Tracker (38 page)

“You have no right to be here. No right! The same two captains who set up this situation come in here and quarrel with my staff, second-guess my orders.
Sabin
is the reason we have this situation. Sabin is the
last
person who ought to be directing anything to do with this! And you've been right there with them!”

“I'm sure Captain Ogun makes command decisions, sir, within the Captains' Council. I don't. The President of Mospheira has asked me to represent Mospheiran interests in the negotiations, and I will do that.”

“Get out of my office!”

“Listen to me. This is in no wise Sabin's fault. From the moment we entered Reunion space, the kyo, already sitting there, watching the station, had absolute ability to track the provenance of the ship. They used the station for bait. They were waiting to see what humans would do. Our choice in this last encounter was to communicate. And they responded. Our choice now needs to be to communicate. We need to take up the conversation we left off at Reunion, and demonstrate that we have no ambitions to be a problem to the kyo. I am exceedingly sorry that we could not have had this conversation between ourselves in advance and in detail, but we could not guarantee the security of communication within the station prior to our arrival, and we had no wish to generate panic aboard the station. The information was held within ship command. We've done our planning through ship channels until we docked here, and you can ask Captain Ogun to confirm the nature of it.”

“No.”

“Mr. Tillington. Stationmaster Tillington. The Presidential envoy is arriving to make decisions on the Mospheiran situation. The envoy will take charge of Mospheiran operations, and what your own relations may be with that person is for you to determine. I would advise cooperation.”

“Tell that to Braddock and the Reunioners!”

“I intend to.”

“Fine. Then start there. And get the hell out of my office!”

“Stationmaster Tillington.”

“These
are the people that started the whole problem.
These
are the people that we couldn't live with.
These
are the people that stirred up trouble with God knows who out there, and now we're all in danger!”

“Let me inform you officially, sir, that the Reunioners
are
going to be removed from the station and resettled as soon as possible. But that is a future we cannot visit until we have dealt with this crisis.”

That caught Tillington's attention.
“Removed.”

“Removed, sir.”

Sharp attention. “Is that what these visitors want?”

“I don't think so. Out there, they had the Reunioners at any time they wanted them. I doubt they want them, or you, in any sense.”

“So what
do
they want?”

“Likely to find out what we are, what we wanted in building in an area they consider their territory, and whether we're a threat.”

“So
then
they attack us.”

“If they do, frankly, sir, we'll be in a lot of trouble, because
we
have no weapons.”

That brought a shocked look.

“We don't,” Bren said. “They
do.
So I suggest diplomacy as a solution. Cooperation.”

“Tell that to Braddock!”

“Stationmaster Tillington, I
want
to do something about Braddock. I can't do it while the Reunioners are in a state of distrust and panic.”

“It's their
fault, dammit!”

“I'm not debating you on the matter, Mr. Tillington. And fault is nowhere in my list of considerations. I need one thing from the Mospheiran establishment. Quiet. I agree that the aishidi'tat and Mospheirans have a treaty. I agree that, excepting the ship, which is its own authority, this station and
any
station must be equally divided between Mospheiran occupants and atevi. I agree that the Reunioner presence puts that out of balance. I agree that station occupants should pass screening. We are in
complete
agreement on these issues. The aishidi'tat is unwilling to tolerate the population imbalance. The aiji will also be arguing to a resolution, a rapid one. But we cannot solve it now, and we are not helped by measures that put the Reunioners in fear and discomfort.”

“You don't touch those doors!”

“I agree. I would not have ordered the closure, but now that the doors are shut, this is not the time to try to resolve the problem.”

“I saved the station from riot. And I'll tell you this, Mr. Cameron: if this ship wants the Reunioners handed over I'm not willing for Mospheirans to die to protect them.”

“I doubt the kyo can tell the difference between humans at this point, and I greatly doubt they'd care. We will deal with the Reunioner issue when we get through this. In the interim, I want your agreement, sir. I'd like access to Reunioner records, and I'd like an assurance of adequate supply over there.”

“You're worried about
their
supply. We've had shortages the last whole
year,
Mr. Cameron.”

“I'm aware of that. I'd like to see the records.”

“You'd like. You'd like me to give you what you damned well
know
you've no authority to deal with. I'm not letting you meddle with the Reunioners.”

“I'd like to preserve Mospheiran authority on this station, and not agitate the situation beyond easy remedy.”

“Agitate
the situation? Mr. Cameron, you
agitated
the situation when you picked those three kids to go down to be the aiji's guests! Now they're Reunioner
royalty!
They're a
cause!
Keep the politics quiet? Not give Braddock a platform? We've got politics run amok over there, because they know
those kids
have atevi backing!”

“You have my interest in
that
matter, sir. Is that Mr. Braddock's claim?”

“Of course it is! The
kids.
The damned
kids
get to go down to the planet, the
kids
get themselves a landing spot, and they get the aiji's backing. What do we conclude about
that?
”

If there was a way to construe anything Reunioner as a threat, Tillington seemed determined to find it.

“I'd like to hear your theory, Mr. Tillington. What on earth would Tabini-aiji do with five thousand Reunioners? Understand, I have to get special permission for my
brother
to visit the coast.”

“The kids get in with the aiji's son, the kids get a wedge into the atevi court, and the
Reunioners
get the aiji's backing.”

“Which would do exactly
what,
Mr. Tillington?”

Tillington gave him a surly stare. “I think you can figure it. Five thousand technically adept humans spilling every technological step the aiji wants.”

Well, that was an interesting jump of logic.

