"Now, how's that go?" he said out loud. "Hello. Please take me to your leader. 'Freihur, co nafri da an colaro, yaro.'"
"Relax, you've done it a dozen times," Carialle reassured him. "Hold on, they're scanning me." Keff frowned up at the ceiling.
"They are? I didn't think they had anything as sophisticated as scanners."
"I didn't say they were sophisticated scanners. It feels like elephants are walking on my hull," Carialle grumbled. She paused, and Keff heard a low hiss beyond the airlock hatch. "Just a moment-if the race we're about to face is hostile, why are they pumping a 90/10 nitrox mix into the airlock?"
"They're what?" Keff demanded.
"I swear it by my sainted motherboard," Carialle said. "Look for yourself." The monitor beside him lit up with a specroanalysis of comparative atmospheres. "You'll find the air fragrant, too. Plenty of plant esters."
"Perfume?" Keff felt his jaw drop, and yanked it closed again. "I have to speak to them. Open up." He hurried forward, helmet almost bumping the inner hatch. The door slid partway open, then halted.
Carialle's usually crisp voice was almost tentative. "Be careful, Sir Knight. I'd always rather you return with your shield, than on it."
"So would I, Lady Fair," he said, cheerfully, his voice echoing in his helmet. "But in this case I've got better armor than any dragon. Alert the Cridi to rev up their Core power, and let me go."
The airlock slid open onto a wide flexible tube filled with griffins as far as Keff could see. With one hand flat over his pounding heart, he bowed deeply to them. Two of the great beasts bustled forward, stopping about four paces away, and sat down on their haunches. The narrow clawed hands met under their squared chins in the same gesture of respect he'd seen in a thousand beamed conversations, then the great wings spread as far as they could in the confined space. Then, they waited.
Keff stepped forward, and copied their moves as nearly as he could. "'Freihur, co nafri da an colaro, yaro,'" he said.
"In good time, in good time," the lead griffin said, its upper lip splitting to show the gleaming white fangs beneath. "You are most welcome. Are you in need of refueling? Supplies?"
"Uh… no," Keff said, gawking at the being. "Welcome?" His hands were seized and shaken by all the griffins who could reach him. Wings, claws, and faces flashed by him in a blur. "Carialle, did they… did they…?"
"… speak Standard?" Carialle finished his question. "They sure did. With a respectable accent, too. How in the black hole did they learn it? When? Who from?"
"I don't know! How…?"
"We are so glad to see you, great human," the second griffin said, offering another namaste. "This is a great honor. Never before has one of yours landed in our place."
"Where do they usually land?" Keff asked automatically, struggling to make sense of the situation. "Humans! You know other humans! How? Why-when?" His mental drives were overloaded with the new influx of knowledge. "I never saw any communications with humans in your transmissions." But his greeters did not have a chance to answer. A host of smaller griffins pushed past or sailed over the full-sized beasts, and clustered around him.
"Greetings!" they said, in flutelike voices. "Where do you come from?" "What is this for?"
"This doesn't sound like all the humans they've encountered were captives," Carialle said, pitching her voice low to be heard. "It sounds perhaps as if they were… collaborators?"
"Don't jump to any conclusions, Cari."
"I won't, but it sounds pretty suspicious to me," she said.
Keff spoke over the head of the youngsters surrounding him to the adults beyond. "You know humans?"
The leader's lip split again. The expression was clearly the griffin version of a smile.
"Of course, sacred one. You are but testing me. I know of the Melange."
"Sacred ones?" Keff asked.
"The Melange?" Carialle asked, in Keff's ear. He waved a hand in front of the camera eye for silence so he could concentrate on what the lead griffin was saying. "Who? I have no entry for any such name in my database."
"What is Melange?" Keff asked. The leader gave him a puzzled glance that narrowed the center stripe in his large eyes.
"The Melange," the second one repeated, as if no explanation was really needed.
"But…?"
"What are you called, human male-man?" one of the children demanded, tugging at his arm. When he looked down, it drew back, giggling at its own boldness.
"My name is Keff," he said, bending down to look into their faces. In spite of their size, and their weight, which must have been around fifty kilos each, they were like any children galaxy-wide: curious, friendly, bold and shy at the same time, and irresistibly cute. They romped around him on all fours.
"And what does 'Keff' describe?" asked another youngster, pushing in close. Its upper lip opened to show the nares, and it sniffed his hands and knees.
"Me," Keff said, tapping his chest. A couple of the children grabbed his hand with their wingclaws to examine his gauntlet. They exclaimed over the transparent material, running delicate talon-tips up and down his palm. "I, uh, Keff comes from Kefyn, an ancient name of my people."
"Poara, vno!" One of the youngsters had discovered the IT on Keff's chest, and pulled it down for a closer look.
"Uh, please don't touch that," Keff said, pulling his hands free and retaking prossession of IT from the enthusiastic fledglings.
"Vidoro, eha," another child said, and giggled, creeping around behind Keff to feel his clear plastic suit. Keff prided himself on his physical prowess, but these children were effortlessly stronger than he. They butted into his knees, patted his waist and chest. Their affectionate, curious touches had the power of a body blow.
"Kids, please, enough," he said, holding up his hands as he felt for a wall to brace himself against. The floor bobbed up and down under his feet, and he grabbed for the edge of the airlock. One of the children rose up on hind legs to get a good look at the tubes running from the back of his helmet into his suit, and Keff overbalanced completely. Flailing for a handhold, he toppled toward the adults. The first griffin grabbed his arms in both of its strong claw hands and set him upright.
"Forgive, sir-madam," the creature said. "My child is bad-mannered."
"It's sir," Keff said. "He-she?-didn't mean any harm."
"Are you all right?" Carialle's voice erupted in his ear. "Your heart is running the three-minute mile."
"I'm fine, Cari," Keff assured her in an undertone. The children, restrained from physical contact by their parents, were bombarding him with questions.
"Do you wish food, human sir? Good food, at the canteen. Human coo-orn, human broccocoli, human meeeat. All good!"
"Uh, maybe later," Keff said. "Tell me about these humans."
"But, sir, you are a human."
"They are rather charming," Carialle said, "and I don't want to like them. Not yet."
"I know what you mean," Keff said. "If they're involved in piracy, they must be the most cold-blooded…"
"What did you say?" One of the youngsters pricked up its fluffy ears. Keff cursed. These beings must have very sharp hearing. "Who are you talking to?"
"To my friend," Keff said, tapping the IT unit. At least they couldn't hear Carialle. "I am asking her questions."
"Who is your friend?" "Can we meet her?" "Your ship is so pretty. Can I go in?" "Ask us questions. We know answers!"
"Excuse me," Keff said, holding up a forefinger to stem the flood, and addressed himself to the first adult. "What is your name, please?"