The two Trolanni were silent, angry, and disappointed, but their more subtle feelings were rendered unreadable because of the buildup of emotional radiation coming from Irisik. But it, too, remained silent as the Monitor Corps officer continued speaking.
“Your people will also be assessed,” it went on, “but as a technologically advanced star-traveling species, that will be a formality. Over the past century we have discovered several planets, as fresh and clean and unpolluted as this one and without indigenous intelligent life, that would suit your requirements. Considering the relatively few Trolanni remaining on your dying home world, transportation for yourselves, and your personal possessions and technical support hardware, would be no problem… .”
Feelings of pride and enthusiasm suffused the words like a bright, emotional fog as it went on. “… We have Emperor-class capital ships—technically, vessels of war although they haven’t been used as such since the Etlan police action. Their beam weapons will clear large areas of ground for building and cultivation, and colonization transports and specialist officers to advise on moving your population to a new, clean world. We will help you while you are getting established, but not too much because taking over the responsibility completely would be psychologically undesirable. You might become overly dependent on us rather than independent. That’s an important part of the Federation’s first-contact philosophy. And you can forget about the druul. Unless they begin to show evidence of civilized behavior they won’t be going anywhere.”
“But wait,” said Jasam, radiating sudden worry. “You’re talking about moving a planetary population. You will need very big ships.”
“Don’t worry,” said the other, “we have big ships.”
While they had been speaking, the pressure of Irisik’s emotional radiation had been building up to the point where angry words would be its only release. Prilicla knew to the split second when it would speak.
“You are talking and behaving as if I am not here,” it said furiously. “It is not easy for me to say this, for I am a person of rank and influence among my fishing clan, but there is a possibility that I have misunderstood the situation and I wish to speak to all of you about that.”
“They may not wish to speak to you,” said Naydrad, breaking its long silence, “or even listen to you.”
The Crextic glider pilot, who was still post-operatively debilitated from its recent major surgery but was otherwise recovering well, spoke for the first time.
Slowly and weakly it said, “Irisik is the mate of our clan’s Krititkukik, our senior captain and fleet commodore. As such she is rarely placed in a position where it is necessary for her to apologize for anything, but she is trying to do so now. She is an independent, strong-willed, intelligent, and abrasive person who must be finding the process of apologizing very difficult.”
“Cloud-walker,” said Irisik sharply, “your tone lacks respect. Be quiet or, or I’ll bite your head off.”
“Promises,” said the pilot softly.
Prilicla concurred. Judging by Irisik’s emotional radiation it was finding it very difficult to apologize, but not impossible. Now was the time for him to rejoin them and, so far as the Crextic patients were concerned, start laying down Federation law and telling them the unpleasant truth—possibly more unpleasant than their earlier personal fear of being eaten—about their present situation. But the spider had come to a crucial decision, and from the dialogue that was developing and the accompanying emotional radiation, Prilicla knew what it was. He was flying slowly and happily into the recovery ward when the captain spoke urgently from the communicator.
“Doctor,” it said, “the heavies have arrived. Three Monitor Corps cruisers, the cultural contact vessel Descartes and Sector Marshal Dermod’s flagship Vespasian, no less. He has been appraised of our situation but says, regrettable as it is, that we must not risk jeopardizing the successful Trolanni contact by allowing them and our other casualties to be killed due to our bungled contact with the Crextic. The sector marshal says we must on no account sacrifice our own people and two members of an intelligent, star-traveling species. It says that it was a difficult decision but he had to make it. We are ordered to move all casualties to Rhabwar, warn off the spiders, and take off forthwith.”