"See how easy and less cumbersome this is," Tall Eyebrow said, a couple of weeks later, as he and Keff made a quick breakfast in the ship before joining Narrow Legs and Big Eyes at the spaceship facility. Long Hand and Small Spot had left early for meetings with conclave members who wanted clarification of questions they had regarding the archives. Tall Eyebrow had managed to beg off meetings about minutiae, preferring to save himself for constitutional debate and conversations about trade. He was relieved that the council accepted his excuses, allowing him to devote more attention to gaining insights on current Cridi technology and, not incidentally, to spend more time with Big Eyes.
With his knees curled up next to him on the round bench seat, he stretched out his hand and closed his fingers. The food synthesizer turned on, and produced a bowl of greens. As the hatch opened, the bowl flew of its own accord to the table and set itself before Tall Eyebrow with a loud clatter. Some of the contents spattered Keff, who jumped up and brushed at his tunic. The Frog Prince grinned sheepishly.
"Forgive. I am having to refine my heavy touch in order not to crush what I reach for, or send myself flying high up in the air. But, I like it," he said, holding up his hand and turning it so the gold circuitry twinkled in the cabin light. "The council has promised to send sufficient circuitry plus full plans to update the Core of Ozran. It may be possible that all shall have amulets once again, including the mages and magesses."
"Do you think that's a good idea?" Keff asked. "You know most of them will just use it for selfish purposes." He reached for the last of the toast. Carialle was amused by his food choices. Everything he had eaten on the ship for the last several days had contained some stiff fiber. He complained that he'd had enough mush in the Cridi diet, and if he could avoid eating the live insects which were considered a local delicacy, he'd just as soon do so.
"You don't have to give them the new system," Carialle said. "Let the humans keep using the old amulets."
"No!" Tall Eyebrow threw that suggestion away from him with an outthrust hand. "We will all learn responsibility together."
"Attaboy," Keff said, "but long-entrenched privilege is hard to give up."
"True. They have coped well, though further temptation may be hard on them. We will no longer be without oversight from your government, is that not correct?" Tall Eyebrow signed, before picking up his fork. He took one bite, then laid the fork down again to talk. "Nor of mine. I look forward to seeing how well my people can prosper with more Core utility. The transformation of our living quarters will be absolute! More access, more water, better irrigation, less threat from natural pests. We must learn more of the language of science to better communication Ozran-wide. I will give the teachers a current lexicon for teaching the younger generation. We older must pick it up as we go. But we have learned well how to use the amulets. After all these years, our theoretical models proved to be accurate!"
"Good plans, all," Carialle said.
"It's nice to be vindicated, after all your hardship," Keff said. "And now that you're in contact with your homeworld again, the transference of technology will be easier."
"Ah, yes, but what a world we return to! Technology advances beyond our dreams."
"But even we humans have some of these things they're giving you," Keff pointed out.
"It isn't the same," TE said. "These beings look like us. We feel they should be more like us, but they are not. It is almost as if we are a different species after so much time. It is confusing that they look like us, but do not think like us. They are more wasteful of resources than we, except in the space program. It is worrying. I do not want our people to become so profligate."
"It'll take more than one generation to do that," Keff assured him.
"The Cridi here do not understand why we have not progressed as they have. I am only able to show that, after a long slide backwards, we are regaining our footing. And that does not impress them."
"It impresses us," Carialle said. "You held on to your culture, even your science, with no possibility of relief in sight. That kind of determination is most admirable. Central Worlds certainly was bowled over by our reports."
"But in our own nation we are only country bumpkins," TE said, pronouncing the Standard phrase in his high-pitched squeak. Keff blinked his eyes several times. Carialle could see he was controlling his face to keep from bursting out into understandable but inappropriate laughter.
"Don't let them get you down," she said. "After all, how often are you going to see any of them ever again when we take you home?"
"I don't know," TE said. His face was a study in mingled regret and relief. "Big Eyes is . . ." his hands paused briefly, "an interesting person."
"She likes you, too," Keff said.
"But she talks so fast," TE's posture showed despair. "Everyone talks too fast." He settled down dejectedly on the round bench with his legs curled up. "I am a relic."
"You're not a relic," Keff said. "The Cridi have had it easy, and you've virtually lived in a desert war zone. You can't expect most of them to understand what you've been through."
