10
The humidity at Chitteranx Port hit Baron Preed NNXV like a grit-heavy sandstorm. Gasping, he hastened to activate the dehumidifier strapped to his snout. Immediately, air from which virtually every trace of moisture had been removed flowed down his nasal passages and into his lungs. Relieved, he stepped out into the otherwise amenable climate that filled the terminal. What he really needed, he reflected, was the visual equivalent of a dehumidifier for his eyes. Or more properly, a debugger.
The place was full of thranx. The insectoids were everywhere: operating greeting stations, food and drink facilities, rushing to and fro in hideous numbers. That was not surprising, since Chitteranx was a major port of arrival and embarkation on this continent, and Hivehom was their homeworld. That did not make the place any easier to tolerate. Like all his kind, Preed loathed the multilimbed, hard-shelled creatures. What he wanted to do was wade into the seething mass and start pulling off arms and legs and heads. Aside from the fact that he was more than slightly outnumbered and such action would result in his own expeditious demise, it would reflect badly on his mission.
Diplomats, he reminded himself, were to be discouraged from dismembering their hosts.
It was not the thranx he had come to see, however. Had that been the case, he would have landed at Daret and checked in with the official Imperial Embassy there. His mission was rather more circumspect. The thranx had been reluctant to allow it. But since no state of active hostilities existed between the Great Hive and the Empire, they were unable to find a good reason to refuse the official request. It was to be an informal visit, the AAnn officials in charge of making the arrangements had insisted. Nothing conclusive was on order. As a major power friendly to both sides, the AAnn simply wished to see how the humans who had located on Hivehom were doing. The thranx didn’t like it, but could not find a legitimate way to refuse without giving unnecessary offense.
Preed had been chosen because of his mastery of the humans’ language and a tolerance for difficult conditions. He was flattered by the endorsement and could not in any event have gracefully refused. So here he was, surrounded by bugs, on his way to see spongy, soft-skinned mammals. The familiar comforts of Blassussar seemed a very long way off indeed.
The heavy protective clothing he would need to tolerate the visit to the human outpost was packed securely in the satchel he carried slung over his right shoulder. Striding forward, the dehumidifier across his snout distorting his otherwise courtly profile, he searched in vain for the tube that would take him to the shuttle that would convey him to the Mediterranea Plateau, where the humans had their settlement. His flight connection was deliberately scheduled tight, so that he would not have to spend any more time in lowland Chitteranx than was absolutely necessary. A check of his chronometer showed that he had no time to linger. Growling deep in his throat, he realized that he was going to have to ask directions.
Steeling himself, he used the general terminal guide to locate an information kiosk. At least he would be spared direct contact with one of the bugs. The kiosk was designed to be utilized by offworlders. As such, its instrumentation was intuitive, and though it could not communicate in the Imperial Tongue, he soon had his directions. Striding off in the indicated direction, he had to struggle not to kick crowding thranx aside. Bipedal and as tall as the average human, he towered over the milling natives. With their compound eyes, you could not even tell if they were looking in your direction, but he knew that they were staring. The presence of an AAnn on Hivehom, outside the diplomatic mission located in the capital, was highly unusual. He fancied he could smell hatred and fear emanating from them. A good feeling, it made him smile inside.
The aircraft that would carry him to the high plateau was specially retrofitted to accommodate humans as well as thranx but was virtually empty. The few insectoids aboard crowded as far forward as they could, maintaining as much space as was practical between themselves and the unusual passenger. This suited Preed well. As for his own perch, the AAnn found that while his legs bent in places different from those of humans, he could still fit his backside into one of the flight chairs that had been designed for them. The only difficulty lay with his tail. While flexible, it still had to go somewhere. As there was no proper slot in the rear of the seat, he was reduced to thrusting it off to one side and over the rim of the chair for the duration of the flight. The resulting contortion was uncomfortable, but not impossible. At least, he reflected, he was not reduced to being strapped down like a piece of cargo.
