So here was Roolnai, doubtless to ensure that another dangerous, and much higher level, human accident was not in the offing. “Indowy Roolnai, I see you,” she said.
“Please will you sit with me, Michelle?” he asked, gesturing towards the respite chairs along the wall. They did not go into a private room, privacy not being big on the Indowy list of concepts. By Indowy standards, their privacy was inviolate simply because no Indowy would ever repeat or even try to remember a conversation between a major clan head and a Michon Mentat.
“You are here about my meeting with Pahpon,” she stated.
“Yes, I am. He contacted one of the other clans, who in turn contacted me because of my prior experience of humans.”
“Your experience is formidable. Nevertheless, I remind you that no Indowy-raised human has ever acted, significantly, in a way that was not in the best interests of his or her clan,” she said.
“Yet. We may also disagree as to what constitutes significance, and what constitutes the best interests of one’s clan. Threats of Galactic annihilation would, by most standards, fall outside the interests of one’s clan.” The Indowy’s face was angry.
“I am not aware that anyone has ever made such threats, directly or obliquely. If you speak of my meeting with Pahpon, I did quite strongly remind him of the dangers of declaring a breach of contract prior to any such breach occurring.”
“He felt otherwise,” Roolnai said tightly.
“He was certainly mistaken. The purely socioeconomic risk to his group of breaching the contract himself, by declaring breach where none has occurred, would be severe enough that it could only be a kindness to remind him before he made such a serious financial mistake.”
“He felt you threatened to misuse your abilities,” the clan head insisted. The Indowy from her work group continued to bustle around, but increased the berth they were giving the two leaders.
“He implied that he felt as much. I immediately laid out my case that there was no breach, which tactfully made it clear that our discussion was solely over the details of our contract. Perhaps a prejudice against humans caused him to assume a threat where there was none, but I certainly made every attempt, immediately, to correct his misperception.”
“He says your breach of contract is inevitable, and that you gave him no reason why it was not.” At least Roolnai was calming down.
“He is quite correct that I gave him no explanation of how I will avoid breach of contract. I am not obliged to. I can and will, however, give you a reason. This is a clan matter, and must not be divulged.”
“Accepted,” he said.
“As you know, I have clan members whose existence must remain unknown to the Darhel Groups. My contract allows unlimited delegation of tasks according to my judgment. I have, as is quite proper, delegated the tasks involved in ensuring I do not breach my contract to those members of my clan most uniquely qualified to succeed. Would you doubt that, with my guidance, properly limited by traditional wisdom, they are likely to succeed?”
“I do not like this. I find the risk almost as high as direct action on your own.”
Michelle finally made an expression, one that the clan leader might actually recognize since it was close to a similar Indowy expression. She raised her left eyebrow. The slight, closed-lip smile was less conscious.
“That is gross exaggeration and unworthy of you, Roolnai.”
Galaxy death. It seemed such a silly thing to suggest. However, the Indowy knew the power of Sohon. One unchecked Sohon master truly could bring about the destruction of all life, perhaps all formed matter, in a galaxy. It would take time, mind you. The mentat would be dead long before the galaxy. But the destruction would spread and spread, wiping out planets, stars…
Killing one Darhel, or even a clan, would barely cause Michelle to break a sweat.
However, Michelle knew the dangers as well as the Clan Leader did. No mentat was allowed to rise to her level if they had the slightest trace of interest in that level of violence. By the same token, suggesting that putting Cally on the job, while fey as any human in history, was anywhere near the same level of danger was just… silly.
After a long moment he sighed, “In that, you are correct.” Now he looked nervous. “Please tell me you are supervising them closely.”
“I am supervising them closely.” Childlike, she crossed the fingers of the hand that was hidden by her robe.
“I will tell Pahpon that there is no threat, that you are using legitimate, proprietary techniques to fulfill your contract, and that you have a traditionally acceptable likelihood of fulfilling your contract without breach.”
“Thank you.” Michelle bent her head slightly. The Indowy accepted the human gesture of respect and returned it. Arguably, they were of the same rank. The interaction between mentats and clan leaders had always been one aspect of fealty the Indowy were unsure about.
“Please, please keep them under control. I respectfully bid your clan good fortune.” He rose and turned to go, but stopped before he had gone more than a few steps. “Oh, there is something else,” he said. “You should be aware that the Darhel are becoming restless. We do not know what has disturbed the balance, but Gistar diverted one of their freighters leaving this system, two days ago, to intercept one of Epetar’s prize cargos at Dulain. Gistar is acting under the impression that Epetar has been the victim of a large robbery. In the Sol System. It is not good for the Darhel to be restless.” He made a shifting motion, the Indowy equivalent of a sigh. “What is done cannot be undone. Your fellow humans do not comprehend the damage such rashness may do. I know you may not have… opportunity… to contact your clan head directly for some time, but please use all your influence to restrain them.” He inclined his head, tacitly acknowledging her difficult position in interclan politics. After long years of practice, she had no trouble reading the plea in his eyes.
“Now that I finally have a chance to see you, did you enjoy your weekend off last week?” Wendy prodded. “C’mon, give.”
“Need you ask?” Cally grinned at her, knowing she herself looked more relaxed than she had in a long time. She gave the plate she’d been drying a last wipe and set it on the stainless steel shelf.
“Did you meet somebody? Ah, a blush! You met somebody. Cute?” Her friend was not going to give up this line of questioning easily.
“All I’m going to say is I had at least one nice evening.” I’m never going to get her off this, am I? Not a chance. “So the grapevine says you and Tommy are trying again?”
“Well… Hey! No fair! Illegal change of subject, fifteen yard penalty, loss of down. We were talking about your nice evening.” Wendy looked mildly outraged.
“Later.” Cally glanced around the kitchen meaningfully.
“Well, okay. But if you try to dodge me I’m giving Sinda a set of fingerpaints for her next birthday. And drums for Christmas, too!”
“Uh… sneak off with a pair of chocolate bars after dinner?” Cally offered.
“You’re on.”
The hall the O’Neals had rented for the “Kelley” family reunion was a refurbished Asheville wilderness resort from prewar days. Mostly what the facility had to recommend it was huge stone fireplaces and an isolated location. It was not refurbished enough to have a stocked and staffed cafeteria, so they had had to bring their own food and crew the kitchen in shifts. Fortunately, they only filled half the rooms, since the others hadn’t been redone yet and had plumbing that was… unreliable. But the partially unfinished state had made renting the facilities for a long weekend cheap — which was the other prime requirement in a location. Still, with the postwar economy being what it was, the O’Neals were a lot better off than many. Earth’s governments, and particularly the U.S. government, had been hit hard by late fees for failure to provide colonists according to contract when colony ships had been lost in transit and had failed to reach their destinations. Protestations that humanity had no control over the maintenance or mishaps of the ships had cut no ice with the Galactics’ arbitration councils. If someone or several someones on Earth had failed to take proper notice of the provisions of the contract prior to signing it, that certainly didn’t excuse the Earth governments from living up to their contractual obligations. The councils upheld the fees in full; the taxes to pay for them had been difficult. Earth governments negotiated later contracts to remove the offending provision. However, the interest on the existing fines had done enough damage to set postwar economic recovery back decades.