He was asking himself that when the lift let them out again in that heavily securitied corridor, near that massive door, beyond which one of the station’s essential nerve centers gave orders and regulated processes.
Tell the captains the truth?
Truth had done damage within the ship, after lack of truth had roused massive distrust. Lies and secrets had been the rule.
And aboard that kyo ship was one devastating secret, the existence of which threatened—everything.
Outside of himself and his aishid, the dowager knew. Cenedi knew. Tabini would need to know. He had to ask himself whether even Shawn Tyers, sitting in the Presidency of Mospheira, should be privy to a secret that, if ever whispered in the halls of government, would hit the streets and rouse—God knew what reactions. Panic. Anger. Conspiracy theories would run wild inside the hour.
He didn’t know about Shawn’s security. He didn’t know whether Shawn also had people he would feel obliged to tell, and if he did, and they had people—the damned thing was endless. How many degrees could the information go out, before someone talked to somebody in a hallway in Mospheira’s power structure and somebody else overheard?
Tabini knew how to keep secrets. The dowager had taught him.
There would come the day Cajeiri had to know.
But right now—he was missing a razor and a comb which he had to make some excuse to replace, and a guilty conscience said that telling staff he had accidentally left them aboard the kyo ship was just—a question he didn’t even want to raise. A comb was one thing. A razor had to come from Mospheira. It could be gotten on the station, on the Mospheiran side. Atevi didn’t use such a thing.
He could ask Gin. But that was one more person he was asking himself should he tell. Should he tell Geigi? Should he tell—when he got down to the world—his brother Toby?
But at some point, he had to draw the line and stick with it. At some point, he was going to have to choose to lie to someone who had a right to know. Because at some point, the risk became too great. It was a weight he had to carry. He had talked to Cullen about the hard parts he’d have to deal with; he had his own. He couldn’t share the responsibility.
Secrecy. As heavy as that knowledge was, it went along with the strong likelihood that at some point—Cullen was going to find out. Prakuyo knew, and Prakuyo’s crew knew, and the whole kyo hierarchy had to know. At some point they’d have to trust Cullen with the truth of the atevi and that the entire time he’d been with Bren, he had been a shuttle-ride away from another human civilization. They’d have to tell him someday—or Cullen would find out someday. Such things were ticking bombs, waiting until some point of stress to blow wide and do damage. But he couldn’t control Cullen. Cullen had to figure for himself. And maybe if any human could understand why he’d had to keep that secret—by the time he figured it out—Cullen might.
“Bren.” Jase caught sight of him as he walked in, as guards passed them through. Jase welcomed him, nodded to his aishid, and beckoned them on into the narrow aisles of techs and screens.
Two big screens showed the kyo ship, with the umbilical still attached, or at least as much as the cameras could take in, a confusing pattern of reflected sun, red and blue working lights from the station structure, and absolute, unremitting black of shadow.
“How was it?” Jase asked. “You look exhausted.”
“Pretty tired,” he said.
“What took so long? Agreement, your message said. Have we got one?”
“Pretty good one. The kyo are keeping Reunion alive. Remaking it, I suppose, in their own way. They don’t want contact. They want ships to stay out of their space. But if we need to contact them, we can go to Reunion. We can contact them there. That’s in the document.” Deep breath. “I had to sign it for the captains. It seemed expedient. I know what that’s worth, technically, but it was that or lose the momentum. And they were agreeing. They just don’t want to be contacted right now. Maybe never, but certainly not until they’ve ended their war. They wanted to be sure they didn’t have a situation with us on the other front. I convinced them we’re peaceful, and as anxious for privacy as they were. They were glad. We all signed. I brought you one of three documents. It’s in the things I’m sending up to the apartment. I’m just not up to an interview with Ogun and Sabin right now, if you understand.”
“I do. So will they. We’re all, all, grateful.”
A voice on com said, “Uncoupling.”
The screen didn’t appear to change. The umbilical was still out there.
“Confirmation on uncouple. Clear.”
A schematic flashed up on the second large screen, simply a set of dots, moving to the right.
“They’re moving.”
The dots vanished in favor of the second ship image, a white structure slowly, slowly moving in relation to the station structure. The umbilical separation became clear, the end just left, motionless, while the ship, at the speed of a train leaving station, eased itself back and back.
“Moving with authority,” Jase murmured. “But they pretty much do as they want to do. Scared hell out of ops coming in.”
“All booms clear,” came the word from com. “Clear to go.”
The ship moved more definitely now, straight back, at increasing speed.
“Were you all right with them?” Jase asked with a critical look.
“Short sleep. Long sessions. But we’re fine. We’re all fine. More than fine. Good outcome, Jase. Very good outcome.”
The ship kept accelerating. Backward—forward—who among them knew which end was the bow, or whether the kyo much cared?
“Cajeiri kept asking, had I heard, had I heard. Ogun was worried about you. That’s a first.”
“Gratified,” he said.
Jase just looked at him. Second brother, Jase. Jase, who did carry a paidhi’s burden—the power to decide, the power to inform, the obligation at times to take a stand against his own superiors.
“Jase,” he said, and lapsed into Ragi. “Come upstairs. We need to talk.”
Looking for more?
Visit dawbooks.com for more about this author and a complete list of their books.
Discover your next great read!
Table of Contents
Also by C.J. Cherryh
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Visitor: A Foreigner Novel Page 38