And then where would he go if he did get out? He could hardly get aboard the shuttle in secret, and they would only send him back when they caught him. If he went anywhere in the whole wide world, they would send him back to his father.
He treasured those three letters, as his most precious things in the whole world.
Soc with mani-ma in residencec maybe he would have no better luck with letters, though he would certainly tell her he suspected connivance against him! But one of two fairly good things could happen with mani: mani-ma could settle in to stay with them and perhaps coddle him a littlec or his father and mother could take a vacation at Taiben, and even if they took him away with them, he would have that. Neither was too bad.
So, foreseeing the need for a good appearance, he became a model of good behavior. He dressed, with Jegari’s help, in his finest, with lace at cuffs and collar. Jegari braided his queue and tied on the red-and-black ribbons of the aiji’s house, and he waited, pacing, until Jegari and his sister Antaro had gotten each other into their best—very little lace, since they were Taibeni, foresters, but very fine leather coats and immaculate brown twill for the rest: mani could not possibly find fault with them.
“I want to talk to mani before she goes into the dining room, nadiin-ji,” Cajeiri said. “We need to put her in a good mood toward us.”
“Yes,” Antaro said, and, “Yes,” Jegari said. So they left the room, not escaping the attendance of his assigned grown-up bodyguard—and headed down the hall toward the drawing room.
He saw Cenedi, silver-haired Cenedi, mani’s bodyguard and chief of staff, resplendent in his formal uniform, and immediately next to him he saw mani herself, small, erect, and absolutely impeccable, walking with her cane, tap, tap, tap, toward the dining room.
He lengthened his stride to intercept mani and Cenedi, and met them with a little bow, exactly proper.
“Mani-ma! Welcome! One is very glad!”
“Well, well.” The aiji-dowager—Ilisidi was her name—rested both hands on the formidable cane and looked him up and down, making him wonder if somehow his collar was askew or he had gotten a spot on his coat. His heart beat high. No. He was sure he had no fault. Mani looked at everybody that way, dissecting them as she went. “We see some improvement.”
Another bow. “One is gratified, mani-ma. One has studied ever so hard.”
And a reciprocal scrutiny. “My great-grandson is availing himself of my library.”
“Indeed, mani-ma. I am reading, especially the machimi.”
“Well, well, an improvement there, as well.”
“You will teach me now! You know so much more than the tutors!”
“Flattery, flattery.”
“Truth, mani!”
“Well, but we will not be at hand to tutor you, Great-grandson. We are here only for the night, then back to Malguri.”
His heart sank. Malguri was mani’s own district, clear across the continent, a mountain fortress. He had been there.
And it was an alternative—if he could go there. There were mecheiti to ride. Rocks to climb. “I could come there, mani. Take me with you! I learn far less with the tutor than with you andCenedi!”
Did she soften, ever so little? She hesitated a few heartbeats: he saw it in her eyes. Then: “Impossible. You are here to become acquainted with your father. You are here to learn the arts of governance.”
“But I have!” He lapsed into the children’s language, realized it, and amended himself, in proper Ragi. “Mani, one has improved entirely.” He saw his grand chances slipping away from him and snatched after something more reasonable. “A few weeks, mani. One would wish to visit you in Malguri for only a few weeks, and then go back to lessons. Surely you could persuade my father.”
“No,” mani said regretfully. “No, boy. We have had our time, in two years on the ship. Now you have to learn from your father.”
“Then stay here, please! This is a big apartment!”
“Not big enough,” Ilisidi said. “Not large enough for your father’s staff and mine, not large enough to keep us from arguments, and your father has enough to do in the upcoming legislature.”
“And he will be busy, and have no time for me!”
“Language, boy.”
“He will be busy, mani, and I shall be obliged to stay to my tutor. Even nand’ Bren has gone away to his estate. I shall have no supervision and you know I should have!”
“Your great-uncle will be here.”
That was the grimmest prospect of all, but he kept that behind his teeth and simply bowed acknowledgment of the fact. “But one will miss your society, mani. One could learn so muchc of manners, and protocols, and historyc”
“Well, well, but not at Malguri, I regret to say, where I must be, and you must be here, boy, you simply must. Come, let us go to dinner; and then we will say our good-byes tonight. Weather is moving in from the west, and we shall be leaving before dawn tomorrow, at an hour much before a young boy will find it convenient, quite certainly.”
“One will get up to say good-bye, all the same.”
“Oh, by no means,” Great-grandmother said, and tapped the cane on the floor, rap-tap, a punctuation to the conversation, as she started walking again, and so did Cenedi, and he was obliged to keep pace. “You will get your proper sleep and apply yourself profitably to your lessons. We shall be taking off before first light. We know, we know your situation. You must bear it.”
“Mani.” He was utterly downcast, but he had mani’s sympathy, and that was an asset never to waste. If he could not get one thing he wanted, he could try for another, and he had his choice: permission for a television in his room, which his father would probably forbid, or mani’s backing in the business of the letters to the space station—which was as important to him. “Mani, to my letters—which I wrote to the station—there has been no answer; and one almost suspects these letters are being held, which would be a reasonable consequence, mani, if one had not applied oneself to one’s studies, which one has done, very zealously! So if you could possibly, possibly ask my father about communications to the space station, and find out if Gene has even received my letter or if possibly—possibly there is some security question from the ship-aijiin, or maybe Gene has said something improper, or I have— It is so important, is it not, mani-ma, for me to understand these proprieties and maintain contact with my associates up above, and not to lose this advantage of association, when I am aiji? One cannot be offending these individuals. It would hardly be politic to offend them due to some foolish misperception!”
Tap went the cane, sharply. “Rascal.” She saw right through him. Clear as glass.
“Yes, mani. But—”
“Your argument is rational.”
A little hope. A little lessening of Great-grandmother’s frown. “One earnestly hopes to be rational, mani.”
“We shall think on it.”
“Yes, mani.” It was not the agreement he hoped for. He got pleasantness: he got warmth: but he did not get yes.
Still, with Great-grandmother, one did not sulk. One definitely did not sulk, nor allow an expression of discontent. Never let an opponent see into your thoughts, mani would say. And: Whatis that expression, boy?
Mani was more than hard to argue with. “Think on it” was as much as he was going to get if he kept after her for reasons, and mani would not be persuaded to stay. He would have Great-uncle down the hall, arguing with his father and trying to instruct the guards Great-uncle had set over him, and, worse, asking them when he breathed in and when he breathed out. He was not happy with the evening thus far.
But mani had taught him how to release his face from his unhappiness. One could be as angry as it was possible to be, and completely relax the face, even smilec he knew how to add that little touch, without giving away anything. He could do it with his father and his mother. But he did not try it with Great-grandmother, foreseeing a thwack to the ear—she was only as tall as he was, but she could manage it, being able, he had once thought, to read his mind. Not the case, of course: that was for the human dramas nand’ Bren had lent him; but read his actions, oh, indeed she did that, better than anyone.