Pennsylvania Construction Headquarters, T-24
May 16, 2440, 12:36 PM
R’alen was reviewing the afternoon personnel assignments when a message from W’ren Th’ron appeared.
It was addressed to the highborn households throughout Sol.
The sender was identified not by his fleet command, but by his position as Keeper of the Flame.
R’alen opened it.
Read the first paragraph.
Then stopped.
“Father?”
D’vann looked up.
“Yes?”
“W’ren has sent a message to the highborn.”
“About?”
“His Lordship and L’tani T’all.”
D’vann set aside his construction schedule.
“Let me see.”
R’alen transferred the message.
It was not an announcement of disciplinary action against L’tani.
Nor did it attempt to resolve the private circumstances of her encounter with Matthew.
Instead, W’ren addressed those who had begun discussing whether her conduct reflected badly upon House T’all, whether the High Lord had been compromised, and whether other highborn families had standing to pass judgment.
His language was unusually direct.
I am aware that reports concerning His Lordship and L’tani T’all have circulated among our households.
Some of you have apparently decided that these events require your interpretation, condemnation, or intervention.
They do not.
If the standing of our Houses and the obligations of rank are of such importance to you, I remind you that, as Keeper of the Flame, I am the social senior of the highborn in Sol.
You will therefore respect my judgment in this matter.
His Lordship’s private affairs are not yours to adjudicate. Neither is the personal conduct of a member of House T’all who has not been placed under your authority.
You may hold whatever personal opinions you please. You will not use your family standing as grounds to interfere.
Attend to your own households and responsibilities.
D’vann finished reading.
“Well.”
R’alen looked toward him.
“Rather forceful.”
“Quite.”
“He’s invoking his position as Keeper of the Flame.”
“Yes.”
“That’s unusual.”
“Not particularly, when people appear to have forgotten who holds the position.”
S’rethi arrived with her tea.
“What has happened?”
D’vann showed her the message.
She read it, then smiled.
“Good.”
“That’s all?” R’alen asked.
“What else would you like me to say?”
“It’s rather extraordinary.”
“Only because some of our people apparently require reminding that their social standing doesn’t entitle them to involve themselves in another household’s affairs.”
D’vann nodded.
“W’ren has made the point rather effectively.”
R’alen examined the message again.
“He hasn’t defended L’tani’s conduct.”
“No,” S’rethi answered.
“And he hasn’t condemned it.”
“No.”
“He’s telling everyone they have no standing to decide the matter.”
“Precisely.”
D’vann smiled.
“And he’s doing it in terms that even the most status-conscious among us should understand.”
T’ira looked up from her geological display.
“Has he told them to stop talking?”
“Not among themselves,” R’alen answered. “He’s told them not to interfere or presume authority.”
“Then I suspect there will be a great deal of private conversation.”
“Probably,” D’vann said.
S’rethi returned to her workstation.
“Let them talk. We have considerably more useful things to do.”
1:08 PM
The second message came through the V’ren Trust.
This one was addressed to all Trust personnel and associated V’ren working on Earth.
It was less concerned with the precedence of highborn families than with the practical consequences of public commentary.
R’alen read it aloud to his parents.
“Recent events involving His Lordship and a member of our community have attracted substantial human attention.”
D’vann nodded.
“That was inevitable.”
R’alen continued.
“I will not dictate what any of you may say to one another in private, nor will I presume to regulate your personal feelings about these events.”
S’rethi smiled faintly.
“A sensible beginning.”
“However, the V’ren Trust is presently engaged in an exceptionally delicate undertaking. We are establishing homes, livelihoods, legal standing, and public relationships for our people on a world whose inhabitants are still learning who we are.”
R’alen paused.
“For that reason, I strongly caution every member of our community against discussing these private matters with the human press, offering public condemnation, or communicating negative judgments to human acquaintances, including those you consider close friends.”
T’vessa looked up.
“Even close friends?”
“That’s what he says.”
R’alen continued.
“You may trust a friend to keep a confidence. You cannot reasonably expect that friend to understand every implication of our family customs, bonding traditions, or social obligations. Nor can you control how the information will be interpreted when repeated.”
D’vann nodded.
“An important distinction.”
“We have already seen how quickly incomplete information becomes public speculation. Our present circumstances do not permit us the luxury of casually creating difficulties for the Trust, the High Lord, or the families whose futures depend upon this settlement effort.”
