“Heesa,” Jemunu-jah replied with curt courtesy.
Round, baby-soft eyes turned to goggle up at him. “Do not think you are alone in your emotions. I am similarly less than happy with the present arrangement, and would have much preferred to contract this business with another of my own kind.”
At least they had that much in common, Jemunu-jah mused. “I feel same way. Two Deyzara searching by themselves step out of skimmer in Viisiiviisii, that two less Deyzara on my world.” He waited for the other to disagree by retorting, “Our world,” but the two-trunk was either too preoccupied or too smart to respond overtly to the deliberate challenge. What he did say mildly surprised the Sakuntala.
“As much as it pains me to admit it, you are most probably correct, sir.”
Though it was at most a mild honorific, and a human one at that, it was not what Jemunu-jah had expected to hear.
The Deyzara raised a hand and pointed. Following the line formed by the two soft opposing digits, Jemunu-jah found himself looking at what at first glance appeared to be a pair of transparent perambulating storage containers advancing up the walkway. As they drew nearer, he saw that each protective layer sheltered one of the other major partners in the Commonwealth, the hard-shells who called themselves thranx. They were progressing with agonizing slowness, as if (despite their use of four trulegs and two foothands to additionally steady themselves) they feared each step would send them tumbling into the water below.
“Look at them.” Though he knew it was not a mature reaction, Jemunu-jah could hardly contain his amusement at the sight. “They step like newborns.”