“It’s the best possible solution,” Kinsey insisted, “if the Bond agrees. For humans, certainly. We’ll have roughly—very roughly—a status equivalent to one of the old United Nations trusteeships or protectorates. Except, with the Bond, I don’t think we’ll have to worry that the supposedly benign colonial power is really using its protectorate status to maintain what amounts to permanent colonial rule. Maybe, we’ll see. But as problems go, that one’s in the future and nothing like the problem of being under direct Narvo rule—or the direct rule of any kochan. The Bond, of course, would oversee us, and would effectively control matters of defense and ‘foreign relations.’ But they’d leave our own internal affairs to us. The truth is, since ‘defense’ and ‘foreign affairs’ now refers to the Ekhat war, we’re in no worse shape than we were before the conquest when we didn’t know about any of that anyway. Except—ha!—give the Jao this much, they got rid of all those damn endlessly bickering nation-states. I, for one, won’t miss that at all.”
His clasped hands were now waving back and forth. “The best part, though, is Caitlin’s proposal of a double taif, because that will . . .”
Kinsey’s voice trailed off, his eyes now riveted on something in the direction of the tent’s entrance.
Kralik swiveled his head and saw that Aille had entered the tent, with Yaut and Wrot preceding him. When he looked back down at Caitlin, he saw that her face was paler than ever.
“He’s going to beat me to a pulp,” she predicted. “Sorry, Ed. You’ll be horny a while longer. If Yaut starts in on me, at least a year.”
* * *
But there was no anger in Aille’s posture, as he gazed down at her. Caitlin couldn’t quite tell what there was, since Aille’s body was flowing from one posture to the next, never settling on any. As though he, too, hardly knew what to think.
“A fascinating idea,” he said. “Why did you not propose it to me before?”
“I—” Caitlin blinked. “I only thought of it myself as we walked out to the circle.” She smiled wanly. “There only seemed two alternatives. The Bond would find either for Narvo or Pluthrak, neither of which I thought would be good. But I was remembering that my father says there is always a third way, if you look hard enough.”
Tully grunted, smiling strangely.
“Will the Bond agree?” Kralik asked.
“They already have,” announced Wrot. “No sooner than the Naukra were safely back on their ships, all except Narvo and Pluthrak, whom the Preceptor had instructed to remain behind. I think the Narvo was most aggrieved.”
His ears waggled sheer glee. “And Dau krinnu ava Pluthrak even more so. Ha! Enjoyable, that was. To see a subtle Pluthrak elder realized he’d been out-maneuvered by someone. Of course,” he added, in an ameliorating tone, “it was the Bond’s Strategy Circle.”
Aille’s own posture flickered, for a moment, into an odd combination of chagrin and . . . yes, amusement also.
“It is true, I suspect,” Aille admitted. “I think now this entire affair, from the very beginning, was—was—”
” ‘Engineered,’ would be the human term,” Wrot advanced, not perhaps helpfully. “Or better still, ‘orchestrated.’ ”
“That is not helpful,” growled Yaut. “Wisely has it been said—by Jao!—that old bautas are often a curse.”
Caitlin frowned. “Surely the Bond didn’t . . . I mean, they certainly have never had any contact with me.”
Yaut shrugged, the gesture coming to him now as easily and smoothly as it would to a human. “Their strategists do not think in human terms, Caitlin. When you think of ‘strategy,’ your thoughts are like those of you who play that silly game I have seen. Called ‘chess,’ I believe. Angular, if you will, this move leading to that. Such is not the Bond’s way. They think like Jao, in terms of flow. Create a situation and let it unfold.”
He gave Wrot a none-too-friendly sidelong look. “So. Whether he is right or not, I do not know. What I do know is that dealing with this old one will be difficult, in the years ahead. He is too smug.”