He said, in his voice that was as usual slow and soft: “Welcome, Ivar Frederiksen, deliverer of your world.”
Night laired everywhere around Desai’s house. Neighbor lights felt star-distant; and there went no whisper of traffic. It was almost with relief that he blanked the windows.
“Please sit down, Prosser Thane,” he said. “What refreshment may I offer you?”
“None,” the tall young woman answered. After a moment she added, reluctantly and out of habit: “Thank you.”
“Is it that you do not wish to eat the salt of an enemy?” His smile was wistful. “I shouldn’t imagine tradition requires you refuse his tea.”
“If you like, Commissioner.” Tatiana seated herself, stiff-limbed in her plain coverall. Desai spoke to his wife, who fetched a tray with a steaming pot, two cups, and a plate of cookies. She set it down and excused herself. The door closed behind her.
To Desai, that felt like the room closing in on him. It was so comfortless, so … impoverished, in spite of being physically adequate. His desk and communications board filled one corner, a reference shelf stood nearby, and otherwise the place was walls, faded carpet, furniture not designed for a man of his race or culture: apart from a picture or two, everything rented, none of the dear clutter which makes a home.
Our family moves too much, too often, too far, like a bobbin shuttling to reweave a fabric which tears because it is rotted. I was always taught on Ramanujan that we do best to travel light through life. But what does it do to the children, this flitting from place to place, though always into the same kind of Imperial-civil-servant enclave? He sighed. The thought was old in him.
“I appreciate your coming as I requested,” he began. “I hope you, ah, took precautions.”
“Yes, I did. I slipped into alley, reversed my cloak, and put on my nightmask.”
“That’s the reason I didn’t visit you. It would be virtually impossible to conceal the fact. And surely the terrorists have you under a degree of surveillance.”
Tatiana withheld expression. Desai plodded on: “I hate for you to take even this slight risk. The assassins of a dozen prominent citizens might well not stop at you, did they suspect you of, um, collaboration.”
“Unless I’m on their side, and came here to learn whatever I can for them,” Tatiana said in a metallic tone.
Desai ventured a smile. “That’s the risk I take. Not very large, I assume.” He lifted the teapot and raised his brows. She gave a faint nod. He poured for her and himself, lifted his cup and sipped. The heat comforted.
“How about gettin’ to business?” she demanded.
“Indeed. I thought you would like to hear the latest news of Ivar Frederiksen.”
That caught her! She said nothing, but she sat bolt upright and the brown gaze widened.
“This is confidential, of course. From a source I shan’t describe, I have learned that he joined a nomad band, later got into trouble with it, and took passage on a southbound ship of Riverfolk together with an Ythrian who may or may not have met him by chance but is almost certainly an Intelligence agent of the Domain. They were nearly at the outfall when I got word and sent a marine squad to bring him in. Thanks to confusion—obviously abetted by the sailors, though I don’t plan to press charges—he and his companion escaped.”
Red and white ran across her visage. She breathed quickly and shallowly, caught up her cup and gulped deep.
“You know I don’t want him punished if it can be avoided,” Desai said. “I want a chance to reason with him.”
“I know that’s what you claim,” Tatiana snapped.
“If only people would understand,” Desai pleaded. “Yes, the Imperium wronged you. But we are trying to make it good. And others would make tools of you, for prying apart what unity, and safety in unity, this civilization has left.”
“What d’you mean? Ythrians? Merseians?” Her voice gibed.
Desai reached a decision. “Merseians. Oh, they are far off. But if they can again preoccupy us on this frontier— They failed last time, because McCormac’s revolt caught them, too, by surprise. A more carefully engineered sequel would be different. Terra might even lose this entire sector, while simultaneously Merseia grabbed away at the opposite frontier. The result would be a truncated, shaken, weakened Empire, a strengthened Roidhunate flushed with success… and the Long Night brought that much closer.”