“Particularly in times of flux.” Iyal shoved tones of agreement into her voice. Inside she wondered, what are you trying to tell me, Zur-Kohlbyr?
“A state of affairs the Vitae appreciate, I can assure you,” said Basq. “I trust, however, Zur-Iyal, that you will not be hesitant to expedite matters as much as possible.”
The image of Arla at the research table flashed in front of Iyal’s inner vision.
“Naturally,” she answered, attempting to match Basq’s fluidity of speech. “So, as soon as you, Ambassador, submit documentation supporting your claims to my office, I’ll recall Arla Stone from field assignment and nullify her contract before witnesses.” Her stomach tightened as Zur-Kohlbyr smiled.
No, I haven’t forgotten any of the legalities, Cousin Director. Now why are you so glad about that?
“I wish to be perfectly clear and candid about the Vitae position at this time, Zur-Iyal,” said Basq. He leaned forward a very little, but even that much body language surprised Iyal. The Vitae usually moved like freeze-frame videos. One sharp, separated motion at a time. “When we have the artifact in our possession, we are leaving Kethran Colony. The reclamation of MG49 sub 1 will be absorbing all our resources. We will be forgiving all debts and contracts that tie Kethran to the Vitae.”
Iyal’s breath caught in her throat. Leaving? We hand you Arla and you’re away from here?
“We will, of course, be leaving all our hardware behind in payment for unfulfilled obligations on our side. We will also provide training manuals and AI software guides for the continued health and management of your colony, which has been our good client for over a decade.”
We’ll be rid of you? For good and all?
“My failure to reclaim the artifact will delay this operation,” added Basq.
“However, as I said, Ambassador, formalities must be observed,” cut in Zur-Kohlbyr. “Zur-Iyal will require supporting documentation before the contract is nullified.”
Basq was silent for a long moment. “She’ll have it,” he said at last. “I’ll contact your administrative assistant, Zur-Iyal, if I may, for the details regarding the extent of the documentation you will need and all the points it will have to cover.”
“Certainly,” said Iyal.
Basq rose and saluted her stiffly. “You’ll have what you require before tomorrow morning. Perhaps you should recall the artifact today?”
“When I have your documentation, Ambassador, I’ll proceed.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kohlbyr nod once. Again, he approved of her move. What was going on? His master-in-council had voted against the Vitae takeover, and here she was thwarting their removal with bureaucratic formalities and he was happy about it.
“Very well.” Basq saluted the Director. “We will continue this conversation tomorrow then.”
“My line will remain open for your message,” said Zur-Kohlbyr. The Director did not even stand. Basq’s scarlet robes fluttered as he left the room alone. Iyal wondered if the Vitae Ambassador knew he’d just been insulted.
I’ll bet he does. If he knows enough about my private politics to come across with the fact that I’m holding up their pullout, he surely knows about our manners. Killian’s calm, blue eyes gazed up from his portrait. She laid her hand across it to keep herself from seeing his face. She did not need a reminder of how alone she was right now.
Zur-Kohlbyr touched a key on the wall and the door to the waiting room slid shut. He leveled a wide grin toward Zur-Iyal. “I knew I could count on you, Cousin.”
“Forgive me, Cousin Director.” Iyal took her hands off the table and folded her arms across her chest. “But this sudden reacknowledgment of our family connection has got me a little confused.” She shifted her expression to a glower and her tenses to across-table casual, which was one step from insubordinate. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Zur-Kohlbyr’s smile was indulgent. “Iyal, these are serious events here. We have the chance to take the lead with them and shape Kethran’s future as a power in the Quarter Galaxy.”
Uh-oh. A gleam shone softly in the Director’s eye. He was smelling power and he had a keen instinct for it. It was a genetic tendency reinforced by the First Family environment. His branch had been particularly successful at applying it for a hundred years.
“The Vitae want our Arla.” He settled back and lifted his drink. “They want her more than I’ve ever seen them want anything since that business with passing the anticontraband measures. Now, why?” He sipped his gold liquid. “Would you like a drink?”