“The war is finished,” said Duncan. “Over. A dead matter.”
“So are the mri,” Niun said, forced himself to that bitterness, repudiating tsi’mri generosity and all its complicated demands. The weakness was on him again, a graying of senses, a shudder in muscles too long under tension. He clenched his hand on the counter, drew a deep breath and let it go, brought focus to his vision again. “I do not know why you are aboard alone,” he said. “One of us does not understand the other, kel Duncan.”
“Plainly put,” said Duncan after taking in that fair warning. “Perhaps ,J am mistaken, but I thought that you would realize I tried to do well for you. You are free.”
Niun cast a look about at the controls, at the alien confusion of a system unlike the regul controls that he knew only in theory. A thin trickle of sweat went down his left side, beneath the robes. “Are we escorted?” he asked.
“We are watched, so far,” Duncan said. “My people aren’t that trusting. And neither you nor I can do anything about that guidance system: we’re on tape. Maybe you can tear us free of that, but if you do that, I don’t doubt it will destruct itself, the whole ship.”
This, at least, had the ring of sound reasoning. Niun thought it through, his hand absently soothing the head of the dus that sat up beside him.
“I will go present what you say to the she’pan,” Niun said at last. He dismissed the dus ahead of him with a soft word and followed after it and its fellow, leaving Duncan in possession of controls. Duncan could kill them all; but Duncan could have done that long since if that had been his purpose. He could have put them in confinement, but it was possible that the entire ship was a prison, guarded from the outside. The question remained why Duncan chose to be in it with them. Niun suspected that it had to do with the human’s own curious feelings of honor, which apparently existed, far different from those of a mri.
Or perhaps it had nothing to do with Duncan’s bond to his own kind; perhaps it was that to him, that they were both kel’ein, and lived under similar law, under the directions of others, and one chose what he could, where he could. He could comprehend that a man might find fellowship with another kel’en, that he might one day have to face and destroy. It was sung that this had happened.
It was never well to form friendships outside one’s own House; it was proverbial that such attachments were ill-fated, for duty would set House loyalties first, and the commands of the she’pan first of all.
CHAPTER Eight
IT WAS done.
Duncan stood and watched the mri depart, and knew that soon the she’pan Melein must come, to assume nominal control of the ship, now that Niun had assured himself that there would be no resistance or offense to her.
That was the way with the mri, that the she’pan made the decisions when she was available to be consulted. It was something that Boaz could have told the military; it was something that he himself could have told those that had laid the plans for security on Flower, had they asked that the mri kel’ein, the black-robes, that had made themselves a terror wherever they had gone, were not the authority that must be considered.
Niun had not understood the artifact he revered. That also did not surprise Duncan. Niun, competent as he was, refused to know certain things that he did not consider appropriate for him; he had to consult Melein before any act of policy, given the chance to do so. Upon this, Duncan had relied desperately. It had worked. He felt vindicated, freed of a weight that had been on him for days, now that he saw Niun whole and on his feet, and bound precisely where he had calculated he would go.
He found himself with a curious lack of fear for the thing that he had done”. Fear, he felt lying awake at night, remembering the ruin in the heights, the nightmare of Sil’athen, the inferno that had come down on them; or smiling at the regul who had tried to kill him and killed a sentient species instead. Of the mri he had only a knowledgeable respect.