"Besides, you're doing an admirable job," Carialle added. "I've been keeping an ear on the transmissions, and watching the other delegate members whenever I can hook into the mass communication signals. The airwaves are full of interviews with the delegates, portions of the transcripts from the archives, footage from the floor of the Main Bog, color commentators—the full-budget extravaganza. The general consensus is that you are an articulate and strong leader, with an admirable mind. Even the council members who don't agree with you are very impressed with you."
TE studied the floor for a minute while his mobile face went through a series of peculiar grimaces: pride, embarrassment, hope, joy, and shyness. To cover the moment, Keff spoke up eagerly.
"And me?"
"Well, they still think you're a talking dog."
"What?" Keff's face fell.
"I'm joking," Carialle said. "I am joking. You're the flavor of the month. You're the most popular man on Cridi."
"I'm the only man on Cridi," Keff pointed out.
"We're lucky there's a free press here. Force of popular opinion will sway the council members who are against us," Carialle said. "You wait and see."
As Carialle had predicted, once word had spread around Cridi of their arrival, the public arena had discussed the situation, dissecting it to its very smallest particles of meaning, and had decided that they believed Tall Eyebrow and his party to be truthful about their odyssey from Ozran. Public opinion was split on whether or not to try and reclaim Sky Clear, but all were in favor of trading with the vast human empire which had been their unknown neighbor for centuries.
As the sole representative of the Central Worlds, Keff was their model. Young Cridi he saw in the streets had begun to wear clothes like his, and adopted his posture, even some of his mannerisms. Some even dyed their skin to match his. The hue was disconcerting on hides normally ranging from yellow-green to brown-green.
But the human trait that spread the fastest and most generally was a smile. Strange Cridi smiled at him in imitation of his own crinkly-eyed, dimpled-cheek grin. It was all the rage. Keff sat in the evenings with Carialle, watching the news programs, including video of himself, usually shot from the knees up so that his face was telescoped into an isosceles triangle. The commentators discussed, with terse movements and much cheeping of navigational and trigonometry, the location and profusion of Central Worlds systems. One even pointed out, to Keff's surprise, the system settled by humans that lay quite close to them on the other side of the R-sector benchmark. That was the original trading post that had been the site of Carialle's disaster. Keff watched Carialle's reactions closely, but she was too involved in the ongoing negotiations and recording gigabytes of data for Xeno to be troubled by her memories.
Keff and the Ozranians were invited all over Greedeek and to the other cities on Cridi by homeworlders eager to meet the long-lost travelers and the alien stranger. Every day there were invitations to visit various societies or venues to talk about Sky Clear, or space travel, or the Central Worlds, or humanity in general. Big Eyes assigned herself the task of social secretary for the four, partly as a courtesy service, but partly, too, to be able to spend as much time as possible with Tall Eyebrow. With a humorous eye, she weeded out the frivolous invitations, or those which she said, "would not be useful or fun." The best of the invitations still made for a very full program. Keff and the three Ozranians spoke to three or more groups per day. He doubted that every civic group wanted to see him or the two junior delegates, but Tall Eyebrow had generously insisted on their inclusion. Privately, Keff thought that the Frog Prince wanted Keff and his two companions nearby for confidence. Tall Eyebrow didn't need anyone to lean on. Once he began speaking about the conditions on Ozran, the agriculture, the people that he led and loved, he was transformed from a nervous, sometimes melancholy figure to a dynamic speaker. Or rather, signer. He stopped asking Keff and Carialle to take him back to Ozran, and began to acknowledge that he deserved his place among his ancestors' people.
Keff and Tall Eyebrow also made a point to spend much of their free time with Narrow Leg at the Cridi space facility. The elder enjoyed talking space with Keff and, by extension with Carialle, exchanging ideas and techniques.
"Human techology is good, very good," Narrow Leg asserted. "Refinements we have forgotten, or never known, worth having."
"There's also a few wiggles that I haven't seen," Carialle said. "I've racked my databases, but I've never before seen a system that allows a planet's worth of temporary power supply to be carried in a cargo hold. If the Cridi government is willing to share that, it'll assuage a lot of hardships for settlers on primitive colony worlds, giving them a pad to work from until they can establish their own systems. The insurmountable trouble is remote control, that's all."
Narrow Leg had the foresight to arrange to have a reporter present at most of the conferences between him and Keff so that all Cridi was party to the discussions.
Over the next weeks, Keff and the others were feted, feasted, and fawned over to exhaustion.
