By Amber Michelle K.
myaru@etherealvoid.net

"Ranaman ghete..." Krelian frowned down at the page and glanced at the key on the clipboard next to him, adjusting his pronounciation. "Ranahman ghetei." It was only a slight difference to his ear, but if one could trust the book, that small difference might amount to a huge blunder. Not that he would mind telling the Gazel they smell like goats, but it might damage his fragile reputation. They were difficult enough as it was.

Katenaya on furushin ahn na ranahman ghetei. 'I am honored by your august presence.'

His frown turned into a scowl, and he turned the page. It was easier to lie in a language he didn't know very well, but Solarian was proving more trouble than he wanted to put up with for a bunch of computerized old men. Cain was the most tolerable of the lot, almost pleasant. If only he were not Cain.

The next phrase was a little easier, but Krelian's gaze wandered before he finished the page, resting instead on the reports scrolling across the computer display. His work with the emperor was not yet finished; daily progress reports still swamped him with error logs and medical complications. The treatments were not completely successful, life extention had begun to fail yet again, and his efforts to successfully clone the man were still only partially successful. Solarian technology was extensive, but it seemed even they had trouble replicating the unique nature of these beings.

If he had known they had such technology at the time, he might have tried to clone what was left of the Gazel Ministers. Though it would be more difficult to kill them later, they would be prone to human error, which, unfortunately, the computer was not.

And Elly?

It would be an abomination to try to clone her. That it crossed his mind every so often was bad enough. Lacan would kill him...

Krelian forced his eyes back to the book, blinking away the glare of the screen. Though she had never cared for the Solarian language, learning their dialect was necessary, for him.

Umashih. Ware son ma ketanai. Perfect. Beautiful beyond words.

Words had always been inadequate when it came to Sophia. It had never gotten any easier.