Kennard clenched his fists, striding angrily up and down the room. His voice choked with rage, he said, “You mean that I can get a cadet commission for some poor relation, or for my bastard son by a whore or an idiot, sooner than for my own legitimately born younger son!”
“Kennard, if it were up to me, I’d give the lad his chance. But my hands are tied. There has been enough trouble in Council over citizenship for those of mixed blood. Dyan—”
“I know all too well how Dyan feels. He’s made it abundantly clear.”
“Dyan has a great deal of support in Council. And Marius’ mother was not only Terran but half-Aldaran. If you had hunted over Darkover for a generation, you could not have found a woman less likely to be accepted as the mother of your legitimate sons.”
Kennard said in a low voice, “It was your own father who had me sent to Terra, by the will of Council, when I was fourteen years old. Elaine was reared and schooled on Terra, but she thought of herself as Darkovan. I did not even know of her Terran blood at first. But it made no difference. Even had she been all Terran … ” He broke off. “Enough of that It is long past and she is dead. As for me, I think my record and reputation, my years commanding the Guard, my ten years at Arilinn, prove abundantly what I am.” He paced the floor, his uneven step and distraught face betraying the emotion he tried to keep out of his voice. “You are not a telepath, Hastur. It was easy for you to do what your caste required of you. The Gods know I tried to love Caitlin. It wasn’t her fault But I did love Elaine, and she was mother to my sons.”
“Kennard, I’m sorry. I cannot fight the whole Council for Marius, unless—has he laran?”
“I have no idea. Does it matter so much?”
“If he had the Alton gift, it might be possible, not easy but possible, to establish some rights for him. There are precedents. With laran, even a distant kinsman can be adopted into the Domains. Without it … no, Kennard, Don’t ask. Lew is accepted now, even respected. Don’t ask more.”
Kennard said, his head bent, “I didn’t want to test Lew for the Alton gift. Even with all my care, it came near to killing him. Hastur, I cannot risk that again! Would you, for your youngest son?”
“My only son is dead,” Hastur said and sighed. “If I can do anything else for the boy—”
Kennard answered, “The only thing I want for him is his right, and that is the one thing you will not give. I should have taken them both to Terra. You made me feel I was needed here.”
“You are, Ken, and you know it as well as I.” Hastur’s smile was very sweet and troubled. “Some day, perhaps, you may see why I can’t do what you wish.” His eyes moved to Regis, fidgeting on the bench. He said, “If you will excuse me, Kennard … ”
It was a courteous but definite dismissal. Kennard withdrew, but his face was grim and he omitted any formal leave-taking. Hastur looked tired. He sighed and said, “Come here, Regis. Where have you been? Haven’t I trouble enough without worrying that you’ve run away like a silly brat, to look at the spaceships or something like that?”
“The last time I gave you too much trouble, Grandfather, you sent me into a monastery. Isn’t it too bad you can’t do it again, sir?”
“Don’t be insolent, you young pup,” Hastur growled. “Do you want me to apologize for having no welcome last night? Very well, I apologize. It wasn’t my choice.” He came and took Regis in his arms, pressing his withered cheeks one after another to the boy’s. “I’ve been up all night or I’d think of some better way to welcome you now.” He held him off at arm’s length, blinking with weariness. “You’ve grown, child. You are very like your father. He would have been proud, I think, to see you coming home a man.”
Against his own will, Regis was moved. The old man looked so weary. “What crisis kept you up all night, Grandfather?”
Hastur sank down heavily on the bench. “The usual thing. I expect it’s known on every planet where the Empire builds a big spaceport, but we’re not used to it here. People coming and going from all corners of the Empire. Travelers, transients, spacemen on leave and the sector which caters to them. Bars, amusement places, gambling halls, houses of … er … ”
“I’m old enough to know what a brothel is, sir.”
“At your age? Anyway, drunken men are disorderly, and Terrans on leave carry weapons. By agreement, no weapons can be carried into the old city, but people do stray across the line—there’s no way of preventing it, short of building a wall across the city. There have been brawls, duels, knife fights and sometimes even killings, and it isn’t always clear whether the City Guard or the Terran spaceforce should properly handle the offenders. Our codes are so different that it’s hard to know how to compromise. Last night there was a brawl and a Terran knifed one of the Guardsmen. The Terran offered as his defense that the Guardsman had made him what he called an indecent proposition. Must I explain?”
“Of course not. But are you trying to tell me, seriously, that this was offered as a legal defense for murder?”
“Seriously. Evidently the Terrans take it even more seriously than the cristoforos. He insisted his attack on the Guardsman was justifiable. Now the Guardsman’s brother has filed an intent-to-murder on the Terran. The Terrans aren’t subject to our laws, so he refused to accept it and instead filed charges against the Guardsman’s brother for attempted murder. What a tangle! I never thought I’d see the day when Council had to sit on a knife fight! Damn the Terrans anyhow!”
“So how did you finally settle it?”
Hastur shrugged. “Compromise, as usual. The Terran was deported and the Guardsman’s brother was held in the brig until the Terran was off-planet; so nobody gets any peace except the dead man. Unsatisfactory for everyone. But enough of them. Tell me about yourself, Regis.”
“Well, I’ll have to talk about the Terrans again,” Regis said. This wasn’t the best time, but his grandfather might not have time to talk with him again for days. “Grandfather, I’m not needed here. You probably know I don’t have laran, and I found out in Nevarsin that I’m not interested in politics. I’ve decided what I want to do with my life: I want to go into the Terran Empire Space Service.”
Hastur’s jaw dropped. He scowled and demanded, “Is this a joke? Or another silly prank?”
“Neither, Grandfather. I mean it, and I’m of age.”
“But you can’t do that! Certainly they’d never accept you without my consent.”
“I hope to have that, sir. But by Darkovan law, which you were quoting at Kennard, I am of legal age to dispose of myself. I can marry, fight a duel, acknowledge a son, stand responsible for a murder—”
“The Terrans wouldn’t think so. Kennard was declared of age before he went. But on Terra he was sent to school and required, legally forced, mind you, to obey a stipulated guardian until he was past twenty. You’d hate that.”
“No doubt I would. But I learned one thing at Nevarsin, sir—you can live with the things you hate.”
“Regis, is this your revenge for my sending you to Nevarsin? Were you so unhappy? What can I say? I wanted you to have the best education possible and I thought it better for you to be properly cared for, there, than neglected at home.”
“No, sir,” Regis said, not quite sure. “It’s simply that I want to go, and I’m not needed here.”
“You don’t speak Terran languages.”