Protector

She brought back a letter, to the table where they were working, and it was not a regular letter, but one in a plain steel cylinder with just the Messengers’ Guild crest stamped in it, and dented and scuffed as this sort of cylinder often was. It was so odd for him to get such a letter that Antaro insisted on opening it herself, just to be sure.

It was machine-printed, because it had come down from orbit, from Lord Geigi himself.

“To me?” he asked, but he could see it was. A letter directly to him—and saying that his associates from the station were all coming on the next shuttle. Bjorn could not come, but Irene could. And that was the tightest group of them, Gene, Artur, Irene, and him, even if they were an infelicitous number, they had Bjorn sometimes, for a fortunate fifth.

The shuttle was coming early.

Electricity could wait. He had to tell his father immediately, even if he was sure it was not the only letter from Geigi that would have come to the door. If he hadreceived any information his father had not, he had to be prompt in reporting it, and just—proper. He had to be absolutely proper. Proper about everything. And not offend anybody. It was really happening.

His birthday was still days away, and they were coming early and they would have two weeks or however long it took them to service the shuttle before they could go back up to space.

It was happening, it was happening, it was happening.

He put on a better coat, to show respect, and he took himself and his aishid straight to his father’s office door.

“Honored Father,” he said, when he was let in. “I have a letter from Lord Geigi, addressed to me. He says my guests are coming! And the shuttle is coming early.”

His father had a serious, even frowning expression. He realized he had interrupted his father at work, reading his own mail. Maybe coming quite so fast was not such a good idea after all.

Or maybe there was something really the matter.

“We are aware,” his father said, in a flat tone, and he thought it wise just to bow and back out of the room.

“Excuse me, honored Father.”

“The legislature is in session. The tribal bill, nefariously diverted into a conservative-dominated committee, has run into opposition, and your great-grandmother is now asking me to get a letter from the six highland clans giving their support. These six clans cannot agree with each other. How shall I persuade them?” His father pushed back from the desk with an annoyed expression on his face. “Against these other problems, do you truly have a concern, son of mine?”

“Honored Father, only to inform you.”

“Properly so.”

“One would wish—”

“You are about to ask me for permission to go out to the spaceport.”

“One would hope—”

“You will be lodged in your great-grandmother’s care during that visit. What she does I am sure will be out of my hands, so you will have to arrange that with her.”

“One is grateful, honored Father.” It was good news. It was wonderful news.

His father’s expression grew less angry. Slowly.

“You have given no thought, yet,” his father said, “as to where to lodge your early guests before and after. Do you propose to put them into the guest quarters here? Or in your small suite? I do not think that would be the best idea.”

“Honored Father.” He bowed. No, he had not thought about where he was going to put them. He had been trying to think how he could take them to interesting things, or any of those matters. “One thought some things would be planned by staff.”

“My staff is busy. Staff in general is greatly reduced, your mother is having nerves, and a set of foreign children crowded into the guest quarters and trooping through the sitting room will not improve her mood. How will cook accommodate them? How will staff inquire about their needs? One assumes they are no more tolerant of sauces than is nand’ Bren.”

“Perhaps—” He cast about desperately for an answer. “Perhaps nand’ Bren will help. He has a guest room. His cook understands about humans.”

His father hooked one arm about the side of his chair. “A reasonable suggestion. Undoubtedly nand’ Bren will have to assist. So will your great-grandmother be fully capable of handling details. Do not distress yourself, son of mine. I have thought about these things. And the logistics of the festivity itself. One only wondered whether you had in fact devoted any thought at all to the practical matters in this visit. Jase-aiji grew quite ill when he simply looked out over a flat surface. He had all manner of difficulty with dizziness.”

He had not thought about that. He could look like a fool. He was very anxious not to misstep and make his father think he was a fool.

“If I can write to them, I can warn them, honored Father.”

“Your great-grandmother will be in communication with nand’ Bren, son of mine. I am sure he will foresee a great many of the difficulties. Go enjoy the day.”

“Honored Father.” He bowed and started for the door.