“Different,” Sabin said.
“Translate, paidhiin-ji,” Ilisidi requested of them.
“Sabin-aiji remarks on a novel taste,” Bren said. And added: “Ship-folk are quite restricted in palate, aiji-ma. She is experimenting with new things, not unfavorably.”
A servant had to retrieve Cajeiri’s drink, and sailed it past him. Cajeiri dislodged an appetizer reaching for it, and accidentally fired the drink off at a tangent trying to recover the nudged globe.
“Gently, gently, young man,” Ilisidi said. “Haste only startles what you wish to catch. Stalk your desires. Don’t snatch.”
The servant had secured the escaped drink, and put it into Cajeiri’s hand.
“Yes, mani,” Cajeiri said.
“Learn, rascal!”
“I do, mani.”
“This is an exchange regarding the accident,” Bren murmured by way of translation. “The aiji’s son is, of course, inexperienced in zero-g.”
“Still no place for a teenager,” Sabin muttered, and Bren masked startlement. Now that he realized it, the ship had never seemed to connect this child to Damiri’s fairly recent pregnancy, and on evidence of size, Sabin clearly had not a clue that the boy was six, not sixteen.
“My definitive statement, among others,” Sabin said glumly. “But collective decision prevailed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Far too late to change that misperception, or to renegotiate personnel. They dared not let the captain find it out at this juncture.
“I trust,” Sabin said, “there’s a watch on this boy.”
“Yes, captain.”
“Let me add another statement to the first: no atevi wandering about outside this section without contacting the bridge for permission, until further notice, and this young fellow stays on this deck, period, under any circumstances.”
“Captain, I’ll happily relay that at the appropriate moment.”
“Now, sir.”
He tried to think whether to lie, or whether to proceed; but lying—had its own problems soon to appear. And things could only escalate. Ilisidi, at least, was calm. “Aiji-ma,” he said, “with personal apologies from the translator, the captain considers this urgent. She wishes us not to leave this section without direct contact with her, for a period of time that seems to be impermanent, one gathers until she’s more certain of us, and wishes you not to allow the heir to leave this section under any circumstances.”
“This ship-aiji is very persistently rude, is she not? I never detected this in you, Jase-aiji. It can’t be custom.”
“Aiji-ma,” Jase said, “this aiji is reputed for direct statement and attention to agriculture.”
“Business,” Bren interposed, and Jase blushed.
“To business,” Jase said. “Forgive me, aiji-ma.”
A waggle of fingers. Ilisidi had emptied three of the white globes—empty ones sailed off to be captured and whisked out of sight—and she sent the third away.
“We are not mentioning to the captain that Cajeiri is six,” Bren said. “She believes sixteen.”
“Sixteen?” Cajeiri crowed, delighted.
“Hush, rascal,” Ilisidi said.
“It’s a convenient misunderstanding,” Bren said, “saving argument. And there would be argument about his presence otherwise, in a dangerous place. Human custom is against it.”
“Do you hear?” Ilisidi said. “You must pretend ten more years, young scoundrel, to satisfy the ship-aiji’s expectations of your wisdom, your sense, and your self-restraint.”
“I think the ship-aiji will suspect me,” Cajeiri said sadly, and the Ragi-speakers could not but laugh a little.
“There’s a problem?” Sabin asked.
“The boy regrets his youth,” Bren said. “And amuses his elders. I should urge you, now, captain, in the very strongest terms, to delay further business discussion. We’re now approaching the heart of the meal, which atevi hold entirely sacred. Particularly should there be a meat course, which may, under these circumstances, be soup… be most respectful of it.”
“I don’t eat meat,” Sabin said.
Sabin was pushing. Hard. Deliberately. And the translator himself was losing patience.
“One will relay that, captain.—Aiji-ma, the ship-aiji reminds us of the customs of ship-dwellers, and requests all others enjoy the offering of the season, but she is unaccustomed, and requests exception.”
“One has indeed remembered this intelligence,” Ilisidi said lightly. “Advise our guest that the sole white globe will be an offering for her taste.” This, as servants glided forth and very deftly, very respectfully, placed globes before each of them—four light gold, veined with steam between the plastic and the globe walls; and one white globe, with cold condensation, which the servant placed before Sabin.
One… white globe.
Oh, my God, Bren thought, just this least, small apprehension.
“Aiji-ma,” he said, and received a short, swift gesture in reply.
Should he defy that warning? Should he dosomething? Could he betray Jase, among other considerations?
And should he open his mouth and have security opposed to security and the whole mission aborted and the whole ship-human/planetary association come crashing around their ears—with Tabini’s son and grandmother up here in the very heart of the ship?
He could keep his mouth shut, and trust Ilisidi to respect his honor, and play by the rules of the culture he’d devoted his life to preserving and advancing in good season—or he could assure a war.
He looked straight at Ilisidi, who looked straight at him, not smugly, but in sober intent.
“Not bad,” Sabin said, sampling the offering.
Sabin, whose bodyguard, outside, in the company of his own, likely included Jenrette.
“Jase-ji,” Bren said, resolved to tell Jase, knowing after all else he had been through with Jase, that frankness was the only safety. “One should be prepared. The ship-aiji has challenged the dowager. There will undoubtedly be adverse results.”
“Aiji-ma,” Jase said, not, Bren thought guiltily— nothaving twigged to the source of the hazard. “One wishes, however inexpertly, to advance the cause of my senior, who is not a wicked woman, and who is accustomed to give orders for the sanity of the ship…”
Safetyof the ship, but it was within reason: Bren forebore a distracting correction.
“If she has offended you, aiji-ma,” Jase said, “it was not intent to do so. Great respect for your authority has brought her at a very busy time.”
“We accept that. Let her give us the tape. Ask her.”
“Captain,” Jase said, on a deep, deep breath. “There would have been a tape record—covering the entry of personnel onto Reunion.”
“What’s that to do with anything?”
“The aiji would like to see that tape. It wouldbe in the log. Wouldn’t it?”
“What’s in the log or not is our business. When did this come up?”
And is Sabin wearing a wire? Bren asked himself, calmly taking a sip of an excellent cream soup. And is it feeding to someone with at least rudimentary knowledge of Ragi?
And are we in deep water already?
God, what ought I to do?
“It occurred to me,” Jase said, leaving Yolanda innocently out of it, “that if we had security aboard, electronics would have recorded that excursion aboard the station.”
Sabin had half-emptied the globe, and took a drink of vodka besides.
“And of course you went straight to your atevi friends with that theory.”
“Friends, captain, can’t apply with atevi. But I assure you they’d think of it for themselves once they familiarized themselves with the ship’s general practices, and it wouldn’t be good to have them think of it before we’d said, and it wouldn’t be good to spring a surprise on them after we’re out there.”
“So of course you spilled it on yourwatch.”
“My watch is my watch, captain, and when I’m on the bridge I do my job. This is the best thing to do.”