Tracker, page 29
“Sit down,” Ogun said.
No bow was due that reception, just an unhurried nod of acquiescence. Bren took one of the two chairs, arranging his coat and cuffs, with all courtly grace. I’ll sit. Let’s talk. But I’m not your subordinate. Sir.
If it were a Ragi lord, there would have been a good quarter hour of tea. Ogun just stared, grim-faced, for a moment. “You’ve talked with Geigi.”
“I have, sir. I understand Stationmaster Tillington is upset and there is a small situation in progress. I hope we can get past that.”
“You come up here high and wide, apparently with a program and your own intentions. Let me make something clear, Mr. Cameron, if there’s been any doubt at all. I don’t give a damn for your groundbound politics. And you don’t decide things up here.”
“Let me make clear my position, also, Senior Captain. There’s a problem approaching this station, probably intending to dock. I’m the best resource you’ve got, I’ve met the kyo before, I’m here to arrange a peaceful contact with this incoming ship, and I assure you, I equally don’t give a damn about issues that divide you on this station. I don’t have a side, except insofar as I want everybody to come out of this alive and happy. If we can get past our internal problems and arrange tight control over what signals we send out to that ship, we’ll all be safer.”
“You say you don’t give a damn. Unfortunately you are terrestrial politics, personified.”
“The Central schedule is disrupted. I take it the issue is Stationmaster Tillington.”
“The issue is five thousand unscheduled problems you dumped on my deck, Mr. Cameron! The issue is potential riot and sabotage, which has now gone critical, thanks to the kyo you stirred up. You’re here to damp it down? Fine. Now explain how you’re going to deal with that ship.”
“First off, Senior Captain, I strongly suspect the kyo are here to reconnoiter. I think they want to know what we are, how extensive our holdings are, and how many ships we have. But I don’t think I want to tell them that.”
Ogun let go a slow breath.
“So?”
“We know there’s another species out there besides kyo. The kyo may be looking for evidence of our dealing with their enemies. They may also want to verify that we haven’t been lying in what we have communicated to them. We have very little in common, physically. We don’t share the same comfort zone. Trade is certainly inconvenient over such a distance. Maintaining a presence here—I hope is equally inconvenient for them. I think they’re here just to look.”
“You’re betting on it. You’re betting a lot, Mr. Cameron.”
“The extent to which I bet will change as I get information, Senior Captain, and I will be reporting to you as I get it. I’ll be hoping for all the help I can get.”
“You brought the aiji’s kid up here.”
“The contact we made was through that kid. And through the dowager.”
“As a woman?”
“As an elder. We think. As we think the boy’s youth was also a positive. We honestly don’t know the age or gender of anyone we dealt with. We guess. But we don’t know. It’s that basic. We want to re-create what understanding we had, take up the conversation where we left it, with the very same persons we were talking to, granted the person we met is on that ship. We hope he is. We were trying to gain an understanding of each other—despite the fact most of the kyo words we know are things like tables and chairs, food and drink. But that’s my skill, sir. That’s what I do. That’s what I’m trained to do. You on this ship have never made close contact with another species. Neither, as I gather, have the kyo. Atevi and Mospheirans have. Our relationship is the equation I think that ship is here to solve. It puzzles them. It seemed to interest them. And we don’t want to present them the spectacle of quarrels in our midst.”
He left a small silence, then, and Ogun sat staring at him, but with an occasional redirection in the stare, a thought hurtling meteor-like through a mind itself quite, quite foreign to atevi or Mospheirans.
“They’re transmitting,” Ogun said, tight-jawed. “They’re repeating a series of beeps. Whatever that means. We answer the same. They haven’t changed. What’s your opinion?”
“That they have no desire to startle us, perhaps. That they’re inviting a changed response from us. Or intending to give one themselves as they get closer. In short, I don’t know. We’ve had no experience to tell us, except that this was exactly what they did the last time, and we’re doing what we did the last time.”
“You think you can talk to them, in some meaningful degree.”
“I’m certainly prepared to try, sir. We were able to meet face to face with what may have been significant higher-ups aboard their ship. The presence of persons of older and younger age among us, notably the aiji-dowager and the aiji’s son, did seem to impress them. They may have taken it as proof of a peaceful intent.” He wasn’t sure he was getting through to Ogun in the least. The jaw stayed set. He tried something less conservative, involving more guesswork. “They blew hell out of Reunion, but they didn’t destroy it. I think they sat there silent and at distance and waited. They appear to have watched Phoenix come in when Ramirez was Senior Captain, then watched it leave without removing the population. They then went on sitting there, evidently, for ten more years, knowing what direction you’d gone and probably which star was your likeliest destination.”
Ogun’s jaw clenched and a muscle jumped. That was all.
“Possibly they’ve also been sitting out in the fringes of this solar system for some time,” Bren said, “watching us the way they watched at Reunion. I understand we could miss that sort of presence, if they weren’t actively transmitting.” And right into the heart of the old feud. “And regarding that, I have a question, sir, that could be important to know. When the kyo spooked Phoenix out of their space, back under Ramirez’ command, did you come into their space directly from Reunion, and did you go directly to Reunion after you were spotted?”
