Inheritor

No one sat endmost to match Ilisidi. But then, no one ranked that high in the Association but the aiji himself.

There was pastry, there was a vegetable course—immense quantities disappeared, which Bren helped, and Jase discovered a vegetable dish he favored, clearly, while it remained a wonder where Ilisidi put the quantities she tucked away; certainly it wasn’t evident on her spare and (for an ateva) diminutive frame.

It must go into sheer energy, Bren decided. For a while there was no discussion, only food, and then the main course arrived, the seasonal fare, which was fish, and a delightful tart berry sauce.

“So,” Ilisidi said, “did you settle your disagreement, you two?”

The woman missed nothing.

“Jas-on-paidhi?”

“Nand’ dowager, I am told not to talk except the children’s language. I apologize for my inability in advance.”

“Oh, risk it. I’m not easily shocked.”

God, Bren thought. “nand’ dowager,” he said. “Jase-paidhi is at a great disadvantage of vocabulary.”

“As the nation heard.” Ilisidi tapped her glass and a servant poured. “Water. Pure spring water. Perfectly safe.—But, do you know, Jase-paidhi, I would have bet against your learning the language so quickly. Yolanda-paidhi, on the island, of course, had no such requirement.”

“No, nand’ dowager.”

“And she’s been turning over the precious secrets—at a greater rate of speed?”

Pitfall, Bren thought and opened his mouth and didn’t dare say a word.

“Not so, I think, if you please, nand’ dowager. Engineering diagrams are the same with both the island and Bren-paidhi.”

“One hears also of sad news from that quarter. One regrets your loss, Jas-on-paidhi.”

Jase ducked his head. “Thank you for your good will, nand’ dowager.”

“And how isnand’ Yolanda? Is she faring well? I get nonews from my reprehensible grandson.”

“I believe she is well, nand’ dowager.”

“You believe she is well.”

Jase looked toward him, disturbed, likely not sure he’d followed her around that corner or used the right word. He had.

“He doesn’t understand, nand’ dowager,” Bren said. And didn’t add, thinking of those illicit radio transmissions, Nor do I.

“Oh, well. How do you find the fish, Jas-on-paidhi?”

“The fish is very good, nand’ dowager.”

“Good.—Such an i

“It’s—a lot like being indoors.”

“Oh, well, boring, then. Give me the open air, I say. Do you like it there?”

“I hope to go back there. When the ship flies, nand’ dowager.”

“And when will that be?”

“I’d say sooner rather than later, aiji-ma,” Bren said, anxious to divert Ilisidi from her stalking and probing for reaction, one damned jab after another. She was noton her best behavior and she was enjoying every second of it.

“Another damned machine roaring and polluting the fields,” Ilisidi said, and had a bite of fish. “Now, one could make a ship to go beneath the sea and see the wonders there. Have you ever thought of that, nand’ paidhi?”

“It could be done,” Bren said, and broke every law on the books.

“You might persuade me to go on a ship like that. I’m less sure about this spaceship. What do you think, nand’ Jase?”

“About what, nand’ dowager? I’m not sure I follow.”

“Do you think I’m too old to fly on your ship?”

“No, nand’ dowager. You ride. I’m sure you could fly.”

“Wise lad. Flattery is the essence of politics. One wondered whether ship-folk are as wise as Mospheirans. Possibly they are.”

“They can learn,” Bren said, before Jase could think of words. “Don’t you say yourself, aiji-ma, that he’s quick?”

“Oh, not so quick as you, nand’ paidhi.”

“One tries, aiji-ma.” It was a fencing match from start to finish. “So what do you have in store for us?”

“A brisk ride, a little outing.—More fish, nand’ paidhi? I’ll assure you simpler fare tomorrow.”

He recalled Ilisidi’s brisk rides and hoped Jase didn’t break his neck. And had the other helping, taking that for a warning.

Jase, fortunately, said nothing. But seemed not to have as great an appetite.

“Well, well,” Ilisidi began.

And of a sudden Banichi, Cenedi, and Jago were simultaneously leaving the benches in a fast maneuver, and Tano and Algini, rising, had guns visible in their hands. So did two of the servants. Something was beeping.

“Perimeter alarm,” Cenedi said, with a slight sketch of a bow toward Ilisidi. And started giving orders to persons unseen in the room.

“Piffle,” Ilisidi said, and rose slowly from the only chair. “What a pest!”

As a gunshot popped somewhere in the distance.

And Cenedi said, after recourse to his pocket com, “One individual. They have him.”

“Him, is it?”

Oh, God, Bren thought with a sinking feeling.

“They haven’t killed him, have they?” Bren asked, and held his breath until Banichi had asked and received an answer.

“No. He flung himself to the ground and surrendered. Quite wisely so, nadi.”

Bren sat down again and had another sip of his drink.

The island of Dur was, he recalled from the map, off the northern coast of the promontory—down a great steep bluff that one would take for a barrier to sensible people. But it was there.

And after witnessing an ungodly persistence in a culture where a young man knew he was risking his life, he had a sinking feeling of a persistence that, measured against a minor air traffic incident, no longer made sense.

17

They were, Banichi said, over the dessert course, questioningthe young man, and would have a report soon.

Jase looked entirely unhappy, and concentrated on the cream pastry with mintlike icing.

Pastries disappeared by twos and threes off atevi plates, and Bren poked at his with occasional glances at Jago, who returned not a look in his direction. Ilisidi had said nothing further; Cenedi wouldn’t. Banichi wasn’t communicating beyond what he’d said.

“The boy is a fool,” Ilisidi said, out of no prior question, and added, “Do you know, lord Geigi invited us fishing, and offered to meet us with his boat on the southern reach by the airport. But I think this silliness may divert us to the north.”

That brought a glance up from Jase, and Bren suffered a turn of the stomach. Nothing at this moment was chance, not Ilisidi’s remark, not the boy’s intrusion into a government reserve, not the mention of lord Geigi, and Bren recalled all too well the radio traffic to the north, which was to the north—of the island of Dur.

Which was not beyond reach of Mogari-nai and the earth station. Which was not beyond reach of the town of Saduri. Which was not beyond reach of the fortress where they were having holiday with a mostly invisible security with pipe and board scaffolding and an excess of dust in the shadows yonder.

Deana Hanks and her damned radio talk.

And her co

Direiso and her cat’s-paw Saigimi, who was now dead, thanks to Tabini?

Direiso, who wished to be aiji in Shejidan, and who was a neighbor to Taiben?

Taiben was not only Tabini’s habitual retreat and ancestral holding, but also the wintering-place for Tabini’s aged and eastern-born grandmother who herself had twice nearly been aiji, but for the legislatures concluding her ascendancy would mean bloody retributions for past wrongs.

Their Ilisidi, their host tonight, sitting demolishing a third cream pastry.

The situation had so many angles one wanted tongs to handle it.

“So,” Jase said, where angels and fools alike feared to tread. “nand’ dowager, but we aregoing fishing?”

Going fishing, Bren thought in disbelief. Going fishing? They had a young man under interrogation for invasion of a perimeter only slightly less touchy than that around Tabini himself, Ilisidi talking about lord Geigi joining them, and Deana Hanks talking to two atevi on radio who were probably Direiso’s agents, and Jase asked were they going fishing?