He sat by candlelight fully clothed and wrapped in a blanket from shoulders to feet, and with his hands tucked under his arms and his feet growing numb no matter the precautions. How general it was or whether Kroger was likewise suffering he had no idea. The silence without the air duct fans was eerie… one grew accustomed to that constant sound. The notion of air that no longer moved gave the place a tomblike feeling.
He wondered if Tabini had done what he urged and opened direct negotiations—such as the University on Mospheira could mediate, using more Bens and Kates—with Hampton Durant on the island. He hoped so. He hoped that by virtue of what he had sent down to the world that men of common sense could form a common purpose and not give the Guild what would damn them alclass="underline" if it was the xenophobes in charge of the Guild now, minds that truly didn’t want to deal with foreigners of any stamp, and they were determined to alienate the atevi before they took on aliens from far out in space, everything was in jeopardy. He’d made that clear to Tabini, and included a letter for Mospheira, and hoped Tom Lund had corroborated his report.
At times things seemed to be going very slowly to hell with his own position, and in the candlelit dark he asked himself whether he or any of his team might survive this, or whether fools were going to let this go on until the station was damaged, the ship remained unfueled, and the planet had to take its chances with whatever came, helpless to launch more than a shuttle.
He passed despair, achieved numb patience—and guilt for having drawn people he cared for into this mess. He reanalyzed the meeting he had had, when everything had gone too well, too fast, and wondered if he might have precipitated this reversal himself, simply because he was a negotiator and the captains weren’t. Perhaps, he thought, he had pushed the opposition into desperate measures.
It might have happened. It might be that he had driven the opposition to desperation, or encouraged Ramirez to an aggressive posture that proved his downfall… if that was what had happened.
“Mr. Cameron,” the intercom said, breaking its long silence. The lights stayed out.
He stayed seated. The intercom made several tries. He still stayed seated. If they were going to ask him if he had had enough, he wasn’t going to make it convenient for them.
The lights and air came back on within the hour. His security had kept their watch, and reported no movement in their area.
He found himself tempted to order a seizure of the adjacent rooms and main corridor, down to the next security door, in the theory the blackouts might be local, and that he might command an area more difficult for them. But he had no desire to provoke anything until the shuttle was back.
“Mr. Cameron,” the intercom nagged him. He refused to answer.
It went on intermittently for the next day. Narani and the servants ceased to regard the noise. He ceased his daily harassment of Cl, preferring to let the captains worry about the silence from his side.
“Mr. Cameron,” the intercom said finally. “ We know you hear us.”
He somewhat doubted they could guarantee that.
It interrupted his sleep during the night.
An alarm went off, flashing lights from the panel, a loud klaxon that sent them all from their beds.
Jago was in his, and he said, the two of them entangled beneath the sheets, “I honestly hope that’s real and they’re having a bad night.”
“I should go to security,” she said, and eased out of bed. She flung a robe about herself on the way out the door.
He lay and watched the ceiling in the flashing red light. The intercom said,
“Mr. Cameron. The captains are willing to meet with you now.”
That worried him. But he stayed in bed.
The section door opened and shut outside. Thatbrought him out of bed, wrapped in a sheet.
Banichi was back, and for an man who ordinarily suffered not a hair out of place, he looked exhausted.
“Bren-ji,” Banichi said. “One apologizes for the inconveniences.”
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Be carefulout there, nadi-ji, I earnestly request it.”
Banichi found that ruefully amusing. Jago, who had turned out with all but Algini, did not laugh, nor did the rest.
“We have lost contact with the lower level,” Banichi said then, not happy. “A number are cut off. I ask your leave, nandi, to deal with that.”
He felt a chill that was far more than his bare feet on the cold floor. This one went to the gut and advised him what Banichi was asking, political permission for lethal force.
“I don’t know enough to decide, Banichi. Advise me. We have repeated requests from the captains for me to meet with them, since the last outage. I keep refusing.”
Banichi did not seem to account that good news at all. He heaved a heavy sigh. “It is not from weakness,” he said. “They may have taken Ramirez.”
No, not good news. “I hoped he might be here.”
“We tried to convince them he was at another place,” Banichi said. “The rooms next to us are all vacant now. We had moved everyone back, fearing they might attack here, jeopardizing you, nandi, and we never convinced Ramirez to come to this level. For your safety, Bren-ji, permission to act.”
“To protect this place, or yourself, or our people, Banichi. But if Ramirez is lost, we have no choice but deal with the successors.”
“You must not go to their meeting,” Jago said.
“No,” Tano agreed. “You must not.”
“We can’t protect you,” Banichi said. “It would not be wise, Bren-ji. Your security strongly requests you not take such a chance.”
“I’ll talk with them,” he said. “I won’t agree to go there. But I’m worried about Kroger’s safety.”
“We cannot guarantee it,” Banichi said.
“But the station has no reason at all to antagonize her,” Bren said. “That’s in her favor. If she just stays quiet.”
“One fears Mercheson has contacted her,” Banichi admitted.
“Then she is involved.”
“Yolanda Mercheson believed she had credibility with the Mospheirans,” Banichi said, “and one believes there was contact from Ramirez as well.”
Worse news.
“Stay here,” he said. “Narani, attend him. Banichi, at least an hour or two. Rest. Eat. Whatever suits. I’m going to talk to the captains.”
“Agree to nothing that involves going to them, nadi-ji. I most emphatically urge against it. No matter what they urge.”
They had seven more days until the shuttle came back… let alone the fifteen until they could service it and give them another chance to get off this station. He had been known to lie, in the course of diplomacy, when it was absolutely necessary; but in this case… he had decided qualms about a lie to Banichi, and even greater qualms about a diplomatic failure.
“I’ll do what I must,” he said, knowing it was not what Banichi wanted to hear. “And trust my security will rest so they can deal with it. I have to deal with these people. If the threat they foresee materializes, we can’t afford years of standoff. I have to find out what we’re dealing with.”
“Don’t go there,” Banichi said, as forcefully as Banichi had ever said anything, and that stopped him and made him think hard.
“I can’t evidence fear of these people,” Bren said. “And they have a certain obligation to respect a truce.”
“These are not Mospheirans, Bren-ji.”
“No,” he agreed. “Nor would I risk my security; but, Banichi-ji, if we arrange a meeting and they attack, it will not please the crew. The captains have used up all the crew’s patience with the attack on Ramirez. But I believe the crew has a limit, and I believe the captains are worried they may reach it.”
“Bren-ji,” Jago said. “We have the aiji’s orders, as well.”