The jaw worked a moment. Ogun knew exactly what he was asking. And it was extremely sensitive territory. “Not directly. We tried misleading them on our exit, which is how they got to Reunion ahead of us. Unfortunately our back-trail hadn’t faded. The back-trail was, yes, what they followed instead of us.”
“So they’re not communicating faster than they can fly.”
“Nobody can do that,” Ogun said.
“Did you pick up any attempt to communicate the first time you met?”
“No. They showed, and it was Ramirez’ decision to move. Fast.”
That mattered. Phoenix popped up in kyo space, didn’t talk, ran without trying to talk. Just spooked out.
“It helps to know, sir. So we don’t know what sort of ship they took you for. We have no knowledge what sort of species they’re at war with, either. Or whether they’ve ever talked to them.”
“Meaning?”
“They crippled Reunion. They went straight there instead of following you, and crippled it. And waited. Whether another ship followed you wherever you went in your retreat—whether there’s always been just one kyo ship—there’s no indication. That ship attacked Reunion, and it’s my suspicion they sat just watching Reunion try to recover, waiting for a ship to show up. And when you did come in to Reunion, you found it damaged, you found survivors, and, apparently after an exchange with Stationmaster Braddock, Braddock refused to abandon the station and Ramirez left them in their situation. Am I right? Ramirez kept that communication secret, had only his aide in on it, and didn’t tell the captains who were off-duty. Did he spot that watcher? Did he spook out and run because of it?”
Silence for a moment. A muscle jumped in Ogun’s jaw.
“That’s a damned interesting theory, Mr. Cameron. Not correct in all points, but interesting.”
Ogun. The man who’d posed heated objection to Sabin taking a mission back to Reunion to recover the human library—objecting that Reunion would have no living survivors.
Sabin had gone back after the library. And Ogun’s reason for anger at her was, according to reports, her coming straight back here to Earth once she’d encountered the kyo.
But was it the real reason?
Was there guilt involved in that anger? A secret that had eaten Ogun alive and poisoned relations among the captains for more than a decade, now?
“The kyo sat there for ten years, sir, just waiting for that situation to play out. But at some point they went inside the station, perhaps to explore the architecture, perhaps to capture someone for interrogation. The Reunioners snatched a member of their investigating team, and the kyo immediately backed off. Still with no communication. No further interference. And finally we came back. When we did, they signaled us. We responded. They let us contact the Reunioners. They let us remove them. We retrieved their crew member, we talked with him, we returned him to his people, and through him, we were able to meet and talk with them. We may have talked with kyo fairly high up in authority. But the point is—they tested the situation. They waited. They have patience in ten-year packages. So, no, I don’t want to rush the communications. And if you do know anything bearing on what I’ve just outlined, sir, without prejudice, without judgment, without any opinion of the rightness or wrongness of what happened—I just want to know. I need information. Correct information.”
Small silence. “Was Sabin part of this meeting with the kyo?”
“The participants in the conference with the kyo, sir, were myself, the aiji-dowager, and the young aiji—both of whom have come with me to reprise the contact we had going.”
Ogun’s jaw worked. He said nothing.
“We have a moderately good record with them, sir: we respected their territorial claim, we retrieved their crewman, returned him to them. We were allowed to take the Reunioners off, we left the area, and there were no shots exchanged. I suspect they may have some key concepts in common with atevi—maybe more so than they have with humans. And I will use that, if applicable.”
Eyebrows lifted, carefully. A question.
“Association, sir. Aishi. For one thing, since it was the atevi the kyo contacted, it’s become the atevi language that gives us our bridge to understanding kyo. For another, the word association is one abstract concept they seemed to reach for. I think it is an emotional word with them. If I can assign emotion to people who can wait ten years. I don’t know.”
“People.” That concept seemed itself challenging—to Ogun’s thinking. And not in a welcome way.
“Whatever they are, they seem to be motivated to ask questions instead of shooting at us. I have no clue what their concepts are of nations or politics, I don’t know how their decisions are made. But as long as we are talking instead of resorting to weapons or laying claim to each other’s property, we can figure how to maneuver with them.”
“Where do you propose to meet them?”
“Likely they’ll come much closer. I’m personally prepared to meet them on their deck or on the station, and the aiji-dowager and the boy will be with me—hoping we do know who we’re dealing with. It’s far more dangerous to let our fear feed theirs or to hang back and let their imaginations and ours work. We need your support, on all fronts.”
Long silence.
“You come in here to take over from Tillington. You’re prepared to do that.”
That explained a bit.
“Is that his official assessment of my mission?”
“That’s his concern. He says you’ve gone atevi.”
“In point of fact, a paidhi works both sides of a situation. My job is to ‘go atevi’—or human—alternately. And completely. My last conversation with Tabini-aiji was the day before launch and my last conversation with the President was a call en route, so I’m up to date with their wishes, which are to do what I can to communicate with the kyo and prevent any misunderstanding. But as regards Stationmaster Tillington’s fears about me—that’s not my mission. The President is sending a special envoy to assume command during the emergency, to manage the Mospheiran workforce, and likewise to assure that Mr. Braddock doesn’t cause problems, now or in the future.”
