Off-Grid
“What did you think of our Haosa?” Bentamin chastaMeir asked, as he guided the car down the road to Haven City. Unlike the city streets, there was only the truck link on this road, which meant all other drivers were required to navigate manually.
Majel glanced at him.
“I liked them,” he said slowly. “As we all agreed, Trader yos’Galan’s instincts are sound. You know that I’ve long believed the Deaf and the Haosa ought to make common cause.”
“Yes, against Civilization!” Bentamin laughed, and glanced at Majel before returning his attention to the road. “And you refused the compliment of being recognized as a revolutionary!”
“I’m only trying to effect necessary change—”
“Which is, I believe, the precise definition of revolutionary.”
“It sounds more violent than I intend,” Majel protested.
“Yes, we would all like our opponents to be persuaded to a more sensible course by the brilliance of our arguments. Unfortunately, it rarely happens that way. Do I recall that you were attacked in your own casino, and a school targeted in Pacazahno Village, by people who believe the Deaf are unfit to govern—even themselves?”
“You do,” Majel admitted. “Both incidents are proof that violence changes nothing.”
“No?”
“No. I haven’t resigned my seat, nor has Pacazahno Village accepted an oversight board composed of Civilized experts, to protect them and keep them from error.”
There was a pause before the Warden said, “True. I hadn’t thought of it in those terms.”
Ahead, the road curved, and it seemed that Bentamin had put his whole attention into navigating the car.
When the road was straight again, he said, “My cousin Tekelia would rather not take the Haosa seat at Civilization’s table.”
“I thought I saw reluctance—or at least resignation. Do you think Speaker vesterGranz will come to the table, even lacking the approval of the rest of the Haosa?”
“Tekelia is certainly capable of doing just that. And reluctance aside, I believe my cousin does see the need.”
“Well, the Oracle’s Seeing—”
“That, I think, weighs less than the arrival of the trade mission,” Bentamin said. “Tekelia sees the opening of Colemeno to more ships as an opportunity for the Haosa. That’s why Blays essWorthi has been brought forth as Speaker pro tem—so Tekelia can visit the master trader on his ship.”
Majel sighed. “Now there is a missed opportunity,” he said ruefully. “Had I known it was possible—”
“There’s still time, surely?” Bentamin sounded amused.
“Time, and more ships incoming,” Majel agreed. “Still…”
“Still,” Bentamin agreed. “Maybe we can make a delegation.”
“That’s not a bad notion. I’ll put it to Trader yos’Galan.”
“Let me know what she says.”
“I will.” Majel paused. “What do you think,” he said slowly, “of Blays essWorthi?”
“I think she’s well-chosen to hold the office of Counsel to Chaos. And you?”
“I found her…interesting,” Majel said temperately, trying not to think of a pair of warm amber eyes, or light hair floating around a triangular face. “I’m looking forward to seeing her again.”
“Ah,” Bentamin said softly. “Yes, it will be interesting to see what she makes of the Wardian and the Council. Speaking of revolutionaries, I think you have an ally in her, as you do in me. Have I given you my emergency number?”
Majel turned his head to consider the Warden’s profile.
“You haven’t, no. Is there a reason that I ought to have it?”
“I like to keep my allies close. The number is seven.”
“Seven?” Majel repeated. “That’s the whole of it?”
“Who has time to recall and punch six digits in an emergency? The number seven entered into any comm unit will reach me directly.”
Majel laughed, and spread his hands. “Thank you; I’ll use it only at need.”
“Which is exactly why you should have it.”