Destroyer

“Do you comprehend what Lord Geigi is saying, great-grandson?” Ilisidi asked sharply.

“The people were afraid we would never come home and that humans would take the second ship for their own. And humans didn’t pay their fair share, so we would not.”

“Was that wise?”

“No, mani-ma. They were squabbling like children.”

Ilisidi arched an eyebrow and looked at Geigi, who drew a deep breath.

“One would concur,” Geigi said. “We attempted to mediate, to give contracts to Talidi, to help them with their construction, but that was not to Cosadi’s liking. She raised the issue of regional funding to gain political advantage for her point of view. No budget reduction would satisfy them. Nor would any word granting us sole possession of an unfinished ship, since that would not get us supply of certain necessary components from Mospheira, which had just reduced their budget. Your father was at a difficult pass, young aiji, and was attempting to negotiate across the delicate division of interests. Clearly there was no good intent among the Talidi or the Kadigidi.”

“And the Atageini?” asked Ilisidi.

“One has no idea, from this remove, what Lord Tatiseigi is doing. We have no word out of the mainland, only what we gather from their broadcasts. Most of it is diatribe against Tabini-aiji and praise of Murini’s governance.”

“Disgusting,” Ilisidi said.

Cajeiri turned a burning look on his great-grandmother, close to emotional upset.

“What shall we do, mani-ma?” Cajeiri asked.

“What shall we do?” Ilisidi echoed his question. “What have we done, first? What resources have we, Lord Geigi?”

“At first,” Geigi said, “we concentrated on making our half-built starship mobile, as it is now, though extremely limited in flight. It is armed. If you should have failed to return, if enemies arrived, Ogun-aiji argued, we needed the ship for our defense. But with supply cut off, we had no choice but to turn all our efforts to food. We rationed and stockpiled at first, and now have produced yeasts, in the tanks we do have, while building others. With the ship’s tanks to increase that capacity, we shall not starve. But other tanks and other robots are still under construction, and things proceed slowly. The island, after the budget crisis, is now attempting to build its own shuttle and lengthen the runway at Jackson, which can be done. But done very expensively, and certain parties had rather give that up in favor of a missile defense system against the mainland.”

Distressing in the extreme. “Is Shawn Tyers still presidenta, Lord Geigi?”

“He is. And your return will strengthen his office immensely, nand’ paidhi.”

“Not enough and not soon enough, I fear, to move the legislature to act.”

“We have promised the presidenta if Mospheira puts the shuttle as priority, we shall assure their safety from attack, but there is still great fear. The dissident factions on Mospheira have, I hear, taken to the airwaves with vehement arguments, attacking the authority of the presidenta Tyers, and have gained some following, perhaps much as they had five years ago, so we understand.”

The Human Heritage Party. The snake they’d not quite beheaded.

“And Mercheson?” Yolanda Mercheson, the translator who had taken his place as go-between for Tabini and the station, Yolanda, whose part in these events he very much wanted to hear. “Will she be available to us? Did she even survive?”

“She was caught on the planet, on the mainland, which has been in some measure fortunate. She traveled as far as Mogari-nai and went from there by boat to the island. She has no knowledge, as far as Ogun-aiji has been able to ascertain, regarding the outcome of affairs at Mogari-nai. She was in transit when the Kadigidi forces reached it, and has never reestablished contact with the aiji or his party. She does contact certain resistance forces in the field, but these, regrettably, have diminished or gone into hiding in recent days.”

Not utterly a point of despair, that last. If Tabini had relied on the conviction the ship would return two years from its launch date, and had gone to ground to await that return, his forces would very logically have melted into the earth, to rise again only when he recalled them.

But the opposition would be hunting them in the meanwhile, and hunting them harder than ever now that any telescope on earth could testify that the ship was back.

“Doubtless,” Bren said, “the whole world knows we have returned, nandiin.”

“One has no doubt,” Ilisidi said, and set down her teacup. “Well. And this one shuttle we do have? Is it ready?”

“It is in excellent condition. But there is no landing site safe on the mainland, aiji-ma.”

“The island, then.”

“It may have its own hazards,” Geigi said. “There are large, armed boats out.”

“But we at least approach the island over the western sea, not over the mainland,” Bren said.

“This fuel.” Ilisidi waggled her fingers, as over one of those inconsiderable inconveniences her subordinates might solve.

“There is fuel,” Geigi said. “The shuttle is ready. The crews here have stayed in training, particularly as your return date arrived.”

“Then we shall lose no time,” Ilisidi said.

Were any of them surprised, either at Geigi’s efficiency, the pilots’ dedication, or Ilisidi’s decision? No. Not in the least.

“We shall take the shuttle down,” Ilisidi said, “nand’ paidhi. Immediately. See to it.”

“Jase,” Bren said, on the line to station central via pocket com, while he walked, “the dowager wants to go down on the shuttle. Immediately, she says.”

“Not surprised,” Jase said. “Ogun wants you in his office, meanwhile, politely speaking. Senior captain’s coming aboard for the conference.”

He wasn’t surprised by that, either.

“One hour,” he said. “Can we do that?”

“Ten minutes,” Jase said. “Faster we move, the better. All right.”

He hadn’t even gotten to his own apartment door yet. Banichi and Jago, beside him, had heard it. They all changed course, went over to the lift and punched in new directions. His staff welcome would have to wait. If it ever happened.

Events seemed to blur past, accelerating. He was by no means sure they were doing the right things.

“It would be well,” Banichi said, pushing the lift call button, “if we did hasten this, Bren-ji. Events will surely turn on our arrival, and the conspirators will know by now that the ship is here.”

“One has that idea,” he said. “But, nadiin-ji, we will need to clear our landing with the authorities on Mospheira, we shall need to keep it as quiet as possible, and we have lost Mogari-nai.”

“They are communicating,” Jago said, “by a new installation at Jackson, nandi. So we are told.”

The lift arrived. They stepped in. Pieces had shifted. He could not rely on things being exactly as he had left them, not in any small particular, not after two years, not after general upheaval.

“Can Tano establish contact with Shawn Tyers?” he asked. “I need to talk to him.”

“One will attempt it,” Jago said, and did exactly that, on her pocket com, while the lift set into motion, taking them toward a meeting in the operational center of the station. She spoke with Tano, and waited, and by the time the lift had reached its destination:

“The Presidenta of Mospheira, nandi,” Jago said, and handed him her pocket com, with not even the need to push a button.

“Shawn?”

“Bren?” It was surreal to hear Shawn’s voice, after such incredible distances and events. “Did you do it?”

“We did it, no question.” His own voice wanted to shake, from sheer pent-up tension. He wouldn’t let it. “A lot more to discuss when we have a moment, but right now I’m asking if you can get me urgent landing clearance if we can get down there?”

“No question we can, and I advise it be soon and fast,” Shawn said. “The mainland won’t be an option for your landing, not while this regime is in power. There’s a sort of a navy now. And the more advance warning, the worse and the riskier.”