Safetyof the ship, but it was within reason: Bren forebore a distracting correction.
“If she has offended you, aiji-ma,” Jase said, “it was not intent to do so. Great respect for your authority has brought her at a very busy time.”
“We accept that. Let her give us the tape. Ask her.”
“Captain,” Jase said, on a deep, deep breath. “There would have been a tape record—covering the entry of personnel onto Reunion.”
“What’s that to do with anything?”
“The aiji would like to see that tape. It wouldbe in the log. Wouldn’t it?”
“What’s in the log or not is our business. When did this come up?”
And is Sabin wearing a wire? Bren asked himself, calmly taking a sip of an excellent cream soup. And is it feeding to someone with at least rudimentary knowledge of Ragi?
And are we in deep water already?
God, what ought I to do?
“It occurred to me,” Jase said, leaving Yolanda innocently out of it, “that if we had security aboard, electronics would have recorded that excursion aboard the station.”
Sabin had half-emptied the globe, and took a drink of vodka besides.
“And of course you went straight to your atevi friends with that theory.”
“Friends, captain, can’t apply with atevi. But I assure you they’d think of it for themselves once they familiarized themselves with the ship’s general practices, and it wouldn’t be good to have them think of it before we’d said, and it wouldn’t be good to spring a surprise on them after we’re out there.”
“So of course you spilled it on yourwatch.”
“My watch is my watch, captain, and when I’m on the bridge I do my job. This is the best thing to do.”
The captain took another long drink of soup, one of those imposed silences, in which she needn’t speak, needn’t answer. It took the globe down to a quarter.
We’re in it now, Bren thought. And if she’d honestly be persuaded to reason, on her own, and we’ve done this…
“Mr. Cameron,” Sabin said, utterly redirecting to him, on the other side of the table, “what do you think?”
“I think the presentation of those tapes would be a gesture of good will.” He should say something. He should.
“I think I made my position clear. You’re passengers. Not command personnel. Evidently you’ve received a briefing from my brother captain. But this is an internal matter of ship’s records, and no more is forthcoming. You can convey thatto the aiji’s grandmother.”
Or maybe not.
Cajeiri had lost a drink globe, and reached suddenly to retrieve it. Bren’s nerves jumped. Jase’s surely did. They were the only ones who might understand both sides of the conversation—give or take, Banichi, Jago, and the chance of one of Ilisidi’s young men understanding; and he didn’t put it past her limits. His advisors knew at least sketchy details, and hadn’t intervened, hadn’t given him a signal—nothing.
“I can’t urge enough,” Bren said, “that we are a resource to the ship, a well-disposed one, and it would be a very, very bad decision to breach agreements that brought her into this mission. Is that what I understand you’re doing?”
“Mr. Cameron, the Mospheiran delegate will be boarding about now. And I’m sure shehas her expertise—hers happening to be technical, with the robots, and if things don’t go well, and possibly if they do, her expertise will have its moment. And at that time, with the thanks of us all, she will do her job. Now that is a useful talent. Exactly what the dowager does besides observe isn’t exactly clear to anyone, but she will be free to observe to her heart’s content. I’m sure it’s a useful talent, but it’s not one I need underfoot right now.”
Absolute reversal of agreements, Bren thought in dismay. He saw Jase’s distressed frown, and knew if he did translate, all hell would break loose.
“Surveillance and security, captain, andcommand-level decision-making equal to the ship, equal to the island. As for Jase’s expertise, and mine, finessewith those who think they’re going to have things their way, to assure that we don’t miscalculate and make a mutually regrettable mistake. I urge you, I strenuously urge you to cooperate with your allies, captain.”
The air was chill, even yet. But a sweat had broken out on Sabin’s face.
“Well, you haven’t persuaded me, Mr. Cameron. And I don’t need your aliens underfoot. So you’re not that good, are you?”
“Captain,” Jase interposed.
“No, no, no,” Bren said. He’d been horrified a moment ago. Now, heart and soul, he stood back from himself, took a sip of his yellow globe, and told himself it wasn’t at all human to be content with what he knew. Or it might be. And that somewhere in Sabin’s mind there was a serious difficulty with their program. “The captain’s quite right. We aren’t able to persuade her that there’s a difference between aliens out there, or people defending their planet. So let me propose that you and the senior captain view the tape together, and determine what’s on it, and then let us reach a reasonable decision.”
“Mr. Cameron,” Sabin said, “let me break some news to you. You don’t control what happens on this ship.”
“A modest proposal,” Bren said. While the sweat increased.
“It’s cold in here,” Sabin said suddenly, distracted. “Is this the temperature your people prefer?”
“It doesn’t seem cold to me,” Bren said. “—Does it to you, Jase?”
Jase threw him a look. It became a stark, a comprehending look. “Face!” Bren said in Ragi. And Jase did what Jase, over years on the planet, had learned to do, and totally dismissed expression.
“Aiji-ma,” Jase protested. “ Bren.”
“Aiji-ma,” Bren said evenly. “Jase-aiji expresses grave concern for this accident. As do we both. And most earnestly assume it isn’t lethal.”
“The tapes,” Ilisidi said. The dreaded cane had been at rest. Now she banged it hard against a table leg. “The tapes, nadiin-ji.”
Sabin attempted to leave her place, to drift free, not quite in control of her limbs. Cajeiri froze in place, young creature in a thicket, as Jase sailed free of his chair to overtake Sabin, to seize her in his arms.
Bren pushed free as well.
“I’ve been poisoned,” Sabin said. “Damn you!”
“Not lethal,” Bren said to Jase in Ragi. He wasn’t that utterly confident, but he said, in ship-speak. “I fear it’s a reaction to something you ate, captain. The sauces. The sauces can be particularly chancy.” Sabin was passing into shivering tremors, angry and incoherent in the chattering of her jaw. “Not generally fatal. It happened to me, once.” On purpose. At the dowager’s table. For just such reasons. “I’m very sorry.”
Sabin reached for her communications unit, but her fingers had trouble with the button.
Jase took it, about to use it himself, but Bren shot out a hand onto Jase’s and prevented that.
“You’re in charge,” he said to Jase in Ragi. “Not likely fatal, nadi, believe me. But you and I and our security are all going up there, to attend her to sickbay.”
“We can’t have done this!”
“Insulting the dowager at her own table? You can’t have done that, either—which I assure you is far more dangerous to the peace than the soup. Disabling the opposition is a moderate response, a limited demonstration, in this case.”