Inheritor

While a handful of truly devout conspiracy-theorists believed Tabini had known the ship was coming back and that he’d been in collusion with the human president on Mospheira from the day of his accession: a more unlikely combination one couldn’t imagine.

But since the events of today, everythingin that equation had to be re-reckoned.

Not that one expected immediate capitulation in the fall of a major player in the opposition to Tabini today: atevi lords weren’t so graceless or quick to desert former allies. But they might sidle gracefully and as unobtrusively as possible closer to center, and closer to Geigi, who would thus undergo the most dangerous period of his rise in importance, because the neighbors would try him, now. They would test Geigi’s cleverness, his finesse, his business acumen and his personal dignity. It was almost a sure bet that no less than Direiso would, directly or indirectly, test Geigi’s security.

But no one had to tell an atevi lord that.

And since, with the lord of the Tasigin Marid dead, Talidi province, in which the villages of the Marid lay, now found its best customer for industrial supplies in lord Geigi’s province, thatwould surely give the pro-Tabini dissidents and the worker associations within Talidi province the encouragement to turn toward Tabini and the central authority, not toward the coalition that had been trying to form in the Marid.

It was typical of Tabini’s politics. A river would be flowing in one direction, and Tabini would place a charge to divert it so suddenly into another cha

As Direiso up in the Padi Valley (she was not a peninsular lord) had to be doubling her security this evening, perhaps not even yet believing the degree of danger she was in if she didn’t change course fast: she was clever and quick—she was alive because of that. But she was self-confident, meaning she hadno man’chi, meaning she feltno man’chi, as aijiin of highest rank had and felt none, and was not a follower of anyone, but attracted man’chi: thatmeant she was dangerous in a way other atevi weren’t psychologically armed to be.

Her followers were scattered, and wouldact after her death, breaking up into smaller associations difficult to track and possibly attracting others due to the different chemistry of the sub-associations. That was the protection high lords always had against assassination: kill them and you had not one large problem but twenty smaller ones, harder to track.

But so did Tabini have that defense. More so. Direiso only thoughtshe could ride the waves Tabini’s fall would generate. It was a time when atevi, threatened from the skies, could least afford to be indecisive, and most of the lords of the Western Association knew that Tabini was the only leader saving them from civil chaos.

He truly wished the Direiso matter were settled. He didn’ttrust any stated changes of direction or belief on her part. Even if atevi emotion andpolitics made it instinctually natural for her to make such changes, he wouldn’t believe them. He’d never met the woman but he knew he didn’t likeher or any one of her followers.

Another psychological warning flag. Hecouldn’t feel it as natural, hecouldn’t judge in his own blood and bone what was natural for any atevi to do, and he couldn’t help but think how very, very delicately poised the whole of human and atevi survival was right now.

Lose Tabini? There’d be a bloodbath the like of which the world had never seen.

Let the conservatives on Mospheira get out of hand?

Same result.

He was just outright shaken by today’s events. He admitted it to himself finally. He’d been riding a fierce downhill course, and leaping from point to point to point until it was damn well no good mapping out where he’d been: where he’d been didn’t exist any more. There was no going back to the atevi state that had existed, once upon a time. There was no dealing with the government on Mospheira that had sent him. The people he was loyal to hardly had any power left.

The plane was a pure, unheralded, no-damn-reason accident. Near accident. He was safe. So was a very chastened teenager.

His fingers were wrinkling. He had to go out and breathe air again. Problems were not his problems tonight. Supper was waiting. A very fine supper, prepared by a cook who accommodated his needs quite expertly.

He shut the water down and exited into the cooler air outside, wrapped instantly in a thick towel, a comfort and luxury of having servants which he did enjoy; and which by his order to this all-female staff was the job of one of the older, more—motherly—women.

But a blink of water-hazed eyes showed him not a maid who had flung it about him, but Tano, continuing the personal attendance Tano had given him on the trip. He told himself he should decline Tano’s attendance: the man had worked harder today than he had by twice.

On the other hand, since it was Tano, he was able to ask him—

But no, dammit, no. He wasn’t going to ask about the content of the other messages that might be disasters awaiting his return. He’d been near a radio, and within reach of security communications, and his staff (forty-seven secretaries and a skilled supervisor devoted to such problems) would have known how to call him if there were anything amiss, including unreadable foreign language telegrams or phone calls. The one bombshell he’d picked out of the basket he’d chosen precisely because it was a telegram, and by that criterion urgent and newly arrived.

There couldn’t be any more surprises. Peaceful di

He let Tano wrap him in more warmed thick towels, a human vice grown harmlessly popular among atevi, although some still used the traditional sheeting. He accepted an informal and human-sized pair of drawstring trousers, a shirt, and a short, wide-sleeved lounging-robe which was adequate for an intimate di

A shadow turned up in the tiled doorway, along a row of several such showers.

Jase, coatless, dressed in a dark shirt. His dark hair just barely, in half a year, grown long enough to braid, was tied back and still falling loose around his face. The servants would not have let him out of his room without a coat. Or he’d been—troublesome thought—ignoring the servants.

“There you are,” Bren said cheerfully, trying to ignore the glum look Jase gave him. “One wondered about your whereabouts, nadi.”

“I don’t know where else I’d be.” Jase hadn’t spoken in the Ragi language. There was no cheerfulness on his face. But it was a homecoming. One supposed. “How was the trip?”

“Fine,” he said, persisting in Ragi and in cheerfulness. Jase wasn’tsupposed to speak the human language. Jase had agreed to follow the regimen by which he’dlearned: no Mosphei’ at all. “How have you been, nadi-ji?”

“Fine.” Jase switched to Ragi. “I hear there was trouble in the peninsula.”

“Saigimi. Yes. Correct noun choice, by the way.—So you did hear.”

“Not that much,” Jase said. “But the staff was worried.”

“Security was in a little hurry to bring me home. But nothing serious.—And you, nadi-ji? Nothing wrong, I hope.”

A hesitation. And in the human language: “Welcome home.”

Welcome home.

A little edge to that, perhaps. A little irony. Or friendliness. He wasn’t sure. It was a term they’d had to discuss in Mosphei’. Jase hadn’t understood what homewas in relation to thisplanet, one of the myriad of little human concepts that had somehow not made it back from the stars unchanged. Hometo Jase’s original thinking was a world. Homewas Earth. Homewas, equally, an atevi star neither Jase nor his parents had ever seen, to which they’d returned from wherever they’d gone for nearly two hundred years.