The flight on the superswift craft carried him high above the clouds that swathed the jungles, rain forest, plantations, and conurbations below. Once they passed over the edge of the Hysingrausen Wall, the weather cleared above the plateau. It would be refreshingly drier in the human settlement, he knew, but also much colder. He would be compelled to swap the uncomfortable dehumidifier on his snout for a bulky set of cold-wear gear. Such were the travails a multispecies ambassador was expected to endure.
There were compensations. Preed’s ability to deal with an assortment of sentients, plus his unusual linguistic gifts, had elevated him to rarified status. Actually, his rank should have guaranteed him a home posting in a comfortable villa, with perhaps a view of the Sandronds on Blassussar’s southernmost continent. But his skills made him too valuable to keep at home. So he had become a rover in the service of the Empire. The lifestyle suited his temperament if not his liver.
From the air Azerick was unimpressive. He had not expected much. The human outpost was still of comparatively recent vintage, both physically and politically. It could not be allowed to grow rapidly for fear of unsettling the locals. This was too bad. There was nothing Preed, or any other AAnn, enjoyed more than seeing the multilimbed thranx unsettled.
Hence his visit.
His principal purpose was not to unnerve the thranx. That was only a side benefit. He was here to talk with the resident humans, to ascertain a number of possibilities, to formulate appraisals, and with luck to make more than mischief. His hopes were high. Despite all the lies the thranx had told humans about the AAnn, despite their unprecedented and unrepeated cooperation during the course of the Pitarian War, relations between the two powerful entities were still in a state of uneasy flux. Relations could evolve, or devolve, on the basis of very small developments. It was these that Preed was on Hivehom to influence. His energetic, mischief-making colleagues, he knew, were busy elsewhere.
The dryness of the air that assailed his nostrils when he emerged from the aircraft into the local terminal was a huge relief after trying to breathe the damp mud that passed for atmosphere in Chitteranx. He immediately removed the clumsy dehumidifier and stored it in his baggage. Finding a personal hygiene chamber, he attended to necessary ablutions while donning the lightweight but still unwieldy special garb that would keep the air next to his scales fifteen degrees warmer than the ambient temperature outside. Only his head, tail, and hands remained exposed to the chill air. When he emerged from the chamber, he felt refreshed and ready to begin work.
A voice in halting Imperial hailed him as soon as he stepped outside. “Envoy Preed! Over here, sir.”
Espying the only human who was both staring and gesticulating in his direction, Preed approached the individual and replied in near-perfect Terranglo. The language was easier on his larynx than either High or Low Thranx. Something else, he mused, his people and these mammals had in common. Extending a hand, he noted the human’s obvious surprise as the clawed fingers enveloped the mammal’s soft skin and shook gently.
“You ssee?” the envoy informed his greeter. “No brushing of antennae. Your kind have one digit too many, and your clawss are exceedingly inadequate, but otherwisse there iss virtually no difference.”
Pleased by the flattering comparison, the human stepped back. “I’ll be your principal contact during your visit to Azerick, Envoy Preed. Members of our guest support staff will look after your daily needs. Whenever you are ready for formal talks, just let me know. I can say that I personally have been looking forward to them for some time.”
“A chance to sspeak with ssomething bessidess a bug?” Preed ventured.
Gratifyingly, the human essayed a half smile. “I didn’t say that.”
An excellent beginning, Preed decided. This human, an important member of the local diplomatic staff, was already predisposed toward the AAnn and against his hosts. With more such benign developments, much might be accomplished in the coming days.
“May I carry your baggage, Envoy?” The human extended a helpful hand. To Preed, it looked as if the straps on his case would cut right through the soft, unprotected flesh. “By the way, my name is Jorge Sertoa.”
“Yess. I wass informed it would be you who would be meeting me. No thank you, truly, Jorge. I prefer to carry my own gear. The exercisse iss a good thing for me.”
Outside the little terminal, the all-pervasive green of the plateau forest made him wince slightly. He longed for familiar earth tones: for yellows and reds, burnished orange and fiery vermilion. Such hues were not to be found anywhere on Hivehom, and certainly not here in the place of the humans’ choosing. Gasping as the chill air entered his lungs, he bundled his weather suit tighter around his neck, clasped his hands together, and paced the escorting human to the impressive little high-speed transport. Within moments, they were racing northward through the towering woods.
