Why? she asked.

In answer a tear came uncontrolled from his eye. Ashamed, he wiped it off, and in the gesture won her to his side. Whatever side that was. Someone had done something to Ansset, something worse than his kidnapping, something worse than Mikal's death. She reached out to him, put her arms around him, and then said words that she had not thought ever to recall to her mind, let alone to her lips.

She spoke the love song to him, in a whisper, and he wept in her arms.

I'll help you, she said afterward. All I can, I'll help you. And you'll get your voice back, you'll see.

He only shook his head. Her chest was wet where his head pressed against her.

And then she led him to a stilt and stroked the panel that called the elevator, and as it descended she held him at arm's length from her.

My first help to you is this. To me you can cry. To me you can show anything and say anything you feel. But to no one else, Ansset, You thought you needed Control before, but you really need it now.

He nodded, and almost immediately his face became composed again. The boy hasn't forgotten all his tricks, she thought.

It's easier, he said, when I can let it out somehow. Now that I can't sing it out, he didn't say. But she heard the words all the same, and while he stood alone and walked easily beside her through the buildings, where anyone could see them, in the enclosed bridges that connected the buildings, leading them back to the manager's quarters, he reached to Kya-Kya, and took her hand.

For years she had hated Ansset as the epitome of everyone that had hurt her. It amazed her how easily that hate could dissipate, just because he let himself be vulnerable. Now that she could hurt him, she never would.

The chief of staff was beside himself with joy at Ansset's return; but he spoke to Kya-Kya, not Ansset, as he asked, Where did you find him? Where was he?

Coldly Ansset said to the man, She found me where I chose to be, Calip, and I returned when I chose to come. Deliberately he turned to Kya-Kya and said, Please meet me at eight o'clock in the morning, Kya-Kya. I would like you to be with me through tomorrow's meetings. Calip, I want supper at once.

Calip was surprised. He had been so much in the habit of giving Ansset his schedule and introducing people to him, it didn't occur to him until now that Ansset would have things his own way. After a moment of embarrassed inaction, Calip nodded his head and left the room.

As soon as the man was gone, Ansset looked at Kyaren with raised eyebrows.

That was pretty good," Kyaren said

Mikal was better at it, but I'll learn, Ansset said. Then he smiled at her, and she smiled back. But in his smile she still saw the traces of his fear, a hint of the expression on his face when he had pleaded for help.

And in her voice, as Kyaren said good-bye, he heard friendship. And he was, to his own surprise, certain that she meant it from the heart. Perhaps, he thought to himself, I may survive this after all.

7

It's very important, said the minister with the Latin portfolio. There has been bloodshed. Thirty people killed, that we know of, and ten of those in open combat.

Ansset nodded.

There's another complication, sir. While the Uruguayans and Paraguayans are willing to speak Imperial in this meeting, the Brazilians insist on speaking Portuguese.

Which is absurd, the chief of staff said, because the Portuguese don't even speak it anymore.

Ansset had never understood the purpose of multiple languages. He thought of it as an aberration of history, which had luckily been set to rights years before. And here, on the capital of the empire, was a rather large nation that clung to an anachronism to the point of antagonizing those who had power over them.

Do we have an Interpreter?

The chief of staff nodded. But he's one of them. No one here speaks Portuguese.

Ansset looked over at Kyaren, who smiled. She sat beside him, but deferentially pulled back from the table, appearing to be a secretary but actually ready to slip him a note. She had been studying this problem for weeks for the outgoing manager-she already had in mind several compromise solutions to the border war, depending on how cooperative they were. Since the Brazilians were currently in control of the land, their cooperation was the key to any solution. That Brazilians were famous for being uncooperative. Bring them in, Ansset said.

Two envoys entered from each nation. Protocol in this case demanded that they enter in order of age of the envoys, so that no nation would seem to get precedence. Ansset noticed, however, that each team included one who was very, very old. Odd, the things nations were willing to invest their pride in.

The chief of staff explained carefully the rules of the discussion. No interruptions would be tolerated. Any envoy who interrupted any other envoy would be summarily dismissed and no replacement would be allowed. They would ask Ansset for permission to speak, and would listen politely to all other speakers. Ansset was surprised that such instructions were necessary. In the imperial court it was all taken for granted.

Then everyone waited while the Brazilian interpreter translated the instructions into Portuguese. Ansset watched carefully. It was as he had suspected. The Brazilian envoys did not pay much attention to the translation-they had understood the Imperial perfectly well.

It was the sound of the language that fascinated Ansset. He had never before thought of shaping his mouth in just that way, using his nose to such good effect. It enticed him. As the interpreter spoke, Ansset formed the sounds in his mouth, felt them in his head. More than the individual sounds, he also sensed cadence, feeling, mood. The language was expressive, and without understanding the intensions of the language, he knew he could use it well enough to accomplish his purpose.

As soon as the interpreter was finished, the envoys all lifted their hands slightly off the table, palms facing Ansset-asking for permission to speak. Ansset impulsively turned to the Brazilian ambassador and began to sing. Not the music he had performed so often before. This was speech considered as song, and Portuguese language used for the sheer sound and power of it. If there were any recognizable words in it, it was an accident. But Ansset spoke on and on, delighted that he had not lost the power of imitation, working carefully to make this simple song touch the Brazilians as he wanted to touch them.

The Brazilians, one ancient man who did not seem altogether alert and a younger man with a look of resolute determination, were startled to hear their own language, then puzzled to try to decipher it. Even to them, it sounded like perfect Portuguese. But it was doubletalk, and the younger one looked angry for a moment, thinking he was being mocked.

By then, however, Ansset's tone had got through to them; they felt that despite the nonsense of his words, he was speaking affection and understanding to them. This is a beautiful language, he seemed to be saying, and I understand your pride in it What would have been mockery by anyone else was high praise when spoken by Ansset, and when he at last fell silent, looking intently at them, the Brazilians both arose from the table, walked around it, and approached Ansset.

The guards in the room, at least as puzzled by what had happened as anyone else, fingered their weapons. They relaxed, however, when Calip raised his hand, motioned them to relax. The old Brazilian first, and then the young one, embraced Ansset. It was an incongruous sight, the old man clinging to the beautiful boy, and then the tall younger man bending to touch his rough cheek to Ansset's smooth one.

While they were in the embrace, Ansset murmured, in Imperial, I beg you to speak Imperial so that the others can understand us.