The Colors of Space

"Do not speak of it here," said the old Lhari sharply. "There are

Mentorians in the crowd who might understand us." He turned and looked

straight at Bart, and Bart felt as if the slanted strange eyes were

looking right through to his bones. The Lhari said, in Universal, "Who

are you, boy? What iss your businesssses here?"

Bart replied in the same language, politely, "My father's coming in on

this ship. I'm looking for the information desk."

"Up there," said the old Lhari, pointing with a clawed hand, and lost

interest in Bart. He said to his companion, in their own language,

"Always, I regret these episodes. I have no malice against humans. I

suppose even this Vegan that we are seeking has young, and a mate, who

will regret his loss."

"Then he should not have pried into Lhari matters," said the younger

Lhari fiercely. "If they'd killed him right away--"

The soaring staircase swooped up to the top level; the two Lhari stepped

off and mingled swiftly with the crowd, being lost to sight. Bart

whistled in dismay as he got off and turned toward the information desk.

A Vegan! Some poor guy from his own planet was in trouble with the

Lhari. He felt a cold, crawling chill down his insides. The Lhari had

spoken regretfully, but the way they'd speak of a fly they couldn't

manage to swat fast enough. Sooner or later you had to get down to it,

they just weren't human!

Here on Earth, nothing much could happen, of course. They wouldn't let

the Lhari hurt anyone--then Bart remembered his course in Universal Law.

The Lhari spaceport in every system, by treaty, was Lhari territory.

Once you walked beneath the lightning-flash sign, the authority of the

planet ceased to function; you might as well be on that unbelievably

remote world in another galaxy that was the Lhari home planet--that

world no human had ever seen. On a Lhari spaceport, or on a Lhari ship,

you were under the jurisdiction of Lhari law.

Tommy stepped off a moving stair and joined him. "The ship's on time--it

reported past Luna City a few minutes ago. I'm thirsty--how about a

drink?"

There was a refreshment stand on this level; they debated briefly

between orange juice and a drink with a Lhari name that meant simply

cold sweet, and finally decided to try it. The name proved

descriptive; it was very cold, very sweet and indescribably delicious.

"Does this come from the Lhari world, I wonder?"