“This transport cabin is equipped with an individual climate control.” The human was at pains to be accommodating. “Would you like me to turn up the heat?”
Diplomacy be strangled, Preed decided. “I would like that very much, truly. My thankingss, Jorge.”
Within minutes the temperature inside the cabin had risen to nearly thirty-three degrees. Though the human was starting to look uncomfortable, he did not ask to reduce the temperature, and Preed gladly took advantage of the other’s obliging nature.
They bantered inconsequentialities all the way to the outpost. There, Preed was assigned quarters that had been hastily adapted for his arrival. There were chairs with slots in the back for his tail. The high bed had been replaced with a basin filled with sand, complete with a crude, hastily adapted, but functionally adequate warmer. As with the cabin aboard the high-speed transport, the room’s temperature could be individually regulated to suit its occupant. Preed immediately pushed it to maximum without bothering to try to translate the digits on the readout and without worrying about the possible consequences to the room’s contents.
He spent the rest of the day relaxing as best he could amid the alien surroundings and renewing his acquaintance with his recordings of human facial expressions, which AAnn xenopsychs had discovered early on in the course of formal exchanges were a vital key in understanding the mammals. Oftentimes they would say one thing while their countenances would convey something entirely different. The fact that the thranx were not yet very good at this business of interpreting facial muscle positioning only inspired Preed’s people to try to master it. No one could claim that ability yet, but among those assigned to diplomatic posts especially, great progress had been made.
For example, his host, the human male Sertoa, had been politely neutral in his greeting and conversation. But the subcutaneous flexing of his facial muscles had suggested a warmer predisposition toward his AAnn guest. As time passed, if his interpretation was further confirmed, Preed could play on that. Much good could be done here. He reminded himself of that repeatedly, by way of compensating himself for having to endure the frigid conditions atop the plateau. At least the local humidity, while higher than any AAnn would choose, was tolerable, as opposed to the simmering soup of an atmosphere that prevailed in the bug-infested lowlands below.
“We have sso much more in common,” he hissed to his host the following day, as Sertoa toured the visiting diplomat through the facility. “Physsically, we are infinitely more alike than either of our resspective sspeciess are to the bugss.” By way of demonstration, he reached out and put a four-fingered hand, polished claws and all, on the human’s shoulder. The flesh was soft beneath the thin garment, but Preed had expected and prepared for that.
“You ssee? We are on average nearly the ssame height, though your kind runss to more extremess than mine. We are both bipedal, though you lack the counterbalance of a tail. Internally, we are both bissymmetrical. Your earss are rather prominently external, but our eyess are identically possitioned, though your pupilss are round and ourss vertical. Your facess are pusshed in—excusse my terminology, are flat—but when you look me in the eye and I look back, I see a being that iss not sso very different from mysself.” He gestured southward, toward the teeming lowlands. “When I look at a thranx, I ssee ssomething that iss truly alien.”
“The thranx are as intelligent as you or I, and as deserving of respect,” the human responded.
“Truly.” Had he overstepped his bounds? Preed wondered furiously. After all, the humans were on this planet by the grace of their insectoid hosts. Had he misread this mammal so badly? “I wass ssimply pointing out ssome interessting and unavoidable ssimilarities. I did not mean any dissresspect to thosse who, after all, are hosstss here to uss both.” Disrespect, he mused silently, could come later.
“I understand.” The human directed his guest down a footpath paved with round stepping-stones. Preed’s sandals clicked softly on the artificial rock, his feet swathed in protective cold-resistant gear. Meanwhile, the human strolled about virtually naked in the chill air of afternoon.
“We musst all get along in thiss tiny corner of a vasst galaxy. You know that the emperor hass petitioned your government for the ssame ssettlement and ssharing rightss that are pressently enjoyed by thesse thranx?”
Sertoa’s face revealed his surprise. “No, I didn’t know that. In what way?”
