"You need them not. The air warm is, and you a blanket have."

Uh-oh, Tarlac thought. That must mean the Traiti slept nude, which was definitely not a Terran custom. He was by no means certain he could adjust that far that quickly.

Hovan sensed the man's unease, remembering stories of human prisoners' behavior. "If you more comfortable that way are, those wear." But he was disappointed. Until now, Steve had been doing quite well.

Tarlac hesitated, thinking, then returned the small bundle of clothing to his locker. "I don't think so. Since it seems I'll be living with you people for quite a while, I might as well get used to it as soon as I can."

He walked hurriedly through the bathing room door, feeling himself blush. This wouldn't be quite so easy. He'd never been nude in public; it was indecent. Then he hesitated, realizing that he wasn't being completely accurate: it was indecent only by current standards, and even at that, not everywhere. Although he'd never visited any, he knew the Empire held worlds where nudity was unremarkable. That was obviously the case here, and he didn't have any choice, so he'd have to make the best of it.

He located the cleaner and undressed, putting his uniform and underclothes in, and turned the unit on. Then he picked one of the translucent shower stalls, experimented with the unfamiliar controls, and began soaping himself.

By the time he was clean and, he hoped, no longer blushing, there were Traiti in the stalls to either side of him, gray bodies seen dimly through the shower walls and an occasional bit of melodic speech sounding over the noise of running water. Bracing himself, he left the scanty concealment of the stall and picked up a towel off the stack he'd spotted earlier. Drying himself didn't take nearly long enough, but he forced himself to stop when he was done, and walked into the sleeproom.

To his relief, no one was there, though another dozen mats unrolled on the floor were evidence there soon would be. Hovan joined him seconds later, still damp, and gave Tarlac a quick, searching glance. "Be easy, Steve," he said. "You will none offend, you so little body hair have. There nothing wrong with you seems."

Tarlac stared at him in disbeief, then couldn't keep from grinning. "None offend … Body hair!" Embarrassment dissolved into helpless laughter, subsiding only when the Ranger had collapsed onto his sleeping mat. "That did it, Hovan," he finally managed to say. "Nudity's okay, but not body hair—Whew!"

He stood, shaking his head and smiling, no longer disturbed by his own state of undress or by the equally bare Traiti now moving about the room. They seemed more impressive this way than when clothed, unlike most humans—himself, Tarlac admitted wryly, included. He felt pale in contrast with their rich, even coloring. And while he was in good shape, he was nowhere near as muscular as the beings around him. They made him feel out of place in a half-remembered way, almost like … what? Yes, that was it. Like a kid.