Caitlin had watched avidly, without a thought for her own safety, despite being in the position of a human caught in a room when two walruses went at each other. Okay, small walruses, granted. But the Jao method of hand fighting was a lot like sumo wrestling—combined with a use of their big teeth, which would have had any human referees frantically blowing whistles. By the time Tamt finally left Banle lying on the floor hammered into a pulp, they'd just about wrecked that room in the clinic.
Caitlin's own cot had been included in the wreckage. She'd had to scramble hastily aside, at the end, broken arm or no, when the battle finally brought the two Jao her way.
She hadn't minded. Tamt had put the cot to good use, pounding Banle's head against it until the cot was in splinters—twisted metal, rather—and Banle was unconscious.
She sighed happily, even with the pain. Yes, that was a memory to cherish.
But, there was more. Caitlin had been very lonely too, and she knew she'd enjoy Tamt's company, once she managed to overcome the Jao female's odd combination of shy reticence and social awkwardness.
Thoughts of loneliness, however, brought up another subject. One which Caitlin could no longer avoid thinking about.
She opened her eyes, just to slits, in order to peek.
Yup. Ed Kralik was looking at her. As usual, with that still face and those gray eyes that revealed as little as possible. But Caitlin wasn't fooled. That was not the look of a major general, that was the look of a man—and one who'd apparently decided that the fact he was almost twice her age just didn't matter.
Which, it didn't. Rather the opposite, actually, from Caitlin's point of view. Her world would chew up any man she knew her own age. Kralik, on the other hand . . .
Yeah, maybe. And isn't it nice, for the first time in my life, to allow that word into my lexicon? Such a nice word.
Maybe.
Chapter 29
Oppuk knew he should get back to his palace in Oklahoma City as fast as possible, but he was still too furious to travel. If he had boarded his personal transport and been cooped up with only a few attendants, he most likely would have slaughtered them all to satisfy his wrath and then been forced to find replacements.
He had already sent a message back to the primary Narvo kochan-house on Pratus, requesting experienced servitors to be dispatched to him from the home world. They . . . might, or might not be. Replacements for staff killed by rebels might possibly be provided, even though he had been out of favor now for many cycles. But replacements for those killed out of pique most certainly would not.
Instead, he stalked down to the unsatisfactory local sea with its audacious golden sand and swam the rest of the day, submerging beneath the tossing waves until his brain reeled from lack of oxygen, his vision went gray, and he was forced gasping back up into the damp air.
How dare that Pluthrak upstart! He should have taken the pieces of that broken bau and rammed them through the jinau officer's brain! If Oppuk wished to kill one of these filthy humans, then he would! Terra was overpopulated anyway. It did no harm to thin the herd.
He swam back to the beach and stalked out dripping in the cool air. His service hovered with an air of respectful-attention, watching from a prudent distance to see what he desired.
One of his new staff approached, ears properly deferential, but shoulders outright alarmed. Marb, perhaps, or was it Ullwa? Oppuk turned his back, refusing to have such an unharmonious combination inflicted upon him.
"Governor?"
It was Marb, then. Though their vai camiti were similar, he could distinguish the pair's voices. "I hear you," he said, in no mood for inanities.
"We have received news from the observation station in orbit," Marb said. "Dreadful news!"
Oppuk turned and regarded the servant with half-lidded cool-indifference. "Compose yourself," he said. "If you wish to serve at this level, you must remember above all else to move well."
Marb closed her eyes, exhaled, then dropped into a sketchy version of concerned-haste. "The framepoint in this solar system is showing activity," she said. Her ears betraying fear, despite all efforts to control herself. "The advance signature is not Jao!"
Oppuk froze. His mind raced, but his thoughts refused to come together and make sense.
The Ekhat, here?
"It is too soon," he said finally. He felt his body all adrift, every line gone to meaningless, babbling angles. "This lazy, primitive world is not ready."
"What do you wish us to do?" Marb's eyes were filled with the bright striations of terror.
"Alert my staff," Oppuk said, "and ready my transport back to the palace."