non-hostility in the old 
rituals, but decided that would probably annoy the man further."

  Ceetesh asked permission to withdraw and talk to the Yrboti hosts.  Sesh let him go.

  "We have offended him."  T'yonnosh said with concern.

  "I will apologize to him later," Sesh assured him.  "He is too sensitive about the honor of 
his ancestor's House."  He turned to the pair and asked, "Will you be at the station long?"

  "We don't really have a choice," Redics piped up.  Again Sesh was puzzled by the 
human's cryptic reply.  He pressed for details, and Redics gave him a brief account.

  While they were talking, T'yonnosh noticed that Kitress and Zanth were trading discreet 
nudges.  They must be bored silly, he thought.  He was about to speak to Kitress when 
Dalthia gently placed her hand on his shoulder to claim his attention.

  "How have you been?" she asked quietly.  "It has been almost two years since we have 
seen you."

  Dalthia was an exceptional woman, intelligent and charming.  T'yonnosh had wondered 
more than once what might have happened if he had met her before Sesh.  What struck 
him most about her, though, was her voice.  She had what T'yonnosh considered to be 
the perfect voice.  It was at once both strong and gentle, with the velvety rumblings that 
could quicken the pulse of almost any conscious male.

  "I've been well.  Healthy, happy.  Occasionally harried."

  She smiled at that and returned with, "A condition with which I am familiar."  She drew 
closer and lowered her voice even more to ask, "Have you paired yet?"

  T'yonnosh shook his head, human habit, and said, "No.  I spend too much time 
working."

  She studied him a moment.  "Mm.  You spend all your time with him."  A minute tip of 
her head indicated Redics.

  "Most, not all," he corrected.

  "Perhaps the two of you should be paired," she suggested with a mischievous grin.

  T'yonnosh laughed.  "No.  He's the wrong species, the wrong gender."  He remembered 
something Redics had said long ago, and added, "And he smells odd when he's wet."

  The two pairs talked a few moments longer before separating.  Before they did, Kitress 
asked if he might stay with Zephanthus for a while.  Sesh and Dalthia seemed to hesitate.

  "I will keep a close watch over him," Zanth promised.

  Before he provided translation, Redics asked, "Who will watch over you?"

  "This is boring," the tundra cat complained.  He chafed at the restriction Redics had set 
for him.  He looked up at the railed balcony that circled the hall.  "We want to go up 
there and watch."

  Redics glanced up at the balcony, then looked at Zanth.  He seemed sincere in his 
promise to watch over the boy.

  "Zanth will keep an eye on Kitress," he told the boy's parents.  The two spoke a few 
words among themselves, then agreed.

  As the tundra cat and the eight-year-old caniform boy made for the lifts, T'yonnosh 
caught Redics' attention.

  "Does he remind you of anyone?"  He nodded toward the retreating boy.

  Kitress wore an open fronted tunic and shortened breeches trimmed with dyed leather.  
He was also not wearing any shoes.

  "Yes, he does," Redics admitted.  He paused.  "He resembles his father a great deal."

  T'yonnosh gave him a look, but said nothing.

  The partners resumed their casual circuit of the meeting hall.  They watched for 
anything unusual, but nothing caught their eyes.

  At one point, they met an Yrboti diplomat named Stretreten.  He had a talent for 
stringing his words in reverse to make himself understood to non-Yrboti.  He also had the 
annoying habit of dominating a conversation to the point of tedium.  Before they could 
politely cut him off, he had quite thoroughly explained Yrbo's financial situation and the 
implications of his world's new ties to the Alliance.

  "Our metal-fiber technology were of special interest to the Alliance," he told them.  
Redics wondered if he would have a chance to tell Stretreten that he needed to work 
harder on his tenses.  He doubted it.

  Yrboti, Redics noticed while pretending to be interested, used metals for clothing more 
than any other material.  He wondered if that was related to the guards' reaction to the 
synthetic fur.  Most of the Yrboti he could see were wearing large pieces of spun-metal 
cloth wrapped around their bodies.  The metal cloth seemed to move just has freely as the 
materials Redics was used to seeing.

