There was a long pause. "Miss Blaine, we have a recorded message for you."
"Thank you."
"Stand by to record."
"Standing by," Freddy said. "Got it. Thanks."
"Commander, can we talk to the Moties?" Glenda Ruth asked.
Another pause. "Yes, but I want to listen in."
"That's all right," Glenda Ruth said. "Maybe you'll hear something I haven't. We don't have a lot of time."
"I'll connect you after you've read your message."
"Thank you. We'll call you back," Freddy said. "Give us half an hour. By the way, what time are you on?"
"It's seventeen fifty-two here."
"Thank you, we'll synchronize." Ship's time for Hecate was 1430, early afternoon. They'd been on a twenty-four-hour ship's day since they left Sparta. "Commander, would you or any of your officers care to join us for dinner?"
"Thank you, Mr. Townsend, hut we're on general alert here. For all we know, there may he a fleet of Motie warships bearing down on us."
"Oh. Yes, of course. Thank you. Half an hour, then."
"Not much here," Glenda Ruth said. "Chris says the Moties came through, seven unarmed ships. One-hah."
"Hah?"
"One asked for Horace Bury, First thing they said."
Freddy chuckled. Then he laughed. "Wow, Glenda Ruth, I've listened to you and Jennifer trying to convince people how smart the Moties are-"
"Actually, it was the only thing to do," Jennifer said. "Now that I think of it. Look, if no one was waiting here, they'd go on into the Empire and-what? Who might be glad to see them? Traders! And Bury's the only trader they know about."
"Well, all right, but I still wish I could have seen his face when they asked for him," Freddy said. "What else do we have?"
Glenda Ruth hesitated, then said, "Jennifer, it isn't really. Obvious. They didn't ask for Imperial Autonetics. They asked for the oldest man on the expedition, a full Motie lifetime ago!"
"Mediator lifetime."
"Whatever. Have you considered who they didn't ask for? Dad. Mom. Bishop Hardy. Admiral Kutuzov! People who could exterminate them or save them from someone else. Oh, hell, I don't have an answer. Chris wants us thinking about it."
Jennifer was nodding. "A puzzlement. Hey Fyunch(click)s to humans can go mad."
"Oh, come on! And Horace Bury's is the one that stayed sane? I just... Let's all keep thinking, okay?"
"Okay. The message?"
"Not much more. Kevin Renner's in charge of the expedition. I always thought-"
"Yes?"
"Let's say it doesn't astound me that he's in charge. Renner left orders to Balasingham to let us into the Mote system unless he has good reason not to. Freddy, he won't want to let us go."
"We'll see," Freddy said. "I sure can't fight him."
"Run away," Jennifer said. "He has to stay to guard the Moties, and he won't shoot at us."
"Don't be silly," Freddy said. "Loaded down the way we are, that cruiser's boats could catch us with a long head start. Glenda Ruth, are you sure we want to go to the Mote?"
"I'm sure," Jennifer said.
"Chris wants us. Freddy, what do they have to bargain with? The Crazy Eddie Worm might make all the difference."
"Shouldn't we leave a breeding set here?"
"Pointless," Glenda Ruth said. "It won't be that long before the Institute ship gets to New Cal. My parents, and all the worms you'd ever want. But meanwhile, Bury and Renner may need bargaining chips fast."
Freddy mulled it over. "Well, all right. Look, how big a hurry are we in?"
"The quicker the better. Why?"
"Then we spend some time here." Freddy touched the intercom button. "Kakumi, it's time to lighten ship. Strip down to racing trim. Leave that special cargo in place, but otherwise lighten ship's stores."
Jennifer caught his grimace. "What?"
"George. He didn't volunteer for this. I'll leave him with the Navy if they'll let me. I sure hope one of you can cook!"
Hecate was in shambles. Freddy and Terry Kakumi worked to strip out bulkheads, rearrange equipment, and neither wanted help from Glenda Ruth or Jennifer. Glenda Ruth watched Freddy connect a hose to the foam wall, suck the air out all in one shoomph, roll it up and expose the master bedroom to all and sundry. Kakumi moved in with the hose, mated it to the bed, and shoomph.
To Hades with it, she thought. I'm going to take a shower while there's still a shower facility.
She felt superfluous. The Navy had no objections to Glenda Ruth's talking to the Moties, but the Moties were taking their time about answering the invitation. Why? Motie Mediators always wanted to talk; the decision must come from the Master, the one called Marco Polo.
Explorer and ambassador. The first expedition to the Mote had consisted of two Imperial warships, MacArthur and Lenin, with Lenin forbidden to talk to the Moties at all, and MacArthur greatly restricted in what information could be passed along. The Moties had obtained several books of human history from Chaplain Hardy of the MacArthur, but none covered events as recent as the invention of the Alderson Drive. That left them a limited number of human names and cultures to draw on,
They had chosen: Marco Polo, the Master. Sir Walter Raleigh, the senior Mediator. Interesting choice of names.
Glenda Ruth heard Jennifer's voice as she wriggled out of the shower bag. "Yes. Henry Hudson? Yes, of course... No, I can't promise that, Mr. Hudson, but I can let you talk to my superior." Jennifer's arm semaphored in frantic circles.
Glenda Ruth slid quickly into a towelsuit and moved up beside her.
Henry Hudson was a young Motie furred in brown and white; the pattern didn't match Glenda Ruth's memories of Jock and Charlie. Family markings differed, maybe. The creature seemed both strange and familiar. This one was probably no more than twelve Mote Prime years old, but Moties matured much faster than humans.
And Mediators aboard the other Motie ships would be watching everything. Glenda Ruth felt a surge of stage fright - nothing to what Jennifer must be feeling.
"Good day to you, Ms. Ambassador," the Motie said. Brown irised manlike eyes looked directly into hers. "Jennifer tells me you are Glenda Ruth Blaine, addressed formally as the Honorable Ms. Blaine. I call myself Henry Hudson, and I speak for Marco Polo, my Master. Might I know the nature and extent of your political power?"
Glenda Ruth smiled with the hint of a deprecating shrug. "Through family relationships, but none given formally. We came in some haste. I'll be granted some decision power just because I was here and others weren't, and my family..." She trailed off. It felt like talking to a squid: the creature wasn't reacting right.
She was vaguely aware that behind her Jennifer was speaking rapidly and quietly into a mike. A middie was in the second viewscreen; then an officer; then Balasingham himself. Good. He didn't try to interrupt.
The Motie said, "It delights me to speak to you regardless."
The creature's Anglic was textbook perfect. Her arms...
"Your progenitors visited us before my birth! Including your father?"
"Father and mother."
"Ah. How did it change them?" Arms, shoulders, head, moved wrongly, with a momentary illusion of broken joints, and Glenda Ruth was suddenly terribly aware of her own arms, shoulders, fingers, body language moving without conscious thought, in a language learned from Charlie and Jock. And suddenly she understood.
"You were not trained by a human's Fyunch(click)!"
"No, milady." The Motie moved its arms in a pattern unfamiliar to Glenda Ruth. "I have been taught your language, and some of your customs. I am aware that you do not experience our cycle of reproduction, and that your power structures are different from ours, but I have been assigned no one human to study."