Free Manta's Gift by Timothy Zahn

the tonal pattern sounded more varied to Qanskan ears than to the human equivalent. But now that he could focus his full attention on them, he was able to hear the core sounds that he'd been taught. He still had no idea what all the extra harmonics and other stuff meant, but for now he should be able to get by.
    Greetings to you, child of the humans, the Counselor was saying. I am Latranesto, Counselor of the Qanska. In the name of the Counselors, and the Leaders, and the Wise, I welcome you to our world.
    Okay, Raimey thought to himself. Step one completed: He'd understood what they were saying. Now came the tricky part: trying to talk back. The words he was supposed to say had been pre-chosen by his instructors back on Earth. It was up to him, though, to hear the alien tonal words in his head and then try to recreate them. "I greet—"
    He broke off, startled by the sounds that had emanated from somewhere in his throat and chest.
    Yes? Latranesto said. Please continue.
    Raimey took a deep breath, feeling the strange sensation of cool hydrogen gas whistling in along his new body's twin throats as he did so. Clearly, talking Qanskan was going to be a lot easier than anyone had expected, now that he had a set of genuine Qanskan vocal cords to work with. A hell of a lot easier, apparently, than relearning how to swim. "I greet you and your people, Counselor Latranesto," he started over. "I am honored in turn to be here."
    There was a ripple of a new sound, something like fingernails scratching on a piece of flat slate. A sound of respect or greeting? A ritual noise of greeting that they hadn't thought to mention to their human contacts up in Jupiter Prime?
    Or were they just laughing at his accent?
    You are welcome among us, Latranesto said. If I may remember in your presence, it has been a long time since my first meeting with your kind.
    Raimey frowned. Could this possibly be...?
    No, he realized. Latranesto couldn't possibly be the Qanska who had rescued Chippawa and Faraday and their crippled bathyscaph. That one had looked at least twice this size in the Skydiver's vid, probably even bigger. Besides, that had been twenty years ago. "I do not understand," he said, trying to match the other's tone and to pick up some of the nuances he was hearing. It would be nice if he was getting some of the words right, too. "When before have you met other humans?"
    When before have you met other humans, you mean to say, the big Qanska said.
    A correction, obviously. Only Raimey had no idea how the Counselor's version differed from his. So much for this communication stuff being easy. Salesman's cockiness, they'd called this in business school, and warned against it. The encounter was long ago, and very brief, Latranesto went on. I was the Baby who foolishly collided with the machine's cord.
    Ah—so that was it. He'd been the baby Qanska who had bounced off the Skydiver's tether line. "I see," he said.
    It was my fault that those humans inside neared death. Latranesto said. I left a taste of my blood on the cord, which was what drew the Vuuka to attack.
    Raimey looked over at Latranesto's fin. Only the Vuuka's tail flukes remained uncovered by the Qanska's spreading skin, and they had long since ceased to beat at the air.
    And Latranesto had a new surface lump for his already impressive collection. "So that was why it attacked you," he said. "A Qanska four times its size. It was attracted by your blood."
    By blood, and by movement, Latranesto said. That was what drew it to you. By movement and blood do Vuuka hunt.
    Raimey grimaced, remembering all that flailing around as he tried to get his new muscles to cooperate. "You could have said something," he said accusingly.
    Your words have no clear meaning.
    "I mean you should have warned us there would be a predator on my tail the minute I was born," Raimey said. "You should have had a Protector waiting, too."
    From one of the Qanska under Latranesto's wide belly came a noise that sounded