  "And just recently," the diplomat went on, "your Commerce Council's navy had 
expressed an interest in building a new shipyard in orbit around the outer planet in our 
system.  I'll be negotiating the occupancy fees and construction contracts."

  T'yonnosh noticed a table where a myriad of refreshments had been laid out.  His ears 
lifted a bit.  When Stretreten took a breath, he announced, "I'm thirsty."  He looked at 
Redics and added, "I think I'll go get something to drink."

  Redics watched him go, wishing he had thought of the excuse first.  A minute later, his 
reprieve came.  The senior Director of the station, a revered woman called Prulim, 
approached the podium and called for order among the crowd.  Stretreten hastily excused 
himself and made for one of the slings closest to the platform.  Redics breathed a quiet 
sigh of relief and moved forward for a better view.

  The buzz of conversation died down as those attending took to the chairs and other 
seats.  Redics decided to stand toward the back rather than crowd in among all the others.  
The Director soon addressed the audience with the usual pleasantries and welcomes.  
Applause mixed with a few other noises rose across the hall.

  "We have gathered at this place to rejoice in the safe return of our fellow beings, and to 
congratulate them on the success of their mission.  As most of you know, we are also 
here to celebrate the skill and good fortune which allowed them to make first contact 
with an unknown race."

  Prulim was elderly and had been an exceptional linguistics teacher.  She was quite adept 
with the root language of the Alliance.  Redics noticed she was one of the few who wore 
clothing made of 'wisa', a plant material from Yrbo.

  The Director spoke a few minutes more then gave the podium to the leader of the 
diplomatic mission.

  While the mission leader was talking, T'yonnosh sidled up to Redics and handed him a 
container of coffee.  In his own hands was a cup of spiced milk.  He couldn't stomach the 
dark, bitter stuff Redics drank.

  After thanking him and taking a few careful sips, Redics asked, "Seen anything 
interesting?"

  T'yonnosh licked his thin lips and replied, "No.  No odd behavior, no unexpected 
faces."

  Some time later, the mission leader was done with his report.  Redics said softly, "I'm 
beginning to sympathize with Zanth.  This is boring."

  About that time, the next speaker was introduced.  Her name was Ria J'uoch, her last 
name being pronounced 'yock'.  She was the telepath assigned to the team.  She had 
considerable experience in first contact procedures and had lead the attempts at 
communication with the disabled ship.

  Redics stared at the young woman as she made her opening remarks.  He had the feeling 
he had met her before.  It was possible, of course.  He had met to many people over the 
years.

  "Does she seem familiar to you?" he asked his partner.

  T'yonnosh studied the woman.  She was a typical human to his eyes, though he 
supposed other humans would see her as attractive.  Her dark brown hair was threaded 
with woven strands of spun silver.  Brilliant green eyes held her audience intently.  She 
moved with an easy grace between the podium and the lit display screen.

  "Not really."

  Redics turned to T'yonnosh.  "She's a human telepath?"  The caniform nodded.  He 
turned back to the presentation.  "Isn't that sort of unusual?"

  "There are probably some altered genetics at work in her somewhere," T'yonnosh 
replied.  Humans, he thought, often forgot that animals weren't the only ones who's DNA 
had been tinkered with during the 21st century."  

  On the platform, Ria wiped the display behind her and cleared her throat.  This was the 
moment she dreaded most.  Despite the variety displayed right there in that hall, 
presenting the visuals of an unfamiliar species would still cause murmurs, even among 
such jaded beings as were present.  They could never know the thrill, the pulse-pounding 
excitement of picking up the threads of thought from a race never seen before.  And this 
race was even more intriguing than most.  They possessed what she called 'clean' minds, 
unencumbered by self-conflict.  The experience went far beyond the physical for her.

