The Forgotten Way (Champions of the Crystal Book 6)

Chapter 6.1

"Sometimes I think that about my world, too," Sabrina said.

Ranfir turned to her. "How does Earth fit into the galactic migration?"

"I have no idea. We seem to be basically similar to you, for instance, though I'm going only by phenotype, not genotype. I'm not a scientist," she smiled. "Some of our cultures seem to have been influenced by races I've seen out here in the galaxy, but there's no proof. It's widely believed on Earth that we evolved there."

Ford broke in. "The few people who have studied the human genotype—myself among them—believe that they did evolve on their planet. However, there may have been some early tampering with their evolution to make them compatible with other races—the similarities are too exact to be coincidence. They may have been meant to grow into a race of slaves for an interstellar society that then collapsed."

"Gee, thanks," Sabrina muttered.

Ford chuckled. "Of course, the only humans we've ever had for samples were siblings, so perhaps it's a bit much to generalize."

"You should have chosen your guinea pigs more carefully," Sabrina said. "I'm sure if you'd given me a chance when we met, I could have rounded up some volunteers for your little joyride."

"The tinfoil-hat set? No thank you. I'm quite satisfied with the results of that trip," Ford said. "Among the many things I rarely get credit for is bringing you into the service of the galaxy as Praxatillus' emissary."

"For that," Ranfir said, "we are all grateful."

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"What's the matter?" Ford murmured into her ear in English as they prepared to disembark from the shuttle. "Just because you're the assistant doesn't mean you have to go all surly on me."

"I'm tired, Ford. I need sleep. I told you that at three o'clock this morning when you made me debate your soil-enrichment theory."

He looked contrite. "I'm sorry. I thought you were just complaining on general principles. Shall I get you out of this wretched state dinner?"

"If you can do it without offending anyone, you'll have my eternal gratitude. But you have to stop speaking English to me. It's rude," Sabrina reminded him before switching back to Lthosyenne. "Don't worry about me. I got by on a lot less sleep during the Regency."

"But I do worry," he replied. "This time not even you can make a case that you aren't my responsibility."

"True." Sabrina smiled. "How refreshing to have it out of the way that everything is going to be your fault! Now. My Realm protocol is non-existent. Do I have to walk two paces behind you, or something?"

"No matter whose protocol we're following, you are still my family," Ford said, offering her his arm. "I will never consent to having you walk two paces behind me. I wouldn't be able to tell what kind of faces you were making." He turned to Ranfir. "We're ready when you are, Lord Ranfir."

"After you, your highness."

The air was hot but dry, Sabrina realized as they stepped out onto the ramp. The landing field was dusty, and the light breeze kept the dirt moving. The poor honor guard looked half-coated already, she thought.

The High Lord had not come out to meet them, choosing to stage the reception indoors. The pale sun seemed strong to Sabrina after her time cooped up in a ship and before that a space station, and she was glad she wouldn't have to stand in it long. Between sleep deprivation and the smells of a new planet, she didn't feel up to sustained effort. Something in the air here made a primitive part of her brain twitch.

"Relax," Ford whispered to her as they reached the shade of the outer palace wall. The complex, only a single story high, sprawled almost as far as Sabrina could see, squinting against the sun. "It's bad form to look like you expect to be murdered."

"Sorry," she murmured, trying to comply. "I don't adapt as quickly as you do."

"Their air is a bit thinner than you're used to," Ford noted. "You'll adjust." He slowed their pace a little.

At last they reached the main hall of the palace, a light, airy space as opposed to the nearly windowless hall they had passed through. Sabrina blinked, dazzled, and stopped when Ford did. Ranfir stepped up beside them and addressed the thin, grey-haired man sitting on the throne-like chair in the center of the room. "Uncle, I have the honor to present to you Prince Niavar nar Tassan, firstborn of the Guardian, here to assess our problems on behalf of the Realm. I also present his assistant, Lady Sabrina Devon."

Sabrina let go of Ford's arm and dropped a curtsy, aware of Stecklan bowing behind her. Ford exchanged half-bows with the High Lord and waited for their host to speak first.

Finally the High Lord said, "I welcome you on behalf of the people of Fiersai. We are a proud people, and have always been self-sufficient. But we appreciate the Realm's concern for us."

Ford said, "The Realm of Miah has always had a special concern for those in difficulty. Miah herself was a refugee, after all. We hope we can be of assistance in returning Fiersai to its previous peaceful state and resolving any other problems you are having."

The High Lord waved a hand in a vague gesture of irritation, Sabrina thought, though reading body language in an unfamiliar culture was always risky. "I believe you will find that our problems are being addressed, Prince Niavar, but you are welcome to find out for yourself."

"It is the hallmark of good governments to address their own problems," Ford said. "We wish merely to see if we can help you in the implementation. The Realm does not interfere with planetary affairs."

"I am pleased to hear it. My Chancellor will escort you to various parts of the planet to inspect conditions. He will meet with you before dinner. Meanwhile, I am sure you wish to rest and refresh yourselves."

"Thank you, Your Excellence," Ford said. He led the way to the door, where a steward awaited them. Ranfir remained behind.

"So. Can I do diplomacy?" Ford murmured to Sabrina, taking her elbow to guide her around a rough patch in the stone floor as they walked down another narrow, dark hallway.

"I never doubted it. It's a natural outgrowth of knowing how to get your way," she replied with a smile. "But don't get cocky yet. The hard work hasn't even started."