“It's very unlikely he would want that. Mospheira
has
the Archive. It's always
had
the Archive. The knowledge has always been down there. We just had a coup on the mainland because the technology necessary to get shuttles up here destabilized the atevi economy, and put pressure on old regional grievances. The last thing on earth Tabini-aiji would want is a flood of humans violating the social rules, which, believe me, are what makes civilization civil down there. And it's damned certain the aiji would not take Mr. Braddock for an advisor. Please appreciate that atevi don't
want
any such intrusion. Atevi don't
want
the whole continent to look like the station corridors. Modernity on the human pattern is not what they want. It's not what they ever want.”

“Geigi does well enough having his little kingdom up here.”

“Geigi does his job up here out of loyalty. He had rather have his fruit orchards and his antiques. He had rather go sailing. No, sir, your scenario does not apply. Tabini-aiji has no desire to let these children establish residency.”

“Tell that to Braddock. He's raised expectations. Mightily.”

“I wish he had not. Which is not to the point, Mr. Tillington. What is to the point—is that we cannot shape the encounter with the kyo around Mr. Braddock or the Reunioner issue, which I am relatively sure plays no part in what the kyo want here. What we need most is
your
cooperation.”

“Fine. Then get your people out of my office.”

The man had one theme.

“I still am asking, Mr. Tillington, to be assured we don't have a crisis developing while we're occupied with the kyo. I want to know that supplies are flowing, that we
have
communication within the Reunioner . . .”

“No.”

“A little cooperation, Mr. Tillington.
Where
is Mr. Braddock?”

“Somewhere in 23.”

“Where are the children?”

“Hell if I know. In 24. Mostly.”

“Mostly.”

“The girl's in 23.”

“I take it the doors between 23 and 24 are still open. Or aren't they?”

“Why are we talking about three
kids,
when we've got a ship bearing down on us?”

“Because
you
brought up the kids, sir, and in your general lack of information, I'm wondering if you have any
idea
what's going on in the sections you walled off with fifteen minutes' warning. I'm wondering what your communication with the Reunioners is
like,
and how often you undertake to inform them what's going on.”

“They get regular news, along with everybody else.”

“Do they get it now?”

A shrug. “I suppose they do.”

He swept a gesture back toward the outer room. “All those buttons. Sir. I trust you know what they do.”

“I trust you
don't.”

“We are not coming to a good conclusion, Mr. Tillington.”

“So leave.”

“Mr. Tillington. I am not here to oppose you. You've served through a difficult period . . .”

“Of your making!”

“Sir. I ask you—I
ask
you, I do not demand—that you cooperate in this situation. I don't know what you've theorized the kyo are, but
knowledge
of these people resides in
me,
in Sabin, and in the team that dealt with them last. I believe we can get us all out of this safely, given cooperation—”

“You have no authority!”

Disappointing. Extremely. He could order the man arrested. Detained.

Shot, for that matter. The Guild would oblige without hesitation.

But it wasn't a choice.

“If it's your choice to take that position, Mr. Tillington, I am exceedingly sorry. I have alternatives I don't want to invoke. And you're leaving me no choice.”

Tillington's stare went past him, instantly, to Banichi and Jago.

“You're out of office as of this moment, sir, and you're removed from all authority on this station. You'll be returning to Earth on the next shuttle. I'd like not to make that evident to your staff at this point. I'd like not to have any embarrassment to you. I'd like you to walk quietly with me out of Central, and then let's call
Phoenix
security, so you can go talk to Captain Ogun about this, as I'm sure you'll want to. Tell him I'll talk to him about it at his convenience.”

“Damn you!”

“Nadiin-ji, contact Jase. We need ship security to come here. The gentleman apparently declines to go with us, and I have no wish to have a machimi in view of his staff.”

“Nandi,” Banichi said, and Jago took up her pocket com and made a call, in Ragi, to Jase.

Bren just stood there.

Tillington clenched his jaw. “My own security's coming.”

Button under the desk edge, one was quite sure.

“That will be fine, sir. Unfortunately nobody out there speaks Mosphei'.” He changed to Ragi. “Jago-ji, trade with Tano. Tillington-nadi has called his security. Advise Nawari and communicate peacefully with Mospheiran security, if they come in before ship security does. Advise Jase-aiji to contact their command and warn them.”

“Yes,” Jago said, and went out into Central. Tano immediately came in.

Tillington's look was anger and extreme unease. His eyes followed the movements.

“If you should have a firearm in that desk,” Bren said, “I very strongly caution you not to use it. I think a conversation with Captain Ogun would be far more helpful to you. Please don't make a spectacle for staff out there. Let's just take a walk outside. Shall we?”

“I'll protest this clear to the legislature.”

“I'm sure you will. I'm even sure you'll find support. Please live to get there.”

Tillington's chin wobbled.

“Take a walk, sir?” Bren asked quietly.

Tillington got up slowly.

Bren made an inviting gesture toward the door.

Tillington walked, slowly, out into the middle of operations. Stopped.

Turned. Clamped his jaw, sucked in a breath and said, loudly:

“You're being taken over. We're being taken over. They're setting us up!”

Bren rolled his eyes. Caught a senior tech's shocked look and held it.

“No,” he said, and shook his head slowly as Tillington went on yelling about takeovers and conspiracies. He turned to catch stare after stare. Shocked, worried techs sat, some with chairs turned about, some looking at him, some looking at Tillington. One tech got up, and thought better of it, freezing in place.

“Please,” Bren said, as that tech looked his way. He made a small gesture for the man to sit down. The man felt back for his chair, and sank into it.

Tillington made a sudden move toward the boards.

Jago stepped into his path. And if Tillington didn't know it, that was the most dangerous person he could have challenged. Tillington stopped. Cold.