“You figured that out,” said Father doubtfully.
“I think I did.”
“And Haddi gets to live again,” Father said slowly, with care and some misery.
Diamond nodded.
“To live with us?”
“No,” he said. Then he said, “Maybe. Each time, we get different lives.”
The man’s mouth opened and then closed.
Diamond believed his own words, so much so that he couldn’t escape from them. But what was beautiful and obvious in his mind made the papio woman angry, and Father looked sick and no happier than before.
His plate was still half-covered with food. Diamond rose and picked it up, reporting, “Good is hungry.”
Without sound or fuss, Father wept. But he stood regardless and picked up his mostly untouched breakfast, and then he told the papio, “I want to walk my boy back to his cabin.”
The papio didn’t want Diamond to remain here. “Go,” she said.
Away from the galley, Father said, “Tell me.”
Diamond didn’t respond.
“There’s something else. Tell me.”
“Nothing,” the boy lied.
Father didn’t believe him. Shaking his head, he quietly said, “When we were above, high between the bladders, we found something. A strange something. Does that surprise you?”
Diamond remained silent.
“You say you’re starving?”
“I am.”
“And your monkey?”
He nodded.
The soldier before them rose and opened the cabin door, and Father said, “Here, hand me yours.”
Diamond willingly gave him the plate.
Father walked to the middle of the little room and spilled both his breakfast and Diamond’s on the floor, and then he cursed with a sharp, believable voice.
The soldier glared at the mess.
“I’ll get you another helping,” Father said.
Good suspiciously picked up a pair of dirty eggs.
Diamond lifted one shade, watching the simple rain. “Two more helpings would be nice, if they’ll let you,” he said.
Father wiped at his wet face, nodding. “I don’t know what’s stranger,” he said. “Your endless appetite, or each of us spending eternity eating eggs.”
The story raced ahead of Prima. At least some clipped inadequate version of what happened onboard Panoply Night passed like fire through the entire fleet. Her species had a new leader. The woman Archon was temporarily in charge of the fleet. When Prima arrived on the Ruler’s bridge, she was going to be met with cold stares and cold silence. She expected nothing else. And as she explained to Sondaw, there were reasons to be thankful for that blind, hateful response.
“What I have is a title,” she said. “A barely legal status is folded up in my pocket. Not one of List’s people is going to give me more than sporadic help, except when they go out of their way to offer bad advice, and that’s going to bring a lot of silence and anger for as long as it takes them to build their rebellion.”
“And why are we thankful?” Sondaw asked.
“List’s people are going to ignore the realities, and meanwhile, my people will be able to accomplish two or three worthy deeds. I hope.”
They were standing inside her office. Prima had put on clean dry clothes, and picked up the papers that needed to accompany her to the flagship. But most importantly, she wanted her bleeding to stop. In the end, driven to panic, a man who had probably never in his life struck another person had punched her on the chin, his knuckles sharp as razors. Her bottom lip was cut and the entire jaw ached. Yet compared to her opponent, she was virtually unscathed.
“I hope I can depend on you,” she said.
“Of course, madam.”
“Because I will.”
He nodded.
She handed her aide a thick folder.
“I still don’t understand,” he said. “Why would you take such a risk?”
Ready for the question, she said, “Believe me, I know the man. List is self-absorbed and bloodless and shrewd, and worst of all, he perpetually thinks too much about himself.”
The young man nodded gamely, but he didn’t understand.
“Four hundred days ago, when the Archon followed Diamond to the reef, the man pranced in front of the papio. He told the papio to steal Diamond. He advised them that they should kill the Archon of Archons and start a great war with the tree-walkers because the boy was that important, that precious. His tone, that corrosive attitude, didn’t help then, and it won’t work today. And I think you agree with me. Today, everything depends on the face that we send against our enemies.”
She picked up a sack full of intelligence reports and papio rosters. Everything else would be brought by others.
Prima carried the sack, walking quickly.
“And the Archon of Archons agreed to this change,” the lieutenant said cautiously.
“Yes.”
“Because you hit him a few times,” he muttered.
Nobody was as important as this one young officer, and that’s why she stopped and looked at Sondaw, staring until he grew uneasy enough to throw his gaze at an empty wall.
“I struck him in front of his son.”
“Yes, madam.”
“I don’t know what King is. I can’t say that he’s a new species or something that the Creators forgot in their ovens. But ritual violence is King’s breath. A one-sided fight would accomplish considerable good. That’s what King believes, in his blood and spines. List was ashamed to be on the floor, and his adopted son was horrified by his father’s lousy showing, and because I had every advantage, at least for a few moments, the fleet is ours.”
“As long as we aren’t at war,” Sondaw said.
“We’ll be at peace tomorrow,” she said, walking again.
From two steps behind, her aide said, “But the Archon won’t let this stand.”
“He won’t,” she agreed.
“Madam,” he said. “I know how a beaten man thinks.”
She slowed. “From experience?”
“Every man knows,” he said.
Women knew it too, but she let that declaration pass. “The risks are smaller this way,” she insisted. “List is pushed aside temporarily. And as you pointed out to me, thank you, King might well have played a role in the various treacheries. Minimizing him is another blessing.”
“Yes, madam.”
She slowed, and the lieutenant had no choice but catch her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw no one else. “I can trust you, can’t I?”
Flustered, he said, “Of course, madam.”
“Three days ago, you didn’t exist. Not in my world. But here you are, helping your mother carry home the groceries.”
The lieutenant glanced at the folder in his hands.
“The rain’s nearly finished,” she said. “Come with me.”
The man took one step and stopped.
“Now what’s wrong?” she asked.
Sondaw surprised her. With a hard gaze and stern tone, he said, “I don’t believe this. List wouldn’t simply hand over his fleet.”
“Yet he did.”
“No.”
They stood alone in the hallway.
“What do you think happened?” she asked.
“You struck him, and in front of his son, you knocked him down. But that wasn’t enough.”
“No?”
“In the end, I think you made a deal with the man.”
“A deal,” she repeated.
“You come from a trading family. Traders know how to make agreements, and that’s why you gave him something, and I think you gave him more than that one chance to hit you in the face.”
“What could I possibly offer the Archon?”
Sondaw’s face flushed, and he said, “Diamond.”
Prima placed two fingers across the young man’s mouth. “This is the trader’s secret, Lieutenant: I would have done that anyway. Really, after the carnage at home, after so much death, how can we pretend to anybody that our little District might ever keep that boy safe again?”