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the padded wooden benches that served as furniture in his spartan quarters and began to adjust the buckles that held the puppet's feet to his knees. "It was Haarwaa who united the Prides to keep the Imperium from overrunning Nide." Then he stood and raised the puppet's head so that it fitted with its harness over his left shoulder. He placed his hands into those of the puppet, and suddenly "General" Haarwaa lived again, a vicious, antique Nidean come to life out of dusty history.

"Please, sir," the "General" rumbled in full Nidean intonation. "Take a seat. There's a story to be told."

The hair on Aubin's arms raised, and he felt his skin prickle. The Nidean rumble, raspy and rash, always did that to him. He collapsed into the offered chair, afraid to speak, wanting very much to see the living history of Nide's oral tradition, something very few outsiders were ever permitted.

The "General" began to move, stalking an invisible quarry, eyes shifting, head turning, shoulders lifting, hands gesturing, all with the fluid grace of water over stone, and Ki no longer existed except as a white nimbus, a shadow, a ghost to match Haarwaa's movements.

Aubin forced himself to look away from the puppet and to his friend of some twenty years. Ki's leonine face with its broad, flat nose was only partially visible behind the cloud of Haarwaa's hair, but its fierce Lawwnum Pride tattoo of rose-colored swirls on the cheek and short, black downward strokes at the corners of the mouth were still impressive. Ki's mane, worn in the full style similar to that of the Lionmen of the Kabuki theatre of old Japan, floated like a blue-white halo behind the puppet s head. Then the "General" began the tale, and Ki once more faded from existence.

"When the Eighth Ozenscebo held the throne," rumbled Haarwaa, "he began the era of exploration. Many worlds were brought under his sway, and one was not. That one, vateem, friend, was Nide.

"When the Emperor's ships first filled our skies, we watched. When the soldiers landed, we killed them."

Aubin marvelled at the tidal fullness of the motions, the wholeness, the reality of what he was seeing. This was a wild Nidean, untamed by contact with the "civilized" worlds. Of course he knew Ki was still there, but he had diminished into insignificance. Aubin was amazed to realize that, at that moment, only the puppet was real.

"When more soldiers landed," the "General" continued, drawing his hoj, "we killed more!" This was accented with a broad arc of the sword.

"But we were a backward people," the "General" said sadly, "at least to those with technology. And the technology was defeating us. It killed us faster than we could kill in return."

Aubin's throat was suddenly constricted. How painful it must have been to those warlike creatures to lose! And how in blazes had that emotion been communicated? What a huge effort it must be to move the monstrous puppet with such grace and ease!

"But I knew we were fierce! I knew we were many! As Didentaar, Aashtraar, Lawwnum, Streestawwn, Gelshanaam, we could not win. But, as Nideans, we could not lose!"

Aubin's head bobbed as he nodded assent.

"We joined our people into one and we began to win, destroying the technology that had destroyed us."

There was a long dramatic pause and Aubin waited breathlessly for the "General" to continue.

"This Ozenscebo was not a fool. He saw us as fighters and recognized us as the best in the known worlds. He came to me, the Emperor Himself, and made this offer. We on Nide should have autonomy in perpetuity if we would swear fealty. But if we did not swear, our world would be destroyed." Haarwaa's head dropped in weariness. "It was a hard decision, and many preferred to fight on. But at last we swore."

Aubin wanted to cheer! They'd made the right choice.

The "General" turned his head quickly in Aubin's direction and caught some hint of the Envoy's emotion. His puppeteer was extremely attuned to the human audience, refining the motions to ones the human could comprehend, smelling his reactions, listening for the little clues such as indrawn breaths and subvocal sighs.

"But that is not the end of the tale, cub!" he hissed, menace spitting from voice and pointed finger.

Aubin quickly subsided, a slight shiver of fear stealing down his spine.

"This Emperor knew he needed fighters such as we, and he was . . . intrigued by our appearance, like the demons of their legend. And so we became his special soldiers, his Guardsmen, and he called us Lionmen in their honor."

The "General" faced Aubin squarely and, step by step, approached in a most menacing fashion. Aubin found himself retreating further and further into the cushions of the chair.

"And we still do not allow your kind on our world, human!"

"Then the "General" was gone, his head thrown to one side, Ki's hands slipping from those of his ancestor's. Aubin slumped in his chair, emotionally drained, surprised at his responses. And perhaps a bit embarrassed.

"Ki, that was marvelous!" Aubin said enthusiastically as he stood to pat his friend on his muscle-hard back. "I've never seen anything like it!"

"Nor will you, I hope. That was appallingly bad."

"Bad! It was wonderful. I felt it all! All the emotion! No wonder your people know their history so well!"

Ki shook his head in denial. "No, Aubin. It was not good. At my finest I was barely acceptable. I was never even in line to be puppetmaster. And now I'm grossly out of practice."

Aubin pouted. He did not like having his praise shunted aside. "I thought it was good."

"You are uneducated," Ki responded with typical candor.

Aubin's eyes opened wide in surprise. "Nobody's told me that for a long time. I thought I was rather worldly."

"Ah," Ki replied. "But which world?"

Aubin laughed, a rich and full sound that told anyone listening that here was one who enjoyed life. Then he shook his head. "Capitol Center and Luna, but obviously not Nide." He cocked his head and studied

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