Well, not at Concord. He’d heard of no problems with his on-station Outsider Council counterpart, the ondatrepresentative was perfectly quiet, and he didn’t believe whatever brought Earth inquiry to them was a valid suspicion. Some sort of accusation could always turn up, instigated by politicians with an axe to grind, something could be going on elsewhere, but Concord was incredibly remote from most of human interest.
And, God, he didn’t need problems with Brazis, who was a competent, quiet administrator, to color his lifelong term of office.
He didn’t need any Ambassador Gide—political ideologues with ambitions were always to fear. Earth was known, occasionally, to stir things up on the fringes to make some political point at home.
Spies were also to fear, individuals who might have damning reports to give such a ship, but they were always present, people either sent here by various interests ranging from commercial to political—his chief of security, Dortland, had given him a small watch list—or persons born here and ambitious for advancement they couldn’t get under his administration: his personal list of the latter ilk started with one Lyle Nazrani, who had his financial fingers in the new station construction, who was high up in the banking industry, and who’d raised hell about the arena contractors and a dozen other issues in the new station construction, anything to get on the news. Therewas a man who’d lose no time getting a private interview with Mr. Ambassador Gide, and Reaux was equally determined not to let that happen.
Say what Earth would, however, and no matter what politicking might advance some party on Earth or some ambitious idiot on station—the ondatpresence had a major say in matters on Concord, too. The ondatalways had a major say at Concord, and might just very easily decide, for at least a decade, that they viewed Concord as still within their sphere of territory, in which case…
In which case the shadowy presence that existed within their sealed section might pull that section off, as they had done, once and twice in the worst times of Concord’s history, when the whole fragile peace had nearly shattered. Let Earth remember that,if Earth wanted to interfere with Concord’s smooth running. The ondatmight suddenly move in a warship and exert a greater power over Concord administration and over what ships came and went, all Earth’s ambitions be damned, and never mind the local human economy. That had happened more than twice—economic disaster, from which Concord had taken decades to recover.
And no one wanted to think of a situation that might cause that quiet presence, that sometimes amusing, sometimes sinister presence, to wake up and become actively involved. They lived with the ondat. Concorders saw the sleek, frighteningly massive ships that slid up to the station at irregular intervals and did their business, saying nothing, having no intercourse with any human. They knew that, beyond the walls of that independent section, something lived that veiled itself in shadow, in ammonia-reeking murk, and carried on inquiries that made no human sense… no oneplayed politics with the ondat. That was the very point of Concord’s neutral existence, was it not?
And, pressed to the wall, faced with a threat, as he’d reminded himself last night in the throes of the tax records—he did have good relations with the ondat,with (the only name they knew) Kekellen. Earth would be well-advised, would it not, to leave that situation undisturbed?
Kekellen had sent him a message yesterday through the symbol translator: Ship Earth?Meaning, roughly, What in hell’s this untimely ship doing here, and should we care?
His own linguists had replied: Ship Earth unclear word. Reaux talk this ship. Talk Kekellen soon.
Soon.
Well, that was a stall, no question, and sufficient to the day the trouble thereof. Those pesky abstracts like soon, if,and whyhad taken the linguists and the ondatages to work out. He ordinarily hated it when his experts used abstracts to Kekellen. Stick to solids, he’d say. Keep it concrete, especially if it’s an emergency. Don’t seem to promise things.
Wehave a situation with the ondat,he could legitimately say, however, carefully citing that message. Keep it quiet, please, Mr. Ambassador Gide.
Thatwas the ultimate power of a Concord governor, after all, wasn’t it, the ultimate argument for keeping Earth’s fingers off Concord politics—the ominous foreign presence that sat, cocooned in its own segment of Concord Station, occasionally insinuating its robotic errand-runners past what had once been a tightly sealed barrier. The ondathad, in the last century, breached whatever moderate quarantine had once existed, had begun to do so during the last two governorships, beginning with random inquiries to ordinary offices and citizens…
And lately taking delivery of orange juice, table salt, live lettuce, and eight canisters of chlorine, which it just confiscated from various shops and storehouses. Figure thatone. Last week it had taken a sculpture from a good neighborhood. It scared hell out of the merchants. No one claimed to understand it.
He should report the sculpture theft to the Earth ship. Let them worry about it.
NO QUESTION the see mefrom the governor’s office had to do with the ship incoming. The invitation suited Antonio Brazis, even at this late hour. He was just as anxious to see Setha Reaux and know what Reaux knew before this untimely ship got to dock and sent its electronic tentacles running into their affairs.
He hoped to hell that Reaux’s personal fund-raising peccadillos hadn’t caught up with him. As governors went, Reaux was a good one—not immune to influence peddlers, especially close to the construction interests that formed a real power base in a station currently building its own replacement; but he had to maintain his own power base, and he was a sensible and honest man where it counted, regarding the overall welfare of the station. Infighting always swayed governors: wealthy expatriate Earthers arrived on Concord to assume what wasn’t, after all, a popularly elected office; and life-appointed governors grew corrupt primarily because they were outsiders in the lower-case sense, foreigners incapable of function if locally stymied and opposed. A man wanted to have allies, and Earth might appoint its governors from Earth itself, counting them more loyal, but local Earther descendants chose Station councilmen in hotly contested local elections, and oh, believe there was favor-trading, if a governor really wanted to get anything done, let alone done on time.
Outsider chairmen, for which Brazis was truly grateful, had no such considerations: the High Council at Apex life-appointed both the head of the Planetary Office and the Concord Chairman, both offices, in his case, vested in one person, and yes, local Outsider citizens held elections for civil posts and local Council, just like Earther citizens, though with far less fire and drama. The Earth governor thus remained forever at the mercy of his legislature, which directed day-to-day operation of station systems, managed trade with Earth and the Inner Worlds, and maintained control over the police, customs, and legal systems. In effect, a governor could ask, but had the devil’s own time enforcing policy, if he had not played the local game of favor-trading.
Not so, Brazis’s own office. Hetraded no favors. Concord’s local Outsider Council, lacking any power to regulate station operation, was more a debating society, handling zoning regulations and public services in its districts. Concord’s Outsider Chairman presided over the Outsider Council and appointed the head of the civil police in Outsider districts.