Starfarers by Poul Anderson. Chapter 21, 22, 23, 24

“Otherwise, how do you like being back?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s, aside from the family trouble, it’s, oh, cordial.” She smiled uncertainly “I am a romantic figure, after all. And finding my way around in the new generations, that’s a challenge. You’ll enjoy it, too. And you’ll be still more glamorous.”

“No,” he grunted. It was as if his tongue spoke on its own. “I’m a tumy, remember?”

“Kenri!” She stiffened beneath his arm. “What a way to talk. You aren’t, and you know it, and you won’t be if you’ll just stop thinking like one —” She drew up short. “I’m sorry, darling. That was a terrible thing to say.”

He stared at the lake view.

“I’ve been . . . reinfected,” she said. “You’ll cure me.”

Tenderness welled in him. He kissed her again.

“Ahem! I beg your pardon.”

They pulled apart, dismayed. Two men had entered. The first was gray, gaunt, erect, his night-blue tunic agleam with decorations. After him trailed a young person, pudgy, gaudily clad, not overly steady of gait. Kenri and Nivala rose. The Kithman bowed, arms crossed on breast.

“Oh, how nice.” Nivala’s voice had gone thready. “This is Kenri Shaun. Kenri, my uncle, Colonel Torwen Jonach from Canda, of the Supreme Staff. And his grandson, the Honorable Oms.” Her laugh jittered. “Fancy coming home to find you have a cousin twice removed, your own age.”

“Your honor, Lieutenant.” The colonel’s tone was as stiff as his back. Oms giggled.

“You will pardon the interruption,” from Canda proceeded. “I wished to speak to Lieutenant Shaun as soon as possible, and must leave tomorrow for an … operation that may take many days. You will understand that this is for the good of my niece and the entire family.”

Kenri’s armpits were wet. He prayed they wouldn’t stink. “Of course, sir. Please be seated.”

From Canda nodded and lowered his angular frame to the bench, beside the Kithman. Oms and Nivala took opposite ends. “How ’bout we send for wine?” Oms proposed.

“No,” from Canda told him. The old man’s eyes, winter-bleak, sought Kenri’s. “First,” he said, “I want to make clear that I do not share the prejudice against your people. It is absurd. The Kith is demonstrably the genetic equal of the Star families, and doubtless superior to a number of their members.” The glance went briefly to Oms. Contemptuously? Kenri guessed that the grandson had tagged along, half drunk, out of curiosity or whatever it was, and the grandfather had allowed it lest he make a scene.

“The cultural barrier is formidable,” from Canda went on, “but if you will exert yourself to surmount it, I am prepared in due course to sponsor your adoption.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kenri felt the room wobble. No Kithman had ever — That he — He heard Nivala’s happy little sigh. She clutched his arm.

“But will you? That is what I must find out.” From Canda gestured at something unseen. “The near future will not be tranquil. The few men of action we have left shall have to stand together and strike hard. We can ill afford weaklings among us. We can absolutely not afford strong men who are not wholeheartedly loyal.”

“I … will be, sir. What more can I say?”

“Better that you ask what you can do. Be warned, much of it will be hard. We can use your special knowledge and your connections. For example, the badge tax on the Kith is not mainly to humiliate them. The Dominancy’s treasury is low. This money helps a little. More importantly, it sets a precedent for new levies elsewhere. There will be further demands, on Kithfolk as well as subjects. You can advise our policy makers. We don’t want to goad the Kith into forsaking Earth.”

“I —” Kenri swallowed a lump. It was acid. “You can’t expect —”

“If you won’t, I cannot compel you,” said from Canda. “But if you cooperate, you can make things easier for your former people.”

It surged in Kenri: “Can I get them treated like human beings?”

“History can’t be annulled by decree. You should know that.”

Kenri nodded. The motion hurt his neck.

“I admire your spirit,” the colonel said. “Can you make it last?”

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