"Like Rhazon of Nedrun, like all pioneers, this young man has been cursed by his own people, the very ones who will one day benefit from his daring. He has found his people a firm footing among the stars. It is too late for the Lhari to regret that we did not sooner extend you the hand of welcome there. You have climbed, unaided, to join us. For good or ill, we must make room for you. "But there is room for all. Competition is the lifeblood of trade, and we face the future without fear, knowing that life still holds many surprises for the living. I say to you: welcome to the stars." Even while Bart stood speechless with the knowledge of success, the door opened again, and Bart, turning, cried out in amazement. "Tommy! Ringg! Meta!" "Sure," Tommy exclaimed, "we've got to celebrate," but Bart stopped, looking past them. "Captain Vorongil!" he said, and went to greet the old Lhari. "I thought you'd hate me, _rieko mori_." The term of respect fell naturally from his lips. "I did, for a time," Vorongil said quietly. "But I remembered the day we stood on Lharillis, by the monument. And that you risked--perhaps your life, certainly your eyesight--to save us from death. So when the Elder asked for my estimate of your people, I gave it." "I thought it sounded like you." Bart felt that his happiness was complete. "And now," Ringg cried, "let's celebrate! Meta, you haven't even told him that he's free!" But while the party got rolling, Bart wondered--free for what? And after a little while he went out on the balcony and stood looking down at the spaceport, where the _Swiftwing_ lay in shadow, huge, beloved--renounced. "What now, Bartol?" Vorongil's quiet voice asked from his elbow. "You're famous--notorious. You're going to be rich, and a celebrity." "I was wishing I could get away until the excitement dies down." "Well," said Vorongil, "why don't you? The _Swiftwing_ ships out tonight, Bartol--for Antares and beyond. It will be a couple of years before your Eight Colors can be made over into an Interstellar line--and as Raynor One has said to me several times, he'll have to handle all those details, for you're not of age yet. "I've been thinking. Now that we Lhari must share space with your people, you'll need experienced men for your ships. Unless we all want the disasters born of trial and error, we Lhari had better help you train your men quickly and well. I want you to go back on the _Swiftwing_ with me. Not an apprentice, but representative of Eight Colors, to act as liaison between men and Lhari--at least until your own affairs claim your attention." Behind them on the balcony, Tommy appeared, making signals to Bart: "Say yes! Say yes, Bart! _I_ did!"