Conspirator

Atevi who stood against the establishment of a wireless network argued about clan and Guild prerogatives, but even they little visualized what it would do to the social fabricc it was as basic as the decision whether to have a network of highways, or to have a network of rail. The one, with unregulated movement, would have utterly upset the associations that were the very fabric of civilization. Rail managed not to. And upset the mode of communication that preserved clan authority? Make it possible for anybody to call anybody at any time and withoutgoing through the household? Unthinkable.

The Assassins’ Guild had more grasp of the situation than anyone—the Assassins’ Guild andthe Messengers’ Guild were both on the paidhi’s side in the debate. The Trade Guild and Transport Guild both saw advantages in the proposed technology and wanted it on a limited basis, for themselves. The Academics’ Guild stood against, except that they wanted the now-limited computer network to include their research, and libraries.

Greed was not exclusively a human vicec and everybody was willing to accept damage for somebody else’s venue to benefit their own. Fortunately the Assassins’ Guild was a very, very potent Guild, and generally was listened to—out of dread, if nothing else. The paidhi held out hope that, if he could prevail, it would be thanks to the Assassins’ Guild this time; and if he didn’t—and if this one got past him—

God, the consequent damage could wipe out everything, absolutely every good thing he’d ever tried to accomplish. He could see the aishidi’tat dissolve, right when it was most necessary the world be stable.

At times, since their return from space, he asked himself if he had not already lost control of the flow of technology. He was shocked by the changes. It was as if the floodgates had already opened—as forces for and against the old regime bargained and co

When he’d come back, he’d found himself on Tabini’s side, where he had always been, but Tabini had always stood for human contact, more and more human technology. All sorts of proposals were close to opening the floodgates for good and all, importing everything humans had, including the technology in that starship up there, which would change so, so muchc

It was still the paidhi’s job to say no when it was time to say no.

And if he couldn’t say no to this one and make it stick, maybe it was time the paidhi left the job.

Maybe a new paidhi could do better. But he didn’t know how anybody the University trained could step into the waters now—it had become a rip current, and his own understanding of where they were going had gotten less and less sure.

Maybe the very institution of the paidhi had become outmoded, and humans and atevi actually were far enough along toward unanimity they could find their own way hereafter.

But there were bitter lessons to say that was a dangerous, dangerous assumption ever to make. The paidhi’s office existed because humans and atevi had had another lengthy period of accommodation, right after humans had landed on the planet, and good things had flowed from humanity and everybody had just lovedtheir new friendsc

Or that was what humans had thought, right before atevi (as humans saw it) went berserk and launched the War of the Landing.

From the atevi point of view, humans had damned near wrecked civilization, and in fact, they nearly had.

So it wasn’t safe to start thinking everything could roll along on its own. That, at least once upon a time, had been the point of absolutely terrible danger.

He just didn’t have the vision of the future he’d used to have. It was all dark up ahead, and he couldn’t see. He’d lost touch with Mospheira: the island of Mospheira, where he’d been born, where he’d grown up, was a place where he was no longer comfortablec where the ties he had left were all official ones, political alliesc

Except Toby and his household.

Household, was it?

He hadn’t even been thinking in Mosphei’ just now. He’d been thinking in Ragi. That was how it was. He couldn’t remember his brother’s face when he was apart from him. Toby belonged to a different world, where people came with different features, spoke differently, felt differently, hadn’t a clue what went on in his head, and didn’t understand why touching another person was justc something he didn’t do anymore.

Hell.

He was losing his grip, was what. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Toby at the moment. He was outright flinching from the thought.

He’d pitied his predecessor, Wilson, who had just gotten odder and odder. Wilson had quit the post once his aiji, Valasi, had died, and when Valasi’s son, Tabini, had been a few weeks in the aijinate. Wilson couldn’t deal with the change in regimes, and he’d retired to the university on Mospheira, saying Tabini was a future problemc

So one Bren Cameron had taken over the post, young, bright, academic ace, the onlyhuman, at the time, to master the mathematical intricacies of court Ragic Wilson himself had never been fluent; had never ventured far from his dictionary, and, God, researched every official utterancec

He’d rapidly been better than Wilson. More reckless than Wilson.

Now he had to ask himself which language he was thinking in.

Now he routinely limited his human impulses and curtailed his human instincts, shaping himself into something elsec

A good talent, up to a point. He didn’t know if he’d passed that point. Maybe he’d passed it somewhere in that voyage, when they’d all gone out to get a human station removed from where it had no right to bec

Maybe his usefulness to the world had become something else out there. Maybe he didn’t belong on the planet anymore, down in its web of intrigues, plots, and politics. Much as it would hurt—much as it would hurt people he cared about— maybe it might be better if he told Shawn his disco

If he couldn’t stop this wireless phone business—God knew, maybe he should go back up to the station and live there, where the view was panoramic and the associations were all knowable and limited.

Represent the aiji to the station-humans. That wasn’t a small job.

It wasn’t what he emotionally wanted. He’d put down roots here on the mainland. Deep ones. But if he was becoming inconvenient to the very things he was trying to savec

Damn. He was losing himself. He was scared, was what.

And in that sense, Tatiseigi’s return was extremely inconvenient: he’d wanted uninterrupted time to prepare his arguments and gather data. He almost wished he didn’thave to deal with Toby. He needed his mind on business: it was a critical issue. He needed to stop this wireless business once for all.

But Toby wouldn’t overstay. Neither, for that matter, would Barb.

God.

Barb.

No. No. Not a good thing to go into their visit anticipating trouble. The last meeting had been uncomfortable, to say the least—finding an old and troublesome relationship had now ricocheted to one’s divorced brother was, yes, uncomfortable for everybody. But if the paidhi-aiji could negotiate affairs between people bent on killing each other, he surely could find a way to get through a week up close with Barb.