Protector

A very small sip of brandy. Geigi had talked a great deal tonight. His voice grew hoarse.

“And that meant the Maudit venture was foreseeably delayed. Then came the counter-proposal: to have shuttlecraft built specifically for Maudit, largely robotized, to deliver cargo and colonists in stages and continue to serve as freighters, followed by the usual infighting: the Mospheiran humans demand Mospheiran piloted craft all under the control of the Alpha station; the Reunion humans want piloted craft controlled by Reunion humans, based at Maudit. The ship-humans are now standing with the Mospheiran humans and have abandoned the robotic option. I have tended to the idea we should vote with the ship-humans and the Mospheirans. But now I think this whole Maudit matter should be reconsidered. These two populations hate each other. I am beginning to think it will lead to trouble nobody will benefit from.”

He had heard about the business. Mospheiran news had reported it. He had had his reports from Geigi. In the Mospheiran press, the Maudit colony had begun to look very much like a dead issue. He had brought it up with Geigi. But when they had talked about it, it had not been in the context of the children’s visit, and something had interrupted the conversation: he could not recall what, at the moment—the assassination attempt in Sarini Province had jarred his attention sharply elsewhere.

“One strongly agrees,” Bren said. “Neither side will keep agreements, Geigi-ji, so long as one group thinks they should rule the other. Maudit will not settle it. It would make it worse.”

“The crisis will come on the station, then,” Geigi said, “and one dislikes to see it. Station-humans are politicking very hard with the ship-humans, to secure a lasting association between them, being space-born humans. I can use their words, but what I am asking, Bren-ji, is whether my interpretation is accurate. We andthe Mospheirans can out-vote the Reunion-humans. But one asks—will Mospheira then break from us at some future date? Are we placing ourselves in the midst of a human quarrel in which human loyalty will dictate some turn we do not foresee?”

There was nothing Bren could say, no reassurance he could give, and Geigi nodded. “It is some human signal I have missed, then.”

“It is not.”

“Which brings us to this business of the children.”

“How so, Geigi-ji?”

“The Reunion-humans who do not want to go to Maudit, the ones who want to stay, use this word assimilation.”

“To become in-clan,” Bren said. “To become one with the Mospheirans. This is what we initially hoped would happen. But the way politics has so readily sprung up, no, not so easily. This is a power struggle. These people have seen a very frightening situation out in space, alone. Fear of being abandoned. Fear and distrust of their leaders—remember that their leaders takepower by having a coalition of supporters. Distrust of the leaders is very possible. There will be a rival set of leaders attempting to gain followers. They will turn to the ship-humans, once they see the Mospheirans will not give them positions of authority. Maudit is an issue—but one they will politicize and argue for years. I suspect the Maudit issue is already dead, though some will not admit it. And as I see it, Mospheirans and ship-humans would be very wise to stay united with atevi.”

“This insanity equals Marid politics.”

“It is not that different. Except that among these humans there are no clans. There will be a committee in charge, and you will see a great deal more milling about than atevi will do. Let me guess now. The children’s parents are in this number who want assimilation.”

“Yes. Precisely. Three of them seem not so enthusiastic about their children being guests here, and one of those three, oldest of the boys, named Bjorn, aged thirteen, is now in an advanced training program—he is very bright, and has real prospects. His mother is very reluctant to see him give that up, since he might risk dismissal, should he accept the young gentleman’s invitation. The questions of the parents of the other two boys were reportedly about safety and supervision, which seems a natural thing. In the case of the girl Irene, however—I have this from the ship-humans—her mother has been fearful and suspicious of atevi. She was embarrassed by Irene’s meetings with the young gentleman on the ship, and was strongly against any association. I have been warned of this. Yet at a certain point she personally brought a set of letters which she said shehad withheld, and was very polite, if highly nervous. One is suspicious that these letters are of recent composition. They lack the historical references of the others. And yes, we have read them.”

“One would not fault that at all, Geigi-ji.”