“So we get one more side in this mess? One more finger on the buttons up here is no damned help, Mr. Cameron.”
“The Presidential envoy will consult with you, sir, and your approval will rule all matters with the ship and weigh heavily with the envoy. Presidential authority, however, will end the discussion between Mr. Tillington and Mr. Braddock.”
“And if the Reunioners don’t give a damn about your President?”
“The President is seeking to cooperate with you personally, sir, in finding a resolution to the Reunioner problem after the kyo have departed the system. So will Tabini-aiji. The President does not back Tillington’s proposal. Mospheira doesn’t need a separate human population with separate interests. Atevi object to that, and to their presence here. The composition of the station population is half Mospheiran and half atevi, by treaty, in cooperation with the ship. Creating a separate station under Mr. Braddock’s authority? No, sir. That’s definitely not acceptable.”
Ogun shoved his chair further back and canted it. “So we’re completely reversing position.”
“The President never approved the plan. If Stationmaster Tillington represented that it had the President’s approval, this is not the case. The President is also distancing himself from a statement Stationmaster Tillington made, and which, if the aiji-dowager needs to become aware of it, will bring extremely unpleasant consequences with the aijinate.”
“Is that a threat, Mr. Cameron?”
“No, sir, a warning. You may not be aware, sir—I assume you are not. Mr. Tillington suggested, before witnesses, that the meeting of the aiji’s son with the human children was politically motivated, and Captain Sabin’s doing. I assure you that does not translate into the atevi language in any fashion which could exempt the aiji-dowager from his accusation. She would be within her rights to File Intent on the man.”
“Is that this mass of security arriving with you?”
“This is the aiji-dowager’s usual escort. I haven’t officially informed her about the statement, but there is no guarantee she is not privately aware of the incident. If she should choose to be informed—there would have to be diplomatic consequences, and this is the worst possible time to have that happen. The President does know about it. And for this and other matters of policy and failure to consult, his envoy will replace Stationmaster Tillington, I hope gracefully and privately, without any reference to the aiji’s son, so we can get on with the business at hand and never mention it happened.”
He saw Ogun draw a breath to retort, scowling, and he kept going. “You will have, on those terms, sir, the full support of the President, and the envoy will stay on the station until a permanent appointment can be made. I can say with fair assurance that it will be someone you can work with.”
Silence. Again. Ogun wasn’t pleased to be challenged. He wasn’t pleased to be handed a solution to his mess. He wasn’t pleased at being handed anything he hadn’t chosen . . . including, clearly, the presence of a Presidential envoy.
He had a card.
And maybe it was time to play it.
“You also have, Captain, at the direction of Tabini-aiji and President Tyers, my support, which I am glad to give. I voyaged with Captain Sabin and Captain Graham, so I do communicate well with them, but that is nowhere comparable to my obligation to a populated planet which is my home, sir, as the ship is yours. I have every interest in keeping this station and the ship and all its options safe, and to do that, I need to do what I’m damned good at, sir. But to do that, I need humans on this station not to be conducting a civil war at my back. You are the authority above other authorities up here, so I’m backing you, as I hope you will back me.”
“You are an arrogant bastard, Mr. Cameron.”
“One entirely at your service, sir, and in that interest, let’s create an understanding—and I have discussed this with President Tyers. You want the Reunioners taken out of your way. You wish they, and their politics, had never exited Reunion. And you wish Braddock would take a walk in space. We’re not far apart in that opinion. There’s no way to deal with that situation until we handle the kyo, and we can’t let Braddock use the kyo’s presence as a launch of his second career. If we manage things right, the kyo will come in, they’ll dock, we’ll speak to them, and with the Presidential envoy in charge of the Mospheiran half of the station, things there will stay perfectly quiet while we do it. If we don’t manage to talk to the kyo, the very best outcome we may get is a permanent kyo observation station sitting out there destabilizing our politics and limiting our options for a very long time to come. The President doesn’t want that, the aiji doesn’t want that, and I don’t think you want that. Tillington is making himself an obstacle to our dealing. His replacement will not. And we will move the Reunioner population down to the planet, where it will not be a further issue.”
Ogun blinked. Just that. “Whose word backs that, Mr. Cameron? And how do they get down there? Parachute, like your ancestors?”
“The Mospheiran shuttle program is getting into production, sir. And they will have help from the aiji, who is equally in favor of seeing this issue resolved. It is a viable option. It’s the only viable option, which became an option thanks to your medical folk. One could assume you had some such in mind, when the young aiji’s visitors were able to thrive down there.”
Ogun’s notion? Or was it Sabin who had pushed the meds? Or Jase himself? Someone had, whether for practical hope—or politics.
Ogun stared at him, mouth just a little less clamped. “So who is this envoy, Mr. Cameron?”
“At this point, sir, I haven’t been informed. Communication has been severely limited, so long as Mr. Tillington has been sitting in a position to intercept messages between myself and the President, and so long as communications on the planet are subject to eavesdropping by various agencies. The President may have considered alternatives I know nothing about, but I have a strong hope the appointment will be somebody who’s been here before, who knows the station and its systems.”
