He shook his head. “I wouldn’t live to get there. And they wouldn’t listen. Can’t. It’s gone too far. Moth will be dead by the time I could get there. Eight days, message-time or shiptime, at quickest. I couldn’t—couldn’t get there in time. ”
“And someone’s on his way here.”
“There’s no way not.”
Pol was talking clear sense. She continued to soothe Warrior, aware it was recording, aware of the nervous tremor of the palp against her hand. She felt it calm at last. There are extensions of ITAK on the other continent. Are there blues with the other city, Warrior?”
“Yess. All hives, red, gold, green, blue. New-port”
“Same-Mind, Warrior?”
“Same-Mind.”
“No queen.”
“Warriorss. Workerss. From this-Hill.”
She looked at Pol. “Suppose that I trusted you. Suppose that I asked you to do me a small favour. Have you your own staff?”
“Twelve azi. The ship is mine. My entire estate. I’m mobile. In these times it seems wise.”
“I haven’t an establishment on the other continent.”
“You plan to take me out of the way.”
“You can take West and be sure of the situation there in the matter of a day or two.”
“You may not have that much time. They’ll stop you. I mean that”
“Then it’s wise that I cultivate you, isn’t it? If they pull my authorisations you’ll still have yours, won’t you, Pol Hald?”
“You have a dazzling mutability. You’d rely on me?”
“One does what one must.”
“You’d have my neck in the jaws with no compunction, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m figuring you started from innerworlds first and farthest out. So there’s a little time yet. You can do me that small service and still have time to run. And I’d run far, Pol. I would, in your place.”
All posing fell aside. He stared at her. “I’ve told you something. I wish I understood the extent of it.”
“The Halds should have asked my help. Or Moth should have. If they’d asked, I might have come.” She gave Warrior’s auditory palp a light brush, and Warrior turned its head, reacted in slight pleasure. “It’s good to see you, Pol. I’d not say that of any of the rest of the Family, I assure you. My old acquaintances no longer interest me. The Family . . . no longer interests me. I’ve found here what you’ve been searching for all your life.”
“And what do you take that to be, Raen a Sul?”
“The Edge. That which limits us”
“You don’t have Ros Hald’s ambitions.”
She laughed, which was no laughter. “Mine are yours. To push until it gives. Here’s the stopping-place. Beware red-hive. You understand me?”
“You have disquieted me.”
“You never liked peace”
“What shall I look for in West?’
“Guard-azi. Buy up those you can. Ship them to East, to the Labour Registry. Arms as well.”
“You’re planning civil war.”
She smiled again. “Tell the estate-holders in West . . . and ITAK there . . . to prepare for storm.”
“How can I, when I don’t know what you have in mind?”
“It’s your choice. Go or stay”
“I know my choices, youngster.”
“You’d better get yourself clear of this house, in any case. There’ll be blue-hive thick about here in a little while, and that hand of yours is no guarantee of friendship. Get out of Newhope, in either direction you choose.”
He put on a long face. “I’d thought of dinner, alas; and more things after.”
“Later, Pol Hald. I confess you tempt me.”
A twinkle danced in his eye, a favourite pose. “Then I’m not without hope. Alas, you’ve your azi for consolation, and I’m not without my own. Sad, is it not?”
“The time will come.”
He bowed his head.
“You know my call number. It never changes.”
“You know mine.”
“Betas on Istra,” she said, “have played the same dangerous game as Hald and Thon. Red-hive gives them gifts. I’ll warrant red-hive walks where it will in West.”
“I’ve no skill with majat.”
“Keep it that way. Refuse to be approached. Shoot on the least excuse.”
“Hazard,” Warrior broke in, coming to life again. “Green-hive Drone, take care: danger. Red-hive kills humans, many, many, many. You are not green-hive Mind. No synthesis. None.”