“Perhaps,” Bren said, and Ilisidi waved a negligent hand—which sent Cajeiri running (pursued by a sharp stare from his great-grandmother) out the door.
“Tea?” Narani asked, and offered a cup, which Prakuyo took in both hands. Prakuyo sipped it, seemed at first to find it strange, and then to savor it greatly, dumping in a considerable lot of sugar.
The food on Prakuyo’s plate disappeared as rapidly as that on Ilisidi’s—for that matter, on Cenedi’s and Banichi’s and Jago’s, long after Bren had reached his limit on tea cakes. He sat there waiting for a seven-year-old’s picture books, trying to think of the verbal routes he might use to reach some sort of abstract understanding. Friend hadn’t even crossed the boundary between what was atevi and what was human. Friendship equated with atevi association . But intimate, heart-deep divergence of how person connected to person remained elusive to this day. The constellation of emotionally mediated, non-rational, instinct-driven connections escaped them: one side simply did not perceive as the other did.
The one thing they had worked out was that truth was best and that politely pretending to understand was a lethal trap. Nearly impossible to straighten out a transspecies perception of betrayal or, worse, a real nest of lies. There was danger in every direction. But trust… a foregone conclusion of benign intent—could tip the balance at least toward a presumption of good behavior.
Banichi touched his arm—rare; but Banichi wanted his quiet attention.
“Jase-aiji informs us the foreign ship has begun moving toward us. He asks your presence.”
Damn.
But not nearly as heartfelt a damn ! as might be if they weren’t sitting at table with a critical condition satisfied—even satiated on tea cakes.
Jase needed to know that. Jase urgently needed to know there was progress.
“Dowager-ji,” Bren said. “Prakuyo-ji.” Two bows. “Forgive me. Jase needs me urgently. Prakuyo, ship wants me. I come back. Eat. Eat. Lot of food.” He bowed again to one and to the other, and ducked outside, Jago in attendance, Banichi having remained with Cenedi, security being stretched perilously thin in that room with a table dividing a very strong guest from two very fragile persons. “Jago, I need to go. I shall not be long. Stay here. Assist. If Jase must speak to that ship, I should be there.”
“Yes,” Jago said with economy, and Bren hurried down the corridor, already thumbing buttons on his pocket com to reach C1.
“This is Bren Cameron. I’m on my way up there. Tell the captain.”
Chapter 17
He was approaching the end of the corridor as C1 answered him. “ Mr. Cameron, sir, the alien craft is moving at a cautious pace; it will have been moving for some time. Indications are it moved shortly after the visible flash when we lost the robot .”
Reasonable. The question was what it intended or what it thought was going on. It was a short list, and one hoped it had simply observed that flash and gotten worried. “Has station noticed this movement?”
“ Captain Graham is talking to station administration now, advising them not to take any hostile action. ”
“As they value our collective lives, C1. I suggest you run the initial contact pattern for the alien. Send it and try to establish contact. Let them know we’re still alive and keeping our agreements.”
“ Captain Graham has already given that order. We are currently transmitting and repeating. ”
Jase was no fool.
Neither was he. He punched the alternate channel on his com unit as he reached the section door, passing Ilisidi’s guards, passing the door. “Isolate photographs of our guest, nadi,” he asked of Asicho. “Produce a good still image of him and reduce it to black and white, no grays. Send that image to the bridge. A picture that looks happy or serene, if possible to judge.”
“ Yes, nand’ paidhi. ”
He reached the lift, punched the call button, and changed com channels. “C1, Cameron here. Five-deck is sending you an image in a moment. Prepare it for transmission to the alien ship. I’m on my way up there in two seconds.” The lift car door opened. He stepped in, input his destination.
“ Bren ?” Jase’s voice, as the car started moving.
“We’re doing fine down here,” he reported to Jase. “His name seems to be Prakuyo, he speaks a handful of understandable words, and he’s currently stuffing himself on tea cakes and tea at the dowager’s table.”
Small silence. Then: “Get up here. Bren, get up here .”
The lift car didn’t move fast enough: it seemed forever until it let him out at the back of the bridge, and he headed straight for his first glimpse of Jase leaning over C1’s console.
Jase was talking with someone on com, angrily so, something about risk and responsibility and innocence. Then:
“Let us handle it, Mr. Braddock. I advise you, let us handle this ship and everything to do with it. You’ve got one hole in your station as is, and if you start shooting first, we won’t lift a finger to help you. I’m very serious about that.” Jase made a motion to C1, reached past the man and opened a small compartment in the console, extracting one of the communications earpieces. He handed it to Bren. Bren switched it on and stuck it quickly into his ear.
“… reject your credentials for this or any other such operation. You have no authority to contact that ship on your own behalf or ours .”
Patience ended. Ice entered Jase’s tone. “You had an alien hostage. Now we have him. You say let you manage communications between that ship and us; but if they contact us, we have no way to explain to them they’re supposed to talk to you, since in six years you don’t seem to have established any relations beyond a hostage situation. We’ve produced a set of communication files, we are using them at the moment, and you can see it’s not shooting. More, your population knows by now why we’re here, they know your hostage is in our hands, and we offer an alternative. Take our offer, sir. Come on board. Let’s shake hands and not even discuss old history.”
Jase wasn’t doing badly on his own.
“ Captain Graham, you are ordered to desist all independent operations, dock, and open your doors. ”
The one that could use a negotiator’s help was Braddock.
Unfortunately he wasn’t inclined to take help when it was offered.
“ Mr . Braddock,” Jase said quietly, “we’re providing you and your family a comfortable place in our colonial residency, where you can settle in far more comfort and safety than this station can ever offer. We’ve established contact with the alien ship and we have some confidence it won’t shoot unless provoked, but the point is, Mr. Braddock, it’s alien , it’s foreign , it’s not subject to either of us, and it’s apt to do any damned thing, which means we have to deal with it moment by moment. Negotiations are ongoing. If they break down, you can’t defend yourself; we can’t defend you, and we’re going to need fuel to get you and your station population to safety. Open the fuel port and allow an orderly boarding, for your own protection. The alternative is unthinkable.”