"I'm almost sorry I'm so popular," he confessed to Carialle, as he sat through yet another luncheon where he hunched crosslegged with his meal balanced on his knees. The wooden plate, either a serving platter or a hastily manufactured piece made in proportion to his size, held an unappetizing mess of greens such as Tall Eyebrow and the Ozranians favored, alongside a small clutch of wiggling larvae.
Keff, Tall Eyebrow and his retinue were at the main table in the center of the large room. The Frog Prince, between Smooth Hand and Big Eyes, seemed more relaxed than he had before. Occasionally, Keff felt an invisible hand tap his knee. When he looked up, Tall Eyebrow met his glance, then tilted his head in the direction of this or that conversation. No longer was Sky Clear considered a remote concern. Quite a few local manufacturers and businessfrogs were discussing the possibility of setting up shop on the colony.
Long Hand was fielding such a question from an increasingly insistent Big Voice, who had spread before her holographic photo displays and sheets full of graphs and text.
"But all this, exchanges and imports, must wait, gentle-male," Long Hand protested. "We have no hard currency, and our own exports are few and doubtful at present. Wait a few years, until we have more concerns going so we can deal with you on a more equal basis."
Big Voice was undaunted. "I am eager to secure favorable siting for my manufacturing plants. It means jobs and opportunity for Cridi there. Such things should be settled as quickly as possible. Would you approve of investment from outside, an advance of funds, perhaps, against future interests?"
Long Hand let out a peal of laughter. "We have nowhere to spend this imaginary money, gentle-male. All we may do is add your name to the roster of those interested, and we will be sure to speak to you early when we have anything to offer. You must wait."
Keff, missing none of the important details of the conversation because it was all in sign language, smiled to himself. Big Voice wasn't the only one with an eye toward future profit, just the most persistent.
A female in gold torc and bracelets rose to her feet and clicked insistently in her throat for attention.
"Gentle-females and gentle-males," she signed in full formal language, "we are privileged to welcome the stranger from the Central Worlds. Please give him your kind attention."
"Thank you, madam chairfrog," Keff said in Standard, adding the appropriate courtesies in sign language. "I come to you today to offer your people. . . ."
The Cridi media also clamored for interviews. Keff did his share, but he urged the commentators who came to him to take advantage of the returnees instead.
The most important event of all took place several weeks after the CK-963 had made landfall. Ten thousand Cridi were packed into a low room like an amphitheater, hundreds of meters long. The rows of seats were sloped so that the huge audience could see the stage at the bottom, but the ceiling was quite low. Keff lay on his belly to watch, facing downward in one of the side aisles, sweltering in the high humidity. He had been warned to wear his best tunic, and he had done so. To keep from getting it dirty, he'd snaffled a few huge ear-shaped leaves from a handy plant in the lobby, and used them as a ground sheet. Long, reedlike fronds stuck out every which way from the edges of the leaves. Keff had to push them to one side, and finally tuck them under his body to see.
"Just like it was when we first saw you," Tall Eyebrow said, showing his sharp little fangs in a broad grin, his black eyes glinting, pointing to the waving tendrils. "In the high grass on Ozran."
"I was more comfortable then," Keff said, grinning back. He had to prop himself on his elbows to sign. "The blood's rushing to my head. Try to make this one brief, won't you?"
"If I can, friend Keff, if I can."
Smooth Hand, on his way down with Narrow Leg to take their places at the table on the dais, saw this exchange.
"Do not be in such a hurry to bring this meeting to an end," he said, pausing beside the human and patting him on the shoulder. "You will enjoy it more than any other meeting you have attended."
"What do you mean, sir?" Keff asked. But the old amphibioid would say no more. He put his finger to his lips. Keff shook his head, wryly.
"He's got a secret," Keff said, to Narrow Leg. "A human would do exactly the same thing. Interaction between Cridi is so like that of my own people that I'm seeing parallels to our civilization everywhere."
"Some would not like you to say so," Narrow Leg said, with a twinkle in his eye. "But I see it as natural that two such gregarious spacefaring races should ally." As he saw pleased enlightenment dawn in Keff's face, he, too, put a finger to his lips and hurried after Smooth Hand.
"Did you see that, Cari?" Keff said. "What Narrow Leg just said?"
"Unless I read that entirely wrongly, I think we have ourselves an A-class applicant for membership," Carialle said. "Good one, Sir Knight."
