"You're very smug. Why?"
"Because you're not going to file charges."
"Do you want to bet on that?"
He was supposed to react. He smiled at her. He had himself that far under control, not knowing, not at all knowing whether or not Grant was in her hands. "I'm betting on it," he said, and held his voice steady. "You've got me. You haven't got Grant. As long as things go right with me and my father, Grant keeps his mouth shut and we're all just fine."
"That's why you stayed behind."
Thathad bothered her. The irrational act.
He smiled wider, a thin, carefully held triumph, alone, in her territory. "One of us had to. To assure you we'll keep quiet otherwise."
"Of course. Did Jordan plan this?"
He did react then. He knew that he had. It was an unexpected and offhanded praise.
"No," he said.
"You did." Ari gave a breath of a laugh; and he did not like that, even when all the movements of her body, her rocking back against the back of the lab-stool, her rueful smile, all said that she was surprised.
Ari played her own reactions the way his father did—with all her skill, all the way to the end of a thing.
So must he. He gave a matching, deprecatory shrug.
"It's really very good," Ari said. "But you have to put so much on Grant."
He's dead,he thought, bracing himself for the worst thing she could say. She might lie about that.
"I trust him," he said.
"There's one flaw in your set-up, you know."
"What would that be?"
"Jordan. He's really not going to like this."
"I'll talk to him." His muscles started to shake, the cold of the cryogenics conduits that ran overhead seeming to leach all the warmth from him. He felt all his control crumbling and made a profound effort to regroup. It was a tactic his father had taught him, this alternate application of tension and relief she was using, watching cues like the dilation of his eyes, the little tensions in his muscles, everything fallen into a rhythm like a fencer, up, down, up, down, and then something out of the rhythm the moment he had discovered the rules. He saw it coming. He smiled at her, having gotten command of himself with that thought. "He'll be amused."
He watched a slow grin spread over Ari's face, either his point or a deliberate dropping of the shield for a moment to make him think it was.
"You really have nerve," Ari said. "And you aren't at all cocky, are you? Damn, boy, the edges are ragged, you're not real confident you've got all the pieces in your hands, but I'll give it to you, that's a damned good maneuver. Harder than hell to do twice, though."
"I don't need to leave till my father does."
"Well, now, that is a problem, isn't it? Just how are we going to disengage this little tangle? Have you thought it all the way through? Tell me how it works when it comes time for Jordan to go off-world. I'm interested."
"Maybe you'll make me an offer."
Ari flashed a bright smile. "That's marvelous. You were so quiet. What did you do, try to throw those test scores?"
"You're supposed to be able to figure that out."
"Oh, cheek!" She outright laughed. "You arebright. You've taught me something. At my age, I value that. You're very fond of Grant, to give up your camouflage for him. Veryfond of him." She leaned against the counter, one elbow on it, looking soberly up at him. "Let me tell you something, dear. Jordan loves you—very much. Very, very much. It shows in the way you behave. And I must say, he's done a marvelous job with Grant. Children need that kind of upbringing. But there's a dreadful cost to that. We're mortal. We lose people. And we really hurt when they hurt, don't we? —Families are a hell of a liability. What are you going to tell Jordan?"
"I don't know. As much as I have to."
"You mean, as much as will let him know he's won?"
Break and reposition. He only smiled at her, refusing a debate with a master.
"Well," she said, "you've done Jordan proud in this one. I don't say it's wise. The plan was very smart; the reasons are very, very stupid, but then, —devotion makes us fools, doesn't it? What do you suppose Jordan would do if I charged you with this?"
"Go public. Go to the Bureau. And you don'twant that."
"Well, but there's a lot else we can do, isn't there? Because his son really isguilty of theft, of vandalism, of getting into files that don't concern him— And there's so much of that that doesn't have to happen. Jordan can make charges, I can make charges; you know if this breaks, that appointment he wants won't make it, no matter what interests are behind it. They'll desert him in a flash. But you know all that. It's what makes everything work, isn't it—unless I really wanted to take measures to recover Grant and prosecute those friends of yours. That's what you've missed, you know. That I can do just exactly what you did, break the law; and if someone brings out your part in this, and if your father has to listen to your personal reasons, our little private sessions, hmmn? —it's really going to upset him."
"It won't do you any good if I go to court, either. You can't afford it. You've got the votes in Council right now. You want to watch things fall apart, you lay a hand on Grant—and I talk. You watch it happen."
"You damned little sneak," she said slowly. "You think you understand it that well."
"Well enough to know my friends won't use a card before they have to."
"What have you got on the Krugers, that they'd risk this kind of trouble for you? Or do you think the other side won't use you? Have you taken that into account?"
"I didn't have much choice, did I? But things ought to be safe as long as the deal for Jordan's transfer is going to hold up and you keep your hands off Grant. If they put meunder probe they'll hear plenty—about the project. I don't think you want outsiders questioning anyone in Reseune right now."
"Damned dangerous, young man." Ari leaned forward and jabbed a finger in his direction. "DidJordan map this out?"
"No."
"Advise you?"
"No."
"That amazes me. It's going to amaze other people too. If this goes to court, the Bureau isn't going to believe he didn't put you up to this. And that'sgoing to weigh against him when it comes to a vote, isn't it? So we'll keep it quiet. You can tell Jordan as much as you want to tell him; and we'll call it stalemate. I won't touch Grant; I won't have the Krugers arrested. Not even assassinated. And yes, I can. I could arrange an accident for you. Or Jordan. Farm machinery—is so dangerous."
He was shocked. And frightened. He had never expected her to be so blunt.
"I want you to think about something," she said. "What you tell your father will either keep things under control—or blow everything. I'm perfectly willing to see Jordan get that Fargone post. And I'll tell you exactly what deal I'll strike to unwind this pretty mess you've built for us. Jordan can leave Reseune for Fargone just as soon as there's an office there for him to work in. And when he ships out from Cyteen Station, you'll still be here. You'll arrange for Grant to follow him as soon as the Hope corridor is open and the Rubin project is well underway. You can take the ship after his. And all of that should keep your father—and you—quiet long enough to serve everything I need. The military won't let Jordan be too noisy—They hate media attention to their projects. —Or, or, we can just blow all of this wide right now and let us fight it out in court. I wonder who'd win, if we just decided to pull Rubin back to Cyteen and give up the Fargone facility entirely."
I've fallen into a trap,he thought. But how could I have avoided it? What did I do wrong?
"Do you agree?" she asked.