An admirable addition to the Library’s category Sapientia, smart aliens, yes. But she reminded herself that Earthly birds’ sexual organs shrivel outside their reproductive times, a process called involuting. But these aren’t birds, they’re aliens. Librarians must scrupulously avoid category errors….

The flock descended with high, barking cries and fluttering tail feathers. All the Ythri fanned their magnificent six-meter wings and landed with a final, artful pause before alighting. She consoled herself with how clumsy they were on ground. Slow and awkward afoot, shorter than Rachel, yet Fraq’s head had a regal air. The ivory crest riff helped, looking like the defiant ridge of an ancient Roman helmet. Plus, it rippled with colors as feathers danced.

Still, up close and walking, she could see that Fraq’s imposing body was mostly feathers and his wing-arms had light, hollow bones. The Ythri had spidery, kitelike skeletons anchoring thin flesh. Fraq stood out with his elegant muscles and tawny feather-coat, ruffling from his smooth flight. The flying captain of a starship…

Earth birds had long ago lightened their burden, permitting a little more brain, by changing jaws to beaks. Not the Ythris. They sported the jaws and sharp teeth of dominant predators. They feared nothing. And they had come across the light-years through the wormhole humans still did not formally know of. Earther diplomats had demanded that Librarians not mention the subject—but keep their ears cocked for clues, yes.

“Thank you,” Rachel said as Fraq approached with his lurching gait. “I might have recovered in time—”

“You not. Still I admired your daring.”

“I haven’t tried this void before, don’t know its currents.”

“Dirts know not the airs, it sings not in their bones,” Fraq said, golden eyes so intense she felt their pressure like a force.

Dirts meant ground-dwellers, yes. The new translation software was so fast and able she could sense no pause between the movements of his still bloodrich red lips and the voice that sounded in her ear. Of course it came to her electromagnetically, swamping the Ythri words that swam though the air like slippery song.

“We thank you for saving our assistant,” Prefect Masoul said in a calm, mild tone at her elbow. “Now may we proceed?”

“We grant substance,” Fraq said, his wings held back so he could make something that reminded her of a bow. But he bowed to her, not to the Prefect, whose face tightened. The other Ythris made the same abrupt bowing gesture, head crests nodding, and formed a crescent behind Fraq. So this had worked after all. Early on, the Ythri had made it clear that those who could not fly were subspecies, unworthy. So it had fallen to Rachel to prove humans at least a bit commendable. She smiled; Earthers would of course not be such. So negotiations would have to come through Luna. Few seemed to realize this, as yet.

She nodded as the Prefect said ponderously, irked, “In truth, surely. Let us unfold our stories and… negotiate.”