How did he dare? he asked himself; and Chance and George Barrulin, the answer echoed out of the haunted basement of his suspicions, one of whom, Chance, was the demon in the design of the atevi universe and the other of whom, the President’s chief advisor, was the devil in the design of Mospheiran politics.
Neither of them was fit to be in charge of as many lives as they controlled.
But Tabini, he strongly believed, wasfit: fit by biological processes he couldn’t feel and political processes purely atevi.
To his continual wonderment, Tabini accepted what the paidhi did, double-questioned him on his choices, and threw his authority behind the concept of atevi rights in space, when human authority said atevi might be destroyed by the concept of microchips and nuclear energy.
What atevi did after they were up there in space, that was another matter.
He asked himself, on lonely nights, whether he’d live, himself, to see that ship fly. He could envision himself standing at the side of the runway. But in his imagination he never could see the ship. He’d become superstitious about that image in his mind, even gloomy and desperate, and he wasn’t ready to dig too deeply and learn what exactly his subconscious thought he was doing. He didn’t have a choice; he didn’t currently have a better idea, and what he was doing had to be done before the next stage of worrying.
He came down here when he was scared. As the interview had him scared. He faced that fact now. He’d had it easy in the provinces, on tour. He’d been traveling in the aiji’s plane, under the aiji’s guard, and everybody was glad to see him because he might bring trade and funds.
Here, in the Bu-javid, the predators gathered, and snarled and swarmed after scraps in ways that reminded him very uncomfortably of the situation back home.
He’d discussed it with Tabini.
Now a man was dead, who’d been part of the drive to take the power back to the provinces. It wasn’t just that Saigimi was a disagreeable man with bad numbers: it was that Saigimi was a peninsular lord who’d represented a policy and a movement that didn’t like the influence of the paidhi—that didn’t like the paidhi’s acquisition of this office, this prominence, this kind of loyalty. Or Tabini’s appetite for technology and power.
It was remotely possible that Saigimi had had a point. A rotten way of expressing it, but a point.
And that was one of those items that was going to be seething under the surface of the questions various news services wanted to ask him. The conference was supposed to be about the space program, which he desperately wanted to talk about. But atevi knew there was something very significant going on in the way the space program was being built, and in the way prosperity was being handed out to one lord and assassination used against another.
The answers whether it was a good or bad change in atevi affairs were in those baskets of letters—ordinary atevi expressing their opinions.
“There are a few items difficult of disposition, nand’ paidhi,” Nand’ Dasibi informed him. “One understands there was an untoward incident in the skies on your return. Might one inquire, will the paidhi wish this incident acknowledged if the public inquires?”
“The matter,” Banichi said, his shadow as he had walked through the room, among the desks, and now as they stopped at the head of it, “is still under staff investigation. It was minor.”
“Say,” Bren added, “that I was not hurt and never alarmed. The skill of the aiji’s pilots prevented harm. It underscores the importance of pilots observing air traffic control regulations and filing flight plans… and so forth. You know my opinions on that.”
“One does, yes, nand’ paidhi.”
“There will also be an announcement shortly of a tour of the residence by lord Tatiseigi.”
Brows went up. Dasibi said not a thing.
“I’m sure,” Bren said quietly, “that there’ll be inquiries, and the event will not be open to the public. Don’t comment on the situation in the peninsula unless it’s cleared through the aiji’s staff. The official answer and the real one is that I had a successful tour, enjoyed fine hospitality, and was never threatened by the events to the south. I will forewarn you however that one should not schedule very many staff leaves of absence during the next week or so.”
“We do hope nothing is amiss.”
“One likewise hopes, nand’ Dasibi. Very sadly, one member of my household has received bad news from the ship.” Short guess who thatwas. “A death in his family. But he knew his choice to come down here to serve would separate him from his family as well as his people. Please limit public questions on this matter and assure inquirers that the ship-paidhi is a young man of great courage and resolve who shares my purpose in seeing the atevi ship built.”
“One will do so, nand’ paidhi. Please convey to him our good will.”
“With all appreciation, nadi.”
“There is—another message from lord Caratho. With maps.”
Lord Caratho saw no reason if Geigi was prospering why a space industry plant couldn’t be built in his district. That was the crux of the matter.
The problem was, neither did numerous other lords see why they shouldn’t have the same advantage. Caratho, and four others, had inundated the Economic Commission’s office with figures and proposals. But Caratho alone figured, since various regular channels had turned him down, to deluge the paidhi’s staff with maps and reports promoting such a plant.
Oh, damn, was the thought. Here it comes.
“If the paidhi will allow me to frame a reply,” Dasibi said, “I believe I can create a list of honored supporters of the space program which one might send to the aiji for his information, a list which others may wish to join and include among their honors—providing a disposition for all these reports and offers of resources to the effort. I have consulted the aiji’s staff and they concur. Meanwhile—lord Caratho has no need of such a plant, in the determination of the Economic Commission. He has ample revenues. He has fourteen hundred and fifty-four persons he’s had to write onto his staff because of unemployment in the district, which is not unusual for a lord of his wealth, and these are persons who used to be employed in railway construction, when the spur was being built. Let me apply finesse, if you will trust my discretion.”
Finesse was the same word Banichi would use—biichi’ji—in a strike without side damage.
“I have all confidence in you, Dasibi-ji. Please do what you can. I am notconcerned so much for lord Caratho, but by the persons unemployed. Find out the history on that, via the staff, if you can.”
“Taking a little liberty, nandi, I have, and they are persons who would not be employed by the plant he proposes.”
“Ah. He’s seeking to diminish his obligations.”
“One believes he is collectingthem into his employ, nand’ paidhi, particularly to present appearances and make those rolls larger. I am concerned, nand’ paidhi, that he may have done so with disregard of the welfare of the individuals he claims as dependents.”
“Do you, nandi, believe this is a situation to pass to the aiji’s staff?”
“I would say so, nand’ paidhi.” This last the old man offered with downcast eyes and some trepidation: he was accusing a lord in the reach of a person of rank sufficient to do him harm.
“I would concur,” Banichi said in a low voice, and the old man looked much happier. “And I know the rascal’s reputation: you will not surprise the aiji, nadi.”
“One is very glad to think so.” The old man let go a heavy breath. “And there are two messages from one Rejiri, the son of the lord of Dur, wishing your good will. We have no idea why he sent twice—he mentions a meeting. We are unaware of any meeting with him on your schedule, nand’ paidhi.”