The AAnn diplomat explained. “As the thranx have esstablished ssmall hivess in your Amazon and Congo Bassinss, and are conssidering another in your Ssepik River region, my government hass requessted that we be allowed to consstruct a tesst community in either the center of your Ssahara Desert or an alternate region called the Ssonoran.”
“That’s exciting news.” Sertoa led the way into one of the complex’s sealed structures. The air inside was slightly warmer than without, for which Preed was inordinately grateful. “I hope it comes to pass.”
“You do?” Preed kept his tone subdued.
“Why, of course. I’ve always admired the accomplishments of the AAnn. At least, what we know of them. No one looks forward to closer relations between our two peoples more than I.”
Breakthrough. Though his scale-covered snout and face were far less flexible than those of any human, they were still capable of movement. Lest the humans be studying the expressions of the AAnn as intensely as his kind were scrutinizing theirs, Preed struggled to hide the quiet exultation he felt at the human’s response. This diplomat was not only friendly toward his kind: If his words could be believed, he was positively enthusiastic.
There were a number of ways of checking.
“If you are interessted, I might perhapss be able to arrange a reciprocal vissit to the Imperial capital at Blassussar, or at leasst to one of the principal Imperial worldss.”
Sertoa’s expression brightened. “That would be wonderful! I’d enjoy that very much.”
Confirmation of a quickly formed opinion, however casual, was always welcome. Here, on the thranx homeworld, was a sympathetic if not openly biased human diplomat. This was in itself enough to justify the discomfort of his trip, and he had only just arrived.
“I have a surprise for you.” A grin, an expression that Preed recalled indicated a combination of personal satisfaction and amusement, dominated the human’s face. “I think you’ll like it.”
They entered a substantial edifice where Preed was startled to encounter humans in various states of undress. If anything their naked bodies were, while of scientific interest, more disconcerting than their clothed forms. Leading the way deeper into the complex, Sertoa guided his guest to a windowless chamber. The pair of humans there hurried their dressing when they discerned the nature of the alien visitor.
“If you would kindly disrobe, sir. I know that your people do not suffer from any nudity phobias.” As he ventured the suggestion, Sertoa had already begun the process of removing his own clothing.
“That iss true, but I am not ssure thiss iss in accordance with proper diplomatic procedure, my friend.” The AAnn eyed the human uncertainly.
“Trust me, Baron Preed.” By this time the human diplomat was nearly naked.
We must all make sacrifices for the Empire, Preed told himself. He began to remove his decorative official garments.
When both were unclad, Sertoa led his guest to a smaller chamber. Preed did his best to avoid gawking at the jiggling, pulpy body of his host. Sertoa opened a door and stepped inside. Preed followed, only to find himself in—if not the fabled nirvanic sands of Ss’ra’oun, at least a place where he could feel comfortable. The small chamber was suffused, bathed, washed in perfectly dry heat. It was almost, but not quite, a slice of home.
“Tanning room.” Sertoa sat down on a convenient bench. “To make sure we get our proper bimonthly dose of the right kind of sunlight. I thought you’d be more comfortable conversing here than anywhere else in the settlement.”
Embracing the arid, humidityless heat, Preed almost unbent. “I am more grateful than I can ssay. Ssuch courtessy doess you proud, Jorge Ssertoa.”
The human shrugged off the compliment. “Just doing my job.” At his touch, a concealed wall alcove disgorged a thin-walled metal container containing a mix of both liquid and frozen water. Preed eyed it askance, hoping he would not be asked to partake of the frigid concoction. When he found out he could request uniced, room-temperature water, he relaxed once more.
“Now then.” Sertoa smiled at his reptilian guest. “If you’re reasonably at ease, what would you like to talk about? What exactly is the purpose of your visit here? Why aren’t you at the AAnn diplomatic mission in Daret?”
By shifting his tail to one side, Preed found he could repose quite comfortably on the bench fashioned of native wooden slats. “There are a number of issuess involving the relationsship between your people and the thranx that intimately affect my kind. Given the natural biological ssimilaritiess between AAnn and human, my ssuperiorss felt that thiss outposst of yourss might be an appropriate place to broach them. Truly. Of coursse, we are alsso curiouss to ssee how you have progressed and what you have accomplisshed here. Though but recently arrived, I am already much impressed.”
