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It was a complete right turn from the information he'd gotten from Geigi, even in prolonged exchanges. But—dealing with atevi—sometimes silence was another kind of information. Atevi completely avoided problematic humans, rather than collapse a useful situation. Humans didn't always figure that out.

They'd gone to war, humans and atevi, as an outgrowth of such a situation.

“I'm listening,” he said.

“He doesn't like Reunioners,” Jase said. “And yes, the shortages and the crowding are a problem, but it wasn't the personal choice of the Reunioners. He complains to his subordinates and crew chiefs, sympathizes with their problems, blames the Reunioners for all of it. He was massively upset about the kids' visit, called it special privilege for the Reunioners, didn't want it to happen, said they were short of supplies and the kids' visit was taking up a shuttle flight—an exaggeration. We used the smallest passenger module and we'll carry cargo both ways. Ogun wasn't in favor of it—he was siding with Tillington's view until the aiji's request came through. But that wasn't the end of it. He said Tabini's government was still unstable, he said the children would be in danger and if anything happened the Reunioners would riot. Well, Sabin fixed that. She proposed I go down as interpreter and run security. So that happened, and we came down. But when we called up to the station to advise the kids were going to stay through another shuttle rotation—Tillington started saying he had information that the kids were a setup, that they'd always been a setup, and that Sabin had arranged their meeting the young gentleman on the ship.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“It gets better. According to Tillington, Sabin's plan was to get Reunioner kids linked to the young gentleman, to get in tight with the atevi, to get an agreement with Braddock and the Reunioners, that
she
was going to be their ally. That it was all cooked up on the voyage back.”

Bren's pulse ticked up a notch. Two notches. “He actually said that.”

“That's as Sabin reported the statement to me, which she had from Ogun—who usually doesn't restructure information. Ogun asked her what the truth was. She naturally said hell, no, it was entirely atevi business what the young gentleman did. She didn't
stop
it, because atevi security was watching over the situation. She said she'd as soon space Braddock, given a choice; she'd done everything she'd promised Ogun she'd do, and she'd handled a refugee situation they hadn't planned for.
And
she'd brought the ship back, what more proof than that could he want?”

“Saying the aiji-dowager might have an ulterior motive is like saying the sea has tides. But involving her as your captain's ally in a special deal, as putting emotional pressure on the aiji's son, in her care—at his age—and to take—” Neither ship-speak nor Mosphei' had a word for it. He changed to Ragi. “—to institute a new aijinate aboard that ship, far from the aishidi'tat, to involve herself and the aiji's son in foreign politics and foreign ambition— No.” He dropped back into ship-speak, for another logic. “First, you and I know it didn't in fact happen. The aiji-dowager deals from her own hand. No one else's. And certainly she wouldn't use her great-grandson as anybody's ally in some human power game. No. First, it's false. She allowed the association with the Reunioner children for her great-grandson's sake—a boy who'd scarcely
seen
another child—of any sort. And secondly, if word of this accusation reached her, she might well File Intent on Tillington. Mind, she
does
have Guild personnel on the station. He'd better not repeat this theory, anywhere outside Ogun's office.”

“We have no way to stop him. It's not mutiny. It's opinion, and, all said, he's
your
official. In the
Mospheiran
sense.”

“No question he's Mospheiran,” Bren said. “But he's not on Mospheira.”

“He's opened a wide gulf with Sabin. I don't know how he can retreat from this.”

“I don't know how he can retreat from it either, given the situation. I'm serious about the dowager's position. She will be serious, if she takes notice of it. If Geigi hears it, Geigi won't work with him.”

“Geigi already won't work with him. I
know
Geigi can speak a little Mosphei'. It doesn't happen.”

True. Basically true, during all their absence from the solar system and all the troubles, with all the building, Geigi had been communicating using the supply system codes they'd developed for that interface in the space program, in shuttle guidance, in all the places where numbers and codes could carry a meaning.

“So he's become a liability. A serious liability, driving a program that's going to divert materials for years. And the Reunioners remain a problem driving every decision we make. If we propose moving the Reunioners down, that process is going to take time, and new construction, with politics all the way. If we remove Tillington now, he'll have an opinion. If it's political power he's courting, I can foresee which party will back him. Damn. Is
nothing
ever simple?”

“We've got Tillington on one side, Braddock on the other, up there, and theoretically we're not in charge of Braddock, Tillington is. Tell the President this: when you chose the crews to come up to the station, you
screened
people you sent. They're all certified
sane.
The Reunioners were all born on Reunion. They've been through hell in the last ten years. And we took all the survivors. There was nothing like screening. There still hasn't been. We've got theft we never had to deal with. We have a shadow market we never had to deal with. You wouldn't believe what you can turn into alcohol. We've likely got some seriously confused head cases in that population. And we've got Braddock, who thinks the Pilots' Guild is in charge of the universe. We're one psych problem short of a security nightmare. And
we're
fragile.
Phoenix
is. Tillington's politicking between Sabin and Ogun is bringing live
our
old issues. My people
still
haven't answered all the questions about
why
Ramirez pulled us away from Reunion and stranded those people out there in the first place. It's
not
a dead issue with the crew
or
with the Reunioners. It may never be. Damned sure nobody in the crew is on the side of the old Pilots' Guild, and Braddock's claims to speak for that ancient organization get no handhold with us. But now Tillington's shooting sparks into a volatile atmosphere. I don't think he understands how what he's saying translates to us
or
to atevi. But he's the wrong man in the wrong place right now.”

