Man-Kzin Wars XIV by Larry Niven Page A

Occupation in the first place,” Vaemar wanted to know.
    “There’s your answer.” The abbot pointed to a tall, bulky figure coming down to the stockade from the hills. It walked lithely and confidently. It saw them and headed straight for them. Vaemar moved in front of the abbot and patted his holster.
    “Ho, kzin warrior, what do you here? The kzin is a mighty hunter!” Vaemar asked in the formal tense. The kzin’s eye caught the red fur on Vaemar’s chest, and his ear-tattoos. He began to go down in the prostration until Vaemar stayed him with a gesture. “Dominant One . . .” he began in the old style.
    “That is not necessary,” Vaemar reassured him. “We live in modern times now.”
    “Greetings, then, Great One and Human. I am Rrhougharrrt, the sheriff of this town. I keep the Judge’s Law.” Ruat showed them his badge with pride.
    “I am standing for election for this district,” Vaemar explained. “I would like to talk to the town, if that can be done without alarming the people here.”
    Ruat gave a very human shrug, although on rather a large scale. “I know nothing of elections and districts, Great One. I will take you to the judge, who will decide. Follow me.”
    They followed him to the gate, which was opened to allow them in by a gatekeeper who addressed Ruat in familiar tones. “Hi, Ruat, got some more visitors to join us?”
    “I know not, Hans, but the Hero is of royalty. I take them to the judge.”
    Boniface and Vaemar were admitted with a polite nod, and the gate closed behind them. They looked around. It was somewhere halfway between a shantytown and a well-designed minor city. The houses were a bit rough but were in the process of being spruced up. Children and kzin kits played together in the streets, the kits with buttons on their claws and Vaemar had seldom seen anything like it: man and kzin living together and a kzin sheriff who seemed to be on good terms with everbody. The kids showed not the slightest fear of him; they seemed to see him as a protector. They waved at him and smiled . And the kzin waved back and flipped an ear at them. Unbelievable.
    “Judge, I have found some strangers. They came by aircar, it is outside the wall. The Hero wants to talk to the town, for reasons I know nothing of. You must explain it to me later.” The judge looked up at them. He was sitting on a rocking chair on the porch of his house and smoking a pungent cigar.
    “Lord Vaemar-Riit, as I live and breathe! And of course you are the abbot. I have never met you, but I have heard a lot about you. I knew your predecessor. I owed him a debt.”
    “But you have met Vaemar before?” the abbot inquired.
    “Indeed I have, although under embarrassing circumstances, and with luck he does not recall me.” The Judge was grave, so Vaemar decided not to recognize him formally, although it was not hard to recall the circumstances. Vaemar had been a mere kit at the time, but the events had been, ah, memorable .
    “I have been selected as the conservative candidate for the Grossgeister electorate,” Vaemar explained. “I would like to tell your people why it is important to vote for me. It seems a very vulgar thing to do, but I am assured that it is proper.”
    “Hey, you’re going into politics? That’s wonderful! Some of the men are out hunting or farming, but they’ll all be back later. Can you wait two hours? We can have the whole town lined up for you by then. Not a whole lot of folk, of course, less than two hundred all up, but we are growing at the expense of some of the other villages further out. We can thank Ruat for that. He found gold and precious stones near here, which means we’re rich now, and the word gets out.”

    “You have prospered,” said Vaemar, as the villagers assembled.
    “Indeed.” It was obvious to the judge that Vaemar recognized him, despite the years that had passed. “And the sergeant . . . Rarrgh?”
    “He heads my household . . . my palace staff.
    “You