There was one way to defuse it gracefully: diplomacy, the art of saying what one didn’t believe, in order to swing the behavior toward what one wanted: guidance, more than lying. So he needed to have had a special talk with them. He clearly needed to have a talk with them, but not now, with personal embarrassment in the mix. It was likely Banichi and Jago would have that talk—by now, he was sure they intendedto have it in Mosphei’ the minute they had the chance, and logically they wouldhave had it immediately with Toby’s personal guard, if Toby had arrived with onec which, of course, he hadn’t—unless one counted Barb. It was the sort of social glitch-up and attitude that had led to the War of the Landing. Humans were sure atevi would adapt to their very friendly way with just enough encouragement. Atevi—who didn’t even have a word for friendship— assumed humans, who seemed so intelligent, would eventually learn civilized manners. Atevi assumed since they owned the planet, humans were in theirhouse, while humans considered that they could just naturally get atevi to relax the rules, since their motives were the bestc or for mutual profit.
“Drinks will arrive momentarily,” Bren said quietly. “I do owe you both a profound apology for not mentioning certain things beforehand. This is a formal occasion. It’s my fault.”
“You’ve been here too long,” Toby said, and it came out like a retort.
“I live here,” Bren said, just a trifle unwisely: he knew that once he’d said it, and added, the truth: “I won’t likely live on Mospheira again. So yes, I’ve changed.” That, for Barb, just a trifle pointedly, and for Toby, with gentler intent: “I’ve done things a certain way so long I’m afraid I’ve lost part of my function as a translator, because I truly should have translated the situation. An atevi house is never informal—but tonight is official. Barb, forgive me, you have to keep a respectful distance from each other except in the bedroom. If someone does something for you in your quarters, bow your head just slightly and say mayei-ta. About the seating: Toby takes precedence because he’s my relative and this is my house; gender has no part at all in the etiquette.”
“You mean we just shocked them,” Barb said.
“Profoundly,” Bren said mercilessly. “The same as if they’d surprised you in bed.” He actually succeeded in shocking her— not in what he said; but where he said it. And the drinks were arriving. He smiled at Barb with edged politesse, and wiped the hardness off his face in a nod to his staff. “Mayei-tami, nadiin-ji. Sa heigieta so witai so kantai.”
Which was to say, “Thank you, esteemed people. Your service is timely and very considerate.”
“Mayei-ta,” Barb said with a little nod, on getting her drink. “Mayei-ta,” Toby muttered, “nadiin-ji.”
“A amei, nandi.” This from the young server, who did notaccord Barb a notice, except to use the dual-plus-one, to make the number fortunate, and who paid a second, parting bow to Bren, a unity of one. He left via the serving door, and Jago turned smartly and tracked the young person straight out of the dining room, probably to deliver a certain explanation to the staffc
What, that the lord’s brother-of-the-same-house was attempting to civilize the human he had brought under the lord’s roof? That Toby was likely equally embarrassed, put on the spot by the lady, and was trying not to make an issue of it?
Probably not. Jago was nota diplomat. The talk probably ran something like: “Bren-nandi tolerates this woman because his brother and this woman recently risked their lives in the aiji’s service. The lord will deal with his brother, who will, one hopes, deal forcefully with this woman.”
Certainly Jago was back in just about that amount of time, and took up her position on the other side of the serving door, stiffly formal.
“Good,” Toby had said, meanwhile, regarding the drink, and Barb had agreed.
“How is the aiji’s household?” Toby asked. “Is that all right to ask?”
“Perfectly in order,” Bren said in some relief, and relaxed a little, with a sip of his drink. “Everyone is in good health. Nand’ Cajeiri is back with his father and mother, the relatives have mostly gone back to the country— Ihave nowhere to live, since I’ve been using Lord Tatiseigi’s apartment while he was patching up the damage to his estate, and he’s on his way back to the capital.”
“Well, I’dthink you’d be a priority,” Barb said. “I don’t know why you’re shunted out to the coast.”
“I’m a very high priority,” he said equably, “but it’s his apartment. The aiji himself is still living in his grandmother’s apartment, since his residence was shot up; and mine just happens to be full of Southerners at the moment. It’s tangled. A defunct clan, the Maladesi, owned both this estate and the Bujavid apartment, both of which came to me; but they have remote relatives, the Farai, who claim to have opened the upper doors to the aiji on his return—someone did, for certain—never mind that Tabini was actually coming up from the basement; but the doors did open to a small force that was coming up the hill. It’s the thought that counts, so to say, and therefore there’s a debt. The Farai had taken over my apartment, in my absence, and they’re still in there, politely failing to hear any polite suggestion they move out.”
“And the aijican’t move them?” Toby said. “I’d think he could at least offer them a trade. Or you some other apartment.”
“Well, that’s easier said than done. Apartments in the Bujavid can’t be had: it’s on a hill, there’s no convenient way to build on, though some have suggested doing away with legislative offices as a possibility— The point is, there’s not only no place to put me, there’s no room for half a dozen other clans that had rather have that honor—some of them really deserving it. There’s a certain natural resentment among the conservatives that Istand as high as I do, so that’s a touchy point that publicity just doesn’t help. Andthe Farai are Southern, which is its own problem.”
“Aren’t they the batch that just rebelled?”
“Related to them. Neighboring district. Their opening the doors to the aiji was a clear double cross of Southern interests, but since Murini’s Southern allies suffered a rash of assassinations, and since clans have changed leadership, the whole political geography down there has shifted—somewhat. Understand: Tabini-aiji is Ragi atevi. North central district. The South is Marid atevi, different dialect, different manners, four different ethnic groups, and historically independent. They were dragged kicking and screaming into the aishidi’tat by Tabini’s grandfather; they’ve rebelled three times, generally been on the other side of every issue the aiji supports, but they are economically important to the continent—major fishing industry, southern shipping routes: fishing is important.”
“Nonseasonal.” Toby knew that: certain foods could only be eaten in certain seasons, but most fishes had no season, and were an important mainstay in the diet—one of the few foods that could be legitimately preserved.
“Nonseasonal, and essential. If it weren’t for the fishing industry, the seasonal economy would be difficult, to say the least. So the aishidi’tat needs the South, the Marid. Needs all that association, as it needs the western coast. All very important. And by promoting the Farai in importance—however inconvenient to me—the aiji can make important inroads into the Southern political mindset. You always handle the South with tongs, because, however annoying the Marid leadership has been to the aishidi’tat, the people areloyal to their own aijiin. The Farai are Senjin Marid, as opposed to the Tasaigin Marid and the Dojisigin Marid. They’re northernmost of the four Southern Associations, and they appear to have switched sides.”