specific canyon with odd features. You can't get the details right. Something would always get left out. So they do the visuals.' Ashiyyurean life provided sounds, of course. Engines starting. Water-falls. Rivers. The banging that accompanies the assembling of a scaffold. They have a passion for music, though most of it hurts my ears. But it all served to underscore the general silence of Ashiyyurean civilization. Crowds of Mutes moved through the pristine cities, carried out assorted construction projects, wandered through malls, sat in the stands at sporting events, courted and reproduced, and did it all, save for the background noise, in utter silence. 'Not so,' said Kassel, quietly, though I'd said nothing. 'Noise, yes. There is relatively little of that. But if you define silence to include the absence of input, of incoming ideas and passions and hope. Of conversation with friends. Of exchange of everything in life that matters. Then no. Our lives are anything but silent.'
In the morning a government skimmer arrived at the rooftop pad. Kassel joined us, and we all climbed in. The operator, a female, worked hard not to look appalled at her passengers. Kassel glanced in her direction, and she seemed to relax slightly. 'She's had training in interspecies tolerance,' he said. 'Is that really what they call it?' asked Circe. 'That's the terminology.' His fangs appeared briefly in that Mute smile. 'We have a few problems ourselves.' All Ashiyyurean names, as used by humans, are more or less made up. They have names, of course. But since Mutes do not speak, we only know them in their written form, and written text, of course, does not translate into sound. Only God and the Mutes know the real name for Borkarat, though I could show you the symbolic representation for it. The Mute capital on that world, the place where we were at that moment, was New Volaria. It was, of course, a human name. At the time I had no idea where it had come from, though I've since learned the original Volaria was a barbarian capital on Regnus III during the Time of Troubles. I guess it says something about the way we perceived the Ashiyyur. Kassel pointed down at a large, silver obelisk. 'That is our capitol. The-' He searched for a word. 'The parliament is currently in session.' 'What can you tell us of the Secretary of Naval Affairs?' asked Alex. 'He's reasonable. He does not like our current stance regarding the Confederacy, and is concerned that the threat could explode into all-out war. He's also not happy with the status quo, which drains resources. Unfortunately, he considers you, humans, the Confederates, to be extremely difficult to deal with. If you pressed him, he would argue that humans have not yet attained civilization. I wish I knew an easier way to say this. But he, like most of us, thinks of you as an inferior type, with an inherent bloodlust that, over fifteen thousand years of organized culture, you have been unable to shed.' He shifted his weight uncomfortably. 'I'm sorry, but it's important you understand what you're dealing with.' 'Well, that's encouraging,' said Giambrey, trying to hide his resentment. Kassel turned to him. 'The negotiation will be unlike any you've engaged in before, Giambrey. The Secretary will know the minute you walk in the door that you wish him to stand down the fleet so that the Confederate Navy can go to the rescue of Salud Afar. If he has not already come to that conclusion.' Giambrey cleared his throat. 'It's not easy being a barbarian,' he said. We drifted down onto a pad. 'Kassel.' Alex was straightening his jacket. 'Will you be in the meeting?' 'No. Unfortunately not. This business is far above my pay grade.' 'Do you have any advice for us?' 'Keep in mind, everything is an open book. You cannot surprise him. You cannot hold anything back.
Take advantage of that. Let him see your feelings for the people trapped on Salud Afar. Let him see them as I have. Let him see your desperation. And your determination, if your world survives'-his gaze turned to Giambrey and Circe-'your determination to devote yourself to calming the more barbaric impulses of your species. To working toward a lasting peace. And I see I have hurt your feelings again.' He looked at each of us in turn. Yes, I thought. Damned right. You guys don't exactly have a spotless record either, and you have less excuse than we do. 'You're correct, Chase,' he said. 'I know. I wish it could be otherwise. Maybe one day we can all learn to be rational.'
