Etain shrugged. “Your eyesight’s fine, then, Fi.”
“Neversssss…”
“I’ll tell you later,” she said. “Let’s show you the presidential suite and see what the care droid can do.”
“It’s okay, Fi.” Bralor took over. “I’ll be around, or else my sister’s kid will. Proper Mando home cooking. That’ll put you right faster than any of that aruetyc osik.”
But Fi was still looking at Etain’s bump, and Vau knew that he had enough recall to draw the very obvious conclusion. Without a major facial movement like a smile, it was hard to gauge his emotional state, but Vau couldn’t help thinking that it was a little disapproving, and that he might have been trying to say, You never said.
It was too easy to attribute thoughts and words to him. They’d have to take it slowly.
Vau left Jaing and the ladies to fuss over Fi and went to check on Ko Sai. Mird, back in its native environment, looked to him with a hopeful expression that begged permission to do what it enjoyed most: hunting.
“Okay, Mird’ika. I have to see Ko Sai anyway.” Vau pointed toward the trees. “Oya! Oya, Mird!”
The strill shot off at high speed and disappeared into the pocket of woodland to the north, and Vau went on his way. The bastion had started to acquire a routine like a real homestead, and now that Vau, Skirata, or one of the Nulls was around much of the time, Bralor was getting on with overseeing the building work for Skirata. It was definitely feeling yaim’la, and was a much bigger complex than Vau had first thought. Land was still free on sparsely populated Mandalore, as long as you didn’t want to cram into Keldabe. Up here in the north, a clan could spread out.
But I’m not part of this. I’m just passing through, understood?
The only part of the bastion that didn’t have that feeling of busy, wood-smoke-scented warmth was Ko Sai’s quarters, where it felt as if she’d created an exclusion zone that was every bit as unwelcoming as Tipoca City without managing to be clinical, white, or shiny.
She seemed to be draped over her desk-Kaminoans, all fluid elegance, didn’t bend. They curved. With her head lowered as she made notes, she looked as if she might droop completely.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Another day when I lament the lack of data from my last year’s work, but if you mean have I recorded more information on regulating the aging genes…”
“Let’s not insult each other’s intelligence. I do.”
“Then I have.”
“Well, my question’s not about that. It’s about motive. I still don’t understand why you’re withholding this information, because you’ve never made demands.”
“Wrong end of the ‘scope, possibly. Perhaps it’s because I want to stay alive as long as possible, in the hope that something in the circumstances will change, and I can resume my work unmolested.”
“Chancellor Palpatine bothered you most, didn’t he? That’s what made you go into hiding.”
“Anyone who creates powerful technology has a responsibility not to hand it to those who’ll misuse it.”
“I can sense you’re not from Rothana, somehow…”
“It depends on your definition of misuse.” Ko Sai never looked quite as imposing as she had on Kamino, and it wasn’t just the limited wardrobe now. Exile was eroding her resolve. There might come a time when she simply caved in. “But might I ask why it’s so important to you to restore normal aging to these clones? You’re not an irrationally emotional man like Skirata. Is it a commercial venture for you?”
“Am I going to rush to Arkania with it and invite bids? No. No commercial value except to those interested in subverting genetic rights management, who tend not to be those best able to pay anyway.”
“Curiosity, then, or to prove your interrogation skills?”
“No, it’s because it’s unfair to deprive them of a full life. Crushing the weak is the hallmark of a small mind.”
“The Jedi said Skirata wouldn’t sell the data, either, and would probably destroy it after he’d made use of it.”
“That’s Kal all right,” Vau said. “All he wants is to put his boys right.”
Vau tried to work out what was going through her mind, but even after years among Kaminoans, and getting to know this one better than he ever imagined he would, he reminded himself that using human motive as a basis for understanding them was probably a mistake. Apart from pride, he couldn’t map human concerns onto Kaminoans. The mismatch was probably what made Mereel think they were devious.