"Coffee," Medart replied. "Sir Corina thinks we're crazy to drink it."
Sunbeam giggled. "If she thinks coffee's bad, she should try tea!"
"I did!" Corina said emphatically, trying to imitate Sunbeam's gaiety. "The things you humans ingest and claim to enjoy, it is a wonder that you survive at all."
"It's not that bad," Sunbeam said, still amazing Corina with her ability to eat and talk simultaneously—and neatly. "You remember Major Dawson, don't you, Sir Corina? His name's Pat; we got to talking while you were hassling with Colonel Greggson. He's going to coach me in unarmed combat—he's the ship's men's champion, since Lieutenant DarLeras says it wouldn't be proper for him to compete with non-warriors—and he thinks I may have a chance at the women's championship next month."
"You must be quite good, then," Corina said.
"What hassle with Greggson?" Medart demanded.
"It was nothing serious," Corina said, and summarized the incident for him. "I was nervous, but not badly upset."
"That's good," Medart said, then continued silently. *Maybe it doesn't bother you, but it does me. I'll let it go for now, since His Majesty's already warned him and I have a feeling we may need his shield, but if he tries anything else, I want to know about it right away.*
Corina was impressed by his seriousness. *Yes, Ranger.*
The spoken conversation continued on a light tone, with Sunbeam as usual carrying most of it. Corina was almost silent, content merely to absorb the alien atmosphere and continue accustoming herself to it. She felt occasional twinges of familiarity which she knew must come from the Medart-pattern that was becoming a part of her mind. Most of the integration, of course, would be done by her undermind while she slept that night—but she could feel it beginning already.