“Nevertheless,” Kinsey said, obviously taken aback, “I am curious.” He glanced aside at Caitlin.
“I am not authorized to provide such information.” Banle’s green-black eyes turned back to the window. One of her shoulders tightened into what Caitlin read as unease. “You will have to seek access at a higher level.”
Like the Governor of Earth, Caitlin thought. She did not relish meeting this particular Jao again. Her father, Ben Stockwell, hated working under him and in the end had accepted the role of President only to protect his family and ameliorate the worst aspects of Jao rule. He had, to this date, been able to get them to allocate at least some small portion of resources toward rebuilding war-devastated areas like Illinois, Texas, Louisiana, and Virginia. He’d also argued effectively, so far, against plastering the continent’s mountainous and more remote areas with bolides to eliminate the last of the Resistance.
The vehicle turned abruptly, stopped at a massive security gate manned by Jao guards, then was waved through to a tree-lined boulevard full of deep green shadows and lined by a veritable sea of begonias so that red and pink and white filled the eyes. That was a surprise. Jao didn’t usually think of flowers, or indeed of any sort of ornamental foliage, at all. They did have an aesthetic sense, but it was bound up closely with either behavior—such as their elaborate body language—or practical arts such as architecture. She wondered who’d decided to authorize the impressive display.
Surrounding human habitations had long since been removed from this area and the green grounds swept to either side as far as she could see. The palace itself lay at the end of the boulevard, all sleek black curves of quantum crystal against the bright sky, with no right angles, unmistakably Jao.
Banle blinked at the unexpected beds of flowers and her body shifted into shocked-disapproval.
Caitlin suppressed a smile and stared over the Jao’s shoulder. Waste of resources, was what Banle was thinking, she was quite sure. Waste of labor and space, fulfilling no useful function. Was the Narvo Governor becoming decadent?
The car pulled up before the black palace and a liveried human attendant, who had been waiting back by the wall, hurried forward to open the door. Again, Caitlin found that odd and out of place. Jao considered the human custom of opening doors for others as a gesture of respect to be grotesque. An insult, even.
It was possible, she supposed, that the attendant had been acquired simply for this reception, as a courtesy to the human guests. But Caitlin thought that was unlikely. First, because Governor Oppuk was, to put it mildly, not given to being considerate toward humans. Second, because he certainly wouldn’t do so directly—and this attendant was wearing Narvo colors.
Could Oppuk be adapting to human customs himself?
Caitlin emerged from the car, blinking at the torrid sunshine. No pointless flowers here, just black crystal steps and the stark lines of a protective overhang, almost like a portico. Ah, well. She turned as Banle gestured imperiously. Only time would tell, but this visit might well be more interesting than she had anticipated.
* * *
When the invitation had surfaced in Yaut’s electronic queue, he’d immediately realized its importance and taken it to Aille. He’d found the young Pluthrak in his office in the refit facility, going over the latest figures.
The younger Jao looked up as Yaut entered. He had been swimming down at the cordoned-off Jao area at the beach earlier and his nap was dark-gold with damp. “Kaul still insists we proceed with the replacement of all kinetic weapons, despite the results of the tests.”
“Then you will replace them.” Yaut had served too long to entertain any illusions of sense winning out over duty. “If the lasers serve poorly, we will switch them back, and then, if you are fortunate, Oppuk will not hold it against you for being right.”
“But it wastes resources!” Aille stalked across the dim room. “As well as time. And, according to reports, time may be what we have the least of!”
“It is your job to accomplish this foolish task quickly and without further protest.” Yaut keyed his personal board on and laid it on the desk before Aille. “Then, if it does not work out, your task will be to cover it up as best as possible.”