“Contrary to myth, such actions are not pleasurable to us. I perceive you have suffered extreme stress in my service and I have extended you a great deal of patience, Aiela; I also realize you are trying to give me the benefit of your knowledge. But there will be a limit to my patience. Does your experience suggest a solution?”
“Call on Tejef to surrender.”
Chimele gave a startled laugh. “Perhaps I shall. He would be outraged. But there is no time for a m’metane’s humor. Give me something workable. Quickly.”
“Let me keep working with Daniel. You wanted him within reach of Tejef. Now he is, and whatever else, Tejef has no hold over him with the idoikkhe.”
“You m’metanei are fragile people. I know that you have giyre to your asuthe, but to whose advantage is this? Surely not to his.”
“Give me something to bargain with. Daniel will fight if he has something to fight for. Let me assure him you’ll get the amaut off Priamos and give it back to his people. That’s what he wants of you.”
Chimele leaned back once more and hissed softly. “Am I at disadvantage, to need to bargain with this insolent creature?”
“He is human. Deal with him as he understands. Is that not reasonable? Giyre is nothing to him; he doesn’t understand arastiethe. Only one thing makes a difference to him: convince him you care what—”
A probing touch found his consciousness and his stomach turned over at foreknowledge of the pain. He tried to screen against it, but his sympathy made him vulnerable.
“Daniel is conscious.” Isande spoke, for at the moment he had not yet measured the extent of the pain and his mind was busy with that. “He is hearing the amaut talk. The child Arle is beside him. He is concerned for her.”
“Dispense with his concern for her. Tell him you want a report.”
Aiela tried. Tears welled in his eyes, an excess of misery and weariness; the pain of the wounds blurred his senses. Daniel was half-conscious, sending nonsense, babble mixed with vague impressions of his surroundings. He was back on the amaut freighter. There was wire all about. Aiela, Aiela, Aiela, the single thread of consciousness ran, begging help.
I’m here, he sent furiously. So is Chimele. Report.
“‘I,'” Aiela heard and said aloud for Chimele, “‘I’m afraid I have—penetrated Tejef’s defenses—in a somewhat different way than she had planned. We’re coming down, I think. Stay with me—please, stay with me, if you can stand it. I’ll send you what I—what I can learn.'”
“And he will tell Tejef what Tejef asks, and promise him anything. A creature that so values his own life is dangerous.” Chimele laced her fingers and stared at the backs of them as if she had forgotten the kamethi or dismissed the problem for another. Then she looked up. “Vaikka. Tejef has won a small victory. I have regarded your arguments. Now I cannot intervene without using Ashanome’s heavy armament to pierce his defenses—a quick death to Tejef, ruin to Priamos, and damage to my honor. This is a bitterness to me.”
“Daniel still has resources left,” Aiela insisted. “I can advise him.”
“You are not being reasonable. You are fatigued: your limbs shake, your voice is not natural. Your judgment is becoming highly suspect. I have indeed erred to listen to you.” Chimele gathered the now-useless position report together and put it aside, pushed a button on the desk console, and frowned. “Ashakh: come to the paredre at once. Rakhi: contact Ghiavre in the lab and have him prepare to receive two kamethi for enforced rest.”
Rakhi acknowledged instantly, to Aiela’s intense dismay.
He leaned upon the desk, holding himself up. “No,” he said, “no, I am not going to accept this.”
Chimele pressed her lips together. “If you were rational, you would recognize that you are exceeding your limit in several regards. Since you are not—”
“Send me down to Priamos, if you’re afraid I’ll leak information to Daniel. Set me out down there. I’ll take my chances with the deadline.”
Chimele considered, looked him up and down, estimating. “Break contact with Daniel,” she said. “Shut him out completely.”