“I’m listening. Go on.” Sertoa took a long swig of his water and Preed cringed internally as he heard cubes of frozen water actually clink against the human’s teeth.
“My government feelss sstrongly that you are devoting far too many ressourcess to developing relationss with these bugss, when ssimilarr overturess between alike ssentientss ssuch as humankind and AAnn could be of infinitely greater benefit to both.”
Sertoa nodded, an easy gesture to recognize and interpret. “First let me say that I couldn’t agree with you more. I think trying to develop anything beyond standard diplomatic relations between humans and thranx, given the obvious profound differences between our respective species, is a waste of time and money. And I think the neglect of relations between your people and mine has been shameful. The thranx, of course, feel otherwise.”
“That iss undersstandable.” Preed started to gesture, then remembered to dip his head in the simple human nod. “As you may know, from the time of firsst contact, relationss between my people and the thranx have been . . . awkward. No amount of perssuassion and imploring on the part of my government hass ssucceeded in altering their beliefss.” Luxuriating in the dry heat that saturated the chamber, he leaned forward. Not too far, aware that proximity to sharp, curved AAnn teeth had been known to unsettle an unwary human.
“Thiss need not affect in any way developing relationss between our resspective sspeciess. It iss good to have come all thiss way and know that we have at leasst one friend and ssympathizer among thosse of your kind empowered to make the decissions affecting thosse relationss.”
Leaning back against the wall, his eyes half closed against the overhead tanning lights, Sertoa replied quietly. “There are others. Some feel even more strongly about this matter than I.”
Preed considered. It was silent in the chamber for several moments before he made the decision to take a step that as recently as yesterday he had not believed would be possible. “How sstrongly, my friend?”
The human turned toward him. “More strongly than I am at liberty to say.”
“That iss mosst encouraging. Truly. Perhapss before I depart I might be able to meet ssome of thesse like thinkerss?”
“Perhaps,” Sertoa replied noncommittally. While willing to be obliging, Preed noted, the human remained cautious. “Meanwhile, I consider this a promising vein for further discussion, which I hope we may enlarge upon during the rest of your visit.” He waved a hand, and Preed marveled at the sheer slackness of the gesture. “When we happen to find ourselves in appropriate surroundings, of course.”
“Truly,” Preed agreed. “Allow me, if you will, to detail ssome of the sspecific ssuggestionss I am authorized to make, and to elaborate upon how they might be implemented to our mutual advantage.”
“I would enjoy hearing them.” Smiling encouragingly, Sertoa turned fully toward his reptilian guest, admiring the play of the tanning lights on the AAnn’s gleaming, iridescent scales.
When in the course of the next morning’s casual conversation an acquaintance happened to mention that Jorge Sertoa had spent the entire previous morning and well on into the afternoon in the company of a visiting, high-ranking AAnn envoy, Fanielle Anjou began a frantic search of the compound for the pair. She was more than a little exhausted and out of breath when she was eventually directed to the diplomatic compound’s gymnasium and health complex. At first thought, it seemed an unlikely venue in which to pursue diplomacy between differing species. It did have the virtue of comparative privacy, however. That in itself conjured unwelcome possibilities she tried but was unable to put out of her mind.
She thought about mentioning it to Toroni, but without anything more to go on than suspicions of suspicions, she could hardly go barging into his office with eyebrows raised and arms flailing. She would have to bring something more to such a confrontational meeting than a personal dislike of the reptilian bipeds.
It was midafternoon when she found herself peeling off her clothes as she strode determinedly through the changing room. A few users she knew spoke to her. She returned their hellos and greetings as amiably as she could, even though her mind was elsewhere.
It was almost worth forcing the encounter just to see the look on Sertoa’s face when, as naked as anyone else in that end of the complex, she pushed her way into the otherwise deserted tanning room to confront him and the AAnn envoy. Ignoring her open-mouthed colleague, she directed her attention to the alien, whose shimmering, leathery scales served to frame an otherwise interesting if unremarkable anatomy.
