The Kalif inclined his head for a moment, than looked at the man again. "In that, at least, we agree. I have no doubt that some will speak against it.
"But tell me, Elder Gwampala, why you, for one, dislike the invasion. I presume that part of it is the men who will die in the war. But what are your other reasons?"
Gwampala's scowl furrowed his forehead into the area where hair once had grown. "That is reason enough!"
The Kalif's eyebrows shot up. "The Prophet wrote that one must be ready to give one's life to spread the word of Kargh. And proved with his own death that he meant it. As others have done since. How terrible is death, if the soul goes to Paradise?"
He paused. "Well, what you support, and your reasons for it, are a matter between you and Kargh, and perhaps Elder Dosu. I am not so naive as to think I can buy loyalty, or that honest men will sell it." He scanned over the five, then settled his gaze on Elder Dosu again.
"I have said what I asked you here for. And while I could say more, I've said what's necessary. Perhaps you'll assign someone as liaison, to keep me informed. Or perhaps you'll decide that's not necessary.
"Now, unless one of you has something further you need to tell me at this time…"
No one spoke until, after three or four seconds, Elder Dosu did. "On next Threeday I will issue a writ, authorizing and urging the Pastorate empire-wide to request support for a voting Assembly of Elders. Meanwhile, we five will have discussed possible objections which our pastors may face, and provide guidance in answering them.
"I'll have a copy hand-carried to you."
He got to his feet with the help of his umbrella. The rain still danced on the patio outside, almost as hard as before. "And now we will leave. It is eleven-fifteen, and while the Diet will not convene till one-thirty, I prefer to lunch at my leisure when I can."
With Jilsomo at his side, the Kalif walked with them down corridors to the front entrance of his palace. Making only a little small talk, saying nothing further about his proposal. It seemed to him the meeting had gone reasonably well, and that this was not the time to say more.
Also, it occurred to him that these past few days he'd performed as well as ever, mentally. Apparently his strangely shortsighted idea, following Dosu's speech in the Diet, had been an isolated and ephemeral aberration.
He hoped he'd reassured Jilsomo, too, he and the clean result of Neftha's medical examination. He'd realized from the physician's overly casual request that the two had colluded.
Fifty-one
Supper for the royal couple, that evening, was a chopped salad, a salad as aesthetic visually as in flavor. There were green and red vegetables of several sorts, and cubes of tender-flavored fish, with a clear, delicately tart dressing. As usual, they ate to the evening news, watching intermittently as it took their attention.
The kalifa had recovered readily from the events of The Prophet's Day. Probably because Nertiilo Parsavamaatu had been a certifiable madwoman, while by and large, the guests had been friendly and admiring. Equally important to the Kalif, the hurt she'd felt from his invasion plan was in abeyance, at least now that the subject wasn't prominent.
It helped greatly that Tain was good at directing her attention to other things. She was on her second reading of An Abstract of History , this time calling up elaborative material she'd passed by on her first reading. He wondered if her avidity for the subject was partly due to having lost her own history, and that of her home world and empire.
"It seems to me," Tain was saying, "that the empire would be better off if the peasants were taught to speak Imperial. And read it. Especially since it's not so different from their own speech.
The Kalif grunted. The observation wasn't unique to her, but it got angry reactions from most nobles, or at least most noble politicians. "Arguably true," he said. "But to impose a change would offend the nobles more than I care to just now. They're mad enough at me over the invasion issue." Damn! There he was, bringing it up! "Along with other matters. And when the Pastorate starts promoting the pastoral vote from the pulpit…"
He stopped in mid sentence; the news anchor had taken his attention.
"… Kalif Coso has released the cube of last Five-day's Diet session. A session in which the House castigated him severely over his duel with the late Lord Siisru Parsavamaatu."
He stared at the wall screen, unbelieving. He'd released no such thing!
"Their criticisms," the man went on, "were interrupted by a spirited defense of the Kalif by Elder Dosu. We'll show you excerpts of the House's verbal assaults, beginning with a motion by Lord Agros for formal denunciation, then show you Elder Dosu's defense in its entirety."
The man had Tain's attention now, too, and they watched, the Kalif in a state of near shock. Dosu's speech had stunned and embarrassed the nobles, and broken their indignation. But played before the public like this, it humiliated them. They'd be angry now with Dosu, and enraged at himself for its release. But he hadn't released it! Nor did he have any idea who could have; it was something only he had the authority to do!
Tain, engrossed in what she was watching and listening to, didn't notice his reaction till he got up from the table. "Darling! Is anything the matter?"
"That was not supposed to be released. I gave no such order, but the House isn't going to believe me when I tell them. They're going to want my body on a stake!"
He realized by her expression then that she'd taken his words literally. "Not literally on a stake," he added quickly, "but they're going to be very angry with me. I have to make some calls, and try to patch this up as well as I can."
Then he hurried from the dining room, leaving her with the television.
He placed a call to Lord Agros, who hadn't watched the news, telling him absolutely that he'd had nothing to do with it. After that he called several others. Finally he called Alb Thoga, who'd seen the news and wondered if the Kalif had taken leave of his senses; Thoga promised to make some calls, too, and to assure the Diet tomorrow that the Kalif was truly upset by it. Next he called Jilsomo, who'd also watched and been stunned by what he'd seen. Jilsomo would call Elder Dosu and make clear to him that the Kalif had had nothing to do with the fiasco. And that an investigation was being started to find out who had.
After talking briefly with Jilsomo, the Kalif called the Minister of Justice and told him he wanted the affair investigated. Starting that night, with questioning of the producer of the evening news. The ministry was to call him with every piece of information they got, till midnight. If possible, he wanted to attend the Diet tomorrow with something more than unsupported denials to offer.
Without supporting evidence, though-at least a little bit-he'd stay away from the Diet, he told himself. His failure to show up would bring angry ranting, he had no doubt, and quite possibly an actual, formal denunciation. Those he could live with. If he did show up, things would be shouted in his face that could hardly be retracted and would make future collaborations extremely difficult. There might even be a walkout by part of the House-a much greater possibility in his presence than if he wasn't there. Historically that had happened several times, blocking even minimal appropriations and largely stalling government. The first two times it had happened, the reigning Kalif had declared himself dictator "for the duration of the walkout," and the result had been insurrections, one expanding into armed revolt, the other into a civil war whose ravages on several worlds had taken decades to heal.