It might be his imagination. But then again, it might not.
Was he right about the Agbui? Were they more than they claimed? Or less, or maybe just different?
Lakphro had since then looked into the Ascendancy’s official policy on accepting war refugees, and it wasn’t very encouraging. If the Agbui were trying to find somewhere permanent to live, they had a lot of hurdles to jump, and even then the end result was far from assured. They would most definitely not want questions about them being bandied around at this early stage of the process.
So was this sudden generosity Haplif’s way of encouraging Lakphro and his family to keep their mouths shut?
Which, of course, would make it more than just a social obligation. That would make it a bribe.
Lakphro hated bribes. He’d never taken one in his life, and in fact had quit a perfectly good job in his youth when he’d found that a supervisor was taking them. His gut instinct was to bluntly ask the question right here and now, to make Haplif tell him exactly what was going on with him and his so-called cultural nomads.
But he couldn’t. Not while his wife and daughter were gazing at their new prizes with such excitement and happiness. Lakansu had always loved exotic-looking jewelry, and Lakris was clearly following in her mother’s footsteps. Lakphro couldn’t ruin their moment.
Maybe that, too, was the point of the gifts.
“My wife is right,” he said instead. “These are far more than we deserve for anything we’ve done. But if one wants the joy of giving, one must in turn accept the humbleness of receiving, so as to allow others their own joy. You honor us, and we humbly accept your gifts.”
“Thank you,” Haplif said. “I like those words about the joy of giving. Is that a Chiss proverb?”
“I don’t know if it’s anything official,” Lakphro said. “It was something my parents used to say when I didn’t want to accept some gift or favor.”
“I think Chiss in general tend to have a problem with false pride,” Lakansu added, taking her husband’s arm.
“False pride,” Haplif said as if trying out the sound. “What does that mean?”
“There are several shades of meaning,” Lakansu said. “In this case—”
“Hold it,” Lakphro interrupted as the comm on his shoulder band vibrated. “I’ve got a call.” He keyed it on. “Lakphro.”
“Rancher, this is Senior Aide Lakjiip,” the woman’s familiar voice came back. “Do you happen to know where Haplif is?”
“As a matter of fact, he’s right here,” Lakphro said, frowning as he took a step toward the alien. “Haplif, it’s Councilor Lakuviv’s senior aide. She wants to talk to you.”
“Really?” Haplif said, sounding surprised as he took his own step toward Lakphro. “I thought the official visits for this week had ended.”
“Don’t ask me, ask her,” Lakphro said. He started to pull the comm from the shoulder band, remembered just in time Lakuviv’s strict orders that no Chiss technology was to be given to or even handled by any of the aliens. “Speak here—right here—into the comm.”
“Yes, I know.” Haplif leaned toward his shoulder. “This is Haplif of the Agbui.”
“This is Senior Aide Lakjiip,” Lakjiip again identified herself. “A freighter claiming to be from another group of Agbui has entered Celwis space. Do you know anything about it?”
“Nothing specific, Senior Aide,” Haplif said. “It may be here to see if we need assistance, or to gather a share of our spices if we were sufficiently blessed with land and climate to have a surplus.”
“Do you?” Lakjiip asked.
“I believe we can spare some for our brethren,” Haplif said. “They may also be bringing more metal filaments for jewelry production.”
There was just the slightest of pauses. “Which ones?”
Lakphro frowned. Lakjiip’s voice had suddenly gone odd.
“Presumably, all four of those we use,” Haplif said. “Though sometimes we use only two or three. Where are they landing? Perhaps I should first ask if they will be permitted to land.”
“Councilor Lakuviv’s talking with Patriel Lakooni,” Lakjiip said. “But I’m sure she’ll permit it. We’ll have them put down at the main Redhill field. I’ll send a skycar for you.”
“A moment, Senior Aide?” Lakphro put in as a sudden idea occurred to him. “Sending a skycar will take extra time, and freighters are often on a tight schedule. If you’d like, I’d be more than happy to bring Haplif to you and the Agbui ship and then bring him back here.”
“There’s really no need for that,” Haplif said, his voice now also subtly changed. “I’m sure you have work to do.”
“My wife and daughter can easily handle things for a few hours,” Lakphro said. “Besides, you’ve been so generous and kind to us that it’s the least I can do.”
“I have no objection,” Lakjiip said. “Our patrol ships are in contact with them, and as soon as the Patriel gives her authorization Councilor Lakuviv will have them escort the ship to Redhill. Can you be here in an hour or so?”
“No problem, ma’am,” Lakphro said. “I’ll let Haplif go get whatever he needs while I fire up our skytruck.”
“Thank you, Rancher,” Lakjiip said. “We’ll see you soon.” She keyed off.
“Nice day for a flight, anyway,” Lakphro commented, taking a step away from Haplif as he keyed off the comm. “I’ll get the truck and meet you at your ship.”
“Yes, of course,” Haplif said. To Lakphro’s ear he didn’t sound nearly as happy as he had a minute ago when he and Shimkif were handing out jewelry. Maybe he didn’t like accepting favors any more than Lakphro did. “Shimkif and I will collect all the spices we can spare to offer our brethren.”
“Right,” Lakphro said. “I’ll be ready.”
The aliens turned and headed toward the Agbui ship. “You’re really going to go all the way to Redhill?” Lakansu asked, sounding more surprised than annoyed.
“It seemed a reasonable offer,” Lakphro said, trying to sound casual. “There’s something I wanted to talk to the Councilor or senior aide about anyway. Can I see that brooch?”
“It’s not about our yubal assessment again, is it?” Lakansu asked as she handed it over.
“No, no, nothing like that,” Lakphro assured her, peering closely at the jewelry. The thing was quite beautiful, he had to admit, with four different metallic threads weaving in and out of one another like a cross between a hair braid and an ancient wedge harp. “Oh, and would you go pack a travel bag for me? I don’t know any reason why I’d get stuck in Redhill overnight, but it’s always good to be prepared.”
“All right,” his wife said, giving him a slightly suspicious look.
Not without reason, Lakphro had to admit. He’d had his fair share of headbutts with the Councilor’s number-squinters in the past. But today wasn’t going to be one of those. “Thank you,” he called after her as she headed for the house. “Lakris, would you go check on the herd for me, make sure that water spigot didn’t get jammed again?”
“Sure, Dad,” Lakris said, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him in a hug.
“And make sure your lurestick is set on LURE this time,” he added into her shoulder. “The last time you zapped Briscol it took him fifteen minutes to unknot, and he walked funny for two days.”
“Yeah, but none of the others gave me any trouble after that,” she reminded him cheerfully as she pulled back from the hug. “Drive safe.”
“I always drive safe.”
“Except when you drive like a maniac.”
“Which I never do,” Lakphro insisted with mock reproof. “Unless I need to.”
“Well, don’t need to,” she admonished him. “We don’t want our guest screaming out of the truck the minute you hit ground again. Bad for the Ascendancy’s image.”