Scott had continued quietly pondering. Looking at Fortried drinking the liquid. He recalled the first time he saw him. He was on that second moon, just a satellite of the main planet. He was just standing there with a large crowd of people, all waiting for the lottery drawing. He just knew he was going to win a three months supply of fuel. He slowly looked around taking in the whole crowd. There were people from all walks of life and worlds. These prizes, given away here, were really something and worth a king’s ransom.
Then Scott saw him, he was standing, as he always is, at attention in the edge of the crowd apparently waiting for something or somebody. Then the announcer called Scott's name and he headed up on stage. When he got there and move over close to the MC, he turned around to face the crowd and there was this, this Warman walking up the steps to join him on stage. For the life of him he could not figure out why this individual was joining him there. He knew he wasn't a winner because a Warman could not gamble in any way shape or form. As a matter of fact, the only thing that Scott knew for sure was that he was a Warman, that cannot be hidden. He never looked at Scott but Scott didn’t care because he was waiting for them to bring out his prize, his Fortried, whatever that was.
The announcer, the lottery manager, said something very rapidly in the local slang language. Scott, having very limited grasp of this dialect, did not understand his meaning. The crowd, gathered there, did not share in his dilemma and started cheering loudly and applauding his apparent winnings.
The Warman raised both arms above his head and flexed his chest and arm muscles. Good Lord, Scott thought, now he knew why these Warman were bought for their strength. Then he noticed the “F” on one of the Warman's garment belts.
“It is not possible.” he stammered as the MC ushered him, with a more understandable language, toward the enormous being.
The Warman stuck out his hand in the universal wide sign of greeting. Hands up empty and completely exposed. This sign of greeting was completed with a placing of hands in each other followed by a firm grasp while looking in each others eyes.
He tried his best. He placed his hands in the large being’s hands. As for the grasping, there simply was no way. It felt as if he had placed his hand on the seat of a small transporter and had it close up on him. He tried to flex his hand to show some life but not sure if the Warman would feel it, he just hoped he would feel some movement at least.
Scott was embarrassed and to complete his embarrassment with a booming voice The Warman had said in Scott's language, “Hi, how are you my friend?” and then he smiled at Scott and at his audience.
“I am well, as well as can be expected in a situation like this.” Scott replied.
Fortried roared with laughter and so did the crowd. Scott thought, boy, they would really laugh if they knew what he did for a living.
This whole episode was embedded in Scott's subconscious and it reared its ugly head from time to time.
Why had Scott been sitting out here in plain sight with him if this Warman wasn't supposed to be with him. The answer was simple and technology was the answer. Most of today's space faring ship have infrared capability and it will scan through most material, even space ship hulls. Trying to hide a being that puts out a heat signal as huge as Fortried's would pre-empt any peace talks a lot more than having him out here visible to all. Scott thought it was the only way to appear open and truthful from the start.