Quote Originally Posted by Ramil
6

Kay slept well. The rooms in the suite he was provided with seemed infinite and/so he had neglected to look for a bedroom with a promised gravity bed. A sofa in the library was convenient enough and the fruits/fruit in a crystal vase served as a breakfast. For the second time in his life he had tasted the whimsical terran fruit – an apple and judged they were/it was quite edible.
A silicoid, probably the same that had attended at his resurrection, brought in a tray with a breakfast/with breakfast. Kay supplemented his fruity diet/his diet of fruit with a cup of coffee and asked:
“I’ve been promised an instructor. Is it perchance you?”
The grey stone pillar ignored the irony.
“Follow me. The instructor is waiting for you.”
Either Van Curtis liked walking or the silicoid thought it was unnecessary to use the communications (transport ?). They walked along the long corridors, sometimes they walked out in the open air. They passed the night/dark jungle where a sharp voice of some bird tried to break the silence and finally got to a beach that was bathing in sunset/was bathed by the sunset. The silicoid floated along the surf and splashes of water were sizzling when they hit its stone body. Kay took off his shoes and walked behind. A white haired boy that was playing with a ball near the water gazed after them.
“Curtis the junior/Curtis junior?” Kay asked the silicoid.
“No.”
The ocean ended with a live fence. The silicoid stopped by a wicket and said:
“You’ll walk alone from here. I shouldn’t see your instructor. We are in a state of war.”
Kay mentally recalled everything he had known about the Silicois and nodded:
“Fine. I’ll walk alone. Are you allowed to answer my questions?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why do you serve Curtis?”
“The Silicoids do not serve.”
“My thought exactly. Why?”
“I’m repaying my debt.”
“Aha, I see.”
The grey pillar waited patiently.
“What can you tell me about Curtis?”
“What?”
“Anything.”
There were ripples on the grey stone surface. An invisible choir whispered:
“He is like his house.”
“Not very cheerful, eh?” Kay smirked opening the wicket, “Thank you, you boulder…”
He stepped on sand. Yellow sand went to the horizon where the night streets of Geneva could be seen through iridescent haze of the force field barrier. The sun was at its zenith here and drops of sweat appeared on Kay’s forehead. It was not due to the heat only, however. He saw the instructor.
The Bulrathi were one of the most powerful and dangerous races of non-humans in space. They had an appearance of six foot high bears, yet no bear could boast (run ?) with such agility, their fur was strong as if it was made out of steel wire, and they had a balanced intelligence.
This particular bulrathi was old. His dark brown fur had lost its luster and ra/felln in innocent curls. His teeth bared in greeting were grinded off by half/were half ground off.
“Greetings, Kay. Put on the armor. Are you ready?”
His voice was surprisingly melodious and mild which was an incidental peculiarity of evolution that tricked the humans in the age of First Contacts too often/that too often tricked humans in the time of First Contacts.
The armor was lying on the sand nearby. The dark blue rough scales that folded in many strange forms were a light plastic armor designed for hand-to-hand combat only. Muscle enhancers were removed but a medicine unit flashed with a green light in readiness.
“What is your name, old one?” asked Kay while connecting the armor segments. The bulrathi snapped his teeth:
“My name is not for you. I am your instructor. Human Kay, do you value your body?”
“It has to live for another three days…”, Kay had connected the last segments of the armor and took a battle stance. “I am ready, bulrathi.”
A blow in his belly threw him to the fence. The medical unit in his armor hummed dosing Kay with stimulants and anesthetics.
“This blow doesn’t kill immediately” explained the bulrathi closing/as he closed in, “In a week or two your liver stops working. An unpleasant surprise for captured humans we had been releasing during the Feud days.”
Rising, Kay kicked the bulrathi in the groin. The fur had dampened the blow, the leg responded with pain, but the bulrathi reeled back.
“We used to simply castrate the prisoners,” said Kay. “Or sterilized the planets. Right?”
“I was on a planet which the “Reaper” had flown over.” said the instructor. “Your kick is painful, but ineffective.”
Kay managed to dodge the next blow. The bulrathi whirled raising/kicking the sand in the air with his claws. Then suddenly he lowered himself on all fours and dashed to/at Kay.
Kay jumped and flew over the gaping maw and having landed/and landing on the huge body he kicked its sides. The anatomy of the bulrathi was very close to the humans/close to humans and kidneys were the weakest spot of/in all races. Then he tumbled to the sand.
The bulrathi raised and passed his paws over his body. Then he asked calmly:
“Usually, the humans/Usually humans assume that a sentient being wouldn’t attack on all fours. You’re looking young. Have you been at war with us?”
“I like to watch chronicles/documentaries.”
“Your imperfect vision simplifies the storing of information.” The bulrathi made a grunting noise. “Why have you won that war? You’re weaker than we are and you’re less smart than/you're not as smart as the Psilonians. You are average…”
“We are average in everything.”
“Yes… It’s a pity that the galaxy is ruled by those in the middle…”
The next attack caught Kay off guard. He was pressed against the sand by the four hundred and fifty pound carcass/body and couldn’t even move. The jaws of the bulrathi opened and as Kay felt a strange, surprisingly pleasant smell they reached out for his throat…”
There was a thin sound right at the moment Kay sensed the touch of the fangs. The bulrath bellowed and moved his jaws away. He raised his right paw, there was an ordinary human watch on it gleaming through the fur.
“You got lucky, human” he said relaxing his voice. “You have endured five minutes of fighting without rules. I’m not permitted to kill you now.”
He rose with unearthly grace. Kay was lying and watching at his might-have-been executioner.
“Get up, Kay. Now I’m going to teach you how a human can kill a bulrathi. And remember, this knowledge is for you only.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Speak.”
“Why do you have such a pleasant smell from your mouth? Your kind prefers stale meat, don’t you?”
“It’s deodorant/mouth wash, you half-wit. Any sentient race practices hygiene.”
“Logical.” Kay stood up. The medical unit was still working but his whole body was aching, “All right, tell me how to kill you?”
“The most vulnerable zone of our race is the area around the sigmoid gland,” the bulrathi began in a hollow voice, “if you draw a line from my genitals to my right eye then in the middle of that line there will be a spot that is unprotected by the muscle layer…”