eserve the unique
viewpoints of different groups, but at the same time require that each
group be tolerant of the others'. We see harmonious diversity as a
good thing."

"I'd gotten that impression, but not in so many words. The Sandemans
and Traiti, from what I've studied, both maintain their own cultures
within their Subsector and Sector."

"And so do the cloudcats, on Ondrian. They're another race Ranger
Medart managed to bring into the Empire peacefully--damn good thing for
us, since that's the only place miracle-weed produces usable
rapid-heal."

"I never heard of any of those."

DeLayne chuckled. "Learning from comm intercepts would tend to be
fragmentary, especially when the ultrawave beams aren't aimed at you
and you don't have the cultural background to understand a lot of what
you do hear. That's what we're in the process of remedying. And
here's my cabin." He put his hand to a small plate beside the door,
which promptly opened onto a small living area. "Have a seat while I
go get the tape and player--my fabricator's in the bedroom."

Odeon obeyed, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't afraid of the
Empire, and as he'd told Joanie months ago when he first started
studying them, he already had some respect for them. DeLayne was
adding to that, even as he was overwhelming Odeon with casually
incomprehensible references. Fabricators, cloudcats, miracle-weed,
rapid-heal . . . and teaching tapes. DeLayne was emerging from the
bedroom carrying what looked like a small book and a thin box of
matches, though Odeon was sure those had to be the reader and 'tape'
he'd mentioned.

"Here we go," DeLayne said, pulling up a chair. He handed Odeon the
reader, which turned out to be a screen with a row of words
underneath--all of which, to Odeon's gratification, he was able to
puzzle out--and showed him how to insert the tape, then explained the
touch controls for tape direction and speed. "The older models have
electrodes that have to go on the temples," he added, "but the new ones
don't need them. Some people have a mild reaction, disorientation or a
touch of nausea; if you do, slowing the tape down usually gets rid of
it. Whenever you're ready, just touch the "Go" button."

"Okay." Odeon did so--and promptly doubled over.

Alarmed, DeLayne grabbed the tape player and shut it off. "What's
wrong, Captain?"

"I thought you said . . . mild nausea and disorientation. Not stomach
cramps and . . .