Fire With Fire

Visser frowned. “You mean, until we are officially part of the Accord?”

“No: until there’s no Accord left to be a part of.”

The session’s afternoon business was effectively nonexistent: given what had transpired and the boycotts that were now in place, almost every other agenda item had been stymied. Alnduul reached the end of the paralyzed “to do” list and then stood. “We must issue another directive to the Arat Kur before this Convocation may be officially closed.”

Caine leaned forward. “Heads up; this could be serious.” From behind, there was the clattering rustle of pens and palmtops being laid aside.

Zirsoo’s voice was cautious. “There has been no procedural dereliction on our part.”

“We beg to differ. Although you may decline answering the questions posed by a candidate for membership, you must at least identify your homeworld by system and planet. You have failed to do so. We understand that this may have been an oversight on your part.”

“Like hell it was.”

Caine shrugged at Lemuel’s probably accurate observation. “Alnduul had to add that. He’s a diplomat and he had to play nice.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s no career for me, then.”

Truer words were never spoken. Caine looked at the yellow quatrefoil, felt his stomach clench in response to a sudden, instinctual realization: the Arat Kur have been silent too long. It’s not just tete-a-tete, anymore: they’re deciding upon a statement-

— Which emanated from the yellow quatrefoil in the form of a different voice, proceeding at the slow, deliberate pace of a funeral march. “This is First Delegate Hu’urs’s Khraam of the Arat Kur WholeNest. The Arat Kur member state categorically refuses to comply with this directive. It is in direct violation of the ruling which protects the informational privacy of all member states.”

“With respect, First Delegate Khraam, the requirements of the Twenty-first Accord take precedence in this matter. As a probationary member state, the humans are subject to the full consequences if they violate this accord. They must therefore have the benefit of knowing which systems, if violated, would compel the Custodians to intervene.”

“Your words dig tunnels in sand; they are meaningless sophistries, crafted to compromise our safety.”

“We must disagree. This requirement-that each species has knowledge of the homeworlds of all other species-ensures that there can be no unwitting violations of the homeworld protections of the Twentieth Accord. So we must direct the Arat Kur to reveal the location of their home system and world.”

The Arat Kur did not respond. Alnduul’s next gesture was peculiar: he stretched both arms high over his head. It looked awkward and uncomfortable, but was also very evocative. “We ask again: will the Arat Kur comply with the Custodial directive to reveal the location of their homeworld?”

“We will not.”

“Then you compel us to impart this information to the humans without your approval.”

“And I must warn you that your ultimatum leaves us no middle course: you force us to either scuttle back or shatter bedrock. Consequently, if the Dornaani Custodians reveal our homeworld, we maintain that they will have violated our privacy and the accords which ensure it, and must therefore be compelled to relinquish their Custodianship.”

Alnduul did not pause. “We regret that the Arat Kur refuse to identify their homeworld, and so we must reveal it to be the third planet of the system known to humans as Sigma Draconis.”

“Holy shit, the wheels just came off the bus.” Wasserman stood as he said it, knocking over his chair.

Caine glanced over to check on the yellow quatrefoil-just in time to see it wink off.

Downing’s comment was sotto voce, but the tone was similar to Lemuel’s: “Bloody hell: Sigma Draconis. It means they’re our closest neighbors. By far.”

Elena nodded at no one. “Which is why our expansion made them so nervous.”

Caine mentally reconstructed the starfield they had all studied in the holo-tank. “It also means they have systems from which they can strike several of ours, including our naval facilities at Barnard’s Star. And that is only one shift away from Ross 154: Earth’s only connection to its main colonies.”

“And now they’re pissed and won’t talk.” Wasserman grabbed his chair, threw it back upright. “Great. What happens next, I wonder?”

“More of the same.” Elena pointed across at the Ktor delegation. “Look.”

For the second time in one day, the water heaters were slowly but steadily rolling out of the gallery. Wise- Speech’s image half-rotated, apparently preparing to join the rest of his colleagues. “We regret that we must join the Arat Kur in their protest. We are serving official notice of our departure from these proceedings. We furthermore feel that they may not be legitimately resumed until hearings have determined whether the actions of the Custodians are grounds for their dismissal. We wish all our colleagues good fortune and safe travels.” He rolled away; the connection closed.

Caine looked over at the Hkh’Rkh; there seemed to be a rather heated debate in process, one which Yaargraukh was apparently losing, though not for lack of effort.

Durniak leaned her mouth on her steepled fingers. “What will come of all this?”

Visser shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe an unofficial summit where they will manage to bury this hatchet.”

“Unlikely.”

“I agree, Mr. Downing. But if not, then the Accord must either remain split, or be forcibly reunited.”

“By which you mean-”

“War. Look.”

Yaargraukh had reentered the communication node of the Hkh’Rkh gallery. “I bear the words of the First Voice of the First Family, and they are these: that the Dornaani have dishonored him and the Hkh’Rkh by refusing to acknowledge his authority in this place, and have dishonored themselves by breaking the rules of the Accord. The Hkh’Rkh agree with the Arat Kur and the Ktor that redress is needed before further discussions are acceptable. Accordingly, we, too, turn our backs upon this Convocation.” By the time he finished speaking, he was the last of his species in the gallery. He looked over at Caine, nodded, left.

Who in turn looked at Visser. “Well, now it’s up to us: leave or stay. Fish or cut bait.”

As Visser looked around the room, Caine followed her eyes from face to face: the outcome of the silent vote was obvious. Visser nodded at him.

Caine entered the communications node again. “Alnduul, the delegation from Earth stands ready to continue with the agenda, or informal discussion, at the pleasure of the Dornaani and the Slaasriithi delegations.”

Alnduul bowed very low. “We note the continued participation of the Earth delegation and both commend and thank them for their decision to continue under these difficult circumstances.”

Caine smiled, nodded, but felt a cold knot growing in his gut. Unless I’m very wrong, the circumstances are going to get a lot more difficult before they get better.

Chapter Forty-Nine

MENTOR

Downing looked up as Hwang came into the module’s conference room and said, “Signal incoming. Holographic. I’ve sent pages to everyone else.”

“Thank you, Ben.” Richard checked his watch: two hours since the Convocation had ended, one since he had sent his requests to Alnduul. “Ben, please open the channel. And resend those pages, if necessary.”

Hwang aimed his palmtop at the holotank and clicked a button-just as the rest of the delegation started filing in, scanning for seats.

Downing noted that Elena was not among the group: neither was Caine.

ODYSSEUS

“Just a moment, Elena.”