"Whew!" Keff breathed out gustily. "For once the brass is going to be pleased with us." He beamed at all of the delegates gathering on the stage, at anyone passing by. His mood was so expansive that he didn't mind moving half a dozen times to accomodate the placement of video pickups and audio cubes. This transmission was going to be beamed worldwide. Keff hoped his view of it was sufficiently good so that his copy could be broadcast throughout the Central Worlds when they got home.
All eight chief councillors, plus the three Ozranians, and Narrow Leg were seated at a long, low table facing the audience. Two small panels of three members of the press sat to either side.
Smooth Hand began in the way that Keff had become used to over many weeks, greeting the visitors and welcoming them to Cridi. He alluded to the sacrifices that all five of them had made to be there, and to the struggles of the Cridi population on Sky Clear. Tactfully, he made no mention of the debate over exclusivity to the colony world. Muttering and surreptitious handsigning in the audience proved that they knew he was leaving it out. Keff knew the question wouldn't be settled quickly. Smooth Hand continued.
"The question was put to the population regarding membership in the Central Worlds. The conclave has been receiving so many favorable votes that the council, even our skeptical members," he up-nodded toward Big Voice and Snap Fingers, "have agreed to hear more about the subject. Will the large stranger Keff come forward and address the full conclave?"
"With pleasure," he signed. He rose to his hands and knees, removed the camera eye he was wearing, and attached it to the wall of the auditorium facing the stage. "Can you see properly, Cari?" he asked.
"Perfectly," she replied. "Recording for posterity. Good luck, my parfait and gentil diplomat."
Keff turned and crawled down the steep slope to the stage amid loud applause mingled with chirps and creaks. Eyes shining, Tall Eyebrow stood up as Keff approached. Big Eyes sprang to her feet. Narrow Leg, moving more slowly, rose next. All the other councillors followed, Big Voice and Snap Fingers reluctantly, until the entire panel, and the audience were slapping out their acclaim. Carefully keeping one hand over his head to avoid bumping into the low ceiling, Keff stood up. He looked out over the audience. Ten thousand Cridi sat before him, but the entire planet was watching or listening. Keff beamed and waved to the ones he knew, feeling like he was standing on the doorstep of destiny. A few young Cridi in the audience, some dressed in human-style tunics, levitated and turned somersaults in midair for joy. Others cheered and cried out Standard phrases they had learned from Keff's media interviews. Smooth Hand signalled for quiet, and signed to Keff to begin his remarks. While the others sat down, Big Eyes remained standing to repeat Keff's speech aloud.
"Thank you for your kind reception," Keff signed, and was amused to hear the phrase reduced to a few notes and trills in the female's high, piping voice. "The Central Worlds is an organization of member states whose purpose is to provide a stable government for the benefit of those planets and stations within its borders. The Central Committee, or CenCom," he enunciated the words and heard Big Eyes repeat it, "is dedicated to reaching out to every people on every planet. To those that have reached a certain level of technological and social advancement, we offer full membership. While my partner, Carialle, and I have found numerous races alien to ourselves in our travels, we always dreamed that one day we would locate that civilization, that people, which had evolved in parallel to ourselves, and were of an equal level in all ways, so that we could be friends and allies, instead of benefactor, patron, or in some cases, a right nuisance."
There was a patter of appreciative laughter. Keff smiled.
"If indeed, you are pleased that the Central Worlds and Cridi have found one another at last, you owe a debt of gratitude to Tall Eyebrow. He, and the leaders who came before him, have preserved Cridi culture on a remote outpost against the most incredible odds, helping it to survive until we discovered it. He is responsible for leading us here so we could be with you today. In the last few weeks I've seen a lot of your planet. I admire your culture. I have seen examples of your art, particularly evident in the architecture and gardens of this beautful city; and strides forward in science. In particular, I want to mention the Core power system, an advance which has never been duplicated in the Central Worlds. You can help us to move into the future. I think we can also help you. And together, we can help support the people of Sky Clear. Thank you very much." He sat down crosslegged next to the dais. Ten thousand pairs of hands pounded together, filling the amphitheater with sound that grew louder and louder until the very walls seemed to shake.
Keff shot a glance at the council. Tall Eyebrow sat proudly erect between Narrow Leg and Big Eyes. Big Voice was conferring energetically with the councillors on either side of him. Smooth Hand let the applause go on, then raised his hands for silence.
