Free Convergent Series by Charles Sheffield

to a Cecropian, any being that did not give off the right pheromones did not exist as a communicating being. They could "see" them all right, but they did not feel them. Those nonentities included all humans. Darya knew that early contacts between Cecropians and humans had been totally unproductive until the Cecropians had produced from within their federation a species with both the capability for speech and the power to produce and sense pheromones.
    She pointed to the other creature, which had disconcertingly swiveled its yellow eyes so that one was looking at her and one at the Cecropian, Atvar H'sial. "And who are you?"
    There was a long, puzzling silence. Finally the small mouth with its long whiskers of sensing antennas opened again.
    "The name of the interpreter is J'merlia. He is of low intelligence and plays no part in this meeting. Please ignore his presence. It is Atvar H'sial who wishes to speak with you, Darya Lang. I seek discussion concerning the planet of Quake."
    Apparently Atvar H'sial used the other in the same way as the richer worlds of the Alliance employed service robots. But it would require a very complex robot to perform the translation trick that J'merlia was doing—more sophisticated than any robot that Darya had heard of, except for those on Earth itself.
    "What about Quake?"
    The Cecropian crouched lower, placing its two forelegs on the ground so that the blind head was no more than four feet from Darya. Thank God it doesn't have fangs or mandibles, Darya thought, or I couldn't take this.
    "Atvar H'sial is a specialist in two fields," J'merlia said. "In life-forms adapting to live with extreme environmental stress, and also in the Artificers—the vanished race whom humans choose to call the Builders. We arrived on Opal only a few short time units ago. Long since we sent request for permission to visit Quake near to Summertide. That permission had not yet been granted, but at Opal Spaceport we spoke to a human person who told that you plan to go to Quake also. Is this true?"
    "Well, it's not quite true. I want to go to Quake." Darya hesitated. "And I want to be there close to Summertide. But how did you find me?"
    "It was simple. We followed the emergency locator on your car."
    Not that, Darya thought. I mean, how did you know that I even existed ?
    But the Cecropian was continuing. "Tell us, Darya Lang. Can you arrange permission for Atvar H'sial's visit to Quake also?"
    Was Darya's meaning being lost in translation? "You don't understand. I certainly want to visit Quake. But I don't have any control of the permits to go there. That's in the hands of two menwho are on Quake at the moment, assessing conditions."
    There was a brief glint of Mandel through the cloud layers. Atvar H'sial reflexively spread wide her black wing cases, revealing four delicate vestigial wings marked by red and white elongated eyespots. It was those markings, the ruffled neck, and the phenomenal sensitivity to airborne chemicals that had led the zoologist examining the first specimens to dub them fancifully "Cecropians"—though they had no more in common with Earth's cecropia moth than with any other Terran species. Darya knew that they were not even insects, though they did share with them an external skeleton, an arthropod structure, and a metamorphosis from early to adult life-stage.
    The dark wings vibrated slowly. Atvar H'sial seemed lost in the sensual pleasure of warmth. There were a few seconds of silence, until the cloud gap closed and J'merlia said, "But men are males. You control them, do you not?"
    "I do not control them. Not at all."
    Darya wondered again about the accuracy with which she and Atvar H'sial were receiving each other's messages. The conversion process sounded as though it could never work, moving from sounds to chemical messengers and back through an alien intermediary who probably lacked a common cultural data base with either party. And she and Atvar H'sial also lacked common cultural