Ressid opened the door herself. There were nearly a dozen people around a

table in the room behind her; half diplomats who had come up in the same shuttle as her, half embassy staff. Ambassador Suleri was at the head of the table.

When Jainan walked in, Suleri rose. It was a gesture of formality he didn’t have to make; he and Jainan were roughly equal in rank. Jainan had no time for his nerves to return before the Ambassador inclined his head, one diplomat to another.

“Thank you for coming, both of you,” the Ambassador said gravely. “Please have a seat. Lady Ressid is standing in for the principal for Foreign Affairs until her shuttle arrives.

Ressid waited until Jainan and Gairad had both sat. “Citizens,” she said. “The treaty signing is in three hours. Any papers to be drawn up must be drawn up now. The Auditor has let us know he sees the possibility of reconciliation. I have promised the Thean press another story on our treaty with Iskat, and Jainan”—a nod to him—“has bought us an opening. My principal wants your agreement on our course of action.”

The Ambassador glanced at Jainan. “Iskat has broken our trust in many ways,” he said. “However, I encourage the meeting to consider the consequences of a large-scale conflict.”

“The Emperor is willing to give us a small reduction in trade tariffs,” the Deputy Ambassador said, indicating a document spread out on the table. Jainan realized this was also aimed at him. They had already been through this among themselves. They were nervous about obtaining his support.

“Taam wanted a war,” Jainan said. “I have no desire to continue his work.

What are the other options?”

Ressid let out a small, satisfied hah, as if Jainan had proved her right. She swept aside the documents glowing on the table, spinning them into oblivion.

“Citizens, I propose the Emperor has not offered us a small tariff reduction,” she said. Her smile was that of a shark. “I posit that what she has offered us is, in fact, a blank sheet for our demands.”

She glanced at Jainan, as if she felt his gaze on her. When he met her eyes, Jainan felt the solidity of his clan underneath him, of all the clans, as if his feet weren’t on the metal shell of a station but on the packed earth of Thea below.

“Yes,” Jainan said. “And, if you’ll allow me to suggest something, I think I know the person to deliver them.”

The Emperor sat in an upholstered chair the color of alabaster, almost exactly matching the heavy white of her full-formal tunic and skirts. Behind her head, filling the wall of the anteroom, was the gold-brushed curve of the Hill Enduring.