Quiet Invasion(33)

“Good luck, Ambassador Z’eth,” said T’sha. “I was on my way to your offices from here.”

“No doubt to speak of things it is not appropriate to discuss in temple.” Z’eth dipped her muzzle. “Shall we leave so we may converse freely?”

“Thank you, Ambassador.”

Z’eth and T’sha let themselves be blown through the temple corridors and out into the open air.

As soon as they were a decent distance from the temple’s walls, T’sha said, “I have the promissory for you regarding the imprinting service for the cortices grown in your facilities.”

“Excellent.” Z’eth tilted her wings and deflated so she descended smoothly alongside the High Law Meet. It was a delicate path, as the winds between the walls were strong and unpredictable. T’sha followed but had to flap clumsily to keep herself from being brushed against the painted-shell wall.

“I have not envied you these past hours, Ambassador.” Z’eth whistled sympathetically. “It is hard during your first term, especially if your first term is a historic one.” One of the arched corridor mouths opened behind them, but Z’eth wheeled around, dipping under the corridor instead of entering it T’sha followed her into the shallow, irregular tunnel underneath the real corridor, a little surprised.

Z’eth drifted close, her wings spread wide. Her words brushed across T’sha’s muzzle. “You needn’t worry about the vote. Your quiet promises and the work Ca’aed has done with Gaith have been most impressive. I have spoken where I can. Between us all we have turned the flow. You’ll have your appointment.”

T’sha nearly deflated with relief. At the same time she was conscious of Z’era’s steady gaze on her. Despite the promises she had already made, she still owed the senior ambassador, and it was a debt that would need to be paid before long.

T’sha resolved not to worry about that now. “Thank you again, Ambassador Z’eth.”

“You are welcome. I will see you in the voting chamber.” Z’eth lifted herself to the corridor mouth and disappeared inside.

T’sha floated where she was for a moment, remaining in place more because she was in a calm than from actual effort.

They had towed Gaith’s corpse encased in its quarantine blanket into Ca’aed’s wake. The rotting had so deformed it that it looked less like a city than an engineer’s experiment gone hideously wrong. Its people worked on it diligently, sampling and analyzing and salvaging, but it would have taken a thicker skin than T’sha’s not to feel the despair in them. It had taken Gaith a handful of hours to die. Who knew which village, which city, might be next?

And here was T’sha, doing her best to keep them all from what looked like the nearest safe course. She had quizzed the team supervisors from the other candidate worlds extensively. The seeds had not taken hold on any other of the ten worlds. Only Number Seven could readily support life.

But life might already have a claim on Number Seven. In spite of all, T’sha could not let that fact blow past. She had to see for herself that D’seun’s team was not ignoring a legitimate claim on the part of the New People. Now, according to Z’eth, she was going to get her chance.

Is this right, what I do? Life of my mother and life of my father, it has to be, because it is too late for me to do otherwise.

She shut her doubts off behind calculations about how many promises she could deliver before she was called to hear the vote. She lifted herself to the corridor mouth and joined the swarm of ambassadors and assistants propelling themselves deep into the Meet.

In the end, she was able to deliver four of the eight notes, staying long enough to give and accept polite thanks with each ambassador and discuss general pleasantries and the work being done on Gaith. She had to use her headset to leave message for the rest. The Law Meet was calling them all to hear the results of the latest poll.

When T’sha arrived, the spherical voting chamber already brimmed with her colleagues. There were no perches left. She would have to float in the stillness and try to keep from bumping rudely into anyone else.

“Good luck, T’sha,” murmured tiny, tight Ambassador Br’ve as she drifted above him.

“Good luck,” added Ambassador T’fron, whose bird tattoos were still fresh on his skin.

Their wishes warmed her, but not as much as the security of Z’eth’s promise.

T’sha found a clear spot in which to hover near the ceiling. Because the High Law Meet was currently on the dayside, the family trees, which were written in hot paints, glowed brightly against the white and purple walls. Each showed the connections and the promises of connection between the First Thousand. T’sha scanned the trees for her family’s names and found them, unchanging and immutable. She was their daughter. Her ancestors had birthed cities. She would save them, but not at the cost of their people’s souls.