"First," Juba interrupted, for here was her moment, "I ask one thing of you. Only that you radio incorrect coordinates back to your base. Say you have moved on, that this is a barren world."
"Let me talk to you first," he said. "I want to...."
"Please," Juba begged, moving toward him. "It is no loss to you. Only a small favor, to protect our planet from outsiders, in return for ... for whatever pleasures I can provide for you, or my sisters, if I do not please you."
"All right," he said, turning to his communication equipment. "If that's the only way you're going to let me speak to you."
"Your tape," Juba said. "Turn on your tape."
"Tape!"
"I do not speak New-language. I will have to have it translated."
The man looked at Juba hard and worked at the corner of his mouth with his tongue.
"All right," he said, flipping a switch. He turned to his equipment and spoke his strange language into it. It was rough and she liked it.