At The Edge Of Space (Hanan Rebellion) Read Online Free PDF Page B

directness and a pity that disquieted him.
    “You are afraid of us,” Kta observed.
    “Did Djan make you my keeper only because you asked, or because she trusts you in some special way—to watch me?”
    Kta’s head lifted slightly. “Elas is loyal to the Methi. But you are guest.”
    “Are nemet who speak human language so common? You are very fluent, Kta. Mim is. Your—readiness to accept a human into your house—is that not different from the feelings of other nemet?”
    “I interpreted for the umani when they first came to Nephane. Before that, I learned of Mim, and Mim learned because she was prisoner of the Tamurlin. What evil do you suspect? What is the quarrel between you and Djan-methi?”
    “We are of different nations, an old, old war. Don’t get involved, Kta, if you did only get into this for my sake. If I threaten the peace of your house—or your safety—tell me. I’ll go back. I mean that.”
    “This is impossible,” said Kta. “No. Elas has never dismissed a guest.”
    “Elas has never entertained a human.”
    “No,” Kta conceded. “But the Ancestors when they lived were reckless men. This is the character of Elas. The Ancestors guide us to such choice, and Nephane and the Methi cannot be much surprised at us.”
    The nemet’s lives were uniformly tranquil. Kurt endured a little more than four days of the silent dim halls and the hushed voices and the endless bowing and refraining from untouchable objects and untouchable persons before he began to feel his sanity slipping.
    On that day he went upstairs and locked the door, despite Kta’s pleas to explain his behavior. He shed a few tears, fiercely and in the privacy of his room, and curtained the window so he did not have to look out upon the alien world. He sat in the dark until the night came, then he slipped quietly downstairs and sat in the empty rhmei, trying to make his peace with the house.
    Mim came. She stood and watched him silently, hands twisting nervously before her.
    At last she pattered on soft feet over to the chairs and gathered up one of the fleeces, and brought it to the place where he sat on the cold stone. She laid it down beside him, and chanced to meet his eyes as she straightened. Hers questioned, greatly troubled, even frightened.
    He accepted the offered truce between them, edged onto the welcome softness of the fleece.
    She bowed very deeply, then slipped out again, extinguishing the lights one by one as she left, save only the phusmeba, that burned the night long.
    Kta also came out to him, but only looked as if to see that he was well. Then he went away, and left the door of his room open the night long.
    Kurt rose up in the morning and paused in Kta’s doorway to give him an apology. The nemet was awake and arose in some concern, but Kurt did not find words adequate to explain his behavior. He only bowed in respect to the nemet, and Kta to him, and he went up to his own room to prepare for the decency of breakfast with the family.
    Gentle Kta. Soft-spoken, seldom angry, he stood above six feet in height and was physically imposing; but it was uncertain whether Kta had ever laid aside his dignity to use force on anyone. It was an increasing source of amazement to Kurt that this intensely proud man had vaulted a ship’s rail in view of all Nephane to rescue a drowning human, or sat on the dock and helped him amid his retching illness. Nothing seemed to ruffle Kta for long. He met frustration by retiring to meditate on the problem until he had restored himself to what he called yhia, or balance, a philosophy evidently adequate even in dealing with humans.
    Kta also played the aos, a small harp of metal strings, and sang with a not unpleasant voice, which was the particular pleasure of lady Ptas upon the quiet evenings,—sometimes light, quick songs that brought laughter to the rhmei, —sometimes very long ones that were interrupted with cups of telise to give Kta’s voice a rest,—songs to which all the