Inheritor

On that simple assurance—and only the atevi gods knew how Tabini’s ca

That kind of rapid agreement had never accelerated any otherprogram on record. No one had made anything of that fact in his hearing, but in his view it was a revolution in atevi philosophy as extreme as FTL, and almost as scary. One almost guessed that lives had been threatened or that somewhere in secret meetings the usual people who stood up and objected to the numbers had been urgently hushed. Tabini wantedthis project and if atevi didn’t have it, then the numbers of atevi fortunes might turn against them, indeed.

They’d lightened and widened the seats to accommodate atevi bodies, but to keep, as atevi put it, the harmony of successful numbers, they’d varied no other parameter, and the sum of mass was the same, figuring in that atevi simply weighed more than humans. Atevi would simply have to duck their heads, sit closer, and deal with the comfort factor once they’d become comfortable with spaceframe design.

There was even (to the absolute consternation of certain elements on Mospheira, he was sure) smug discussion of selling passenger slots to humans, if the diplomatic details could be worked out. Some human factions, it had been reported, likedthat idea, as a way to have spaceflight without a sudden increase in taxes.

Others, Shawn had said in his last conversation, liked it because it so enraged the conservatives of the Human Heritage Society. The Foreign Affairs office had probably sent up balloons and blown horns when, eight weeks ago, he’d translated to the President the aiji’s offer of selling seats; and George Barrulin’s phones had probably melted on his desk.

The catwalk quaked as lord Geigi, having been delayed momentarily in conversation on the level below, came up the steps, followed by the rest of the lords and officials. Their respective security perso

Stood out, child-sized, against the silver-studded black leather of Tano and Algini, who represented the power of the atevi head of state.

Stood out, in the many-buttoned and knee-length coat of court fashion, and in the distinctive white ribbon incorporated in his braid: the paidhi’s color, the man of no house. Tabini had told him he should choose colors, as he had to have something recognizable for formal presentations; and Ilisidi herself had said white would do very well with his fair hair, show his independence from the black and red of the aiji’s house—and offend no one.

He glowed, he was well aware, like a pale neon sign to any sniper in the recesses behind those floodlights.

But count on it: there’d been a thorough security search before he entered the building and one last night, a search not only by his security, with an interest in keeping him alive; but also by lord Geigi’s, interested in keeping their lord alive and in keeping any of lord Geigi’s enemies from embarrassing him in an attack on the paidhi.

He knew for that reason that he was an inconvenience to the plant workers, who’d had to pass meticulous security to get to work this morning.

But the paidhi, personally sent by the aiji in Shejidan,was making a gesture of public support such as atevi politics absolutely demanded. The workers would see it. Atevi interested in Geigi’s fortunes would witness another indication of Geigi’s rescue from economic ruin and his subsequent rise to prominence and economic power in his region.

And standing where he was the paidhi only hoped all Geigi’s people were loyal. Tano and Algini might well have been drinking antacids by the bottleful since he’d set down at the airport, and declared he’d sleep in Geigi’s house, and now at the plant manager’s urging he’d agreed to walk up on this exposed platform. Even they, however, had to admit that the odds of treachery from Geigi were practically nil and that the odds that Geigi would have loyalty from his own people were high. From the atevi point of view Geigi’s numbers were still in active increase and therefore a problem in the atevi version of calculus.

Besides, no one had tried to file Intent on the paidhi’s life in, oh, at least a month.

That was what the analysts in the aiji’s court called acceptable riskin making this stop on his tour in the first place. The professionals guarding him while he was in the district making such spontaneous gestures he was sure had other words for it.

“Splendid effort,” he declared to lord Geigi. “I’m truly amazed at the progress. I’m absolutely amazed. So will the aiji be.”

“Nand’ Borujiri,” lord Geigi said, “has worked very hard.”

“Nand’ Borujiri.” He inclined his head to acknowledge that worthy gentleman, director of Patinandi Aerospace, who despite physical frailty had accompanied him up to the highest catwalk, followed by the lords of townships within lord Geigi’s association in Sarini Province. “I shall convey your recommendations to the aiji. Absolutely splendid organization. One would wish to render appreciation to all the persons responsible.”

“Nand’ paidhi,” Borujiri said, moving slowly, not only because of age but also a long illness. “My monument, this work. I am determined it will be that. I have dedicated a portion of my estate to the recreation of the workers who will entitle themselves in this effort. And such an effort our people have made!”

“Everything here is in shifts,” lord Geigi interposed. “Nothing stops for night. And quality control, nand’ paidhi, meticulous quality control.” A horn sounded several short bursts, a signal for attention; Bren and his trigger-ready security had been advised in advance, and lord Geigi rested hands on the catwalk rail looking out over the vast assembly area. “Nadiin-ji! The paidhi commends your work and your diligence! Attention, if you please, to the paidhi-aiji!”

He grew used to such addresses. But reporters dogged him: there were reporters below who would carry what he said to the news services, reporters who, because of the major transportation lines, were in greater abundance here than in his last two, more rural, stops.

“Nadiin,” he called out to the upturned faces and himself leaned on the forbidden railing. “You have exceeded ambitious expectations and set high standards, highstandards, in work on which brave atevi will rely for their lives in space. But more than that—” It was in truth a beautiful sight in front of him, those pieces. Though for the reporters’ sakes, he tried to provide variety in his speeches and at the same time to keep them brief, he suddenly meant to say somethingdifferent than he’d said before on such tours. In the presence of old Borujiri and lord Geigi, in this first time that he could allow himself to believe there wasa spacecraft, and in the enthusiasm of engineers and ordinary workers who had foregone vacations and ignored quitting times to advance the work—he felt his inspiration.

“More than that, nadiin-nai, high standards in a work unprecedented in the history of the world. Plates of steel may make a sailing ship. But when it takes to the waves, when hands at work make that ship a living creature, then it binds all that ship’s makers and all who ever sail aboard that ship in an association that reaches to every shore that ship touches. Your hands and your efforts are building a ship to carry the hopes of all the world, nadiin! The work of your hands, the vision of your director, the wisdom of your lords, and the courage of atevi who will ride this ship will reach out to new things in the heavens, and draw the heavens and all their possibilities into your arms. The aiji in Shejidan will receive my report of you as extraordinary and dedicated workers, and I do not doubt you will remain in his mind at the next seasonal audience, at which lord Geigi and nand’ Borujiri inform me and permit me to inform you they will sponsor a representative from each shift at their own expense. My congratulations, nadiin, I need not offer you! You have distinguished yourselves and brought credit to your province, your district, your endeavor! Hundreds of years from now atevi will tell the story, how willing hands and the skill of such builders carried atevi into space on their own terms and in their own right!”