“Lucky you. I feel bad. Th’ cook sent this stuff along, but drinkin’ on another planet’s what got me like this in the first place.”
Hoss’s eyes lit a little at the sight of the bottle. “Ah, rishth! Just what we need.” He took the bottle from Bubba’s nerveless hands and poured them both a glassful. He tossed his back, closed his eyes, and held his breath. His face darkened, the loose skin twitching, his nostril flaring wide and his mane standing nearly on end. He began to shake all over, then let out his breath in one long sigh. He opened his eyes, shook himself, and leapt to his feet. “Come, Bubba,” he said in a perfectly normal voice. “We have a big day ahead of us.”
“If you had a single shred of decency,” Bubba growled, “you’d hang your head in the presence of the dead.” He picked up his own glass and sniffed; other than a faint touch of mint, he could smell nothing. “Oh, well. I can’t feel any worse, I s’pose.” Tipping his head back, he swallowed as quickly as he could.
It was tasteless, without even the hint of what he’d smelled, but it had an immediate effect. It felt as though every semi-permeable membrane in his body opened wide to soak up the liquid, and he could almost feel the adrenaline and endorphins pouring into his bloodstream, cleansing the poisons and scrubbing his system shiny and pink.
“Whooopf What a rush! I haven’t felt anything like that since the schoolmarm showed me how to multiply.” He was shaking like a leaf in a high wind and almost panting. With one final gasp, he felt every part of his body fall into place as if from a height of four feet, and was instantly awake and ready to eat a bear raw.
“Sumbitch! Don’t that beat all? What’s in that stuff?”
“Proteins, vitamins, amino acids, enzymes and a few herbs that only grow here. Why?”
“ ‘Why,’ he says. Look, all I got out of the last bucket of SauNA bait was unlimited electric power and the ability to go from zero to sixty without laying rubber. This stuff is important. What’s it do about brain-cell damage?”
“If you use it soon enough, none takes place. The brew we got into last night is benign enough that we’ve suffered none.”
“Might be worth while to see about taking some of this back. Hell, the market among Japanese businessmen alone… hmph. Boggles the mind. If people use this as their one-for-the-road, it would solve a lot of problems.”
“It could be a benefit for those who feel they must partake of ethanol—and certainly would help secure the well-being of any who might otherwise cross their paths at the wrong time and place,” Mike added.
“We have much to go through first, though,” Hoss reminded them.
“Damn right, we do. I’m feelin’ ten feet tall, covered with hair, and loaded for bear. C’mon, boys, time’s a-wasting. Let’s go take care of bidness.”
At the appointed time, they were escorted to the big double doors Bubba had seen at the end of the long hall by which they’d entered the day before. The two guards on duty pressed ornate panels simultaneously, and the doors opened inward to reveal a large room lined on three sides by raked seats, rising from front to back like a lecture hall. Long, high benches acted as desks for each of the seats, with periodic breaks for aisles. Every seat was occupied.
Hoss pointed out a group set off to the side as his Progenitors, while remarking that his father, as translator, was elsewhere in the room; the rest were, he said, the Full Council, with the Triad of Governors on a dais in the center. The Governors were clothed in full, multi-layered robes made from brightly colored but unfigured fabrics. Vaguely Japanese in design, there seemed to be complex windings and wide straps holding everything in place. Unless the whole thing had a zipper up the back, Bubba thought, it must take them an hour to get dressed. Aside from the human, they were the only ones in the room fully dressed, and they looked hot.
As they came abreast of the smaller group, a figure rose and made its way down to the floor where they stood. Walking with a determined but nonthreatening stride, it halted directly in front of the group and planted its feet.
“My Eight-Mother,” Hoss explained out of the side of his mouth. “She is… rebellious sometimes.” He made as if to back away from contact, but she grasped the front of his garment in both fists and wouldn’t allow him to move. There was a distinct and disapproving murmur in the hall at this. “There could be trouble.…”
“ ’Pears to me that she don’t much care, Hoss,” Bubba said.
One of the Triad stood and spoke loudly and firmly. Mike did a running translation at Bubba’s request.
“Eight-Mother Rinn, you may not have contact with your Eight-Son. You know the law.”
The woman half-turned to address him in a voice equally loud and even more stern.
“I am my clan’s eldest, sonny, and if I want to embarrass my progeny, what have you to say about it?”
“The Principle must be observed, Eight-Mother Rinn.”
She let go of Hoss and slowly turned all the way around to face the council, mane erecting to its full extent and eyes flashing.
“M’nath, Son of Kad, Son of Phli, Daughter of Nesh, isn’t it?” The Triad Governor nodded.
“Well, M’nath, Son-Of-No-One-Important, I have observed your damned silly Principle for 950 years now, and I can’t see that it has done much but cause pain and anguish. Look at you all!” she cried, waving an arm to encompass the whole room. “My Eight-Son saved your sorry bottoms from a war you couldn’t win, a war that would have bled this planet like a leech, and instead of according him the honor due him, you cast him aside like something you pulled out of your nose!”
The Triad Governor leaned forward and spread his hands. “Your Eight-Son will have his chance today. We wish him well, but the Principle cannot be ignored.”
Slowly, her mane fell, and she turned to the small group of Hoss’s Progenitors. She singled one out with narrowed eyes and said loudly enough for the group to hear, “Were it up to me, Three-Mother Leens, I would slap the shit out of you and then slap you for shitting.” She reached high and gently pulled Hoss’s right ear, then looked the human up and down.
“Ma’am,” he said, tipping his cap. The old woman sniffed, not in derision but as if to catch his scent, and then nodded. Head high, she climbed back to her seat.
“Damn, boy,” he whispered to Hoss. “She reminds me of my Aunt Gartha.”
Triad Governor M’nath spoke, arms wide as if to encompass the whole room, his voice carried by acoustic reflectors to every corner.
“Now is the time of Trial! As has been passed to us by our Progenitors from the Beginning, here and now shall the fate of the Unfortunate be decided. Here and now shall he show us the full extent of his worthiness—or of his dishonor.”
“Here and now,” echoed the council.
“Where is his Champion?”
“He stands before you, here and now,” cried one of the guards who had led them in.
“Who is his Champion? (Your line, Bubba, and include your lineage),” Mike added.
“I am Allen Poe Hudgins Pritchert, Son of Edna, Daughter of Howard, Son of Clarence,” Bubba said in a loud, deep voice. “I don’t know much about your rituals, but I stand for m’friend Hoss, here and now.”
The Triad Governors nodded approvingly.
“Here and now,” the council echoed again.
“Good,” Triad Governor M’nath said, almost conversationally. “Let’s get this started. Are you prepared for your Tasks, Allen Poe Hudgins Pritchert?”
“Damn straight. Here and now.”