"Twenty-eight," the youth supplied.
"On twenty-eight worlds. Each time a player of promise enters the arena, his efforts there are recorded and studied-"
"And when they get good enough, you recruit them?"
"That's why we are here, Bhodi Li," Li-hon said. "To offer you the honor of challenging for a place among us and the glory of contributing to the defense of your home world."
"Me?"
"Why are you surprised? Haven't you boasted that there is no one who is better in the arena than you?"
"But that's completely different-"
"Are you refusing the honor offered?"
"I'm just trying to understand," Jarvis protested. "If you've got so many worlds, why do you recruit from places that don't even know the war exists? Can't you get enough from the homeworlds?"
"The kind of war we're fighting isn't anything like in the twentieth century," Parcival said. "It's more like a medieval combat where both sides send out their champions and everybody else sits on the sidelines and drinks mead. There's no mass armies, not yet anyway."
"Then I'm even more confused. If you only need a few soldiers, why can't you find them inside the-what did you call it, the Photon Alliance?"
Parcival said, "Every species has something special to contribute. And the more resources the First Guardian has to call on, the stronger we are."
"The First Guardian-what is that, your president, or king or something?"
"The First Guardian is the supreme commander of the Guardians of Light, to whom Parcival and I have both sworn our service and allegiance," said the alien. "To complete the answer to your last question, there is also a matter of honor."
"Honor? What's honor got to do with it?"
"The First Guardian knows that to announce our existence to Earth would cause great shock and disarray. But the First Guardian also knows that if Earth did have full knowledge of the crisis, it would insist on contributing to its own defense. This way, we are not responsible for Earth experiencing either the pain of learning or the shame of life obligation," Li-hon said.
"If that's what you're trying to do, you're not as smart as you think you are," Jarvis said. "You kidnapped me in front of hundreds of people. You may have had a secret, but you sure don't now."
Parcival smiled in silent amusement as Li-hon answered. "If you refuse the honor, the device that brought you here is capable of replacing you at the instant you were, as you call it, kidnapped," the alien said. "You will remember nothing, and you will never have been missed." He hesitated, then added, "Now we have answered enough questions. It is time for you to decide."
"Not so fast," Jarvis said sharply. "Okay, so if I say 'No thank you,' I go back. What happens if I accept? Does that make me a Photon Warrior?"
"No," Parcival said. "That's only the beginning."
"No one becomes a Photon Warrior without passing through the Three Refusals," Li-hon said. "Three times, you will be asked to give up your challenge. After the first refusal, your education will begin. After the second, your training. After the third, your service. Only then will you be a Photon Warrior. Only then do you become a Guardian of the Light. If you fail at any point, or give up your challenge, you will be returned to Earth just as we have already described."
"And until then, what's happening at home? Time doesn't stop for them."
"No," Parcival said. "The timeline proceeds for them. But nothing's real, and nothing's permanent. When the transporter replaces you in their past, the Universe itself will edit out the invalidated events. Don't expect to understand it now."
"Enough," Li-hon said. "Bhodi Li, you have earned on merit the right to challenge for a place among the Guardians of Light. Will you give up your challenge?"
Jarvis looked at Parcival, then at Nar-lex-ko-li-hon. What a choice, he thought. I'll say yes, I'm out of this free, without even any memory of it to make me feel like I chickened out. If I say no, I can go to the stars — but only as a soldier-in-training for a war that I've got no stake in. Or no stake that I can see, anyway. What a choice — but what a chance -
"No," he said firmly. "I won't give up my challenge." Parcival smiled and raised a clenched fist, while Li-hon nodded approvingly. "Parcival will show you your quarters," the sergeant said, rising up on his powerful legs. "We'll get underway as soon as the flight checks are complete."
CHAPTER FIVE
En route to the crew quarters, Jarvis learned that the ship was named Fraanic. Parcival explained that a fraanic was a small tree-living creature from a world in the Sadr system.
"It screams bloody murder when a predator comes near," Parcival said. "It makes a sound kind of like a cat being put in a blender tail-first."
"How would you know what that sounds like? Or maybe I shouldn't ask."
"It's just an analogy," Parcival said impatiently. "I like cats. Anyway, it makes a perfect name for a scoutship, don't you think?"
"You have bigger ships?"
"Oh, sure," was the cheerful reply. "The Alliance classes ships by the size of the fractional drive they carry. We're running under a one-mass-as small as they come. Our platoon's assault ship, the Zephyr, has a three-mass. The biggest ships we ever use run a six, though there're civilian freighters and general carriers out of Foppo that go as high as an eight."
"Seems like what you'd want to do is jack up a scout with an eight and get there that much faster."
Parcival shook his head. "It doesn't work that way. This ship is just as fast as a carrier with an eight-mass. The only difference favors this ship-its quicker, more agile."
"Because it's smaller?"
The youth started down a ladderway. "Because it has less mass," he called back over his shoulder. "Do you know any tensor calculus? If you do, I can explain it all to you in ten minutes."
Jarvis followed him down. "No. I barely passed Introduction to Trigonometry."
Waiting for him at the bottom, Parcival looked disappointed. "Oh, well. In that case, I couldn't explain it to you in ten years." He gestured at the new surroundings. "Are you lost yet?"
"Not quite."
"The layout of the ship is really pretty simple-unless you need to go into the tech crawl ways. The upper deck has the transporter chamber, the chart room, the bridge, the mapping and sensor stations. Downstairs there are all the personal areas-berths and galley and such. That's my quarters there," Parcival said, pointing at what looked like a blank wall.
"I think I've got it-except I have trouble spotting the doorways."
"Look for the touchplates. The doorways are always to the right."
"Must have been designed by lefties."
"As a matter of fact, the race that builds these is exclusively left-handed. You know, you're taking this all very well," Parcival said approvingly as he led Jarvis to the end of the corridor. "You wouldn't happen to be a science fiction fan, would you?"
"You mean, like, books?"
"Sure. Heinlein-Asimov-Silverberg-Doc Smith."
Jarvis shook his head. "No. I don't read much." Then he added, "But I've seen the Bud Light space station commercial a lot."
Parcival chortled and reached out to a touchplate on the right wall. "In here," he said as the doorway appeared.
The cabin was no larger than a walk-in closet even before Parcival showed Jarvis how to fold down the cot and unfold the collapsed storage bins. "Sergeant Li-hon couldn't turn around in here, much less relax," Jarvis said. "Are all the cabins this small?"
"Yes and no. The sergeant has a double-wide. And the cabins are modular-the shipwrights can customize the space to the species that are going to be aboard. This is a standard human berth. Mine's just like it."