#24 – Policy Shift
Fortunately, Paul Soundman took charge of me. He tapped King Tildar on the shoulder. “Where’s Cilron? Ambassador Dorsey is looking for him.”
The king turned, and I saw he was talking to Bejun Gupta. Bejun and I were so surprised to see one another we just nodded. The king said, “Cilron’s in his office. Anything I can do for you?”
As diplomatically as possible, I explained I was carrying a message from Ding to Cilron. With equally neutral language the king explained that Officers Territory was closed to non-crew. “I’ll see her there,” Paul said, “I have a pass because of the concert.”
The line to Lonnie’s clinic stretched along the wall of the throne room/restaurant. We passed a Tripodian juggler entertaining a fascinated crowd, children sitting in front. I counted seven balls and a twirling baton. Bejun Gupta wasn’t the only person from Lake Fort, nor was that the only community represented. Ding was going to be furious.
Even Paul’s VIP pass barely got me into Officer’s Territory. Cilron sat at his terminal and his first words were: “Paul. You’re needed. Dewie plugged something in and the sound system popped.”
“Duty calls.” Paul gave me a sad look. “The concert is chaos. The prince has not practiced. Shanana and Treblen keep slipping out early. Dewie can’t find the right key on the piano and Aidiane is telling everyone off. There’s some kind of flap going on in the Tripodian choir. But, and this makes me proud, the Polynesian dancers are ready.”
Cilron tipped his hand towards the chair at the corner of his desk. I sat. “I’m sorry Ding kept you waiting all morning.”
“Did he tell you to say that?” Cilron kept typing, his fingers stroking his keyboards. His computer screen was split, one side moving up, the other moving down.
“No. Ding didn’t think you would mind, that it wasn’t much time to you.”
“He’s correct. The best way to hunt is to sit at a waterhole and wait for game to come. I have spent whole days on Earth, waiting.”
Despite his affable answers, the conversation felt like a heavy stone I was endeavoring to roll uphill. “I came through the plaza on Diplomat’s Walk. There is a lot you didn’t tell us.”
“Decisions were made after you left the breakfast table, Esther. I stand aside when my part is played.”
“What are you saying?”
“My prince has thanked me for my services and now dispenses with them.”
“Because Ding wouldn’t talk to you this morning? That’s unkind and unfair!” I was shocked. “We were getting used to dealing with you.”
“I’ll be around.” His left hand went still. One side of the screen turned dark.
“Are you joking?” I demanded.
“No.” His fingers steepled; the screen blanked. “Don’t look so concerned. His Highness has taken personal charge of the peace process. Unlike me, he has never spent a day in his life waiting for deer to come drink.” Like a conjuring trick, a sheet of paper extruded from the wall. Cilron tore it off and gave me the list of the Space Rangers he had promised Ding. “I’ll take you back to the transfer elevator.”
“Engers thinks that it’s something Theta is doing.”
“Clever young man. He’s right.”
I was stunned. “It isn’t some form of highly advanced technology?”
“No,” replied Cilron. The implications multiplied in my mind. If the prince was the unseen joker in the deck, Theta was the wild card that trumped all others.
“I am not sure what changed Theta’s mind, but yesterday she went with Captain Nakajima to the forts to retrieve his men. She saw the situation in the outlying areas. With her support the prince has no practical barrier to implementing his own policy. Please help General Ding see the war is over. He has, in fact, won.”
“Ding did offend, didn’t he, by not talking to you when he had the chance.”
“I don’t take offense because the deer don’t come,” said Cilron.
*-*-*
The next morning, outside the medical tent, a person in black clothing watched me approach. His demeanor was so forbidding I stopped in dismay. This was the same angry-looking warrior who had come to see Lonnie. I retreated ignominiously and knocked on Ding’s door.
“A moment,” he called. When the door opened, he stood resplendent in his best uniform. My heart lifted. Ding always gave the impression he knew what to do. Incoherently, I babbled my news. Ding took it in stride. “Is there any coffee left?”
Fortified, he strolled outside. The black-avised warrior opened his shields in a fan-shape, barring the way. Ding stopped, looked the warrior up and down and snapped a salute. The Circle warrior responded, touching the center of his chest. He stepped aside.
