She opened the door. Tadrup stood outside. Kira recognized him from the particular pattern of stripes and spots in his fur, all of which combined to make the squat alien look as though he’d been covered with smiley faces.
Now that was off-putting.
“Tadrup, my apologies. I became so absorbed in the latest version of the negotiation agreement that—”
“It is of no consequence, Kira,” the Danzur said, holding up a fingered paw in a very human gesture. “We’ve realized we have to accept that you are not as dedicated to protocols as we are.”
Kira tried not to chuckle, despite Tadrup making not as dedicated to protocols sound synonymous with failure.
She gestured the Danzur in. “Well, I apologize anyway. If I schedule myself as being somewhere, then I should be there.”
“Yes, you should,” Tadrup replied. This time, his voice held no recrimination, he simply stated it as a fact. “But, as I said, it is of no consequence.”
Kira thanked him. “So what can I do for you today, Tadrup? I’m still reviewing the agreement and have yet to consult with Damien about it. But I believe we have until tomorrow to do that.”
“You do. Damien has already made it clear that you are still in the process of doing your review.”
Damien Forester was lead representative for Allied Stars diplomatic corps and titular head of the mission. In fact, Kira had been given the effective lead role, commanding the overall effort to get diplomatic relations established with the Danzur. Damien actually functioned in more of an advisory role. She knew that the man chafed at least a little under the arrangement, which had no doubt been the result of some power mongering back and forth between the military and civilian leadership. But he had to cosign anything negotiated with the aliens, which seemed to mollify any resentment—mostly, anyway.
“I am actually here with some good news,” Tadrup said.
“Oh?” Kira gestured at a chair—a Danzur one, crafted for their particular physiology—while she took a seat on something a human could actually find comfortable. “What sort of good news?”
“Your request for divulgence of our trade relationship with the Nyctus has finally been vetted and approved.”
Kira just stared. “Really?”
“You seem surprised, which is unusual, since you initiated the request yourself.”
“Well, yes. Or no, I’m not surprised at the request itself, but—approved? Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
Kira’s mind raced as though propelled by a lit fusion drive. They had put this particular request in to the Danzur just a few days after their arrival. Damien had suggested it, ostensibly so they could satisfy themselves that the Danzur weren’t engaged in selling or trading arms to the Nyctus. Citing Allied Stars diplomatic protocols as the reason was a clever ploy. The Danzur had immediately understood that all-important word, protocols, and accepted the request without any fuss.
The real purpose of the request, though, was to test the Danzur reaction to it, while also sending a signal that the humans knew they had some sort of ongoing commercial relationship with the squids. And that moment, that request, was why Kira had been considered so vital to this mission’s success. While Damien had talked, she’d eased her awareness outward, using barely a trickle of magic to empower the most subtle and least intrusive Joining she could manage.
It only gave her relatively superficial access to the Danzur thoughts, but it was enough to tell her that the aliens found the request an uncomfortable one. She’d nudged Tadrup’s mind a little harder, having already insinuated herself into it several times. There she had seen past discomfort into actual disapproval. Tadrup, she knew, intended to work against fulfilling the request. She couldn’t discern why without probing even deeper, and she hadn’t wanted to do that. She needed more time to become acquainted with the particular contours of Tadrup’s mind, the peculiar planes and curves and angles that characterized his thoughts. The better she knew those, the easier it was for her to tread among them unnoticed.
And that was fine, because his resistance was, in itself, useful information.
Discussing it afterward, Kira and Damien had both assumed the Danzur had something to hide. But here Tadrup was, with his good news.
“Well, that’s . . . wonderful news, Tadrup,” Kira said, then she kicked herself. She was no diplomat and was most definitely receiving some intense on-the-job training. But she’d done enough of the verbal and mental sparring that constituted diplomacy to know overt expressions of pleasure or disapproval were to be avoided. Unless such reactions were intended to be used to achieve some particular effect, the correct response would have been a polite but utterly neutral thank you, backed up with a bland smile. To allow an honest reaction was to give the Danzur a free view inside Kira’s mind.
“The Tribunal gave your request close consideration and determined that the disclosure was in both our best interests as our negotiations proceed.”
While Tadrup had been speaking, Kira had turned to look out the excessive viewport. At the same time, she extended a wisp of thought and brushed it through the Danzur’s mind. She sensed some misgivings, but—
More. There was an agenda deeper than this—of course, because as Kira had learned, no matter how deep a hidden agenda may be, there was always one even deeper. In order to discern what this mysterious agenda might be, though, she’d have to probe harder. That was something she could do while remaining undetected, but only by expending obvious effort.
She turned back. “You must extend our sincere appreciation to your Tribunal.”
“I will happily do so,” Tadrup replied. As he said it, he spit a dollop of saliva that splatted on the carpeted floor. Kira resisted a smile. The cultured tone of the Danzur was purely a product of the translator. Their actual speech seemed to consist mostly of guttural grunts, harsh growls, and the occasional menacing hiss. All of it tended to come out wet and sloppy—one of the most comically jarring things Kira had ever seen.
Tadrup gestured at her terminal. “You should find the response to your inquiry is already available, in fact.”
Kira crossed to the terminal to check for incoming documents and indeed found a new one. She opened and read it. It didn’t take long.
“Your sole export to the Nyctus is . . . a drug?”
“No, it’s a beverage, called krol.”
“It says here that krol has psychotropic effects,” Kira said.
“It does have certain medicinal properties, yes. They seem to be greatly favored by the Nyctus.” He held two hand-paw palms up for a moment, the Danzur version of a shrug. “We find it induces a mild euphoria but otherwise has little effect.” Tadrup bared his teeth in an intimidating way—a smile, apparently. It seemed, Kira thought, that everything the Danzur said or did appeared, to humans, as exactly the opposite of what was intended.
Not for the first time, Kira reflected that it was a good thing translators existed. If they hadn’t, she might see Tadrup as snarling, growling, and threatening to bite her instead of engaging in a calm discussion.
“Personally, I think krol tastes like—” He paused. “I’ve heard you use a word that seems appropriate here. I think it tastes like crap.”