Her power levels all dropped for a dizzying, frightening millisecond. Carialle snapped out of her reverie, and went back on full alert. All scopes were back to normal. She wondered what had happened. Then she became aware that Keff was pounding on her titanium pillar and shouting.
"Carialle! Answer me! Cari!"
"What happened?" she demanded. "I felt a blackout."
The brawn staggered backward, limp with relief. "Tall Eyebrow blinked your power, just once. I'm glad it was enough."
"It was," Carialle said, vastly relieved. "I needed the shock. Thank you, TE." She made her frog image appear. It sketched a graceful half-bow and spread out its hands. The Frog Prince swept a self-deprecatory palm across.
"It was nothing. I was worried."
"I was going to pull the fire bell in a moment," Keff said. "We lost you there, lady."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I… I was back there again. I was counting. Maybe in a way that bastard is right."
"He's not right!" Keff shouted. His normally cheerful face was a furious shade of red. Tall Eyebrow, hovering beside the brawn, shook his head vigorously. "If I could teleport in a blink to where he's laired up, I would find the nearest lavatory and stuff his grinning face down the head. Don't you worry. This is all a mistake. We'll show them the flight path and explain to them what happened. Let's tell Gavon the whole story. I'm sure all he knows is the gossip that's floating around, not the facts."
"I'm not giving up my mission," Carialle said. "We have earned this. We've earned the trust of the locals. We shouldn't be removed from the mission. I want to see it through."
"So do I. Let's send a message to Gavon and ask him to reconsider. He can keep us here as aides, and then we can go back to CW." Keff threw himself into his crash couch, and scooted it up to be right in front of the video pickup.
Carialle calculated the location of the DSC-902, and put all she had behind the tightbeam message. All they could do until Gavon replied was wait.
During the time that passed, a few of the Cridi who had been in the amphitheater when Keff had to leave drifted by to visit and make their compliments. A few of the councillors were sympathetic. Unexpectedly, Snap Fingers was one of them.
"I am in business," he signed. "I came up from the merest clerk to my position now as second continental chief. I hate it that bureaucrats would take an assignment away from you. That should not happen. It shows a lack of confidence in you, which I wanted you to know was an error on the part of your superiors. If you were Cridi, I would be proud to have you working for me."
"You are very kind," Carialle's amphibioid image said with its hands.
"I mean what I say," Snap Fingers returned. "We are on opposite sides of the expansion question, but that does not mean we cannot be friends."
"Good people," Tall Eyebrow said, as the councillor departed. "I am proud to know them."
"You are one of them," Keff assured them.
Narrow Leg arrived just as Carialle received Gavon's reply. Tall Eyebrow quickly brought him up to date in sign language while Keff and Carialle listened to the message.
Captain Gavon's thin face looked more haggard, and his long jaw was set. "I have received your transmission. I regret that I have no 'slack' to cut you. Very, very sorry. This is not my idea. I have to follow my orders, too, you know. They are unequivocal and absolutely clear. I sent the messages on in advance so you could prepare."
"Damn," Keff said, watching with chin propped on his fist. He saw the record light pop on, and sat up straight.
"I am sorry, too," Carialle said, sending on a reply. "We did appreciate the extra notice, but it doesn't change the situation here. I don't want to put you on the spot, but you must see how this affects us."
"And what about the psychological effect on the native population of replacing a trusted team with strangers?" Keff put in earnestly. "You must let us stay. We can be of inestimable help to you."
Carialle sent the message, all the while muttering. "Rotoscoped, animated bastard from a bad, grade-D, psycho-horror flick-in 2-D! I don't mean Gavon," Carialle said quickly, in Keff's ear. "I mean the IG."
"What is he?" Narrow Leg asked, listening with interest but no comprehension to Carialle's stream of invective. Tall Eyebrow attempted to translate, but gave up almost at once as the spare knowledge he had of Standard colloquialisms failed him. Carialle realized belatedly that she had left open the communication channels to the frogs' sign-language image, and swiftly blanked the wall.
"The Inspector General has authority over our department, and he has a personal grudge against Carialle," Keff said, explaining more simply. "He is responsible for having us recalled, and the other team taking our place."
"We have no choice," Carialle broke in. "We'll have to lift sooner or later."
"Maybe I can slow down IT so we have to stay through the negotiations," Keff offered.
Carialle's laugh was bitter. "Hah! IT doesn't need to be slowed down. The holes in it leak data like a screen door."
"That's not fair, lady. IT's been doing a wonderful job here."
She was instantly contrite. "I know. That's true. I'm upset."
"You must not leave," Tall Eyebrow said, gesturing frantically, his black eyes wide. "We may never see you again. How will I and my companions return to Ozran?"
"Gavon will take you," Carialle said. "We have no choice. We're off the mission."
"Or I," Narrow Leg said. "My ship is all but ready to launch. I would be proud to escort you home. Besides," he added, with a shrewd and amused glance, "my daughter would not forgive me if I shortened your time together."
Tall Eyebrow looked somewhat mollified and a little abashed.
"But what about trade between my world and yours?" Narrow Leg asked Keff.
"That won't be affected. Even greater authority for decision-making rests with Gavon. We're not really diplomats. Our usual job is exploration of unknown space. Normally we file the preliminary report on a potentially sentient race. We've never been the follow-up team before."
"We prefer you," Narrow Leg said. "We understand one another, you two and I. A diplomat might not be such a seasoned risk-taker. We may not cooperate with this replacement. I can get the council snarled up for years to delay." The high-pitched voice described a geometric progression.
"Don't. Gavon's a good man," Carialle said. She was pleased by the Cridi's offer to side with them, but disliked the idea of fighting her battles unfairly. "Don't blame him for this. Let's see what he says about letting us stay on to help."
Two hours passed. Keff received more visitors from the conclave, and later served a synthesized meal to the Ozranian delegates, Narrow Leg, and Big Eyes, who turned up again in the late evening to sit with Tall Eyebrow. As he ate, Keff kept his eye on the chronometer, impatiently willing a message to come, to beat the next turn of the number.
"Where is it?" he asked. "Gavon's reply should be on a shorter return loop as the ship nears us. The interval ought to have been no more than half an hour by this time. Isn't he speaking to us?"
"Perhaps Simeon's data is incomplete, and there is a dangerous anomaly in-system," Carialle said, her voice remote from the ceiling speakers. "I'm resending."
Nothing came. Keff cleaned up after dinner, and listlessly did his exercises on the Rotoflex with an interested audience of Cridi commenting on the swell and slide of his muscles.
Carialle found the rhythmic clang! bump! of the weighted pulleys a soothing, mindless pattern, then all at once it irritated her. She opened input to all her antennae.
She strained her "ears" for transmissions on the CW ship's frequency, putting the audio of her receivers onto speaker for the others to hear. Keff stopped his deltoid flex and eased the pulleys to a resting position. He looked up hopefully at the sound of static.