"I am sure you have many questions for the tall stranger, now to be called our friend, I hope," he signed, with a slight smile toward Keff. "For now, let your sign be counted. If you approve the approach to Central Worlds, send your vote to your precinct now. Thank you all."
Reporters hurried forward from the side tables and the audience, swamping the panel. Free-floating remote cameras buzzed over their heads and zoomed from face to face, gathering reactions like a species of psychological honey bee. The air was full of flurried gestures and excited Cridi voices. After weeks of intensive training in the spoken language Keff understood more of the verbal exchanges than ever before, and he was delighted with the response.
"Can you hear it, Cari? They want it. They're going to join us."
Carialle sounded amused. "Don't count your chickens in advance, softshell . . . but I think you're right. You should hear some of the scuttlebutt going about on the amulet airwaves. I'm recording the best ones for you to hear later. 'Maximum joy and maximum profit' was the one I heard from Big Voice's media aide."
"And here's the man himself," Keff said, seeing a solemn delegation forcing its way toward them through the crush on the platform. "Good gentle-male."
"Tall stranger," Big Voice signed, very politely. "I have exchanged tentative words with Long Hand with regard to the spacecraft concession for Sky Clear. Should this proposition now before us come to pass, I would be concerned that a human delegation might . . . put in a rival bid for choice sites."
"That's the nature of business throughout the universe," Keff signed cheerfully, teasing the pompous amphibioid. Clearly shaken, Big Voice tried again.
"Would not Central Committee consider priority for primary sentient species?" His hands fluttered desperately, trying to gauge Keff's response. "Or partnership?" Keff grinned and relented.
"Central Worlds would not take away the rights from one member species in favor of another," he said. "If you can get an exclusive agreement from the Cridi on Sky Clear, the CenCom won't interfere with that at all."
"Thank you," Big Voice signed, gratefully. "Thank you, tall stranger Keff." He moved away, once again in pursuit of Long Hand. Tall Eyebrow, having observed the whole thing from his place on the dais, grinned to show his sharp white teeth. Keff gave him a wink.
More media types swooped in on him, signing or singing questions from all sides. Keff tried to answer them all in turn, knowing he was getting some of the words wrong in his haste, hoping it wouldn't matter. The IT earned its keep that day, translating his spoken replies into Cridi music, so he could carry on two conversations at once.
"Will other humans come to Cridi?" was among the most frequently asked questions. "Will we be able to visit your worlds?"
"You will be most welcome everywhere you go," Keff said. "In fact, we will expect a return visit, just as soon as Narrow Leg's team finishes constructing their first spaceship." He turned to gesture with an open hand toward the old male who stood half a head taller than every other Cridi in the room. He stiffened with pride.
"That is right, and only right," Narrow Leg said, "that we should make our first visit to our new allies in our own spacecraft. And you may take my words straight to heart. We will be ready."
The reporters chirruped excitedly, obviously adding color commentary.
Smooth Hand moved to the center of the dais then, and held up his long, wrinkled hands.
"The tabulation is finished," he signed, and announced the figures. The numbers were so large that his voice rose almost out of Keff's range of hearing.
"Did I get that right, Cari? Twenty million in favor of membership?"
"Unless your program here split a chip, those in favor of the Central Worlds was 25,697,204. Against: 3,402,110."
Smooth Hand repeated the good news to the crowd, who echoed it as they danced in the aisles. "The measure passes! The measure passes! We join!"
"Sit down, sit down," the elder signed. "There is one thing left to do. Please. May we have your attention?"
It took some time until the jubilant Cridi settled back into their seats. The senior councillor turned to Keff.
"This is a great moment for our people. Not only have we rediscovered our lost children, but we make a bond with new friends." He signalled to an aide to come forward.
The silver-torqued frog glided swiftly onto the stage bearing two long rectangles of a high gloss wood. On each was engraved a long screed in an incredibly tiny and intricate script. Beside the Cridi language was the text in Standard. Keff looked up in surprise.
"I helped the engraver with the correct wording," Tall Eyebrow told Keff. "I took it directly from Carialle's file of such documents. You will find it in order, I promise you."
"And I took it from the databanks of your more than unusually helpful IT," Carialle said in his ear.
"You see," Keff said, sublingually. "In no time, you'll look back on the days when you used to laugh at my program."
"I don't see those days receding behind us, Keff," Carialle said, sardonically, "but in this case it came through."
