Deliberations: A Foreigner Short Story Read Online Free PDF Page B

extreme and its people too different. Humans had had a taste of closeness with atevi. They would not cross the straits. If there was anyone with something that extreme to fear— humans should be afraid, because there were very many atevi who thought the numbers could be changed.
    Even she would not go that far. And she did not favor humans.
    Still— people were down at the foot of the hill, storing food in their houses, storing water, buying candles, cleaning old hunting pieces. The number of requests to the Assassins’ Guild for hired protection of buildings, businesses, and even private homes was reportedly unprecedented.
    Nonsense, all of it. She had built the aishidi’tat. The legislature might not admit it. The histories later written might not say so. But it was her handiwork, in all ways that mattered. And she would not destroy it.
    She heard the door of the apartment open, not the quiet passage of a servant bearing a message, but a more disturbing presence. She heard quick footsteps pass her door, and heard the rattle of weapons.
    Something had arrived.
    More footsteps, softer, but quick. A quick knock and the door opened to let in one of the youngest servants. “Aiji-ma. Your grandson—”
    One could think of calamity after calamity while the lad drew a whole breath.
    “Is here, aiji-ma. With his aishid.”
    “Indeed?” She rose from her chair. There was a sound of voices in the outer hall. “Tell Cenedi-nadi I shall see my grandson. With his aishid, if he insists.”
    “Aiji-ma.” The boy ducked out, softly closing the door.
    Well, she thought, and straightened the lace at her cuffs. She had dressed for the occasion. She wore a formal coat, black, black lace at her throat with a scatter of small rubies. Two rings she prized. She looked as she chose to look, aiji-regent, and nothing less.
    Steps approached the door, booted steps, in number. Her grandson— his aishid, and since she had not heard any altercation in the hall, Cenedi and her bodyguard.
    The door opened. Her grandson came in. Alone. The bodyguards stayed in the hall, facing each other, ready to blow each other to oblivion.
    “Grandmother.” Not her title. Certainly not the deferential aiji-ma.
    “Grandson.”
    “Tomorrow,” he said, “I become of age.”
    “One has not forgotten. One understands you will claim the aijinate. Have you come to ask our opinion? Or have you other notions?”
    Tabini made a gesture toward the open door. “There is no provision for this moment. The legislature created the regency. They set the age at which an aiji can be elected. They made no provision for how a regent ends a regency. The last time— did my father even ask?”
    “Not for three years.”
    “I ask.”
    She lifted a dismissive hand. “Ask away, but we cannot end it. Only the legislature can. At least let us not put the burden on our bodyguards.”
    “One agrees to that. One wonders— whether we should remove the decision from the legislature.” A shrug. “The streets are empty, down there. People expect war. One hopes not. I recall Malguri is very fine this time of year.”
    “It has bitter winters.”
    “Endure a few.”
    She had to smile. She nodded. “At your request, Grandson. But accept one piece of advice. Do not trust Wilson-paidhi.”
    “Is that all your advice?”
    “That will suffice. The rest you can discover for yourself. Shall I tell you where I put the keys? Or where my files are? If you ask nicely, I might.”
    “Grandmother.” It was a warning tone.
    “Be a good lad, and I shall be a helpful grandmother.”
    “You will be in Malguri!”
    “That might be well,” she said. “I should be hard-pressed to spare my advice when you make mistakes. And you will make mistakes.”
    “Grandmother.”
    “Ah, well, well.” She waved a hand. “Take your aishid and go. Or express your gratitude that I did not move against you.”
    He stared at her. He had a very effective stare...with other opponents. She had withstood it