"Tadpoles," said Francine.
The swimming shapes darted through orange shadows and into a space of cold green—then up to splash on the surface, and again down into the cool green. It was a choreographic swinging, lifting, dipping, swaying—lovely in its synchronized symmetry.
"Chiruru'uklia'a'agudav'iaá," said the Galactic. His body undulated like the movements of the swimming creatures. The green hands touched his thighs, slipped upward until elbows were level with shoulders.
"The maiden in the Oriental dance," said Francine.
Now, the hands came out, palms up, in a gesture curiously suggestive of giving. The Galactic said: "Pluainumiuri!" in a single burst of sound that fell on their ears like an explosion.
"It's like a distorted version of the ritual dances we've been watching," said Ohashi.
"I've a hunch," said Francine. "Feminine intuition. The repeated vowels: they could be an adverbial emphasis, like our word very. Where it says 'a-a-a' note the more intense gestures."
She followed another passage, nodding her head to the gestures. "Hiko, could this be a constructed language? Artificial?"
"The thought has occurred to me," said Ohashi.