happened. Then the statue collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut. Slump, thud. The spores from the image quickly spread themselves out on the ground, joining the carpet of moss already there. A second later, all sign of my look-alike had vanished.
"Have you made contact with the Balrog?" Li asked over the comm link.
"Yes. But it didn't want to talk to me."
"Of course not. This is a job for diplomats. Set up the relay."
I refrained from mentioning that Explorers are trained in diplomacy, just as we're trained in planetary science, crisis management, and down-'n'-dirty survival. In fact, we received more formal training in diplomacy than the navy's Diplomatic Corps. It was an essential part of our jobs. After all, who got sent on First Contact missions? Who might encounter extraterrestrials at any time, and whose initial actions would set the course for future human-alien relations? The Explorer Corps. Diplomats didn't talk to anyone till Explorers broke the ice.
Which was what I was doing in Zoonau. Gauging the Balrog's mood. And since it didn't immediately want to eat me—nearby spores kept their distance from my feet—the situation seemed safe enough that I could turn the parlay over to Li and Ubatu.
As I worked to deploy the relay—just a small black box on a chest-high tripod—I paused now and then to examine my surroundings. Moss covered everything like spray-foam insulation. Undifferentiated red coated every surface as far as the eye could see. Streets. Buildings. Rope walkways. Even the atmosphere was tinted red: the only light was the dusky crimson that filtered through the moss-clotted dome, plus the dim streetlamps just visible beneath masses of spores.
No Cashlings moved anywhere in sight. I assumed they'd run for cover into buildings. That raised the question of whether the Balrog would pursue them inside, or whether the moss would be content to remain in the street. If this attack on Zoonau was just a way to get Pistachio's attention, the Balrog had already succeeded. Therefore, it had no need to bash its way into Cashling homes. On the other hand, the Balrog reportedly enjoyed terrifying lesser creatures... like putting that statue of me precisely where I'd be startled to maximum effect. If the Balrog liked such cheap scare tactics, it might invade Cashling homes just to hear them squeal.
You demon, I mouthed again.
"Are you finished?" Li shouted in my ear.
"Yes, Ambassador." I turned the activation dial on the relay. Immediately, life-sized hologram images of Li and Ubatu appeared on either side of me, projected by the relay's black box. The images turned their heads back and forth, as if scanning the city... which is exactly what they were doing. Just as the relay projected images of the diplomats onto the streets of the city, it sent images of Zoonau back to Li and Ubatu—a two-way VR connection that would allow "face-to-face" negotiations while the diplomats remained safe in the shuttle.
"Good afternoon, Balrog," Li said, bowing toward the moss. The volume on his feed was now perfectly dulcet.
"Yes, good afternoon," said Ubatu. She knelt, head bowed, and pressed her palms together in front of her chest—much more obsequious behavior than I expected from a professional diplomat. The moss beneath her hologram knees made no effort to get out of the way. Spores avoided contact with real people, but apparently didn't bother to move for holos.
The diplomats began a prepackaged message of goodwill. While they talked, I looked down at my Bumbler. The blip showed that Tut was still running. Not as fast as before, but now he was traveling in a straight line. He must have clambered up into the network of ropes—they were the only straight thoroughfares in the city. It was perfectly possible Tut had hit the ropes just for the fun of swinging around like a monkey... but it was also possible he'd decided on a destination and was now taking the most direct route available.
That worried
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