Thunderstorm looked remarkably like his mother, but with a broader head and wider feet that lent him an endearingly awkward gait. His coat had only begun to show flecks of white. His smile, when he saw Keff, was an echo of Noonday's sweet expression. Thunderstorm looked suddenly wary as he came closer, and realized he did not recognize Keff. But the evidence was clear: this being interacted frequently and closely with humans.
"We've found our connection, Cari," Keff muttered under his breath.
"A… stranger?" Thunderstorm asked, in very good Standard, attempting to show surprise. "Forgive, I am rude. Parent, to what do I owe the honor of your presence?" He sat back on his haunches and made the gesture of respect to Noonday. The elder returned it. When he raised his eyes, they were worried.
"My child, I come on the gravest of errands," the Sayas said. "This human has told me many things that in- imm-?" he looked up at Keff apologetically, "favrekina Thelerieya."
"Implicate, parent," Thunderstorm said, smoothly, but Keff saw his tailtip switch. He was nervous. "Implicate Thelerie in what?"
"Crimes against other races of feings," Noonday said, so agitated she was unable to keep the upper halves of his lip together to pronounce the "b" in "beings."
"But I beg an explanation," Thunderstorm said, turning his head, to avoid making eye contact with his mother or Keff. He knelt behind the sling and lifted his upper body across it. With his right claw hand, he picked up a pen and made a few marks on a sheet of paper. "Why come to me?"
"I am told you are the head of the Thelerie space program," Keff said. "Is that true?"
"It is," Thunderstorm said. "It is wrong to lie."
"Then my business is with you. I come on a matter of peace. I am not alone. Perhaps you may have heard?"
The younger Sayas looked uneasy. "I have heard rumors."
"I won't conceal anything from you," Keff said. "Allow me to introduce my friends."
The globes sailed one by one out of the side of the pavilion, where they had been waiting out of the hot sun. Thunderstorm's pupils nearly spread to the edges of his eyes, and he sat up on his haunches at bay, his wings batting.
"I cannot believe you would bring them here," he gabbled out, staring. "Parent, what have they done to you?"
"Nothing at all," Noonday said, refusing to let Thunderstorm distract her. "What do you know about them?" She lifted her eyelids warningly.
"I have encountered them," Thunderstorm said at last, his wings wavering. "When I served my apprenticeship with the Melange. They are evil beings."
"Not evil," Tall Eyebrow protested.
"By the temple, it can speak!"
"You didn't know, did you?" Keff asked, leaning across the stone desk. "You never saw one alive. Did you assist in the ambush and destruction of one of their spacecraft?"
A Thelerie might not lie, but evidently it would fight to keep from telling a harmful truth. Thunderstorm stared silently down at the pen in his hand.
"Child, speak," Noonday commanded, sounding like the entire brass section of an orchestra. It took some time before Thunderstorm could bring himself to open his mouth.
"You recall our first friend, parent? Verje Bisman?" Thunderstorm asked, in a very low voice. Noonday nodded, still watching him carefully. The younger Thelerie turned to Keff. "I was so young, and full of awe for the strangers. Before a formal arrangement had been made between our two peoples, I begged to have him take me in his ship. He apprenticed me and my friend Autumn. He seemed fascinated with the Center, though he could not find it himself, and called us great assets because we could. We flew with him for some years, going from place to place, accomplishing missions for his ship. We gathered things no one wanted, or received them from donors who bargained hard for their goods," Thunderstorm said, looking ashamed. "So I thought. I was naive. On the cusp of the nearest star, we caught a ship that my friend, Verje's child, Aldon, said contained the greatest prize of all, and the Slime would not yield it. We were young and on fire, so we stopped the ship and took it. It was a great battle, for the Slime seemed to have mystic power to attack us without touching us. We were very frightened, but in the end we prevailed."
"How long ago?" Carialle's voice demanded.
"How long ago?" Keff echoed.
"Forty-three Standard years," Thunderstorm said, without looking up. "I knew then we committed crimes. It was the greatest shame of my life."
"Then he wasn't on any ship that touched me," Carialle said. Keff felt some of the tightness in his chest relax, but he grieved for the Cridi, who were only now discovering the truth about their losses.
"The second of our ships," Narrow Leg said, his wide lips flat with disapproval. "Fifteen Cridi lost in that one."
"Why did you never tell?" Noonday asked.
"I had vowed obedience and silence to the Melange," Thunderstorm said, looking up at his parent. "And I knew shame. I begged to be involved in no more assaults, and the humans agreed. After that, I came home to found the space program, finding apprentices for the Melange to train in the art of maintaining and flying craft. They do learn everything they are taught!" he cried, his eyes darting between Keff's and Noonday's. "We are good pupils, and we consider the trust sacred. When we were told these," he gestured at the globes, "were enemies, we believed. We believed, because the humans were the fulfillers of our dearest dream! Those of us who finished with our apprenticeships never speak of it, but some of us know we have done wrong. That is why some have left the space program. I stay. I am weak." The Sayas hung his head. "I thought some day when our own ships were spaceworthy, I would go back and see who the Slime were. I was Centered. I knew how to find my way. And now I am too old, and possibly weaker still."
"I am disgraced. What punishment would you demand of this one?" Noonday asked, turning to Tall Eyebrow, who deferred at once to Big Eyes and Narrow Leg. Keff could see the pain in her eyes, but she faced the Cridi without wavering.
"Only weeks ago we might have demanded his life," Narrow Leg said, eyeing his daughter and Big Voice, who rolled forward, bursting to talk. "We want cooperation. Such raiding must stop. We want peace. We want friendship. At what point in our requirements of reparation would such things be impossible?"
"I am the Sayas," Noonday said. "And Sir Keff is of the fourlimbs of the legends. Though Thunderstorm is my child, his life is in my gift. I would prefer to withhold such a gift, if I can. But in the name of peace, we will do anything you ask. We can't keep back one life when you have lost so many."
The two councillors rolled away from the group, followed by Narrow Leg and Tall Eyebrow. Long Hand, glancing over, decided she'd better be part of the discussion, paddled her globe into the circle, leaving Small Spot by himself, staring up at the Thelerie.
"We, too, have recently reconciled with a deadly enemy," the Ozranian said. "I know what I would say about you, but it is not my decision."
Thunderstorm went down on his belly and folded his wing-hands under his chin to the younger Cridi. "I do not deserve the consideration," he said. "I understand my crime, and I have abetted others. Time does not dull my shame."
"What are they doing?" Noonday asked, watching the Cridi sign furiously among themselves. "Is it a ritual? Why do they not talk?"
"They are talking," Keff said, always happy to teach. "They speak both with their mouths and their hands." He spread his arms, palms outward. "This is the first word of theirs I ever learned. It means 'help.'"
"Perhaps we shall learn this tongue, too, child," Noonday said, miming the symbol with his wing-fingers. "It has grace."