  All the admirals and ambassadors would see, though, was the video record, a dull and 
lifeless thing in comparison.  She called up the video file from the podium controls and 
continued her briefing.

  "After we secured permission and the engineer got a solid seal with the docking boom, 
we went aboard.  It took us a few minutes to explain the purpose of our video equipment 
to them, so the images you will see are not of the first moments of contact, but shortly 
thereafter."

  Ria engaged the player and turned up the audio.  She moved off to one side to watch the 
crowd's reactions.

  On the display screen, a hazy view of deckplates and someone's shoes wavered then 
snapped into crisp focus.  "Got it," the camera operator said.  The view tilted up to show 
the back of someone's head.  A quiet "Excuse me," was followed by a close shot of the 
mission leader's face.  Dexeter Rhimbellion blinked, grunted, and shuffled out of the 
way.

  The audience now had a clear picture of Ria J'uoch facing several of the disabled ship's 
crewmembers.  Redics' first and strongest impression was that they were roughly 
insectoid.  They were six-limbed with bizarre skin that seemed to refract light.  Their eye 
color also seemed to constantly change.

  The image of Ria slowly advanced toward the closest alien.  She spoke only a few 
words, and those were directed to her comrades.  She was communicating with the aliens 
using the few pictures/impressions/thoughts that she had found common between them.

  "I can't get a clear idea of their race name," she said distractedly.  Suddenly she stopped.  
"Wait.  Whoa!"

  "What?" Dexeter's voice came from off camera.  He then inhaled loudly as the lead 
alien moved.  It basically crawled using all six limbs but, unlike any insect, it moved with 
a machine's smoothness and precision.  It advanced up to the frozen telepath and stood, 
balancing on its rear 'legs'.  It was obviously not built for such a posture.

  "Ria!"  Someone hissed in alarm.

  "No," she replied calmly.  "Dex, it's curious."

  A tense moment passed while the alien's flat, wide head moved just a few inches from 
Ria's.  The camera focus zoomed in on the two.

  The creature's head was mounted on a short but flexible neck and was split by a long 
mouth.  The lips, such as they were, did not meet.  Oddly, there was no sign of teeth 
emerging from the pale, wet gums.

  "It wonders..."  She concentrated harder.  "It wonders how we...eat."  She smiled.  "With 
such small mouths," she added.

  Ria eased the idea of a display across and was met with agreement.  She started with a 
smile that show her teeth, then opened her mouth to expose tongue and molars.  The 
alien's head abruptly swiveled to vertical so both its widely set eyes could focus on her.  
After a moment's scrutiny, it backed off a bit.  Ria felt [reciprocate: display: query] brush 
across her awareness, and she agreed.

  The alien's mouth opened, but not with the rear hinge humanoids are used to.  Instead, 
the upper and lower jaw were cartilaginous and opened from the middle to form a large 
'O'.  To everyone's surprise, long, black needle-teeth emerged from the gums, then 
retracted.  Ria leaned closer.  

  Redics winced.  "Uhh."  He took a long drink of his coffee and looked elsewhere.  He 
tried for a moment to locate Sesh, but couldn't find him.

  T'yonnosh glanced at his human partner.  Something about insect-forms, large or small, 
always upset Redics.  When they had been children, it had been the small crawling 
beetles that sometimes found their way indoors.  When Redics later met his first 
Kaferian, a large, sentient insectoid from Tau Ceti, the reactions became more severe.  
T'yonnosh found this fear irrational, but kept his opinion to himself.

  "They're probably quite pleasant, once you get to know them," he said quietly.

  "Maybe," Redics replied with a frown, "but there's nothing they could do to get me that 
close to one of those things."

  T'yonnosh regarded him a moment before saying, "And how long did humans need to 
get used to the genemorphs they had created?  A century?"

  Redics looked back up at the display screen.  "Yeah," he mumbled.  The video ran out 
and the screen went blank.  "But that was before we learned to scratch behind your ears."

  T'yonnosh swatted him across the rump with his tail.


**************************
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