"You did," Medart told him. "They committed one of the worst crimes in Imperial history, meddling with human genetics just for the fun of it—but the results were so good I can't fault them totally for their arrogance."
Ryan smiled, taking the seat Haley had vacated. "It's good to see you feeling well again, Prince, and able to converse. So we are Terrans, are we?"
Medart nodded, pleased by the clan-chief's calm reaction. "Yes." Then he raised an eyebrow, grinning, and said, "You knew, didn't you? That emphasis on the first 'are' was a giveaway."
"We—the clan-chiefs—have known for centuries." Ryan sobered. "Or strongly suspected, at least; all the evidence pointed in that direction."
"So why in Chaos haven't you done anything about it?" Medart demanded.
Ryan shrugged. "You know we aren't as powerful as your nobles, Prince. We can only lead our people where they want to go—and that hasn't been into the Empire."
"But you could have told them, at least!"
"Not and lived," Ryan retorted. "You, of all people, must know how deeply unacceptable that particular truth is to most of us. Coming from you it's bad enough; coming from us, it would trigger a reaction I prefer not to think about."
Medart nodded, reluctantly. "I think I can understand that. What's going to happen now that I've spilled the beans?"
"The warriors' hall was full when Haley gave me the news; I'd imagine it's spreading as quickly as people can get to commsets or cast the necessary spells." Ryan looked serious. "I should contact the clan-chiefs as well. Prince James, would it upset you to speak to all the chiefs through me?"