And their own first dealings with the humanoids of Century III had been less than pleasant. The High King Jorran and his entourage had come to Sha-Ka'an the previous year, when the visitor restriction had been lifted for the competitions that Challen had opened to one and all in hopes of finding a lifemate for Shanelle among the winners. Shanelle hadn't known that was the purpose of the competitions, and the winner wasn't guaranteed to be chosen, but Jorran hadn't seen it that way.
He hadn't competed either, competition being much too undignified for his esteemed self. No, he had demanded to fight the winner who had gone through the process of elimination in the appropriate way, and Falon, being that winner, could have refused to fight him, should have refused, yet he didn't. No one suspected that Jorran's intention was to kill him, rather than just defeat him.
The competitions had been friendly matches of strength and skill, not the deadly fight Jorran tried to make of them. Falon didn't find that out until after he had accepted Jorran's challenge and Jorran used not a normal sword but a razor sword. This was a weapon so light and maneuverable that there was no way to avoid it by normal means, nor was Falon able to.
He would have died if a meditech unit hadn't been handy, he had been sliced up so badly. He would have lost the match as well if he hadn't given up using his own weapon and simply taken Jorran out with his fist instead, just before he passed out himself from loss of blood.
This was when Shanelle, fearful of having Falon for her lifemate, had run away. And Falon, determined to have her, overcame his own fears of space travel to follow her. Challen had already given her to him, and Falon wasn't going to let a mere thing like a universe keep him from her. Nor had the Sunderans been able to keep him away, despite their promises to the contrary.
"Shani, this is not our responsibility," Tedra said now. "Just because we know what those rods are capable of, and what a first-class jerk Jorran is, doesn't make this our problem. The League will be given all the information we have and will do what's appropriate with it. We are already late getting home, and I refuse to make Challen continue to worry."
"I will go after Jorran and see to the proper destruction of those rods. "
Both women turned toward Dalden, his silence until now having made them forget he was with them. Shanelle was merely surprised that her brother would want to involve himself personally when matters outside of Sha-Ka'an had no interest for him. Tedra's own surprise was brief, her response less than diplomatic.
"No," she said.
4
DALDEN SMILED AT TEDRA. SHE WAS HIS MOTHER, BUT HE was a Sha-Ka'an warrior full-grown, which made all decisions his own to make, and she knew that. She could make her objections known to him, but in the end the decision was still his.
"I have no choice in this matter," he told her. "You wondered how the High King could have had knowledge of the rods before he came here for them? That knowledge came directly from me."
"How?" she demanded, "and when? You weren't even home, had left with Falon to fetch Shani back. And Sha-Ka'an closed down to visitors again right after the competitions."
"All did return to their respective planets-except Jorran. He was still at the Visitors' Center when we returned. It was necessary that I go there as well, to negotiate with the Catrateri on Falon's behalf. They were still eager to trade for the gold from his country."
"But how did you end up having anything to do with Jorran, after what he tried to pull at the competitions? I would have thought you would have ignored him like the insect he proved to be."
"And I would have, but a man with such a high opinion of himself as Jorran has cannot comprehend that someone might dislike him or not want to be 'honored' by his attention. There was a dinner for a newly arrived ambassador. The Catrateri had been invited to it and insisted that we could continue our negotiations over fine food. Jorran invited himself, and of course the head of the Center would not think to insult him by asking him to leave."
"No, Mr. Rampon is the administrator there because he's about as diplomatic as they come. I doubt he even knows how to insult someone. It's just not in his genes."
"I could wish that it were not in mine."
This was said in such a tone that it brought an immediate blush to Tedra. Challen didn't insult people, after all, so Dalden certainly wasn't talking about the genes he had gotten from his father.
"Let's stick to specifics," she grumbled. "How did you happen to have words with Jorran? The dining hall at the Center is huge. You could have gone through the entire evening without getting within forty feet of that Centurian jerk."
"Except that he sought me out specifically, to question me about Falon. He did not pretend indifference, nor hide his underlying anger over the subject of his interest."
"Don't tell me his nose was bent out of shape figuratively, after Falon bent it out of shape literally? It's really too bad the meditech unit corrected that."
"I gathered the same, that he was still at the Center for no other reason than he had waited for Falon to return, with some sort of revenge in mind. Falon was unaware of this, or he might well have obliged him. But he had gone straight home to Ba-Har-an with Shanelle when we returned, and no visitors could get to his country, so the High King was forced to give up and go home, which he was scheduled to do the next rising."
"So mention of the rods occurred when he grilled you about Falon?"
Dalden shook his head, even sighed. "I would not speak of Falon with him, other than to give Jorran no doubt that Falon was beyond his reach. Speaking to him at all put a foul taste in my mouth that I tried to wash away with Mieda wine."
"You should have just left."
"I am aware of that."
"How did the rods get mentioned, then?"
"It was toward the end of the dinner. I spoke no more with Jorran, but I made sure I was close enough to hear anything he might say. He was talking with the people at his end of the table about the tedious process of mind control in Century III prisons, to rehabilitate their lawbreakers and make them useful members of their realm again. I mentioned that even a low-tech people like the Sunderans had mind control down to a fine art, and instantaneous, at that. It was a deliberate attempt at subtle insult of which I am ashamed."
That Dalden would have used phrases like low-tech and fine art, words he gained from having a "visitor" for a mother, not words a warrior would use, showed just how drunk he had been that night. And he probably didn't even realize that whatever means Jorran's people would use for mind control was probably gained from offworlders; they weren't even low-tech, they were no-tech at all. Not that any of that mattered when the damage had already been done.
"Martha, did you know what Dalden had done that night?" Tedra asked.
"Sure did. You kept me on the Rover at the time, if you'll remember, so I could keep tabs on Shanelle. And after what Jorran tried to pull during the competitions, he was on my personal list of 'keep under surveillance' as well."
"Why didn't you mention this sooner?"
"Because Jorran's intention was to return to his world, which he did. Despite the fact that he left us furious, he had few options that might cause you trouble. His learning about the Altering Rods did set off alarms in my circuits, but when he gave absolutely no indication that it was something he felt he could take advantage of, I crossed him off my 'endangered species' list."