"Yes, after a thousand years. If you want the approval of the conclave to join your Central Worlds, you will cede Sky Clear to the Cridi. We have prior landing rights. You have said so yourself." Keff wouldn't have believed it, but Big Voice's shrill cheeping did manage to sound menacing. Two of the six council members present, and a few among the entourage bobbed up their heads in agreement.
"That's blackmail," Carialle said. "I wonder how much power he really holds in the conclave. Smooth Hand looks a little shocked at the tactics."
"We can't afford to find out," Keff said sublingually. "If, good sir, you would care to examine the records, you would see that when humans landed on Ozran-or Sky Clear, if you prefer," he corrected himself, seeing that Big Voice was swelling fit to pop, "they were unaware of the presence of the Cridi, owing to the subterfuge of the Others. See here. Do not ask only me. Tall Eyebrow himself will explain that the current generation of Cridi have no objections to sharing the planet with humans. Small Spot is the archivist. He can direct you to the correct records."
Another male, wearing a green cape, pushed forward to get the conclave council's attention. "I withhold approval because I still do not believe in this story of a lost colony. These three Cridi must come from another part of our own world. This is a hoax. A ship built in secret." A chorus of agreement, plus wild signing came from a portion of the group, obviously this male's supporters.
"Uh-oh," Carialle said. "Shades of Ozran."
"Snap Fingers, your data is faulty," Smooth Hand said patiently, shaking his head.
"I would suggest," Keff signed patiently, "that the internal evidence in the archives, added to the fact that we humans are here with the Sky Clear delegation, will prove otherwise."
"Fabricated!"
"But the aliens…?" Smooth Hand began, with a glance at Keff.
"Random chance met!"
"But where?' Big Eyes asked, innocently, "when no whole ship has come in or out of atmosphere for fifty years?"
Big Voice glared fiercely at her.
"Fifty years?" Carialle repeated. "Why hasn't their space program been active for fifty years?"
Keff tried to interrupt the argument to ask, but no one was paying attention to him. The air was full of Cridi. The male in the green cape tapped Smooth Hand's shoulder and flung angry gestures in the old one's face. Big Voice addressed Big Eyes and Snap Fingers alternately, spinning to confront each of them in turn. Creaking broke out all over, making the group sound like a marsh pond in mating season. In spite of the seriousness of the subject, Keff had to try hard not to smile. He hoped fervently that the recording mechanism in IT would be able to distinguish between thirty different Cridi voices when it tried to translate this mess.
Big Voice interrupted with a shrill whistle ordering them to diminish volume. "No decision can be made now! It will take much time for all the archives to be read," he signed.
"Then, please read them," Keff said, sitting up very tall so they had to look up at him. "No decision of any importance should be made in haste."
There was general approval for such a wise suggestion. Big Voice looked upset, as if Keff had stolen his thunder by being reasonable. "We shall read them, you may be assured," he signed, his face grim. "In the meantime, no assurances can be made for or against membership. I shall withhold approval until then myself."
"As you will, gentle-male," Keff said, describing a sitting bow with the flourishes born of long practice.
"Whew!" said Carialle. "At once thrust into the fire and pulled out of it again by the same frog."
"Hot air," signed Big Eyes, merrily. "I am in favor of membership. Many advantages."
"Brash youngster," Smooth Hand said fondly. "Do not decide without all facts."
"Facts dull," Big Eyes said. "Still, should like to see Ozran." She glanced over toward Tall Eyebrow with an approving look. Keff made a mental note to mention the young female's interest to his friend. Then she stood up on her toes and whistled a shrill signal as a tall, thin frog with a mottled skin of a pleasant brownish green entered the big chamber. Keff could tell that he was very old, but he still walked upright. He saw Big Eyes and waved back.
"My father," Big Eyes signed, as the male joined the group. "Narrow Leg I, seventh offspring," Big Eyes offered, presenting the human and the Cridi to one another.
"Seventieth?" Keff asked, singing the number carefully in the highest voice he could muster.
"No," she gestured, and repeated the fluting snatch of song, making sure he saw and heard no decimal multiplier.
"Oops!" Keff exclaimed. "This is an old, thin lad, Big Eyes' dad," he said, playfully to Carialle, noticing the twinkle in the elderly Cridi's eye and deciding at once that he liked him. "No, tad. Tad Pole."
"Oh, Keff," Carialle groaned. Keff snickered. Big Eyes explained Keff to her father with a few gestures, then turned to the human.
"Narrow Leg is head of current space program. Answer questions."
"At last," Keff said, happily. "How do you do, sir?"
"Pleased to meet you," said Narrow Leg. "Wanting to converse on spaceships." He described with a few graceful signs the contours of craft much like Carialle's. Keff stared. Even for a race that had unusually large and long hands, Tad Pole's were extraordinary. When his hand was closed the tips of the fingers seemed to reach partway down the wrist. The gold filigree amulet circuitry looked like an ancient Chinese aristocrat's fingernail stalls. "May I hope for some increment of your time?"
"At some point, I would love to compare our programs with yours," Keff said. "I expect that we'll be discussing the possibility of Cridi joining the Central Worlds for a while longer."
"Ah!" Narrow Leg squeaked. "A unity of many peoples. Will there be a vote?" he asked the councillors.
"No. Nothing will be settled today," Smooth Hand signed.
"Why not?" Narrow Leg asked.
His daughter made an impatient gesture. "They say reading of archives takes time, then the conclave must discuss everything to death. We and Keff shall be hauled back here again and again. Negotiations held up because there are factions who don't believe Tall Eyebrow and Keff are who they say they are. non-ex-planetary."
"Nonsense!" Narrow Leg gestured definitely. "Of course they are! To what purpose, to what end to create an elaborate charade of this nature? Do you think such a creature as this," he indicated Keff, "arose from primordial ooze without us noticing? He is from beyond atmosphere, and, if you will believe your beacons-and you should-from beyond our system. Human," he turned to the brawn. "Will you take me to your spaceship? I would like to see it."
"I should be honored, gentle-male," Keff replied.
"Bring him," Carialle said. "He's one of the few so far who is making sense."
"And my partner will welcome you, also," Keff added. Narrow Leg looked gratified.
"Not settled yet the questioning about sharing Sky Clear," Big Voice interrupted with an alarming shriek meant to regain the floor. "Do you not realize the offense given by involuntary sharing of Sky Clear?"
"Offense?" Keff asked. "Hadn't you better ask Tall Eyebrow about the cooperative colony? Right now humans and Cridi are coexisting rather well. And without much consultation you could abort an experiment that has the possibility of breaking new ground in interspecies cooperation."
Big Voice wasn't interested. "We explored that sector. It is the first of our colonies we have heard from for fifty years. We want it to revert to Cridi, with no interference."
"Fifty years again," Carialle said urgently. "Ask why it's been so long since there's been contact outside the system."
"Yes," said Keff. "Why isn't space program running?"
All the elders except Narrow Leg turned to glare at Big Eyes.