“He was bitten?”
“Not successfully,” Jago said.
“Well, one is certainly warned,” Bren said, tugging at a cuff, arranging the lace—in his experience, high civilization discouraged biting. Which might only say how stressed and desperate their guest had become. “One hopes an intelligent species has no natural venom, and that his native bacteria are not something either atevi nor humans may easily share.” He had spent the voyage reading biological speculations, among other things, which now only made him nervous. “The difficulty with the air, nadi-ji. Have we resolved that to his comfort?”
“As best one can,” Jago said. “He seems to tolerate shipboard conditions well enough, and evidences no current discomfort. We have shown him the thermostat, the shower, the accommodation. Narani has provided his own cabin—he has hesitated to provide blankets, for security reasons, but our guest has not adjusted the temperature. He has exchanged the station garments for one of Bindanda’s robes, which was of sufficient size, and seems better pleased with that.”
Temperature preference satisfied. Gift accepted. He absorbed the information, comforted, after all that had gone on, simply to hear the lilt of Jago’s voice. Humanly glad, perhaps, in ways that didn’t address man’chi and the sensible feelings that mattered to any ateva—though he doggedly thought his bodyguard was more than pleased to have gotten him back again: that somewhere in their impulse toward man’chi, they must be equally warm and happy inside. He could scarcely think about the dire outcomes possible in their raid into Guild territory, but now that they were all safely through and back again, he began to have flashbacks of smoke and fire.
And belated panic.
“Gin-aiji is safe in her office,” Jago said smoothly. “But, as the paidhi-aiji may be aware, with less success. A robot is lost. We have, however established the location of guns guarding the fuel port.”
“And now we have Jenrette as well. And will release him. You followed that.”
“Yes,” Jago said. “Jase-aiji has him in the medical facility now; and will not trust him. Wise.”
His staff knew exactly what transpired on two-deck. He was occasionally astonished.
“I think his plan might even work,” he agreed. “If Sabin-aiji isn’t in Guild hands—or even if she is—Jenrette might act to save himself.”
“ Sigaiji ,” Jago said—an untranslatable word. An aiji no one would follow—born with the emotional makeup to lead, but not able to persuade followers to join him. Rogue leader was tolerably descriptive.
“I think he is,” Bren said. “I think in his case, that’s very apt.”
“Does he think Sabin is higher than he?”
In atevi minds, a very telling question. They had asked a man who might think his own beliefs the highest law—to rescue someone who claimed authority over him. In that thought, he was even less hopeful of Jenrette than he had been.
“One believes he can accept it, nadi,” he said to Jago, ”unless he knows he has gone much too far to regain her trust. Then he has to consider whether he believes he can die, and what that life may be worth to him.”
“One would not like to be Jenrette.”
“One would not, Jago-ji.”
“Even if he performs,” Jago said, “he is what he is. Not a person to rely on.”
“One agrees,” he said, and knew that that item was decisive in Jago’s mental files… decisive and a switch completely ticked over to foreigner . Not of our association.
“So Braddock-aiji has moved against Sabin, we have moved against Braddock; Braddock sends this person before he knew we were taking one of his assets away. Gin-aiji has lost a robot, but she urges another attempt, as soon as she can analyze what they saw. There are pictures.”
“Very good news.”
“One assumes that Braddock-aiji is taking other measures.”
“One hardly knows how to predict the Guild,” he said. “Their security has lost it one of its two prime assets. They would reassess, if they were wise. But if they follow true to form, certain subordinates will exert their energies to mislead the Guildmaster about their deficiencies.”
“One has known lords of the Association to do the same,” Jago said dryly.
“One has known lords of the Association to be completely paralyzed in such debates.” Recalling the Transportation Committee, of, God! such tame, quiet days. “One wishes they would remain paralyzed, but one fears Braddock-aiji will not act like the Presidenta of Mospheira—more like one of the ship-aijiin, without consultation. If he lets passengers board us, he will attempt to infiltrate his agents among them. I expect that, next. But the ship has foreseen unruly passengers, and installed precautions. So that becomes a smaller worry.” Crew had spent their voyage reorganizing systems and isolating those decks: granted anything less than a nuclear device, what happened on those decks should be limited to those decks. Switches governing air circulation, light, and temperature were all governed from the ship’s bridge. “One hardly knows, Jago-ji, what Braddock-aiji will do. Or what that ship out there will do.” He adjusted his cuffs. He had one of the most essential jobs of his life before him. “One assumes the dowager expects a report before I get to work.”
“She says: Visit when you have ascertained the nature and quality of this foreigner. Her own bodyguard has reported to her.”
Common sense and her own channels. Thank God. The dowager was a veteran of fast maneuvering and practical necessity.
“Shall we go with you to deal with this foreigner, Bren-ji? We both strongly urge it.”
“I entertain no other thought, Jago-ji,” he murmured. His initial session with their guest might be lengthy and tedious, and he wished his staff might snatch a little rest; but they were, themselves, skilled observers, and they had the strength and size and foreignness to keep their guest focused on communication, not thinking he could overwhelm a small individual of the same species that had kept him caged for six years.
So, yes, he decided his staff’s help might be a good thing.
Banichi joined them on their way down the corridor, Banichi and Jago neither one having yet found time to change to less businesslike kit, except to put away the heavier weapons and the heavy jackets. They had likely gone straight to a debriefing with Cenedi, which might already have involved the dowager—he rather bet that it had.
“One can observe our guest by way of the security station,” Banichi informed him, “should you wish to do that unnoticed, Bren-ji.”
“Excellent,” he said. Surprised that his staff had arranged surveillance? Not in the least. Narani’s cabin, so graciously tendered, had given their guest adequately sized furniture, an atevi-scale bed—and by fairly fast and discreet work, had given them direct surveillance on a monitor in the security station, where Asicho kept faithful watch.
“He has paced out the room, nandi,” Asicho reported when they stopped there to observe. “He has investigated the switches, tested the mattress, the chair and the cabinets, which are emptied, nothing damaged. He has bathed and dressed in one of Bindanda’s robes and nightshirts.” Tape accompanied this report, a quick skip through key actions, and a sequence of their guest in the bath, gray-skinned, with heavy folds that might indicate, unlikely as it seemed, given such a bulk, emaciation. Embarrassing, perhaps, to observe an individual in such a state, but necessary for their collective well-being.
“One fears they didn’t feed him near enough, nadiin-ji,” Bren murmured. “Or perhaps the station food disagrees with his stomach. We shall endeavor to better that. Advise Bindanda.”
“Yes,” Asicho said smartly, and did that.
In subsequent scenes their robe-clad guest drank multiple cups of water, five cups, as Asicho commented, before testing the bed gingerly and lying down.
Evolved in conditions of more water, rather than less. More vegetation rather than minimal, one might then guess. High water need. Heavy skin, the evolutionary value of which eluded his meager study. He wished he’d borne down just a little more on the theoretical end of his biology classes, back in his monofocussed youth. If a fact hadn’t applied to atevi, in his youthful arrogance, he hadn’t been interested. Now he was extremely sorry.