"Be my guest."

"I found it revolting at first to think of being friends with a Terran, but after being around you for a brief time, that became a more attractive idea than otherwise. We seem to have more in common than I would have believed possible--do you have any idea why?"

"I know exactly why, and I think you could figure it out for yourselves--but you're like the ones at home. You don't want to think about it."

Kelly frowned. "I must lack information, because I've been trying to figure it out since you began training."

Medart grinned. "You have the necessary information. Want me to prove it, or just tell you outright?"

"Prove it," Kelly challenged.

"Remember you asked for it, and try not to attack me. I trust you both, but I also remember how strongly the ones at home reacted to the same information."

"I will control myself. Haley?"

"The same."

"Okay. You remember I told Ryan I recognized the design of Clan Vader's arms from seeing the Saga as a child?"

"I remember," Kelly said.

"And your Standard is almost the same as Imperial English, right?"

"Right."

"And you know the Shapers began creating the Sandeman race from their own genetic material in 2130, according to the calendar you and the Empire share."

"Every child knows that."

"Uh-huh. Given all that, tell me where the Shaqers originated."

Kelly thought about his statements, her expression going from intent to disbelief to revulsion. "They came from Terra!"

"They sure did," Medart said. "Which makes you Terrans, too. An improved version, so changed my Empire cla.s.ses you as human variant rather than standard human--but Terrans. And that makes you Imperial citizens by right of birth."

"That's obscene!" Haley burst out.

"Matter of opinion," Medart said calmly. "Both personally and as a Prince of the Empire, I think it's great--as long as you're not fighting the Empire you're rightfully part of."

"Ryan has to know about this," Kelly said. "Haley, would you please inform him and ask him to join us?"

"Yes, lady." Haley stood and bowed to her, then left.

"Is it really that bad?" Medart asked the w'woman as soon as the young warrior was out of hearing. "It doesn't change what you are, how you live, or have any other bad effects; what it does is give you new opportunities." He grinned. "I'm biased, of course--have been since I first met Sandemans. I've liked you even when I couldn't identify the reasons, and that grew when I could. Your absolute integrity is one, and it's also one of the most valuable things you've brought to our Empire."

"Put that way," Kelly said slowly, "it sounds almost reasonable. But you didn't grow up hating the Shapers and everything about them."

"You can't hate everything about them," Medart pointed out. "They did manage to engineer your race, after all. I personally think they were absolute, unmitigated idiots for thinking they could create and then control a race of the most deadly warriors in the known universes--but from my own experiences with Sandemans, I can't help but be grateful to them at the same time."

"Grateful to whom?" Ryan asked as he entered the room. "The Shapers, if I interpret what I heard correctly."

"You did," Medart told him. "They committed one of the worst crimes in Imperial history, meddling with human genetics just for the fun of it--but the results were so good I can't fault them totally for their arrogance."

Ryan smiled, taking the seat Haley had vacated. "It's good to see you feeling well again, Prince, and able to converse. So we are Terrans, are we?"

Medart nodded, pleased by the clan-chief's calm reaction. "Yes." Then he raised an eyebrow, grinning, and said, "You knew, didn't you? That emphasis on the first 'are' was a giveaway."

"We--the clan-chiefs--have known for centuries." Ryan sobered. "Or strongly suspected, at least; all the evidence pointed in that direction."

"So why in Chaos haven't you done anything about it?" Medart demanded.

Ryan shrugged. "You know we aren't as powerful as your n.o.bles, Prince.

We can only lead our people where they want to go--and that hasn't been into the Empire."

"But you could have told them, at least!"

"Not and lived," Ryan retorted. "You, of all people, must know how deeply unacceptable that particular truth is to most of us. Coming from you it's bad enough; coming from us, it would trigger a reaction I prefer not to think about."

Medart nodded, reluctantly. "I think I can understand that. What's going to happen now that I've spilled the beans?"

"The warriors' hall was full when Haley gave me the news; I'd imagine it's spreading as quickly as people can get to commsets or cast the necessary spells." Ryan looked serious. "I should contact the clan-chiefs as well. Prince James, would it upset you to speak to all the chiefs through me?"

"Not a bit--I'd jump at the opportunity."

"A moment, then, while I cast the spell. And some will need a few more moments to wake up."

"Go ahead." This wasn't anything he could have expected, Medart thought, and he had no idea what effect it would have. A drastic one, he was sure; Sandemans weren't known for moderation in their reactions, especially to strong stimuli, and this was one of the strongest possible. If he lost the duel, it could easily send them back into combat with the determination to eliminate every trace of the Shapers and their kin. If he won, their reaction was less predictable. They wouldn't continue the war; honor wouldn't permit that. But that still left two possibilities. They might pull back and refuse all further contact, or--Medart's earnest hope--they might decide to give the Empire the benefit of their improvements, and join it. Here, they'd be a full Sector--probably the biggest one, Medart thought, and certainly the strongest.

"Ready," Ryan said. "I'm linked to all the clan-chiefs and Warleaders available, Prince James. They see and hear what I do, and can speak through me if I permit. Would you summarize what you told the lady Kelly and the student warrior Haley?"

"Gladly." Medart did so, thinking that he preferred something like the Mjolnir Conference, where he could see that he was talking to a group.

This was like talking to a camera, he supposed--but it felt decidedly peculiar, speaking to one person and knowing hundreds of others were watching and listening through that person's eyes and ears.

"That's it," he said at last. "Now what?"

"Now what, indeed," Ryan said. "I think that determination will be primarily up to you, Highness. Bryan of Alanna wishes to speak to you." His eyes lost focus for a second; when they regained it, Medart knew it was the Alanna addressing him.

"I am Bryan of Alanna," Ryan said, confirming that. "Are you aware that we have been following your training, Highness, as one of the most important events in this sphere?"

"I've been too preoccupied to give any consideration to my news value,"

Medart said. He didn't particularly enjoy being on public display, even after a lifetime of it--especially when he was at his worst. But he'd been there before, and if he survived he'd be there again; he could handle it. "I suppose it does make sense, though. What about it?"

"Your efforts have done you great honor, and earned you more regard than I can recall being given any other Terran. We understand your motive is to win our friendship or alliance as well as peace--but do you really believe one person can achieve that after three years of war?"

"I don't know," Medart admitted. "All I can do is try my best and hope. I know you from my universe, remember, and I achieved it once, even though the circ.u.mstances were drastically different."

"Dell, of Raynor," Ryan said, his voice changing as another chief spoke. "Why did none of this universe's Terrans make such an effort?"

"You didn't give them a chance. They know you the way we knew the Traiti--as ferocious, bloodthirsty killers. It took the Traiti asking one of my colleagues to take their Ordeal of Honor for him--and later the rest of us--to learn about them as they really are. I know that about you from home, so naturally I'm willing to take the same sort of chance to give you and this Empire the opportunity to become friends."