Lebna shifted with unease. Ishant couldn’t tell if it was the impending marriage or the man who made him uncomfortable. “Now that we have the space to do so, Geoboe clings to many of our ancient ways.”

“What does a jeli need with a cultural attaché?”

“What we in the Griot Circle love most: to be trusted with nyama and learn a new story.” Lebna swiped his wrist. A holovid of Matata being detained in an empty room coalesced in front of him. “Who’s this?”

“A person of interest in the matter of Xola’s death.”

“How ‘of interest’ is he?” Lebna inclined his body, inviting and honest, no intelligence-level-bullshit answer.

“My chief and only suspect,” Ishant said.

“Ah.” The answer seemed to satisfy Lebna, which meant he confirmed what the griot magistrate already knew. “Then he will not enjoy the comforts of home.”

“I have no doubt. And there is much we don’t know.” Ishant read something in Lebna’s face. Jaha often spoke about reading a person’s emi, but his rational mind wasn’t able to make that intuitive leap yet. Still, he recognized concern, a shadow the man didn’t wish to share. “What is it?”

“My friend, there’s no easy way to tell you this.” Lebna gestured for Ishant to take a seat.

“Just tell me, then.” Ishant backed onto the bed, sitting without realizing it.

“It’s Amachi. Her Saqqara crashed.”

“What?” Ishant heard the words and understood them, but he asked out of reflex. As if buying time for his mind to process the information.

“Her transponder showed her going dark while on the far side of the Mars colony. In the barrens outside of Bronzeville.”

“Is she…?”

“Presumed. So no recovery mission has been mounted, especially since no one has been able to triangulate her precise location. Scout ships have been dispatched to scour the area. I just wanted you braced for the worse.”

“Asante sana.” Ishant lowered his eyes to hide his jumble of emotions. He’d failed another member of the Adisa family, whom he’d pledged to serve.

“If you are up to it, I’d like to have you sit in on his interrogation. Keep Matata off guard and off balance.”

“Yes, of course. Just no strong-arming him.” Needing the distraction if nothing else, Ishant gathered his things. “He may have to go before the Ijo security council to face the full measure of Muungano.”

“Coerced confessions do no one any good. We want the truth. This isn’t O.E.”

They entered the chamber together, the entryway barely having a chance to re-form before Lebna took the seat across from Matata. Ishant didn’t take the other seat. He walked behind Matata, settling in along the wall, just out of his peripheral vision.

“My name is Lebna Dimka, griot magistrate for the Griot Circle of Oyigiyigi.”