“Fanielle . . .” More than a little nonplussed, the unabashedly uncomfortable Sertoa struggled to keep his eyes on her face. Though she paid little attention to him, his efforts to appear resolutely uninterested amused her. She was far more interested in the AAnn. Seated on one of the long wooden benches, his tail switching from floor to wall, the envoy regarded her with curiosity. That his slitted eyes roved freely over her nude form unsettled her not a bit. Being utterly nonhuman, there was nothing in his gaze to affect her.
Bypassing Sertoa, she approached the alien and extended a hand. Not as her colleague had done, but with fingers upraised, crooked at both joints and parted, nails pointing forward. The AAnn did not rise, but gracefully met her gesture with his left hand. Their fingers interlocked, her soft ones separating his tough, leathery digits. She felt the strength of the highly evolved carnivore held in reserve. Then he released his grip. The not-unpleasant sensation reminded her of letting go of the strap of a particularly well made leather handbag. As he leaned back against the molded wall, she introduced herself. Nearby, Sertoa was stammering something as he tried to regain control of the situation. AAnn and female ignored him. For a brief moment, he was unsure which of the two was the more alien.
“I am Fanielle Anjou, second assistant undersecretary for thranx affairs on Hivehom.”
Slitted, reptilian eyes met her own. Neither pair fell; neither pair wavered. “I am Baron Preed NNXV, sspecial envoy at large for his Imperial Majessty Hezenezzk V. I greet you as an equal, and wissh you all the natural warmth that doess not exisst in thiss place.” One clawed hand gestured second-degree irony. “Except in thiss peculiar but mosst welcome inner chamber. While my quarterss are ssatissfactory, if the facilitiess would allow it, I would gladly sspend the remainder of my sstay right here.” Before Anjou could respond, he added, “Does not thiss sstrong light burn your pale, unprotected sskin?”
“If one spends much time in here, yes, it does,” she admitted.
Double eyelids blinked. “But you come in here to do thiss voluntarily.”
“I already told you; it’s necessary for our health,” an increasingly impatient Sertoa reminded his guest.
“Most remarkable.” The AAnn’s gaze traveled unapologetically up and down Anjou’s nude form. Not only did it not trouble her, she found it instructive to reciprocate the action. “I was enjoying a usseful chat with your good friend and colleague here concerning the lamentable sstate of human-AAnn relationss, and how it would be agreeable if more attention could be devoted to improving the nasscent relationsship that pressently exisstss between our two peopless. But it sseemss that certain of your associatess feel ssuch time iss better sspent attempting to win over the affection of thesse reeking, sswarming bugss.”
“The government of Earth and its colonies manages the development of all interspecies relationships with equal care and attention. I’m sorry if the AAnn feel neglected.” Off to one side, Sertoa was looking unhappy.
Preed’s jaws parted, showing very sharp theropod-like teeth. “It iss not that we feel neglected. Intersstellar, intersspeciess conssanguinity cannot be fasshioned overnight. It iss merely that ssome of uss feel your people are devoting overmuch in the way of diplomatic energiess to attempting to create ssome kind of association with thesse hard-sshelled creaturess that goess beyond the ussual diplomatic formalitiess. As you musst know, the Empire hass had ssome ssmall differencess with the bugss in the passt. Therefore, it iss only natural that we would pay sspecial attention to anything that would ssuggesst the bugss are attempting to misslead another, powerful sspeciess ssuch as yoursselves as to the true nature of our hisstorical relations.”
“I can assure you that is not the case.” Perspiration was beginning to pour in tiny rivulets down her body: her cheeks, her shoulders and breasts, down her belly and thighs and back. She ignored the damp stickiness. “My government respects all sentients, and treats equally with all. As to any quarrels you and the thranx may have had in the past, that is none of our business and does not affect our relations with them or with you.”