He'd been busy since he'd gotten back. He'd been fighting for Tabini's return, fighting to keep Tabini in office, fighting to defuse issues that had nearly taken the aishidi'tat apart. Tillington had been a name to him, and he'd trusted Geigi to tell him if there were things that needed attention. Of course there were disputes. There were issues. Those had seemed distant, someone else's problem.

Then three kids wanted to come down to the planet for a birthday party, and three political systems exploded?

“Understand,” he said, “I have
no
standing with the Mospheiran government any longer. I haven't been back there since before we left the planet.”

“The President
is
still an old friend of yours.”

“He is. And I can still talk to him, on that basis—and as what I am on the
atevi
side of the strait. I
will
try to talk to him. But, damn, Jase. I wasn't paying attention up there. I let this one get past me.”

“You've been just a bit busy. Sabin knows that. It's why we've said nothing until now. So Tillington doesn't like Reunioners. His wanting to ship the Reunioners out to Maudit was understandable. Everything was understandable—down to the point where he decided he still wanted Ogun's ear all to himself, everything the way it had been—and Sabin and me out of his way. That's my theory. He doesn't want Sabin back any more than he wants the Reunioners. In his head, it's all one event that's messed up his little world.”

“Damn, Jase.” He looked into the half-empty glass, as if it held an answer. Jase said he wasn't as good at persuasion. But this was beyond persuasion. Massive changes had to be set in motion. “I hope the kids are safe going back up there.”

“They'll be safe. I have no question of that. All the official craziness has been behind official doors. And best we keep it that way.”

“I hope so. I'll get on this. I may need to fly over to the island, see if I can get a quiet meeting. Limit the number of outlets for this information, if you can. Last thing I want is Tillington's theory of what happened debated in the legislature. One thing I
will
send up with you. Tabini-aiji wants those kids officially protected, by ship command. Wants them kept out of station politics. In any sense. He demands their free access to the planet, protection from political exploitation or political mention, and if that is threatened, he wants them on the atevi side of the wall up there. I have the wording. It's that treaty clause—persons under protection of the aishidi'tat to be treated as citizens
of
the aishidi'tat.”

Jase drew in a breath. “I don't think it was ever envisioned as three kids from Reunion.”

“The wording stands. As associates of the young gentleman, they have standing with the aiji. You don't need to publicize the document. It's just there if the Captains should need it. And it will be
here
if Tabini decides he needs to invoke it.”

Jase nodded. “Got it.”

“My personal seal as the aiji's voice is no problem. I'll have the document for you tomorrow, in case there's any problem. I'll get the aiji's official seal on a more specific document to follow, shipped up to Geigi's office by the next shuttle after yours. Keep them under lock and key, so to speak. But know they're there.”

Jase stared into his own barely touched glass for a moment. Then:

“Come up there, Bren.”

“I'm up to my ears. Negotiations are at a make-or-break point . . . things we've been working on all year, that
have
to work. Things that can make the peace last.”

“Your help—would be invaluable.”

“I'm out of touch. I haven't had time—”

“One shuttle cycle. You could make a difference.”

“Is this from Sabin?”

Jase shook his head. “From me. I'm asking you. None of the rest of the potential problems want a compromise. But trying to find a solution, convincing the Senior Captain to take it . . .”

“Down here, I know the issues. Down here, I have a role. Up there—I risk becoming one more issue. I'm
not
a Mospheiran official anymore.”

“You've been up there. You were part of it. I'm asking, Bren. Calling in a favor.”

Favor.

Gut-deep, he hated the ride up and down.

He needed to call the President—Shawn Tyers was an old friend, an old ally. He could be frank and honest with Shawn, make him understand, tell him the situation . . .

Shawn, who'd come up through the State Department, dealing with atevi—Shawn would understand it was serious. That something urgent had to be done, before atevi had to take notice of Tillington's statements.

But what Jase said . . . what Jase described . . . was not
one
problem. Was not one man. There were problems up there. There were five thousand problems, outnumbering the Mospheirans on their own half of the station.

Five thousand problems and a situation that had gone unaddressed for the last year he'd been trying to pull the threads of the aishidi'tat together, and keep Tabini alive and the shuttles flying and the system functioning . . .

He'd left problems aloft to the four
Phoenix
captains and the two stationmasters—and knew they'd had troubles.

Geigi and he had been in close contact, and Geigi hadn't complained—but Geigi's priorities had been, the same as his, the survival of the aishidi'tat. Up on the station, Geigi
held
most of the robotics, and the construction stockpiles, controlled all but one of the shuttles that supplied the station, and kept order, presumably, on
his
side of the station.

On the Mospheiran side, however, there had been a year of stress, a year of overcrowding and some shortages and a stationmaster who wasn't bearing up under the load—a year when there'd been planning to ship the Reunioners out to another construction, as yet only blueprints, even for the transport to get them there.

Nobody had committed money to the plan. Nobody had laid supplies on the table. A full year, now, and nothing had advanced except more blueprints, and Reunioners themselves were divided, some wanting to stay, some wanting to go. Braddock had inserted himself into the argument and pushed to go start the building, with himself in charge.

That had stalled things. Nobody outside the Reunioners wanted Braddock in charge. Most of the Reunioners didn't want Braddock in charge, but there weren't any others stepping forward.

Go up there?

Talk to people?

Get Tillington
and
Braddock out of the picture?

He was tired. He was exhausted. He had the tag ends of the year's work lying on his foyer table back in the Bujavid, things that
enabled
the solution to the aishidi'tat's problems. He'd taken a couple of weeks off to handle four kids and a birthday party.

“All right,” he said to Jase. “All right. I'll come. I'll get started on the Tillington matter as soon as I get to Shejidan. And when I do get up there, I'm not coming in on Sabin's side, understand. I'm far more help that way.”