“This matter has had Ashanome in turmoil from before I left the dhis, o Thiane; and if my methods hazard much, bear in mind that our primacy has been challenged. Does not great gain justify such risk?”
Thiane lowered her eyes and inclined her head respectfully. “Hail Ashanome. May your dhis increase with offspring of your spirit, and may your sra continue in honor. You have my admiration, Chimele. I hope that it may be so at our next meeting.”
“Honor to Mijanothe. May your dhis increase forever.”
The projection vanished, and Chimele surrounded herself with the control room a brief instant, eyes flashing though her face was calm.
“Rakhi. Summon Ashakh up to Ashanome and have him report to me the instant he arrives.”
Rakhi was still in the midst of his acknowledgment when Chimele cut him out and stood once more in the paredre. Isande, who had waited outside rather than break in upon Thiane, was timidly venturing into the room, and Chimele’s sweeping glance included both the kamethi.
“Take over the desk to the rear of the paredre. Review the status and positions of every amaut and mercenary unit on Priamos relative to Tejef’s estimated location. Daniel must be reassigned.”
. Had it been any other iduve, even Ashakh, that so ordered him, Aiela would have cried out a reminder that he had been almost a night and a day without sleep, that he could not possibly do anything requiring any wit at all; but it was Chimele and it was for Daniel’s sake, and Aiela bowed respectfully and went off to do as he was told.
Isande touched his mind, sympathizing. “I can do most of it,” she offered. “Only you sit by me and help a little.”
He sat down at the desk and leaned his head against his hands. He thought again of Daniel, the anger, the hate of the being for him over that child. He could not persuade them apart; he had tried, and probably Daniel would not forgive him. Reason insisted, reason insisted: Daniel’s company itself was supremely dangerous to the child. They were each safer apart. Priamos was safer for it, he and the child hopeless of survival otherwise; leaving her was a risk, but it was a productive one. It was the reasonable, the orderly thing to do; and the human called him murderer, and shut him out, mind locked obstinately into some human logic that sealed him out and hated. His senses blurred. He shivered in a cool wind, realized the slip too late.
Aiela. Isande’s presence drew at him from the other side, worried. He struggled back toward it, felt the physical touch of her hand on his shoulder. The warmth of the paredre closed about him again. Too long in contact, she sent him. Aiela, Aiela, think of here. Let go of him, let go.
“I am all right,” he insisted, pushing aside her fear. But she continued to look at him concernedly for a little time more before she accepted his word for it. Then she reached for the computer contact.
The paredre door shot open, startling them both, and Mejakh’s angry presence stopped Isande’s hand in mid-move. The woman was brusque and rude and utterly tangible. Almost Isande called out to Chimele a frightened appeal, but Chimele looked up from her own desk a distance away and fixed Mejakh with a frown.
“You were not called,” Chimele said.
Mejakh swept a wide gesture toward Aiela and Isande. “Get them out. I have a thing to say to you, Chimele-Orithain, and it is not for the ears of m’metanei.”
“They are aiding me,” said Chimele, bending her head to resume her writing. “You are not. You may leave, Mejakh.”
“You are offended because I quit the meeting. But you had no answer when Kharxanen baited me. You enjoyed it.”
“Your incredible behavior left me little choice.” Chimele looked up in extreme displeasure as Mejakh in her argument came to the front of the desk. Chimele laid aside her pen and came up from her chair with a slow, smooth motion. “You are not noticed, Mejakh. Your presence is ignored, your words forgotten. Go.”
“Ashanome has no honor when it will not defend its own.”