“I suppose I ought to go ahead and talk to them. At least let them know we’re here.”

Roman nodded. He reached for the comm laser control; remembered just in time and keyed the radio instead. The Tampies had never developed the laser themselves, and had shown complete disinterest in acquiring the necessary technology from the Cordonale. “It’s all yours, Ambassador,” Roman said.

Pankau cleared his throat. “This is Ambassador Pankau, aboard the Cordonale Star Ship Dryden,” he called. “Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

The response was immediate; clearly, the Tampies had already noted the Dryden’s arrival. “I hear,” the alien voice replied.

The whiny, grating, set-the-teeth-on-edge alien voice. Roman clamped his teeth together hard, trying to remember that the Tampies didn’t do this on purpose.

“I am Ccist-paa; I speak for the Tamplissta,” the other continued. “I greet you.”

“And I you,” Pankau said, his tone and manner showing none of the reflex irritation Roman felt. But then, Pankau was far more used to putting up with Tampy voices. “I come with open hands and goodwill, and bring the Supreme Senate’s desire that our differences here be resolved as quickly as possible.” He hesitated, just the barest fraction of a second. “Can you tell me if there’s been any change in the situation in the past fifteen days?”

There was a hint of resentment in Pankau’s voice, a feeling Roman could well understand. Irritating voices and mannerisms were something professional diplomats learned to live with; lack of adequate and timely information was something else entirely. Running on the Mitsuushi for fifteen days, cut off from access to the Cordonale’s network of planet-based tachyon transceivers, everything the Dryden knew about the trouble on Arachne was two weeks out of date. The Tampy mission, in contrast, would have been in contact with their own colony here up until the time they’d had to leave their home port… which had probably been no more than a few hours ago.