“Sorry I’m late,” he said cheerfully. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long.” He poured himself a glass of nightwake without waiting for an invitation and smiled guilelessly around the table, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes. Haliday’s frown deepened, and Malemayn laid a hand on 3er elbow, signaling silence.
Destany said, “You know the situation, Reiss. How can you back out now?” On me, your clan-cousin—your adopted clan, that took you in: he didn’t have to say any of that, and even in the dim light, Warreven could see the color rising in Reiss’s cheeks.
“I don’t have a choice,” Reiss said, still in that too-bright tone that masked embarrassment, and Warreven leaned forward before anyone else could speak.
“’Aukai’s right, we don’t have time for this. Tell them what you told me, Reiss.”
Reiss glanced at him, the blue eyes, foreign eyes, like ’Aukai’s conspicuous even in the relatively low light. When he spoke, the false brightness had utterly vanished. “I don’t have a choice, not if I want to keep my job. IDCA came down hard on my boss, and he told me flat out, withdraw the statement, or I don’t work for him anymore. I’m sorry, Destany—” For the first time, he looked at him directly, Casnot to Casnot. “—but I’m not risking my residency.”
“You were born here,” Destany said.
“I was born in Irenfot,” Reiss said. “You know that. No offense, Stany, but I don’t want to go back there. If I lose my job, that’s the only place I’ve got legitimate rights.”
“They can’t hold you to that,” Haliday began, and Reiss laughed.
“Can’t they? I’ll have pissed off IDCA, and they have final say here.”
“Or if they do,” Haliday said, with dignity, as though 3e hadn’t been interrupted, “you can fight it.”
Reiss shook his head again. “They’re making this into a question of trade. I can’t fight that—I’ve played around too much, they make an issue of it, they can get me for that. I’m sorry.”
“Why in all hells are they so concerned about trade now?” Malemayn said, then made a face and answered his own question. “Because it’s us, and everybody knows we’re looking for a case to challenge the trade system.”
“This wasn’t it,” Haliday muttered. Ȝe sighed, and looked at ’Aukai. “Maybe you’d—Destany’d—be better off with another set of advocates.”
“Do you think it would help?” ’Aukai asked, and Malemayn shook his head.
“Probably not, unless you can get another off-worlder to swear for you. Or if Reiss changes his mind.”
“Reiss is kin,” Destany said flatly. “I don’t know off-worlders anymore.”
“All I ever wanted was for Stany to be with me,” ’Aukai said quietly. “Either for me to stay, or him to come with me. You wouldn’t think it’d be that complicated.”
Well, yes, I would, Warreven thought. You’ve run trade out of your shop for close to a local decade, you can’t expect IDCA to do you any favors now. He said nothing, however, leaning back in his chair as Malemayn turned to Reiss.
“Do you think it would make a difference to your boss, to IDCA, if we weren’t involved?”
Reiss shrugged. “I have no idea. Look, I don’t know what’s really going on, any more than you do.”
“If it did, would you make your statement again?” Malemayn asked.
“Absolutely,” Reiss said, and glanced at Destany. “I don’t want to back out on you, on my obligations. I know what I owe Casnot, it’s just—I don’t have any choice.”
“We could ask Langbarn to take over,” Malemayn said, and Haliday snorted.
“He’s—ρe’s still a mem, no matter what ρe calls himself. The courts won’t like it.”
Warreven looked at ’Aukai, shutting out the conversation. It didn’t really matter, not unless they could find some way to persuade Reiss’s boss—Mhyre Tatian, he reminded himself, with an odd thrill that he wouldn’t admit was pleasure—to let Reiss make his statement. Beyond ’Aukai, a frieze of the spirits danced along the wall, Captain and Madansa and Agede the Doorkeeper with his eyepatch and bottle of sweetrum; the painted Captain, broad-shouldered, broad-bearded, reminded him of the feel of Tatian’s body against his own as they stood for an instant in unintended embrace. He dismissed that thought before it was fully formed: that was not the way to persuade a man who opposed trade so vehemently.
“What’s NAPD’s problem with trade?” he said aloud, and Malemayn glared at him.
“What in all hells does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know, exactly. Bear with me, would you?”
Haliday grinned, showing sharp, feral teeth. “Raven’s the only one with an idea so far, Mal.”
Malemayn threw up his hands. “Fine.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Warreven began, then shook his head. “Have a drink, Mal. I think I have an idea.”
Malemayn made a face, but the anger was fading. He reached for the nightwake pitcher, gesturing with his other hand for Reiss to proceed.
“The Old Dame—Lolya Masani, %e owns the company—doesn’t approve,” Reiss said. “Partly it’s %e doesn’t want us getting in bad with either Customs or IDCA—there’s some stuff, semi-recreational, that we export that’s strictly controlled in the Concord, and Customs could make life very hard for us if they wanted—and partly %e just doesn’t like the idea.” He grinned suddenly, “%e’s got this tape %e gives to every newcomer, where %e lays down the law to them. No new drugs unless %e clears them, and absolutely no trade, %e’ll fire anyone who sells a permit or a residency. And %e’s done it, too.”
“So Tatian isn’t opposed to trade per se,” Warreven said slowly. “He just has to make it look good for Masani?”
“I don’t know about that,” Reiss said. “I mean, he doesn’t approve of the players—I don’t think he’d sell permits even if the Old Dame didn’t say he couldn’t.”
Warreven waved that away. “But a case like this, where the trade was well in the past, and it’s just two people who love each other and want to be together—if we offered him some incentive, some reason to change his mind, do you think he would?”
“He wasn’t exactly happy when he told me I had to pull out,” Reiss said. “Basically, IDCA made him do it.”
Malemayn said, “We don’t have anything to offer.”
“Besides money, of course,” Haliday said, “and that would be a little crude, for dealing with an off-worlder.”
Warreven smiled. “But in four days, assuming the elections go the way Temelathe wants them, I’m the Stiller seraaliste. I control the sea-harvest, the land-harvest, and everything that’s surplus to the present contracts is mine to sell where I please. Would that be sufficient incentive, do you think?”
“It’s pretty crude,” Malemayn said. “You won’t be part of the group legally, but still…”
“I think it’s clean enough,” Haliday said. “But would this Tatian buy it?”
“I don’t know,” Reiss said, sounding dubious. “IDCA won’t be pleased.”
“I would imagine it would depend on what you offered him,” ’Aukai said. For the first time since they’d come to the dancehouse, she sounded like the woman Warreven remembered, strong, decisive, and just a little contemptuous of the world around her. “Make the price high enough, and any druggist will stand up to the IDCA.”
“We can’t do anything until after the elections,” Malemayn said thoughtfully, and looked at Warreven. “But that still leaves us time. I think this’ll work, Raven. I think it will.”