It was recognized
that off world men must be cautious over the sampling of local products
and that when they joined in the Taking of the First Cup of Peace, they
did so symbolically.
Paft raised his cup, his gesture copied by everyone around the circle. In
the harsh tongue of his race he repeated a formula so archaic that few of
the Salariki could now translate the sing-song words. They drank and the
meeting was formally opened.
But it was an elderly Salarik seated to the right of Halfer, a man who
wore no claw knife and whose dusky yellow cloak and sash made a subdued
note amid the splendor of his fellows, who spoke first, using the
click-clack of the Trade Lingo his nation had learned from Cam.
"Under the white," he pointed to the shield aloft, "we assemble to hear
many things. But now come two tongues to speak where once there was but
one father of a clan. Tell us, outlanders, which of you must we now hark
to in truth?" He looked from Van Rycke to the I-S representative.
The Cargo-master from the Queen did not reply. He stared across the
circle at the Company man.
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