life, but the alliance that she offered him against the Guild renegades—perhaps because he saw that the scales were rapidly tipping toward the dowager as a powerbroker, and he had her offer dangling in front of him.
Machigi had, damn him, likely done at least half the things he was accused of.
So did they waste time in investigating what he
had
done, or proceed as the letter said, from a fresh start based on what its creator clearly said was a fabrication?
And might not be a fabrication at all, only a truth cast in the most defiant way possible.
Deal with me, but do not debate me. I shall not answer your questions.
At times being human was a real difficulty in dealing with atevi politics.
Algini said, having read the letter, “He is taking the advice of his bodyguard.
Good.”
He didn’t read the second letter, the one addressed to Ilisidi, which was sealed with the wax seal of the Taisigin Marid. He did worry about it.
He had a drink of fruit juice from the well-appointed galley on the bus, then settled down in the quiet his aishid afforded him and began to work on his notes for the upcoming report to Tabini-aiji.
His brother Toby and Barb had sailed for Port Jackson, worrisome in the weather, but they were good, experienced sailors. They’denjoy the storm that had swept across. That was Toby’s attitude.
Najida was about to undergo a major renovation in addition to the repairs. He’d asked an architect to design a new wing, from his sketches. Getting the main hall in order was a priority. He’d promised a wedding venue to a village girl, in payment for a dress, and that promise, among others, had to be kept.
Cajeiri was presumably safely back in his parents’ care and not apt to leave it until they let their guard down, which would not be soon.
And the Edi were busy staking out the ground where they would build a new center, on land donated by Lord Geigi out of his estate lands. A new Grandmother Stone would go up there, marking something very, very important to the Edi people.
Jago came up the aisle to say they had just heard from Lord Geigi, in fact: Lord Geigi had wanted to be notified when they were headed for the airport—which meant, diplomatically speaking, when they had gotten safely away from Tanaja with everything in order, and knew that they were getting out in one piece. Geigi had been just a little worried about the visit.
“Lord Geigi wishes you a safe flight, Bren-ji, and will see you in Shejidan.”
“Thank you, Jago-ji.”
Guild was talking to Guild, routine exchange of information. The bus had long-range communications that let them do that.
He
couldn’t use it…not being Guild. For a brief while during the last mess, he’d thought fondly of having modern communications installed on the bus. He’d come out to the west coast to do a little work on a bill to allow cell phones, which were all the rage over on Mospheira—to allow them at least in limited general application on the continent. It was his job, among others, to oversee the surrender of human tech to the aishidi’tat, by terms of the treaty that had settled the War of the Landing—
But just occasionally, when such a release of technology was proposed, it was his job to say a firm no.
He had bled over the lack of personal communications on that last mission. And much as he had wanted a phone—he had to admit it would have made matters worse.
The traditionalists among atevi were all up in arms over the impending bill…which had been scheduled to be a main feature of the upcoming legislature. It was a given in all the reports that the paidhi-aiji was going to support it. Numerous people wanted it, not remotely concerning what it meant but sure it was going to be important and modern. The Messengers’ Guild was interested but dubious. But more to the point,
Tabini
wanted it.
Where it regarded introduction of human tech to the mainland, the paidhi-aiji had an absolute, though rarely used, veto, and the aiji would
Machigi had, damn him, likely done at least half the things he was accused of.
So did they waste time in investigating what he
had
done, or proceed as the letter said, from a fresh start based on what its creator clearly said was a fabrication?
And might not be a fabrication at all, only a truth cast in the most defiant way possible.
Deal with me, but do not debate me. I shall not answer your questions.
At times being human was a real difficulty in dealing with atevi politics.
Algini said, having read the letter, “He is taking the advice of his bodyguard.
Good.”
He didn’t read the second letter, the one addressed to Ilisidi, which was sealed with the wax seal of the Taisigin Marid. He did worry about it.
He had a drink of fruit juice from the well-appointed galley on the bus, then settled down in the quiet his aishid afforded him and began to work on his notes for the upcoming report to Tabini-aiji.
His brother Toby and Barb had sailed for Port Jackson, worrisome in the weather, but they were good, experienced sailors. They’denjoy the storm that had swept across. That was Toby’s attitude.
Najida was about to undergo a major renovation in addition to the repairs. He’d asked an architect to design a new wing, from his sketches. Getting the main hall in order was a priority. He’d promised a wedding venue to a village girl, in payment for a dress, and that promise, among others, had to be kept.
Cajeiri was presumably safely back in his parents’ care and not apt to leave it until they let their guard down, which would not be soon.
And the Edi were busy staking out the ground where they would build a new center, on land donated by Lord Geigi out of his estate lands. A new Grandmother Stone would go up there, marking something very, very important to the Edi people.
Jago came up the aisle to say they had just heard from Lord Geigi, in fact: Lord Geigi had wanted to be notified when they were headed for the airport—which meant, diplomatically speaking, when they had gotten safely away from Tanaja with everything in order, and knew that they were getting out in one piece. Geigi had been just a little worried about the visit.
“Lord Geigi wishes you a safe flight, Bren-ji, and will see you in Shejidan.”
“Thank you, Jago-ji.”
Guild was talking to Guild, routine exchange of information. The bus had long-range communications that let them do that.
He
couldn’t use it…not being Guild. For a brief while during the last mess, he’d thought fondly of having modern communications installed on the bus. He’d come out to the west coast to do a little work on a bill to allow cell phones, which were all the rage over on Mospheira—to allow them at least in limited general application on the continent. It was his job, among others, to oversee the surrender of human tech to the aishidi’tat, by terms of the treaty that had settled the War of the Landing—
But just occasionally, when such a release of technology was proposed, it was his job to say a firm no.
He had bled over the lack of personal communications on that last mission. And much as he had wanted a phone—he had to admit it would have made matters worse.
The traditionalists among atevi were all up in arms over the impending bill…which had been scheduled to be a main feature of the upcoming legislature. It was a given in all the reports that the paidhi-aiji was going to support it. Numerous people wanted it, not remotely concerning what it meant but sure it was going to be important and modern. The Messengers’ Guild was interested but dubious. But more to the point,
Tabini
wanted it.
Where it regarded introduction of human tech to the mainland, the paidhi-aiji had an absolute, though rarely used, veto, and the aiji would
Similar Books
