Read Online Protector: Foreigner #14 by C.J. Cherryh - Free Book Online
Authors: C.J. Cherryh
Ads: Link
nadi-ji,” Bren said to Supani and Supani bowed and stood aside.
Geigi said quietly, “A moment of conversation, Bren-ji.”
“My office,” Bren said, and weary as he was, came quite, quite awake. It was nothing casual that brought a request to talk at this hour. He was sure of that.
He led the way into his small office and shut the door when they were inside. “Is it a one-pot problem, Geigi-ji? Or would you wish another brandy?”
“Tea would not help my sleep and the other would hasten it too much, Bren-ji. What I have to say is fairly brief. But you should hear it.”
“Indeed.” He gestured Geigi to a sturdy chair, and took its mate, at the side of the office. “I am listening.”
“The children. The young gentleman’s guests. And station politics,” Geigi said. “I have attempted twice to explain to the aiji. I have postponed saying anything to trouble you, in the notion that I would have the chance to speak to the aiji tonight. I did so. He has promised the young gentleman his festivity. You should know I argued against it.”
“Against
it,” Bren said. Geigi was the one who had conveyed the children’s messages, who had acted as intermediary in setting up the forthcoming encounter.
“The children the young gentleman knew on the ship,” Geigi said, “are, you recall, from Reunion.” Geigi cast a look at the side table, where a brandy service did reside. “I think I will have that brandy, if you will. But none of the staff to serve it, Bren-ji.”
“No need to trouble them,” Bren said, and got up and poured a small dose apiece, not that they either one had much capacity left.
Geigi took a sip, shut his eyes—composing his thoughts. Bren waited, not expecting good news.
The station’s politics—and mention of Reunion in connection with Cajeiri’s birthday guests—was not a well-omened beginning.
There resided an infelicitous
four
distinct populations currently on the space station. There were the ones atevi called the ship-humans, who had lived their whole lives aboard
Phoenix.
The ship had been absent from the world for centuries, and on its return had opened up the mothballed station and made contact with the planet.
The human enclave, centuries settled on the isle of Mospheira, were descendants of colonists who had come down from the space station, some to get freedom from the station authority, and the rest because the ship had left them and the station had lost so much population it could no longer sustain its operations. With the ship’s return, humans from Mospheira had reoccupied the station. That was the
second
population aboard.
But humans had not come up to the station alone. Atevi had come with them, the
third
population, thanks to Tabini-aiji’s insistence on an atevi space program—and the fact that most of the necessary resources to build a shuttle operation were on the continent, and not on Mospheira. In return for materials and items the ship-humans sorely wanted from the world, which the vast continent could supply, Tabini had demanded an atevi share of the station, the building of an atevi starship and the training of atevi crew . . . in short, a piece of everything going—an instant leap from an earthbound civilization that believed shuttles would puncture the atmospheric envelope and let all the air escape—to awareness of the whole solar system and the galaxy beyond it. Starflight. Operation translight.
It had all come as a shock to traditional beliefs on the continent—and a shock to human perceptions of their situation as an earthly island expecting invasion from the mainland. The aftershocks were still rumbling through the world. But the agreement had worked for everyone—until the ship-humans finally decided to contact the colonists
they
had left at their former base of operations, at Reunion Station, light years removed from Alpha Station and the world of the atevi.
Another species had taken exception to the human presence in that remote
Geigi said quietly, “A moment of conversation, Bren-ji.”
“My office,” Bren said, and weary as he was, came quite, quite awake. It was nothing casual that brought a request to talk at this hour. He was sure of that.
He led the way into his small office and shut the door when they were inside. “Is it a one-pot problem, Geigi-ji? Or would you wish another brandy?”
“Tea would not help my sleep and the other would hasten it too much, Bren-ji. What I have to say is fairly brief. But you should hear it.”
“Indeed.” He gestured Geigi to a sturdy chair, and took its mate, at the side of the office. “I am listening.”
“The children. The young gentleman’s guests. And station politics,” Geigi said. “I have attempted twice to explain to the aiji. I have postponed saying anything to trouble you, in the notion that I would have the chance to speak to the aiji tonight. I did so. He has promised the young gentleman his festivity. You should know I argued against it.”
“Against
it,” Bren said. Geigi was the one who had conveyed the children’s messages, who had acted as intermediary in setting up the forthcoming encounter.
“The children the young gentleman knew on the ship,” Geigi said, “are, you recall, from Reunion.” Geigi cast a look at the side table, where a brandy service did reside. “I think I will have that brandy, if you will. But none of the staff to serve it, Bren-ji.”
“No need to trouble them,” Bren said, and got up and poured a small dose apiece, not that they either one had much capacity left.
Geigi took a sip, shut his eyes—composing his thoughts. Bren waited, not expecting good news.
The station’s politics—and mention of Reunion in connection with Cajeiri’s birthday guests—was not a well-omened beginning.
There resided an infelicitous
four
distinct populations currently on the space station. There were the ones atevi called the ship-humans, who had lived their whole lives aboard
Phoenix.
The ship had been absent from the world for centuries, and on its return had opened up the mothballed station and made contact with the planet.
The human enclave, centuries settled on the isle of Mospheira, were descendants of colonists who had come down from the space station, some to get freedom from the station authority, and the rest because the ship had left them and the station had lost so much population it could no longer sustain its operations. With the ship’s return, humans from Mospheira had reoccupied the station. That was the
second
population aboard.
But humans had not come up to the station alone. Atevi had come with them, the
third
population, thanks to Tabini-aiji’s insistence on an atevi space program—and the fact that most of the necessary resources to build a shuttle operation were on the continent, and not on Mospheira. In return for materials and items the ship-humans sorely wanted from the world, which the vast continent could supply, Tabini had demanded an atevi share of the station, the building of an atevi starship and the training of atevi crew . . . in short, a piece of everything going—an instant leap from an earthbound civilization that believed shuttles would puncture the atmospheric envelope and let all the air escape—to awareness of the whole solar system and the galaxy beyond it. Starflight. Operation translight.
It had all come as a shock to traditional beliefs on the continent—and a shock to human perceptions of their situation as an earthly island expecting invasion from the mainland. The aftershocks were still rumbling through the world. But the agreement had worked for everyone—until the ship-humans finally decided to contact the colonists
they
had left at their former base of operations, at Reunion Station, light years removed from Alpha Station and the world of the atevi.
Another species had taken exception to the human presence in that remote
Similar Books