"Is all in order?" Tall Eyebrow asked, concerned.
"I'm absolutely certain it's all right," Keff said, reassuringly. "I have never seen an official government document look so beautiful."
"You honor us," Smooth Hand said, bowing over his moving hands.
At each side of the document were blank blocks enclosed in festoons of scrollwork, images of vines, flowers, insects and birds. Keff figured out that those were the signature blocks when he managed to decipher his name, picked out delicately in filament-thin characters, running in a border around the right-hand block.
The aide floated over the heads of the crowd and laid the squares of wood neatly beside one another in the center of the table. Smooth Hand followed to stand with one long hand touching each.
Smooth Hand nodded to Keff to join him. The crowd of reporters parted, flowing back into the main audience. Keff fumbled at his tunic pocket and drew out two small devices.
"I'm so excited I nearly forgot these," he said. "These are short-run permanent recorders which I would like to use to immortalize this moment for the CenCom. One is a gift to you, to keep in your admirable archives."
"We thank you for your thoughtfulness," Smooth Hand said. "Your request is granted. Set them where they will catch all of this great moment."
"Well," Keff said, picking up the silver scriber the aide handed him. He tested it against his palm and found it sharp-edged enough to skim off a layer of skin. "This is it, Carialle."
"This is it," she agreed. "A moment for all the Central Worlds, and for us as well. Go for it, Sir Galahad."
"I do it all for you, Lady Fair." He grinned to himself and nodded to the senior councillor.
Smooth Hand looked out across the sea of faces. "All of you bear witness to this moment, in which we find we are not alone in this great galaxy, but among friends." He took his scriber and incised his name in the left-hand block on both blocks of wood. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. He signalled to Keff, who stepped forward and bowed over the first of the documents.
"Hold it," Carialle's voice said sharply in his ear. "Don't do it."
Keff stopped, arrested with his hand centimeters above the wood. "Why not? What's wrong, Carialle?"
"What is it?" Smooth Hand asked, seeing the human's mouth moving almost silently. "Is something wrong?"
"Cari?"
Her voice in his ear was as crisp and sharp as an artificial-intelligence generated construct. "Don't sign a thing. The entire deal is on hold. I have just received a message back from the CenCom. There's a ship at the perimeter of this system, and they are here to take over negotiations. We are off this mission as of now!"
"What?" Keff demanded. "They can't do that!"
"They can, and have! The CenCom sends its compliments, but we are ordered to step back to avoid any 'unforeseen difficulties.' It's the Inspector General's doing. I am so mad that I could just flame out!"
Keff didn't like the edge in her voice. "Try and stay calm, Lady Fair. I'll get out of here and come to you. We'll discuss this." He looked up at the crowd, who were fluttering surreptitious messages at one another, and at Smooth Hand, clearly wondering what was going on. Swallowing his concern for Carialle, he forced a smile to his lips. He hoped his growing command of the Cridi language would sufficiently support him through this delicate moment.
"Gentle-males and gentle-females, I sincerely beg your pardon," he said, setting down the scriber. A few in the audience gasped at his action, and he made a gesture intended to show humility. "I have just been informed that, er, that diplomats senior to Carialle and myself have just arrived in your star system. This is such an important matter that they wish to take part in this ceremony themselves. If you will forgive this terrible breach of manners, may I beg a short delay until they may join us?"
Smooth Hand's face, compressed into a frown of concern, opened up in comprehension. "Ah!" he squeaked. "I see. With the greatest of reluctance, friend Keff, I see no reason why not to allow. We know and trust you, but we understand the pressures of state."
There was a general murmur, only partly of agreement, from the rest of the council. Keff heard undertones of distrust and dismay beneath it. Big Voice scowled and crossed his arms as if to say he'd assumed all along the humans would back away at the last minute.
"Thank you, Councillor Smooth Hand, and all the rest of the conclave, gentle-females and gentle-males. I must go and prepare for the arrival of our senior delegates. I . . . we'll be back as soon as we can. If you will excuse me?" He barely waited for the council to signal their assent before he was running up the aisles in a crouch.
"Hold on, Lady Fair," he murmured as he ran out of the hall and into the muddy street. "I'll be with you in just a moment. Don't do anything rash."
"I'm not going to do anything," Carialle said, but her voice rose in volume and pitch until he winced. "But Dr. Sennet Maxwell-Corey is going to pay heavily for this. I am not crazy!"