Preed’s hands wove patterns in the superheated air, indicating contentment and—something else she could not interpret. “It iss alwayss reassuring to hear ssuch words, particularly from ssomeone sso clearly verssed in the realitiess of intersstellar diplomacy as yoursself, Ms. Anjou. While I have time left here, I would look forward to converssing with you at greater length on ssuch interessting matterss.”
“So would I.” She blinked sweat from one eye. “Unfortunately, I have to travel to Daret tomorrow.”
Sertoa frowned. “I don’t recall your being scheduled for a visit to the capital this week.”
“You can’t know everything, Jorge. You know how these things come up. I’m not happy about it myself.” She returned her attention to the AAnn diplomat. “I regret that I will not be able to talk with you further, noble Preed.”
He gestured his disappointment. “We musst each of uss follow our directivess. My own sschedule iss ssimilarly inflexible. I wissh you a ssafe journey. I undersstand there wass a ssorrowfully fatal accident recently in your local transsport ssytem that affected you perssonally.”
She stiffened slightly. “Yes, it did.”
He tilted his head to one side as he gestured balletically with his left hand. “I would disslike hearing that a ssimilar fate had befallen one sso charming and knowledgeable as yoursself.”
“I’ll be careful,” she assured him evenly. “As for you, have a care with your room’s climate control. It can sometimes get quite chilly up here at night. And chilly for us could mean forced enervation for you.” Somewhat against her better judgment, she allowed herself a small smile. “I would dislike hearing that your stiffened form had to be shipped back to Blassussar in a crate because you forgot to check your room’s temperature settings.”
Again the AAnn’s head and hands danced in concert. This time she could not tell what, if anything, he was gesturing. “I will remember your cautioning with thankss.”
Turning, she exited purposefully from the tanning chamber. Sertoa watched her for longer than he intended before resuming his interrupted dialogue with the AAnn.
“I fear that where human-thranx versus human-AAnn relations are concerned, my colleague is of a different mind than you or I. She has developed not only a working relationship with the bugs, but something suspiciously like affection. I’m afraid she’s allowed her admiration for the local culture to cloud her professional judgment.” He resumed his seat on the wooden bench. “She and I often find ourselves on opposite sides of discussions. It’s all very polite and professional, of course, but each of us knows where the other stands.”
Swinging his long tail around, Preed used the tip to scratch under his left leg. “It iss of no import. My government undersstands that opinion among your kind iss sstrongly divided over how to proceed with human-thranx relationss. It iss my tassk, and that of my compeerss operating on other worldss, to enssure that human-AAnn relationss are not overlooked in thiss headlong russh that iss being advocated by ssome of your people to erect an unnecessarily intimate association with the bugss. In the coursse of normal negotationss it would be unreassonable to expect that everyone in your diplomatic sservice would believe as ssenssibly as yoursself. But that iss all right; that iss acceptable. We musst ssimply work harder to convince Ms. Anjou of the right way of thinking.”
Sertoa let out a derisive laugh. “You’ve only just met Fanielle. You might as well try to move the local star to another system as change her mind.”
Preed gestured, expanding to soak up the wonderful parching heat of the chamber. “My people were engaged in the bussiness of intersstellar diplomacy long before your kind took itss firsst tentative sstepss into deep sspace. We have made it, if not a sscience, at leasst a very well honed tool. With great experience and patience, many thingss originally thought impossible have come to pass. Perhapss thesse achievementss might even extend to recruiting your redoubtable Ms. Anjou to our way of thinking.” Lowering his spread arms and upraised tail, he settled himself as best he could on the bench opposite the human.
“Now let uss sspeak of comely thingss, of what pleasses you and what pleasses me, and for a while at leasst, talk no more of diplomacy and matterss portentouss.”
But while Sertoa nattered on, a portion of the noble’s thoughts were devoted to the female human who had so recently departed. She was bright, that one, and determined. An unhealthy combination. Despite what he had told Sertoa about the experience and expertise of the AAnn diplomatic service, and the skill of its operatives, she would be difficult to convince of the right way of seeing things. Procedures lined up in his mind like spikes in an advanced game ofjyss-ul-nacch .
If she could not be convinced, she would have to be persuaded.