Hovan's long strides didn't give Tarlac much time to study art on the way to the dining area, but he saw more than he had earlier, since he was no longer surrounded by bodies. The new data didn't change his initial impression, but he had already started to adapt to the Madonna pictures that'd disturbed him. That was no real surprise; spacers in general were more adaptable than ground-pounders--they had to be--and Rangers excelled at that, as at almost everything. Given the need and a little time, he could adapt to any humanly-conceivable circumstances . . . though of course some things took longer than others. So far, Tarlac was finding nothing too difficult in the Traiti pattern. He suspected that he might, when he got deeper into their culture. This business of adoption, for instance--why should he have to join a clan to take their Ordeal? And why wait to find out, or anyway to learn whether he could find out? Hovan was supposed to be his teacher in such matters. As they passed pictures and corridor intersections and doors labeled in the angular Traiti script, Tarlac spoke. "The Fleet-Captain says I'll have to be a member of one of your clans to take the Ordeal. Can you tell me why?" "Because parts of the Ordeal in-clan matters are, not with out-clan or clanless discussed. I can no more of that say." "Okay. I suppose I'll find out when the time comes." That seemed to describe a lot of today's experiences, Tarlac thought, then he decided not to worry about it. It was easier to cope with situations as they arose, in a case like this. They arrived at a meal hall, and the smell was enough to make Tarlac hungry. It operated cafeteria-style; Tarlac, unfamiliar with any of the food, copied Hovan's choices, and ended up with more than he could possibly eat. The portions, from salad to stew and a beverage that looked like milk, were sized to fuel a body mass more than three times his. Still, the food was good, if unfamiliar, and he surprised himself by finishing almost half. He leaned back with a sigh of repletion, returning Hovan's quick smile as the other continued eating. There was little conversation to hear over the sound of eating utensils, knives and short-tined spoons that doubled as forks. Clearly, eating was serious business for these people. At least he didn't have to worry about the food; bio-studies had shown that Traiti and humans had the same basic nutritional requirements and limitations. No Traiti food should poison him. Finally Hovan pushed back his tray, his meal finished. "Ranger Esteban Tarlac. We will much together be; object you if we not formal are? Out-clan it not usual is, names to use instead of titles, but I think it would fitting be." Tarlac nodded; under the circumstances, it did seem appropriate. "I'm called Steve, then, Hovan. That's the short form of my given name."