PART II:
Honors
When the Bond of Ebezon’s most important agent on Terra received word of the Governor’s reception for Aille, he felt a moment’s deep regret. He would have liked to be present at the occasion. “Like a fly on the wall,” as humans put it, in one of their charming little saws.
But, it was impossible. First, because he had not been invited, and would not be. Second, because it was not yet time for him to move toward the center of the flow.
An observer he had been, simply advising the Strategy Circle; an observer he would remain. For a time, at least.
Still, it was a pity. The agent was sure he would have much enjoyed himself. The first reports coming to him from Pascagoula were very promising. The agent had, among other things, carefully studied Oppuk krinnu ava Narvo for twenty years. Long ago, that study had led him to despise the Governor. Finally, after twenty years, he thought Oppuk was about to find himself . . .
Challenged? That was not strong enough.
The agent searched his mind for a suitable human expression.
Yes, of course. Catch a tiger by the tail.
Chapter 11
Caitlin Stockwell alighted from the Jao transport and stood on the sweltering tarmac, gazing west at the Oklahoma horizon that stretched out in the dusty distance beyond the airfield. The “invitation” had come two days ago. Although her parents were apprehensive, she had been commanded to attend and they had not. With any luck, she could keep her head down at the reception for the Pluthrak and return to college none the worse tomorrow. If she were very careful, Oppuk might not even notice she was here.
Professor Kinsey had been “invited” to accompany her also. Caitlin wasn’t sure why. Kinsey himself swore to her that he had made no request for it—not that he wasn’t practically hopping up and down with eagerness to go—and she believed him.
She suspected that was Banle’s doing. Her Jao bodyguard seemed to have gotten it into her head that Kinsey was the equivalent of a fraghta for the young woman—a particularly incapable fraghta, to be sure, but the best humans could come up with.
For all their smugness regarding Jao “straightforwardness” in contrast to human “dissimilitude,” the Jao were just as capable as any Borgia or Machiavelli of maneuvering under false colors. The coming reception for the new Pluthrak was anything but straightforward. A great honor on the surface, it was actually an arena for clan conflict.
Unfortunately, Governor Oppuk had decided that Caitlin would make a nice decoration for the arena. Even more unfortunately, he’d decided to add Kinsey for an extra little bit of bunting. This was going to be dangerous enough for her, without Kinsey. With him . . .
Caitlin practically cringed. Kinsey was a kindly and well-meaning man, to be sure, as well as a good historian. He was also famous, even among his own human academic colleagues, for being a social bumbler. The sort of person—this was a true story, apparently—who would attend a funeral for a colleague’s wife, and then ask him after the conclusion of the service how his research was going.
* * *
The land here was as flat as she remembered, from her few visits, as well as hot. The late August air was humid, almost too thick to breathe, after the comparative coolness of Michigan.
Oklahoma City was not the site humans would have selected when deciding upon a new capital for what had once been the United States. Neither would Jao, Caitlin would have thought, with their love of the ocean. But perhaps the Narvo Governor had been motivated by uncomplicated power considerations. The capital was about as centrally located as possible, in North America.
She turned back to Dr. Kinsey. His dark eyes sparkled as he looked over the scene. He’d had no misgivings about accepting this invitation. He was acting like a kid on the eve of Christmas.
Her guard Banle emerged behind them, preceded by a human steward portering their luggage. The sturdy Jao, in her dark-blue harness and trousers, looked characteristically unruffled despite the heat. Her facial markings were distinctive. Dark bands striped both cheeks, but left clear the simmering green-black eyes in that golden face. In an unguarded moment, Banle had once revealed that many of her kochan were so marked. It was the most in twenty years the Jao had ever let slip about her origins.