“Bury’s personal ship.”

“Yes. Kevin and Bury did a lot of things together, but one of them was to fully, rigorously investigate anomalies that could indicate that Moties had somehow broken the blockade.”

“But there are no Moties on Maxroy’s Purchase!”

Renner cut in again “Nope. Turned out all that “gripping hand” crap was Jackson himself. Making much of his tour as an Able Spacer on the first expedition.”

“Yes,” said Horvath, “but more to the point, it meant Sinbad was on hand when the Crazy Eddy jump point from Mote Prime shifted last year.; the Sister opened; all of that.”

HG’s eyes widened. “You mean Sir Kevin—”

“Yes. Fewer than two dozen people have ever had direct contact with Moties. Precious few of us have ever been to the Mote system. Sir Kevin Renner’s done it twice, and lived to tell the tale. The second time, with Sinbad. Bury did it twice as well, but didn’t make it back the second time. Died on the final jump. Like Moses, who saw, but could not enter, the promised land.”

He let HG chew on that. Renner continued. “So, here I am again. Like a bad penny. Johnny on the spot. The Navy’s strapped beyond limits maintaining this blockade, plus policing the Motie Consortium blockade at the Sister. It’s not going to dedicate a ship just to play ferryboat. The Imperial Traders Association—”

“—and the True Church, and Governor Jackson—”

“yes, all of them, offered, but they aren’t exactly neutral ground, are they?

“Neither are you.”

“Well, no, neither am I, but Imperial Autonetics already passed on the opal meerschaum trade when Bury was alive. And profitable as a few containers of selenium supplements and medical supplies might be for a small trader, not really my style, is it? Get bogged down shipping vitamins, fertilizer, and rocks? I’m as neutral as you’re gonna get right now.”

Renner gave that grin again. HG detested that grin. Renner was getting to old to play fighter-jock cocky. “I still don’t see where Moties come into it.”

“They don’t. Let’s just say I’m curious. Back to where it started last year. The True Church thinks New Utah is Heaven, all evidence to the contrary. Thought I’d take a break and see what all the fuss is about.” And, he thought, Bury always felt there was too much money in this system, opal meerschaum aside. We never found out why.

Horvath looked at him sharply, but let it slide. “So, from a science and technology standpoint, the earnestness of this mission is twofold. First, all the normal accession concerns—accurate assessment of existing levels and accomplishments; whether introduction of Imperial technology would be destabilizing, and so forth. And related to that, prevention of S&T leeks during the assessment and classification phase. No leading questions; no idle chatter, all that.”

“Yes, yes.” HG was flapping his hand. He really was good at that part of his job, which is why he’d been chosen as ground man.

“But in this case, given the proximity to the New Caledonia System, and the Crazy Eddy jump point from the Mote, there’s the added concern of inadvertent transfer of Motie technology.”

“What Motie technology? I mean, Imperial Autonetics pretty much has a lock on what’s available for public sale.” He trailed off. “Oh. I see.”

This time, Kevin did not grin. He smiled. “Yes. And Imperial Autonetics would very much like to maintain that prerogative. We have a keen interest in preventing—and detecting—piracy.”

“So your interest isn’t just personal.”

“Let’s call it professional curiosity.”

In the end, like most well-run meetings, there were no surprises. Kevin and the Sinbad crew would host; Kevin would pilot; Kevin would have broad discretion to determine whether any violations of Imperial Autonetics licensing, production, trademarks, or copyrights had occurred.

Governor Jackson would head the delegation, not in his official capacity as governor of Maxroy’s Purchase, but as Emissary of the Viceroy. The True Church would send Bishop Ohran, who had led the secret supply missions from Maxroy’s Purchase for decades.

Horvath himself would not go. He was not a young man. He had other duties elsewhere in the Empire and, since the Trans-Coal Sack Science Minister was tied up with Motie issues, HG would have to soldier on.

To his mortified disappointment, the Maxroy’s Purchase ITA representative was upstaged by another from out-of-sector. Officially, there had been no trade with New Utah during the embargo, so initial ITA representation was reserved for a “neutral,” meaning not-Maxroy’s-Purchase, party.

Since he was already on the ground, Colchis Barthes would get a temporary appointment as cultural attaché. There would be a small uniformed Marine bodyguard. No mention was made of Asach.

So, all-in-all, Jackson was satisfied: he and Ohran covered Church and State; HG was from New Cal, so local and presumably sympathetic; Barthes didn’t matter; the ITA rep could angle all he wanted, but MP held proximity, which was the biggest fact on the ground; and Renner was, well, Renner. Nominally acting on behalf of himself; Imperial Autonetics; of service to the Empire. Renner was the loose cannon, but it couldn’t be helped.

They’d be ready to leave within the week, as soon as the ITA rep arrived. Sinbad would travel to Maxroy’s Purchase, then hold station at the jump point. Jackson would keep a shuttle on standby, so that the delegation could work planetside as needed, then rejoin Sinbad once the jump point opened.

6

Hostile Takeover

I came to hate nations. We are deformed by nation-states. I wanted to erase my name and the place I had come from,…not to belong to anyone, to any nation.

—Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

Mesolimeris, New Utah

The Masters’ dais, warmed by geothermal swells, glowed faintly in the crisp air of The Keep. Sargon lounged, the smooth curves of the seat cupping the lines of his hips to provide effortless repose. Stragglers were still arriving, some with finesse; some grandstanding, using the gripping hand to lever themselves, with one brute-force jerk, over the final ascension step into the cave. Only old Lagash had been too weak to complete the climb.

A pity, thought Sargon. Old Lagash had been a good ally. He had tended to his ar, Kept three counties, and in a pinch could lend a Master’s Hand for planting. A pity. Now redistribution of his ar and cattle would be decided, for Lagash had no offspring. It would make for a long, dull Meeting.

Sargon was tempted by this, but only briefly. A mess, indeed. No doubt, most of the ar would be wasted settling fictitious land debts. A better tactic: watch for the Landholder most eager to grasp the least of the ar. That Landholder would be the one to court. That’s how he’d come by Farmer John, and look how well that had turned out. Started with a Field, turned it to a Grasp, and that very nearly to a Hand. Not that John admitted to it all, but all you had to do was count his cattle. Cattle, anyone could come by—foolish ones by selling ar. Sell the bowls; sell the cattle; but never, ever part with ar. And of all your cattle, treat your Farmers best. Buy the best; raise the best—and they will deliver you a post for a span.

The dais was filling—nearly full. Head to head, feet to feet, only Lagash’s place empty. The sun had climbed enough to send liquid rays slanting up into the ceiling. They reflected off that glassy dome and suffused the chamber with warm light. As senior Keeper, Gilgamesh began the round, and each joined in response: