Inheritor

“Let me recount to you the scene as I left the plant, nadiin, as the goodheartedness of the workers brought a crowd out the doors, brought them carrying flowers toward the cars. When my plane dipped its wing and came about toward Shejidan I saw, beside the cars of my local escort, flowers of the springtime of the peninsula pass beneath us. So, so much generosity of the people, so much care of the vastly important task under their hands and so generous an expression of their belief in their task. Their hope for the future is visible now. Tangible.” They’d edit when bits of this replayed, and after what had been asked, he was careful to give them only positive, felicitously numbered statements. The paidhi did notintervene in atevi internal affairs. That was what they were trying to get him to do, so he played the uninvolved i

A second reporter rose. “Have you authorized, nand’ paidhi, the direct exchange of messages between the island and the ship-paidhi, in your absence?”

What in hell wasthis? A second out-of-line question?

“I have not forbidden it, nadi.”

“Can you, nand’ paidhi, confirm a death in the ship-paidhi’s house?”

There was a leak. There was a serious leak. It smelled of Deana. If he could figure how—and methods including radio did occur to him.

Damn it, he thought. He’d meant to report it, because with servants aware of something, informational accidents could happen, and he didn’t want speculation getting ahead of all the facts he had. But he’d meant to report it afterJase had talked to his mother. The death on the ship implied infelicity.

And he could either shut down the interview right now on these two rude and unauthorized questions on the very plain point that they violated protocol—he could signal his security to create a diversion; or he could handle the problem they’d posed and then loose security on the matter of who’d put them up to it.

“I can,” he said, “confirm, nadiin, that there is such a sad report; as best I am informed, an accident of some nature. I will try to obtain that information for you. But that is not officially a

Sometimes his own callous response to situations appalled him. Atevi would wish to know. Number-counters would wish to know. All sorts of people would wish to know for good and sensible reasons, for superstitious reasons, and just because they were justifiably curious about human behavior.

The next two questions, which he took from the major news services, were routine and without devious intent. How was the space program meeting the engineers’ expectations and was the design translation without apparent error?

“We are developing a set of equivalences between the two languages which render translation of diagrams much easier. We’re dealing with a scale of measurements which has a scale of directly comparable numbers”—Atevi ears always pricked up at that word—“which renders the operation of translation much faster. Atevi engineers are actually able to read human documents where the matter involves written numbers, and to perform calculations which render these numbers into atevi numbers with all the ordinary checks that these skilled persons perform.”

Not of significance for a human audience, but for an atevi audience a real bombshell of religious and philosophical significance. If the universe was rational and numerical, numbers were a direct reflection of its mathematical dependability; numbers could predict, safeguard, direct, and govern. No project would succeed without good numbers; the ship on which the design was based hadflown, the human numbers were therefore good numbers, felicitous numbers, more to the point—since numbers could be felicitous or infelicitous, leading to success or disaster—and to have the news that atevi engineers could make clear sense of human engineering diagrams was the sort of thing that would actually fight with the peninsular assassination and the death on the ship for space on the news, at least briefly. He’d meant to drop that later, but it was capable of knocking Jase’s tragedy right out of the headlines, and that was, coldbloodedly, what he intended.

He answered four or five questions at the limits of his own mathematical ability, and took his leave of the reporters, with the (he said to himself) not unreasonable notion of the leisure to go back to his apartment and work through the translations he had to have ready before—the next duty he had on his agenda—he briefed the aiji’s aides, who had to go to the various departments to present the paidhi’s arguments before—step after that—the paidhi had to go before the off-session legislative aides to answer questions so that when, step three, the legislatures reconvened, they did it with good information before them.

But there was a far more immediate item on his agenda.

“We have a problem,” he said to Banichi as they walked toward the lift, and as the junior security held the curious at bay, out of ordinary hearing. “I don’t know how that information on Jase’s private business got to them, I don’t know whether there’s a leak somewhere, but my own thought was that either there’s a leak on the aiji’s staff—or ours—or that they’re broadcasting that on the news on Mospheira and somebody on the mainland follows enough of the language to pick it out.”

“Such persons who know Mosphei’ that fluently are all official,” Banichi said under his breath, informing him of something he’d wanted to know, and now did.

“There is,” Banichi added, “nand’ Deana.” One was respectful in a public venue, and accorded a name its honorifics, even when one proposed cutting the individual into fish-bait. “And I can tell you, Bren-ji, there has been illicit radio traffic.”

They’d reached the lift. He gave Banichi a sharp, alarmed look.

“How much else don’t I know?”

“Oh, much,” Banichi said. The door opened. “The names of my remote cousins, the—”

“Banichi, my salad, the truth.”

Banichi escorted him inside and delivered an advisement to hall security above that they were coming up. And Banichi gri

“The paidhi is still alive,” Banichi said, “and we keep him that way. But the details are his security’s concern.”

“Not where it regards Hanks!”

“Ah. Humans doproceed to feud.”

“With this woman? Damned right.” The door spat them out into the upper corridor, that with the porcelain bouquets. “Unfortunately the Guild has no offices on Mospheira.—And I need to know this, Banichi-ji.”

“It seemed at the time to involve only atevi, on this side of the strait,” Banichi said, “and Tano and Algini didn’t know. Had Jago and I been here, our rank would have obtained that information for you. Yes, there has been such traffic between Mospheira and the coast, in Ragi, definitively her voice.”

“Nand’ Deana.” Deana, who had had such widespread contact with all the wrong people, until someone had kidnapped her from Shejidan, someone whose identity both Ilisidi and lord Geigi had to this day declined to reveal, nor had he ventured to ask his own staff too closely. The embarrassments of the great houses were a volatile subject.

And when a rival paidhi was at issue, perhaps, he’d decided last of all, they were uncertain how he’d react and whether he’d be able to, in human shorthand, forgivethe atevi responsible.