"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 forgott
en, 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 dr
essed 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.
The Ship Who Saved the Worlds Page 41