At The Edge Of Space (Hanan Rebellion) Read Online Free Page A

the Y. On the right was a closed door. Hef struck it with his fingers.
    Kta answered the knock, his dark eyes astonished. He gave full attention to Hef’s rapid words, which sobered him greatly; then he opened the door widely and bade Kurt come in.
    Kurt entered uncertainly, disoriented equally by exhaustion and by the alien geometry of the place. This time Kta offered him the honor of a chair, still lower than Kurt found natural. The carpets underfoot were rich with designs of geometric form and the furniture was fantastically carved, even the bed surrounded with embroidered hangings.
    Kta settled opposite him and leaned back. He wore only a kilt and sandals in the privacy of his own chambers. He was a powerfully built man, golden skin glistening like the statue of some ancient god brought to life; and there was about him the power of wealth that had not been apparent on the ship. Kurt suddenly found himself awed of the man, and suddenly realized that “friend” was perhaps not the proper word between a wealthy nemet captain and a human refugee who had landed destitute on his doorstep.
    Perhaps, he thought uneasily, “guest” was hardly the proper word either.
    “Kurt-ifhan,” said Kta, “the Methi has put you in my hands.”
    “I am grateful,” he answered, “that you came and spoke for me.”
    “It was necessary. For honor’s sake, Elas has been opened to you. Understand: if you do wrong, punishment falls on me. If you escape, my freedom is owed. I say this so you will know. Do as you choose.”
    “You took a responsibility like that,” Kurt objected, “without knowing anything about me.”
    “I made an oath,” said Kta. “I didn’t know then that the oath is an error. I made an oath of safety for you. For the honor of Elas I have asked the Methi for you. It is necessary.”
    “Her people and mine have been at war for more than two thousand years. You’re taking a bigger risk than you know. I don’t want to bring trouble on you.”
    “I am your host fourteen days,” said Kta. “I thank you that you speak plainly; but a man who comes to the hearthfire of Elas is never a stranger at our door again. Bring peace with you and be welcome. Honor our customs and Elas will share with you.”
    “I am your guest,” said Kurt. “I will do whatever you ask of me.”
    Kta joined his fingertips together and inclined his head. Then he rose and struck a gong that hung beside his door, bringing forth a deep, soft note which caressed the mind like a whisper.
    “I call my family to the rhmei —the heart—of Elas. Please.” He touched fingers to lips and bowed. “This is courtesy, bowing. Ei, I know humans touch to show friendliness. You must not. This is insult, especially to women. There is blood for insulting the women of a house. Lower your eyes before strangers. Extend no hand close to a man. This way you cannot give offense.”
    Kurt nodded, but he grew afraid, afraid of the nemet themselves, of finding some dark side to their gentle, cultured nature—or of being despised for a savage. That would be worst of all.
    He followed Kta into the great room which was framed by the branching of the entry hall. It was columned, of polished black marble. Its walls and floors reflected the fire that burned in a bronze tripod bowl at the apex of the triangular hall.
    At the base wall were two wooden chairs, and there sat a woman in the left-hand one, her feet on a white fleece, as other fleeces scattered about her feet like clouds. In the right-hand chair sat an elder man, and a girl sat curled upon one of the fleece rugs. Hef stood by the fire, with a young woman at his side.
    Kta knelt on the rug nearest the lady’s feet, and from that place spoke earnestly and rapidly, while Kurt stood uncomfortably by and knew that he was the subject. His heart beat faster as the man rose up and cast a forbidding look at him.
    “Kurt-ifhan,” said Kta, springing anxiously to his feet, “I bring you before my honored father,