“No,” she replies with a smile. “We will be happy to give you what you need, provided Chancellor Benesit agrees.”
“While I’d prefer it if my advisers would handle things with more delicacy,” Isae says, sharp, “Thuvhe does need to protect itself. It would be helpful to have another long-distance weapon to use against Shotet, to keep from having to fight a war on land or in the sky—as a last resort, you understand. Their combat skills are quite advanced, as we all know. And none of our ships are equipped to make use of such a weapon.”
“Then it is settled,” Chezel says, picking up his glass.
My throat feels tight. I strain against it, fighting to make a sound, any sound. Finally, the only thing I can think to do is to knock my fist against the table. I squeeze Isae’s hand, tightly, hard enough to crack her knuckles.
“Wait a moment,” Isae says. “Cisi’s currentgift unfortunately prevents her from speaking freely in some situations, and she clearly has something to say.”
“Thank you,” I manage. “I am—curious about something.”
“What’s that, dear?” Harth says. I don’t like her tone. It makes me feel about an izit tall.
“My father told me not to trust any deal where one person gains more than the other,” I say. I raise my eyebrow. I can’t quite ask the question, but I feel like I’ve gotten close enough.
“That is a good point,” Isae says quietly. “What will Othyr expect in return for its generosity?”
“Is the defeat of a galaxy-wide pest not enough of a reward?” Harth says.
I shake my head.
“There’s no precedent for this level of cooperation between us,” Isae says. “We maintain a neutral relationship because we depend on each other for the good of both Othyrians and Thuvhesits, but—”
“But we often find ourselves on different sides of particular issues, yes,” Harth says.
“Most notably,” Sharva says, speaking for the first time. His voice is a rumble, but thin, no richness to it. “Most notably, in the decision to release the fates of the favored lines to the public.”
“Yes,” Isae says tersely. “A decision that affected my planet disproportionately, as we are possessed of not one, but three favored families.”
“Nonetheless, Othyr stands behind its decision,” Sharva says. “And wishes to press for even greater oversight of the oracles moving forward.”
Ast sits back. His face is unreadable. But he doesn’t seem uncomfortable, to me. I guess I always just assumed he didn’t like me because of my currentgift, but maybe it’s my oracle mother, too. Maybe he’s on Othyr’s side in this whole thing.
“And you want Thuvhe’s support,” I say. “In exchange for weapons.”
It’s clear to me now, what the oracle Vara meant. Don’t trust the Othyrians. Don’t let her agree to it, whatever you do. This has to be the “it” she was talking about—a promise of support.
“We would hope that giving Thuvhe support now would encourage you to rethink your position on the oracles,” Sharva clarifies. “We know that Thuvhe is not an overly fate-faithful nation-planet; that it, too, wishes to embrace the future of this galaxy, and set it up for success rather than failure.”
“What kind of oversight of the oracles are you talking about?” Isae says.
“We simply want to be aware of what the oracles discuss, and what plans they are making given the future they see unfolding,” Harth says. “They make decisions on a regular basis that affect all of us. We wish to know what those decisions are. We wish to have access to the information that they possess.”
I feel . . . quiet. Not unlike the way I feel when Akos holds my hand, like all the current has gone still around me. In the past few weeks, I saw my own mom manipulate Akos into killing someone, just because she wanted the man gone. I saw her let my oldest friend die when she probably could have prevented it. She says those actions were for the greater good. But what if we don’t agree on what that “greater good” is? Should she get to decide without anybody looking over her shoulder?
Even the warning the oracle Vara gave me is manipulation. What future is Vara trying for? Is she working for my best interest, or Thuvhe’s, or Ogra’s, or the oracles’? Don’t let her agree to it. Should I listen, or no?
I chew on the inside of my cheek.
“Who will be able to access this information? Anyone who wants it?” Isae asks. “The wide release of the fates didn’t turn out well for many on my planet.”
“It will be limited, of course, to the Assembly,” Harth says. “We do not want to endanger the public.”
Isae’s head bobs, slowly.
“I’d like some time to talk this over with my advisers,” Isae says. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” Harth says. “Let us eat, and move to lighter topics. We can talk in the morning, when you have made your decision.”
Isae inclines her head, agreeing.
CHAPTER 40: CISI
“NOT SURE WHY WE even need to talk about this,” Ast says gruffly.
We are in Isae’s temporary quarters on Othyr. He stands against a wall of light—a window so wide and clean it doesn’t seem to be there at all. The sun is setting behind Othyr’s glass buildings, the light refracting a dozen times over so the whole city sparkles orange. Right when we got here Ast unbuttoned his cuffs, so now they flap around his wrists whenever he gestures.
I sigh, and rub my temples with both hands. For all that Ast pretends to be a low-class mechanic from the brim, he’s not a fool—he knows this isn’t some simple exchange, Othyrian aid in exchange for a promise. It’s a tipping point for what kind of nation we’re going to be. Enemies of Othyr . . . or enemies of the oracles.
And then there’s the issue of the weapons.
“I just promised Cyra Noavek time before we pushed Ogra for Shotet deportation,” Isae says. “And now you want me to pursue an aggressive response instead of a diplomatic one. That’s why we need to talk about it.”
“Diplomacy.” Ast snorts. “Did Shotet go for a diplomatic solution in Shissa?”
The room is already so tense I can’t talk. I feel it like the humid air in a greenhouse, filling my mouth. I try to counter it with a clumsy press of my currentgift, sending the feeling of water everywhere like an overturned bucket. Ast’s mouth twists with disgust, and I pull back a little.
“Setting aside the issue of weaponry for a moment,” I say gently, “there is also the issue of oracle oversight.”
“I don’t give a shit if Othyr wants to keep an eye on the oracles,” Ast says. “Why do you?”
“That’s the problem—that Othyr will keep an eye on them, and not anyone else,” Isae says. “You don’t know these people like I do. Othyr exerts an extraordinary amount of control over the Assembly. If the information gleaned from oracle oversight is only released to the Assembly, it is essentially giving Othyr control over the fates instead of the oracles, which is only trading one problem for another.”
“You’re being indecisive,” Ast says. “You’ve been like this since we were kids. You don’t want to do something unless you can practically guarantee its outcome.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Not a word, not a sound. Isae is too focused on Ast to notice me struggling. Don’t let her, Vara’s voice says in my mind. What the hell am I supposed to do to stop her? I ask her, in my head. I can’t even talk!
“I asked you to come here because I thought you would keep me honest,” she says to Ast. “But you have to acknowledge that you don’t have experience with all this.”
“It’s because I don’t have experience that I can make it clear for you,” he says, moving closer.
Water, water, I think. I remember sinking to the bottom of the warm pool in the temple when Mom taught me to swim, how pleasant the light pressure of water around my head had been. A gentle squeeze.
“I don’t know politics, it’s true,” he says, more quietly now. “But I know Shotet, Isae. We both do.”