The pilot opened the hatch. Kassel glanced at her, and something passed between them. I wondered about it. How do you manage it? Or, maybe, Glad that's over. We were at ground level, looking up at a dome that rose about six stories, supporting a tower. The tower literally soared into the sky, narrowing eventually into a needle. A small entourage of robed officials came out through a set of doors and descended from a portico to greet us. The one who seemed to be in charge, a male, was the smallest of the group. Nevertheless he dwarfed Alex and Giambrey. He wore a voice box on his sleeve. 'Giambrey DeVrio?' he asked, looking from one to the other. Giambrey stepped forward. The Mute bowed. 'Welcome to the Silver Tower. I am Tio.' He swept us all up in his gaze. 'If you will please come with me.' Tio took us back up across the portico and inside, into a broad passageway. I saw no guard posts. And it looked as if anyone could have walked in off the street. He signaled for Giambrey to follow him down the passageway. One of the officials who had come out with him took charge of the rest of us. He gave us a tour of the building, but cut it short when he realized nobody really cared where the Department of the Environment was located. 'I've no way to know how long the meeting will last,' he told Alex and me. 'You are welcome to wait in the library, if you wish. And we have a cafeteria.' He looked at us uncertainly. Kassel suggested we stay. 'It makes you look serious about the mission.' Our escort took us to a large private area, filled with portraits of robed Mutes, a few landscapes, and two or three interstellar warships. There were jacks that provided access to the vast Ashiyyurean literature. It also incorporated a substantial number of human titles, including two of Vicki Greene's novels. After about an hour, Giambrey returned. 'How'd it go?' Alex asked. 'Not sure,' he said. 'I made my pitch, told him how a cessation of hostilities would be to everyone's benefit. He says the Confederates can't be trusted. Big news there. But he thinks he has to keep poking them. Keep them off-balance. If they were to declare a unilateral cease-fire, he's concerned the Confederates will use the breathing space to organize their forces and launch a major strike.' 'I was under the impression,' I said, 'that we were at peace.' Giambrey gave me a painful smile. 'Not quite.' 'So how'd it end?' I asked. 'There needs to be a mutual announcement. Both sides to say it's over and agree to talks.' 'And you told him-?' 'We're working on it. Trying to arrange it.' 'Did he say,' asked Alex, 'how the Chief Minister feels?' 'No. He says the Chief Minister has kept his feelings to himself.' Alex frowned. 'Kassel,' he said, 'that's not possible, is it?' 'Sure it is. We can block others off but only for a limited time. More likely, he simply hasn't been in the same room with the Chief Minister lately.' 'More likely still,' said Giambrey, 'he just doesn't want to say.'
Bureaucracies are not like people. They neither love nor hate. They do not suffer, and they have no grasp of compassion. Most of all, they do not make moral judgments, one way or the other. I know that it sometimes seems they do, but believe me, Rose, it's all politics. Or sheer neglect.
- Midnight and Roses
We went to a place that Kassel liked, and we tried to pretend the meeting had gone well. Mutes don't have alcohol. But Kassel was able to suggest a fruit juice that tasted okay and had a mild kick. So we ordered a round and toasted the Secretary of Naval Affairs. Then Giambrey sent encrypted messages to Kilgore and to our team in the Confederacy. I asked Kassel how long he thought it would take for the Chief Minister to make his call. 'No way to know, Chase,' he said. 'Maybe in the morning. Maybe never. But they might want to use this to get some leverage over the Confederacy. To put the moral onus on the Director.' Three days later we got a message from the Secretary: Be advised that the Chief Minister is giving your request every consideration, and that, furthermore, he is aware of the time factor. Every effort is being made to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion. I will advise you as soon as we have a decision.
'What's he deciding?' I asked Kassel. 'Whether to call a cease-fire? Or whether he'll negotiate with us?' Kassel didn't know. 'But do you want to know what I think?' 'You're skeptical that we'll get any help.' 'That's correct. I'm sorry.' He seemed to be staring at something in the distance. 'We've spent years attacking Confederate motives. You remember how we talked about the tendency for people to fool themselves? To talk themselves into things?' 'We're not alone.' 'That's right. To do as you ask, they-the administration-would have to reverse course. It would be politically unpopular. The Chief Minister would be seen as exposing Assemblage worlds to attack. Unnecessarily.' 'We're talking about a world .' 'Yes.' 'And it comes down to this guy's political career.' 'I didn't say that it did. I said maybe . Or I thought it might.' 'Kassel, I'm struck that you think it might even be possible. Have you ever been close enough to get a read on this guy?' 'What do you mean?' 'To see into his mind? The way you see into mine?' He hesitated again. 'Yes.' 'Do you think it's possible he might do that? Reverse course?' 'It's possible.' He put that big hand on my shoulder. 'I'm
