The Colors of Space

"Don't--Meta, am I so horrible to you then? So--repulsive?"

"No, it's only--" she bit her lip--"it's just that the Lhari are--I

can't quite explain it."

"Different," Bart finished for her. "At first I was repelled--physically

repelled by myself, and by them. It was like living among weird animals,

and being one of the animals. And then, one day, Ringg was just another

kid. He had gray skin and long claws and white hair, just the way I once

had pinkish skin and short fingernails and reddish hair, but the

difference wasn't that I was human inside and he wasn't. If you skinned

Ringg, and skinned me, we'd be almost identical. And all of a sudden

then, Ringg and Vorongil and all the rest were men to me. Just people. I

thought you Mentorians, after living with the Lhari all these years,

would feel that."

She said in slow wonder, "We've lived and worked side by side with them

all these years, yet kept so apart! I've defended the Lhari to you, yet

it took you to explain them to me!"

His arm was still round her, her head still lying on his shoulder. Bart

was just beginning to wonder if he might kiss her when the infirmary

door opened and Ringg stood in the doorway, staring at them with

surprise, shock and revulsion. Bart realized, suddenly, how it must look

to Ringg--who certainly shared Meta's prejudice--but even as he

comprehended it, Ringg's face altered. Meta slipped from Bart's arms and

rose, but Ringg came slowly a step into the room.

"I--remembered you had a bad reaction, to warp-drive," he said. "I came

to see if you were all right. I would never have believed--but I'm

beginning to guess. There was always something about you, Bartol." He

shut the door behind him and stood against it. His voice lowered almost

to a whisper, he said, "You're not Lhari, are you?"

"Vorongil knows," Bart said.

Ringg nodded. "That day on Lharillis. The crew was talking, but only one

or two of them really know what happened. There are a dozen rumors. I

wanted to see you. They said you were sick with radiation burns--"

"I was."

Ringg raised his hand, absently, to the still-puckered mark on his

cheek, saw Bart watching him and smiled.

"You're not worrying about that fight? Forget it, friend. If anything, I

admire someone who can use his claws--especially if, as I begin to

suspect, they're not his." He leaned over, his hand lightly on Bart's

shoulder. "I don't forget so easily. You saved my life, remember? And

you're a hero on the ship for warning us all. Are you really human? Why

not get rid of the disguise?"