"Yes. I was angry when I found out, yet also pleased to keep my life.

I learned much of myself when I thought I was to die." Hovan looked down at Steve, into the man's troubled eyes. "I learned that I was stronger than I thought, ruhar, and I also learned the limits of my strength. I could not bear the burden of the Decision you must make.

That it is asked of you shows you can bear it."

Tarlac had to smile at that. He felt himself no equal to Hovan's calm strength, but it was rea.s.suring 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."

"Are you sure that will happen?"

"How can I be sure? I'm a Ranger, not a G.o.d--but I know how it affected Kranath, how it affected me. There's a chance it wouldn't hurt, I guess--Traiti might not believe me. That might cushion the shock, let 'em realize gradually that it is true." He paused, feeling the dilemma. "Do I have the right to take that chance, though? Just a few words . . ."

It was difficult for Hovan to remain outwardly impa.s.sive, hearing the strain in the man's voice. Inwardly, it was impossible. By all the Lords, Hovan thought angrily, this was wrong! Why should Steve be given such terrible responsibility for a people with whom his own were at war? Steve didn't even know what Kranath's Vision meant!

He wasn't supposed to help in the Decision at all, not give even the slightest hint of what he thought was right, and he had no intention of doing so--but every youngling knew about Kranath's Vision and its significance; there could be no harm in telling Steve that much.

"Steve, ruhar . . ."

Tarlac looked up. "What is it?"

"A story of the end times, ruhar, when all hinges on one man, for good or ill."

"Me. I've known that since before I landed on Homeworld. So what? It looks like whatever I do, Traiti die." Tarlac was being rude and knew it, but he didn't particularly care. He was too caught up in an awful private vision of Ch'kara gone mad.

Hovan spoke quietly, picking his words with care. "Yes. You have known for some time that you will bring peace or die in the attempt, and if you fail we also die. You chose that burden freely, and it does you much honor. But you have been given another burden, unasked.

Kranath's Vision, it is said, brings the end of this cycle, and he who has it will determine the next cycle, for good or ill. That is you, ruhar . . . and I am sure you will--"

"Will what?" Tarlac interrupted bitterly. "I thought it was bad enough, trying to take the Ordeal and bring peace. Now I'm supposed to start a new era, and avoid racial insanity, too?"

Hovan shook his head sadly. "I can say no more, Steve, except-- remember always the purpose of the Ordeal."

"Purpose. Yeah. Only I'm beginning to think there is no purpose.

This whole d.a.m.n thing's impossible."

But Hovan's words roused Tarlac from his exhausted depression and made him think, with all a Ranger's problem-solving acuteness.

Start with one thing: Hovan had told him the Lords didn't ask the impossible, and his experience as Kranath confirmed that. They might ask things just short of impossible, but anything they asked could be done.

All right. That meant there was a solution; he just had to find it.

Hovan hadn't stated as a fact that Kranath's Vision would bring the end of this cycle, but that idea gave him background he needed.

Wait a minute. It couldn't be a coincidence that the Vision and the cycle's end came together--but it also couldn't be the cause-and-effect relationship Hovan seemed to think. The cycle had already ended, ten years ago, when the Empire and Traiti had first met. The Traiti were no longer isolated, whatever happened.

And he'd already accepted responsibility for determining the new cycle, by agreeing to the Ordeal. If it was death, he'd share it. If it was peace, the Traiti would be exposed to Imperial culture, and he'd help them make the best synthesis they could of it and their own.

That simplified things again, to whether or not he should tell them of their origin. And it brought up what had to be the real consideration.

Did he have the right--was it honorable--to deny the Traiti knowledge of their heritage? Whatever the consequences?

Put that way, the answer was obvious. He did not.

Hovan had given him that answer, before either of them knew the question, the day they'd landed on Homeworld. Tarlac remembered asking, surprised, if the unworried-seeming civilians knew how the war was going, and the reply was apt here too: "Such things must in honor known be."

Hovan repeated the phrase, and Tarlac realized he must have spoken aloud--in English, for the first time since he'd been given Language.

"What things?" Hovan asked, still in English.

"That you're as much a Terran, and as such a citizen of the Empire, as I am." He took a deep breath, then went on in Language. "Kranath's Vision was . . . well, as thoroughly as Terra's been explored, I'd have said it was impossible. It's hard to believe archaeologists would miss--" He broke off, telling himself to get to the point. "Hovan, what Kranath's Vision showed me was that the Traiti originated on Terra. Those who went before moved your ancestors here, because they were convinced that human population pressure would overwhelm you."

Hovan looked perplexedly at the man walking beside him. Although Steve's words seemed to make sense, Hovan found them difficult to absorb. "But the Lords . . ."

"The Lords know, yes." Kranath did, so the others must . . . "They couldn't tell you, because the time wasn't right. I'm not sure it is now, either, but that's not what has me worried." Tarlac paused.

"Kranath was shocked pretty badly when he found out, Hovan, and so was I, even though he protected me from the worst of it. That's why I'm scared. As badly as it hurt us, mightn't it leave a lot of people more than hurt, knowing they've lost their first--their true--home? Home's so much more important to you than it is to most humans . . . I'm afraid that learning that Homeworld isn't really your home might be as devastating for most of you as being captured."

Hovan was silent long enough to worry the Ranger, and when he spoke at last, Tarlac was practically holding his breath.

"It is not a pleasant feeling," Hovan said slowly. "I can understand your reservations, ruhar; in your place, I cannot say what I would do."

He was silent again, for long enough to let Tarlac reflect that he might be troubled, but he was clearly neither insane nor dying. After some thought, Hovan added, "I probably would not believe it from someone not of Ch'kara; I know I would not wish to believe it. But finding that I share such a tie with you, Steve, does not distress me."

Tarlac managed a faint grin. "That's a help, and I appreciate it. Do you think all of Ch'kara"--all of the Traiti?--"would feel like that?

Because I am going to have to tell them. That's the only honorable thing to do."

"That is the Decision you have made?" Hovan asked formally.

"It is."

"Then as your sponsor, I may say that you have decided correctly."

"Thanks, ruhar." Tarlac was still worried, but Hovan's acceptance of his story eased his fear. He felt relieved, almost refreshed. "But how to do it best is another question. I'd feel safe enough telling a Speaker about it--"

"Or a Cor'naya?"

"Yes." 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. I don't like what learning about that loss may do to them. I guess I'll just have to hope it's not as bad as I'm afraid it will be."

"I do not like such a risk either," Hovan said. "But since you have made your Decision, I may advise you, if you wish."

"I wish," Tarlac said grimly.

"If you judge it possible, I would advise silence a little longer.

Those who concern you will be able to accept such things more easily from one who has earned Honor scars, as you soon will."

Tarlac didn't feel, at the moment, like restating his conviction that he wouldn't survive the last test of his Ordeal--but he still felt it.

By his previous reasoning, though, if the Lords had trusted him with Kranath's Vision, which they had, there was a good chance he'd be around afterward to make the safest possible use of it for the Traiti race. If the Vision itself wasn't enough to accomplish that . . .

"Hovan, I'd like to ask a favor of you, as my sponsor."

The ma.s.sive figure walking easily beside him nodded. "I believe I know what."

"Probably, as well as you know me." Tarlac felt warmth for his ruhar.

"If I die before I can tell this the way I should, I'd like you to do it for me. You're Cor'naya, and respected even by other n'Cor'naya."

It all fitted so well that Tarlac wondered for a moment if Hovan had been selected to meet him and become his sponsor, the same way he himself had been selected to meet the Traiti. It wouldn't surprise him at all, given what he'd learned, but he didn't let himself dwell on the implications.