“What did they do?”
“They ask a few questions, take a physical tour. And go home. It scares hell out of Earth’s internal factions, is my theory. Just meddling around out here near the ondatdiverts attention from whatever they’re up to at home, and it’s far enough away nobody can possibly prove a thing. The game’s always the same.”
Deep breath. “My records indicate some sort of Outsider trouble.”
“Did they actually say that?”
“The word they used for the reason for their trip was consultations. I looked it up. They always say that precise word when they’re investigating Outsider trouble.”
Certainly information worth logging. “I can assure you their excuses are one thing; their intentions are likely for domestic capital. This is the last place either your people or mine want controversy.”
“Antonio. I want Blunt Street quiet. Very quiet. Bottom line, I want no trouble they can point to.”
“Earth demonstrating its god-given authority does provoke a certain natural sentiment on Blunt.”
“I want it astonishingly quiet. I know you can do it. I can’t stress enough how important it is that you do it.”
Clearly this was why Reaux had called him here: keep it quiet and we stay friends. Reaux was worried, whether on specific information or because it was the man’s nature to worry extravagantly.
“I advise you,” Brazis said, “with the friendliest of intentions—keep your secret police off Blunt.”
“Then you need to have your own police thick down there. Quietly. Discreetly. Without our visitors noticing it. Without stirring up Kekellen’s questions, God help us. You know me, Antonio. You know I mean it in the friendliest way, about trouble down there. My predecessor let Blunt get way out of hand, as was. They’ll remember that. It’s in your interest as well as ours not to let the old Blunt Street situation make any visible resurgence. We’ve made a great deal of progress in our two administrations. I don’t want it all unraveled because nowEarth gets some notion to find fault with your government over something that’s no longer an issue here.”
It wasthe trade question, smuggling, at the back of Reaux’s worries, Brazis would bet four months’ salary on it. But Brazis didn’t find smuggling an issue to be discussed, not here, not now, not in this context. Truth to tell, he had his own very uncomfortable feeling about Blunt at the moment, for reasons completely aside from that inbound ship, and any rash attempt to bring down the iron fist of Earth there could do particular damage to quiet investigations already in progress.
Fortunately the governor had a sense of how things on Blunt worked, too, and had given him as clear a signal as he could send without coming out and saying so, that he intended to divert attention away from Blunt.
“I don’t want it unraveled, either,” Brazis said. “The business with the old network has been delicate for years. What agency sent this Mr. Gide?”
“I don’t know. I’ll find out. I just ask your cooperation for a few days.”
“You certainly have that. Just leave the police work and the surveillance to us. You won’t see my agents. But I assure you they’ll be out there, in contact in ways you don’t have, and they are efficient.” He already knew one man he wanted to talk to personally, one of Apex Council’s little gifts, operating there currently completely independent of his office. But the existence of an Apex operative delving into whatever he was into, down in the Trend, needn’t concern Reaux’s office. “I’ll fix it.”
“Has Kekellen queried you?”
“Yes.”
“How did you answer?”
“I said Earth ship. Not Outsider.”
“Tossing the ball into my court.” Reaux said with a little compression of the lips. “Thank you, Mr. Chairman.”
“Absolutely. It isyour ship inbound.”
“A good idea to confer and compare, your experts and mine, if we get any stir out of the ondat.At least until this ship leaves.”
“But not to coordinate answers. He’d know. I’m quite sure he’d know.” Their resident ondatsent random inquiries, when he, she, or it was disturbed, and might ask a plumber on three deck what he thought of this inbound ship, if Kekellen took the notion. Contacts with other tiers of society might completely violate Outsider and Inner Worlds notions of security, but if Kekellen specifically queried a plumber on three-deck, he wanted an answer. University experts might get involved helping that plumber answer the letter, and there was a hotline to help such individuals, but that man had to answer in his own name, or Kekellen went on sending, jamming the system, to the detriment of all station business.
That was another kind of ondattrouble, one he was sure their governor didn’t need demonstrated in front of the incoming ship.
“That’s a point,” Reaux said. “That is a point. But I hope you’ll consult with us. At least cross-check what’s being said. Or asked.”
“And shall we cross-check what’s being said back and forth with this inbound ship?” Brazis asked.
“I’m sure you’ll know.”
“Oh, make it easy on us.”
Reaux heaved a visible, a desperate sigh. “Our offices have a good relationship. In all honesty, Antonio, I don’t know why this is happening. But if trouble does turn up, yes, I will communicate with you. I hope it’s reciprocal. If you hear anything.”
He leaned his arms on the chair. Considered the question. “All right. Let’s have a valiant try at honesty. I have a situation I’m keeping a particular eye on, down on Blunt. You’ll only mess things up if you send anybody down there to check up on it. If I identify a troublemaker, he’ll be off the street for a few days on a warrant for spitting on the street. Our police are extremely efficient. Keep your people out, and I’ll tell you what I find out. Do me another favor. Youfeed Kekellen enough basic information to keep him from querying our personnel and asking us questions we can’t answer.”
“Oh, now—”
“Nothing detrimental and nothing to do with that ship. We’re busy just now. We have a developing situation down on the planet.”
“Of interest?”
“Not political. Geological. We’re about to have a new sea, give or take a few decades. Or maybe sooner. Maybe much sooner. I’m getting alarms from the geologists. I’ve sent a briefing to your staff. I’ll send it to your office if you’re curious.”
“I’ll query them. I’m sure it’ll be in a briefing.” Reaux made those small movements, fussing with items on the desk, that began to say that new seas a decade removed were farther from his personal interest than that inbound ship or some fool of an activist down on Blunt. Given his doubtless full schedule, geology was likely very far from his interest. And the interview was over. “As for your person on Blunt, no difficulty, if you say so. I will appreciate your honesty.”
“We’ll exchange information as it becomes available.”
“Excellent.”
“A pleasure.” Brazis stood up and the governor stood up, mutual courtesy. They didn’t shake hands. “Visit myoffice when this is over.”
The governor of Concord never visited him in his own territory. The protocols—and certainly that residual Earthborn fear—kept Reaux from accepting Outsider hospitality. It was an ages-old official situation.
Reaux just smiled, as generations of governors had smiled benignly, and gave vague promises for a visit someday.
The bubble they lived in had its set of balances, its food chain, and until a high-level Earth ship showed up, the governor’s office was largely preoccupied with the internal business of its own society. The Earth governor never gave up a shred of his dignity, thin as it sometimes was, and never admitted that his power didn’t effectively extend to the fifth level of the station he ran. The Outsider Chairman never gave up a shred of his power, which was vested, in his case, not only in a population vastly outnumbering the Earther veneer on his station, but in an office that could impose martial law on this station and forbid that inbound ship a docking, no matter their objections—if he wanted to use it.