Description: 1 Home again. But not, immediately, to the Bujavid''s third-floor residency. Tabini-aiji had sent a request to the Bujavid''s train station, hand-delivered by Assassins'' Guild, to meet with him in his downstairs office...uncommon venue, but likewise safe from eavesdropping, even from servant staff. And from immediate family. Which, in the situation they had in the world, might be a needful consideration. Such considerations applied, even in the narrow confines of the lift car that rose from the underground train station. Bren Cameron, paidhi-aiji, translator, diplomat--and carrying, in a document case, the outcome of an encounter that still had the world anxious and unsettled--also carried a secret. His four atevi bodyguards, Guild themselves--black-skinned and golden- eyed, head and shoulders taller than most humans--all knew it. The aiji-dowager, Ilisidi, diminutive for an ateva, armed with a cane that lent stability to aged bones in the long, rapid rise--she knew the gist of it. So did her two bodyguards. The third of their company, Cajeiri, aged fortunate nine years, Tabini-aiji''s son, did not. His bodyguard, Guild, but still in their teens, did not, and Bren had been extremely careful to keep it that way. Three hours back on Earth and they were all still suffering, to varying degrees, the effects of the express shuttle flight from the station. The lift stopped, opened doors on the ornate lower floor with its travertine columns, its plinths with ornate porcelains and its tapestries and hand-loomed carpet runners. This corridor, this area, was at a T intersection with the main entry hall, the public areas, the audience chamber, the public museum and state library, the office of records--places where the public went. This hallway--no. A black velvet rope on four gilt stanchions provided a gentle security. Two black-clad members of the Guild stood there, armed, a less gentle reminder that, no, these were not public lifts, and the upper and lower floors were not on the tour. Bren and company crossed the hall. The guards at the office doors, Tabini''s own--on loan from his grandmother the aiji-dowager herself, in point of fact--opened the doors without a word exchanged. The three of them entered. All the bodyguards but the dowager''s two, Cenedi and Nawari, remained outside; and Bren walked hindmost--mere court official here, if not in the heavens. Tabini sat at his desk, isolate in a very large office, a place of towering windows, immense tapestries, carpet far more ancient than that bearing traffic outside. There were chairs, felicitous three. Cenedi arranged the endmost for Ilisidi, would have taken her cane, but she retained possession of it, and Cenedi and Nawari withdrew from the room entirely. Tabini turned his chair to face them as Cajeiri settled into the chair beside his great-grandmother, and Bren sat down...feeling a little plainly dressed for the executive office, for the aiji of the majority of the world--very little cuff and collar lace, which tended to float in lack of gravity, plain coat and trousers, a ribbon that might be a little askew: Bren''s bodyguard had re-tied it on the train. "Grandmother," Tabini said. "Son of mine. Paidhi." That was the greeting, for three who''d just come from the heavens, with a document guaranteeing the world''s survival, at least as regarded the kyo presence up there. It was not want of concern. Concern was evident if one read atevi, and Bren did. Half-rising, he laid the all-important document case on Tabini''s desk. "One worried," Tabini said then, "regarding the weather." Ilisidi waved her hand, dismissive. "It would not dare storm. We were assured we would land well ahead of the front. As we did. The pilots were quite confident, or we might have stayed circling the world indefinitely, we were assured. Read the document, grandson. It took considerable effort to obtain it." "Not only among the kyo, as one hears," Tabini said, making no such move. "One trusts they are departing." "Far more rapidly than they arrived, aiji-ma," Bren said. "Without further communication." "Without a word," Bren said. "And Gin-nandi is now in charge," Tabini said, "of both Mospheiran and Reunioner folk up there." "Yes, honored Father," Cajeiri said. "Gin-nandi will request atevi assistance to land the Reunioners." "Yes, aiji-ma," Bren said. "They have not fared well on the station. There are security issues." "One understands that the Presidenta of Mospheira considers them all his people. But that we will receive a request to transport numbers of Reunioners on atevi shuttles. Have we seals on that?" "We shall have," Bren said. "Likewise we shall have requests for landing zones for parachuted capsules." "Not bearing Reunioners." "No, aiji-ma. Only cargo displaced from the shuttles. This was Gin-nandi''s idea, and it will move that population to safety without a shuttle-building campaign." "The Presidenta is not about to suggest that we subsidize settlement for these people." "He will hope only for your cooperation in the program. They are a human problem." "You have the children and their parents lodged with Lord Geigi. It is your intention to land them on the next shuttle flight...an earnest of things to come." "A pleasant, an innocent face on the undertaking, aiji-ma-- representative of most of these people. They have suffered very heavy losses--in the kyo assault on Reunion, few households were left intact. The kyo themselves regret the attack. They have expressed that. They misinterpreted the presence of the colony. They have expressed sorrow at the situation, and they have absolutely no inclination to do harm to atevi or to Mospheirans or the Reunioners. This document is a resolution of disengagement, with the provision that, should we wish to contact them peacefully, there is an appointed place and procedure." Tabini nodded. "At Reunion. Which they will retain." "They are doubtless sifting it for every morsel of information they can gain from it," Ilisidi remarked dryly, "and since we have accorded humans an island to live on and half a station orbiting over our heads, we have some interest in their interest, but we have observed the kyo representatives, and we find them reasonable folk." "One was Prakuyo''s son," Cajeiri said. "And we talked, honored Father. We spent a lot of time talking. I, myself. And their security played chess with mani." "One can only imagine," Tabini said, equally dryly, while the document case lay untouched on his desk. "Chess, was it?" "A very interesting opponent," Ilisidi said. "I shall play you a round, grandson, using his style." One had absolutely no doubt that that would be an interesting game...and no game, but a distillation of observations that didn''t fit neatly in the vocabulary they''d collected. Bren had his own set of notes he''d taken since, and on the way down--to preserve the immediacy of the information. Likely no one else could read those, either: circles, diagrams, arrows, and lines of relationship and relevance: non-words that had no equivalent in the languages he dealt with, words that might combine concepts humans and atevi didn''t see as related, and that he had to commit to more readable notes. It was an architecture atevi might have to deal with--someday. Not soon, however. The document in that case saw to that. And left him questioning his own sense of right and wrong. "I shall look forward to it," Tabini said, "once we have resolved the lingering problems, such as onto whose land Lord Geigi proposes to drop the equivalent of rail cars from the heavens, and how we shall secure the safety of these children Lord Geigi has as guests." "We might bring them and their parents down on our shuttle," Cajeiri said, "and they might be at Najida, honored Father, at least until there is a place for them." "No," Tabini said. "Honored Father--" "They are human. They are Reunioner. Someday, as we suspect, they will be of service to you, as nand'' Bren is to us. When you came back to us, you benefitted from atevi associations. You began to feel man''chi, you had the chance to form associations in a normal way..." "They have man''chi to me, honored Father." "Nand'' Bren may argue that they do not. They may have a profound sentiment, but a human sentiment, son of mine, which, since they are not adult, is still forming. They have lived in fear much of their lives, have been uprooted from their home, transported across space in less than comfortable circumstances, subjected to Tillington''s ill-run administration, entertained in great luxury on Earth and finally dropped into Lord Geigi''s household in the heavens--but they have never seen humans live as humans live on Mospheira. Now they will see all their people brought down to the world to become Mospheirans--yet one more experience in their young lives. You may ask nand'' Bren what his opinion is. But consider that you have the satisfaction of man''chi in this household. What connection does their birth fit them to feel? And should they not be given the chance to discover it, and should not the

Please Wait