uch a seemingly casual basis, and he could only suppose
they would find the human bureaucracy equally puzzling.

The two civilizations were most similar, ironically enough, in the
structure of their military forces. Even that was largely on the
surface; any military required a clear chain of command. Otherwise
. . . the clans cooperated to produce both commercial ships and
warcraft, and in crewing them, with the crew members supported by their
individual clans. Then, under the Supreme's command, the war fleets
defended the race.

Tarlac shrugged and turned his attention to his surroundings. The
spaceport, so much like its Imperial counterparts, was behind them and
they were approaching the capital city. Hovan had described it, so
Tarlac knew what to expect: large, relatively low buildings, none over
three stories high, set apart from each other in almost parklike
surroundings. In several of the larger buildings they passed, females
stood at the central doors; they were the clan's sub-Mothers, though
rarely--when this was the clan's main home--it might be the Ka'ruchaya
herself waiting to formally welcome her clan-children.

Tarlac enjoyed the drive and the scenery. It reminded him of a Terran
college campus or an Irschchan town, though with a greater similarity
to Terra since Homeworld's sky was blue, not green. The air smelled
good, clean and alive after the flatness of recycled ship's air, and he
could tell the Traiti liked it as much as he did.

They passed a shopping area, where the buildings were more brightly
colored and closer together, yet still not crowded, and the Terran got
his first look at groups of Traiti civilians. Most were closed-shirt
males who hadn't earned Honor scars, but he saw some females, one with
an infant, and a few n'Cor'naya. All wore loose-fitting, brightly
colored clothing, though there was no other uniformity of dress.
Styles varied by clan and by individual taste, from what most Imperials
would consider barely decent to full-coverage robes.

They did have one other thing in common. Much to Tarlac's amazement,
all seemed genuinely cheerful. He turned to his sponsor. "Don't they
know how the war's going?"

"Of course." Hovan was surprised by the question. "Such things must
in honor known be. Why? Do yours not know?"

"Sure they do," Tarlac replied. "But we're winning--we don't have any
reason to be depressed."

"Sadness would no good do," Hovan said calmly. "Wha