"Central Worlds would not take away the rights from one member species in favor of another," he said. "If you can get an exclusive agreement from the Cridi on Sky Clear, the CenCom won't interfere with that at all."
"Thank you," Big Voice signed, gratefully. "Thank you, tall stranger Keff." He moved away, once again in pursuit of Long Hand. Tall Eyebrow, having observed the whole thing from his place on the dais, grinned to show his sharp white teeth. Keff gave him a wink.
More media types swooped in on him, signing or singing questions from all sides. Keff tried to answer them all in turn, knowing he was getting some of the words wrong in his haste, hoping it wouldn't matter. The IT earned its keep that day, translating his spoken replies into Cridi music, so he could carry on two conversations at once.
"Will other humans come to Cridi?" was among the most frequently asked questions. "Will we be able to visit your worlds?"
"You will be most welcome everywhere you go," Keff said. "In fact, we will expect a return visit, just as soon as Narrow Leg's team finishes constructing their first spaceship." He turned to gesture with an open hand toward the old male who stood half a head taller than every other Cridi in the room. He stiffened with pride.
"That is right, and only right," Narrow Leg said, "that we should make our first visit to our new allies in our own spacecraft. And you may take my words straight to heart. We will be ready."
The reporters chirruped excitedly, obviously adding color commentary.
Smooth Hand moved to the center of the dais then, and held up his long, wrinkled hands.
"The tabulation is finished," he signed, and announced the figures. The numbers were so large that his voice rose almost out of Keff's range of hearing.
"Did I get that right, Cari? Twenty million in favor of membership?"
"Unless your program here split a chip, those in favor of the Central Worlds was 25,697,204. Against: 3,402,110."
Smooth Hand repeated the good news to the crowd, who echoed it as they danced in the aisles. "The measure passes! The measure passes! We join!"
"Sit down, sit down," the elder signed. "There is one thing left to do. Please. May we have your attention?"
It took some time until the jubilant Cridi settled back into their seats. The senior councillor turned to Keff.
"This is a great moment for our people. Not only have we rediscovered our lost children, but we make a bond with new friends." He signalled to an aide to come forward.
The silver-torqued frog glided swiftly onto the stage bearing two long rectangles of a high gloss wood. On each was engraved a long screed in an incredibly tiny and intricate script. Beside the Cridi language was the text in Standard. Keff looked up in surprise.
"I helped the engraver with the correct wording," Tall Eyebrow told Keff. "I took it directly from Carialle's file of such documents. You will find it in order, I promise you."
"And I took it from the databanks of your more than unusually helpful IT," Carialle said in his ear.
"You see," Keff said, sublingually. "In no time, you'll look back on the days when you used to laugh at my program."
"I don't see those days receding behind us, Keff," Carialle said, sardonically, "but in this case it came through."
"Is all in order?" Tall Eyebrow asked, concerned.
"I'm absolutely certain it's all right," Keff said, reassuringly. "I have never seen an official government document look so beautiful."
"You honor us," Smooth Hand said, bowing over his moving hands.
At each side of the document were blank blocks enclosed in festoons of scrollwork, images of vines, flowers, insects and birds. Keff figured out that those were the signature blocks when he managed to decipher his name, picked out delicately in filament-thin characters, running in a border around the right-hand block.
The aide floated over the heads of the crowd and laid the squares of wood neatly beside one another in the center of the table. Smooth Hand followed to stand with one long hand touching each.
Smooth Hand nodded to Keff to join him. The crowd of reporters parted, flowing back into the main audience. Keff fumbled at his tunic pocket and drew out two small devices.
"I'm so excited I nearly forgot these," he said. "These are short-run permanent recorders which I would like to use to immortalize this moment for the CenCom. One is a gift to you, to keep in your admirable archives."
"We thank you for your thoughtfulness," Smooth Hand said. "Your request is granted. Set them where they will catch all of this great moment."
"Well," Keff said, picking up the silver scriber the aide handed him. He tested it against his palm and found it sharp-edged enough to skim off a layer of skin. "This is it, Carialle."
"This is it," she agreed. "A moment for all the Central Worlds, and for us as well. Go for it, Sir Galahad."
"I do it all for you, Lady Fair." He grinned to himself and nodded to the senior councillor.
Smooth Hand looked out across the sea of faces. "All of you bear witness to this moment, in which we find we are not alone in this great galaxy, but among friends." He took his scriber and incised his name in the left-hand block on both blocks of wood. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. He signalled to Keff, who stepped forward and bowed over the first of the documents.
"Hold it," Carialle's voice said sharply in his ear. "Don't do it."
Keff stopped, arrested with his hand centimeters above the wood. "Why not? What's wrong, Carialle?"
"What is it?" Smooth Hand asked, seeing the human's mouth moving almost silently. "Is something wrong?"
"Cari?"
Her voice in his ear was as crisp and sharp as an artificial-intelligence generated construct. "Don't sign a thing. The entire deal is on hold. I have just received a message back from the CenCom. There's a ship at the perimeter of this system, and they are here to take over negotiations. We are off this mission as of now!"
"What?" Keff demanded. "They can't do that!"
"They can, and have! The CenCom sends its compliments, but we are ordered to step back to avoid any 'unforeseen difficulties.' It's the Inspector General's doing. I am so mad that I could just flame out!"
Keff didn't like the edge in her voice. "Try and stay calm, Lady Fair. I'll get out of here and come to you. We'll discuss this." He looked up at the crowd, who were fluttering surreptitious messages at one another, and at Smooth Hand, clearly wondering what was going on. Swallowing his concern for Carialle, he forced a smile to his lips. He hoped his growing command of the Cridi language would sufficiently support him through this delicate moment.
"Gentle-males and gentle-females, I sincerely beg your pardon," he said, setting down the scriber. A few in the audience gasped at his action, and he made a gesture intended to show humility. "I have just been informed that, er, that diplomats senior to Carialle and myself have just arrived in your star system. This is such an important matter that they wish to take part in this ceremony themselves. If you will forgive this terrible breach of manners, may I beg a short delay until they may join us?"
Smooth Hand's face, compressed into a frown of concern, opened up in comprehension. "Ah!" he squeaked. "I see. With the greatest of reluctance, friend Keff, I see no reason why not to allow. We know and trust you, but we understand the pressures of state."
There was a general murmur, only partly of agreement, from the rest of the council. Keff heard undertones of distrust and dismay beneath it. Big Voice scowled and crossed his arms as if to say he'd assumed all along the humans would back away at the last minute.
"Thank you, Councillor Smooth Hand, and all the rest of the conclave, gentle-females and gentle-males. I must go and prepare for the arrival of our senior delegates. I… we'll be back as soon as we can. If you will excuse me?" He barely waited for the council to signal their assent before he was running up the aisles in a crouch.