“Of course I have,” Yiv said. “It hangs between the hard-drinks table and the private entrance to the premier’s office suite.”
“Really,” Thrawn said, looking back at the tapestry and the unassuming door beside it. “How do you know that’s the premier’s private door?”
“Because I’ve been in his office, of course,” Yiv said. “He and I have had many long and interesting conversations together. Would you be so good as to fetch me a drink?”
Thrawn half turned in the other direction, where a waiter was just passing by, and deftly plucked one of the sculpted glasses from his tray. “And the premier invited you in by that door?” he asked.
“No, I’ve always been brought in through the public entrance on the other side,” Yiv said. “But I have a skill with architecture, and it was obvious where the door marking the private entrance exited here into the grand assembly chamber.”
“I suppose I can understand the premier wanting a quick escape from the tedium of these events.” Thrawn sniffed at the drink, then stepped forward and offered it to Yiv. “I trust this will be to your liking.”
“I’m certain it will,” the Benevolent said. He held the glass up to his left shoulder, watching with casual interest as one of the symbiont’s tendrils slipped in and sampled the liquid. “Yes, I imagine the premier might occasionally wish to move back and forth between public and private events. I personally find it more interesting that the passageway between the two rooms is too long.”
“What do you mean, too long?”
“Longer than it should be, given the design of the area,” Yiv said. “I trust you aren’t offended by my little pet?”
“Not at all,” Thrawn assured him. “A poison detector, I presume?”
“Poisons and other inconveniences,” Yiv said. He pulled the glass away from the tendril, watched a moment as it continued to undulate, then took a sip of the drink. “They’re faster and more precise than most inorganic tests for such things. They also provide an interesting topic for conversation when all others lag.”
“Interesting that you say they.” Thrawn said. “I would assume the correct term was it.”
Yiv chuckled. “You see? Already it offers opportunity for discussion. Why would you guess the premier needs a too-long passageway?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” Thrawn said. “Perhaps a hidden door built into the corridor wall leads to additional quarters or a sanctuary. Or perhaps the extra space is for a guard station to prevent others from using the shortcut. Tell me, what do you see in the design of the tapestry?”
“I’m hardly an expert,” Yiv protested mildly.
“You asked my thoughts on the premier’s private comings and goings,” Thrawn reminded him. “It only seems fair for you to indulge me in turn.”
Yiv took another sip and studied the cloth. “Symmetrical pattern,” he said. “Contrasting colors. Different sets of contrasting colors, becoming brighter and tending toward red and blue as it flows from top to bottom. The fringe on the left-hand edge seems shorter than the corresponding fringe on the right.”
“Shorter, and the threads are also slightly thicker than those on the right,” Thrawn said.
“Are they? I can’t tell from this distance.”
“I studied them earlier from a better vantage point.”
“Ah,” Yiv said. “The hanging itself is clearly old, which probably explains the inexpertise of its design and construction.”
“It’s certainly old,” Thrawn said. “But I would submit that the design irregularities are deliberate. It was clearly created by two different weavers working in both coordination and contrast. That suggests the Vaks honor both aspects, working for unity while at the same time celebrating difference and uniqueness.”
“I would say that’s a fair assessment,” Yiv said. “Interesting. And you determined that solely by studying a single hanging?”
“Hardly,” Thrawn said. “There’s a great deal of other artwork here. All of it displays and defines the Vaks’ cultural ethos. What do you see here?”
“I see what all beings see in others,” Yiv said. “Opportunity. For you, the opportunity to add to your knowledge of art. For me, the opportunity to make new friends within the churning sea of life that makes up the Chaos.”
“And if the Vaks don’t wish to be friends to the Nikardun?”
The Benevolent’s smile faded. “We would consider such a rejection to be an insult.”
“An insult that would need to be avenged?”
“To be dealt with,” Yiv corrected. “Avenged is far too savage a word. Your observational skills are impressive.”
“Some things are obvious,” Thrawn said. “The tendrils on your symbiont, for example, with the inside group thinner than those on the outside. I presume from their rhythmic movement that the inner ones sample the air in the same way the outer tendrils sample your food and drink?”
“Indeed,” Yiv said, his smile widening even as his eyes went a shade cooler. “Few people have ever grasped that fact and distinction. None have grasped it so quickly.”
There was a movement at the edge of Qilori’s vision, and he turned to see the Chiss woman slip past him. Thrawn looked over as she walked to his side, peering closely at her face. “Better,” he said. “But not perfect. You will rise an hour early tomorrow morning and practice.”
She bowed low. “Yes, my lord,” she said softly.
“And this is?” Yiv asked, gesturing toward her.
“A person of no consequence,” Thrawn said. “Now that she’s finally returned, it’s time to retire for the night. Thank you for your time, General Yiv. Perhaps we’ll have an opportunity to resume this conversation another time.”
“Indeed, Artistic Master Svorno,” Yiv said, inclining his head. “I’ll look forward to it.”
He watched in silence as the two Chiss wended their way through the crowd. Then he again beckoned to Qilori. “So that’s the one who stole my ship from Rapacc,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “Interesting.”
“He’s more competent than he seems,” Qilori said, wincing a little. The whole conversation had seemed pretty pointless. If Yiv blamed Qilori for wasting his time—
“You think that display showed incompetence?” the Benevolent said contemptuously, still watching the Chiss. “You think just because there were no loud voices or discharged weapons that we didn’t engage in combat?”
“But—” Qilori looked at Thrawn as he disappeared through an archway.
“Trust me, Pathfinder,” Yiv said, his voice dark, his symbionts undulating in quiet agitation. “I understand this person now, and he is every bit as dangerous as you told me. You were wise to bring him to my attention, and then into my presence.”
“Thank you, your Benevolence,” Qilori said. He still had no idea what had just happened, but if Yiv was pleased he certainly wasn’t going to argue the point. “What are you going to do with him?”
Yiv took a sip of his drink. “The choices are three: to take him as he leaves this event, to do so at another time during his stay on Primea, or to do so as the Garwian envoy leaves for his return to Solitair. All three present difficulties and dangers, not the least of which is my reluctance to move overtly against either the Vaks or the Garwians at this point.”
“Or the Chiss,” Qilori warned.
“The Chiss are irrelevant,” Yiv said scornfully. “They only move after they themselves have been attacked.”