The concluding paragraph was brief.
“Those with official responsibilities should refer inquiries through the appropriate Trust communications personnel. Everyone else is strongly advised to decline comment.”
R’alen lowered the display.
“That should be clear enough.”
S’rethi considered it.
“He hasn’t forbidden private discussion.”
“No.”
“He hasn’t demanded that anyone approve of what happened.”
“No.”
“He has warned them about speaking outside the community.”
“Especially to humans,” D’vann answered.
T’vessa looked up from her workstation.
“I have several human friends.”
“Yes,” S’rethi said.
“Am I supposed to stop talking to them?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what does he expect?”
“That you recognize a confidence can cease to be private as soon as someone repeats it.”
“Even when you trust them?”
“Especially when you trust them enough to forget they may discuss it with someone else.”
T’vessa considered that.
“People are going to ask questions.”
“Yes.”
“And they’ll already have their own opinions.”
“Of course.”
“Then saying nothing might make them more curious.”
D’vann smiled.
“They’re entitled to be curious.”
R’alen looked toward his sister.
“W’ren isn’t trying to prevent curiosity. He’s trying to keep our people from making the situation worse.”
T’vessa nodded.
“That makes more sense.”
T’ira returned to the geological model.
“Then perhaps we should be grateful that none of the reporters is asking about the eastern ridge.”
D’vann laughed.
“Considering the state of that ridge, I should be delighted to discuss it with anyone.”
S’rethi gave him a look.
“You may discuss it after I’ve finished surveying it.”
“Of course, my dear.”
2:04 PM
The call came from another member of House K’var, still aboard the V’ren fleet in space.
D’vann recognized the caller and accepted.
They exchanged greetings, and D’vann asked briefly about the household’s circumstances.
Then the conversation turned.
“Have you seen the Keeper’s message?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what actually happened?”
D’vann looked at the display.
“I know what W’ren has asked of us.”
“I wasn’t asking about his instruction.”
“I realize that.”
There was a pause.
“There are some troubling reports.”
“Then I suggest you direct any legitimate concerns to W’ren.”
“Surely you have an opinion.”
“Certainly.”
“And?”
“And I’ve decided to keep it to myself.”
His relative hesitated.
“You’ve spent considerable time with His Lordship.”
“We have.”
“And your family is working closely with the Trust.”
“Also true.”
“Then I thought you might know more.”
“Possibly. But I don’t see how any of that makes his private life our responsibility.”
“D’vann, we’re family.”
“Yes. Which is why I’m giving you good advice rather than encouraging you to get involved in a quarrel that belongs to someone else.”
The caller was quiet for a moment.
“You agree with W’ren, then?”
“As Keeper of the Flame, he has the authority to address the highborn. He’s exercised it.”
“And personally?”
“Personally, I’ve spent the last two days preparing to construct three towns on a landscape my wife has been dismantling with kinetic weapons. I have rather more immediate concerns.”
His relative laughed reluctantly.
“I suppose you do.”
“And if you want something worth discussing, I can show you what Pennsylvania looks like now.”
“I’ve seen the news.”
“Then you haven’t seen the interesting parts.”
They spoke briefly about the construction before ending the call.
S’rethi looked toward her husband.
“House K’var?”
“Yes.”
“Someone we know?”
“Someone who knows better than to expect me to settle an argument about House T’all.”
She smiled.
“Did that stop them asking?”
“No.”
“Of course not.”
D’vann returned to his construction schedule.
“Now, how much of the western section may I have?”
S’rethi examined the survey.
“Less than you want.”
He sighed.
“An entirely different sort of disappointment.”
4:02 PM
By late afternoon, the Trust message had reached the V’ren workforce throughout the Pennsylvania operation.
People had not stopped being curious.
They had stopped expecting their supervisors to satisfy that curiosity.
R’alen was closing the latest personnel assignments when D’vann looked toward him.
“Do you think W’ren’s messages will accomplish anything?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Probably not.”
“Then what was the point?”
D’vann considered the question.
“He has established his position among the highborn. Nobody can reasonably claim to misunderstand it.”
“And the Trust message?”
“He’s explained why our people should exercise discretion while we establish ourselves here.”
R’alen nodded.
“Some of them won’t agree.”
“They’re entitled to disagree.”
“And some will continue talking.”
“Undoubtedly.”
D’vann glanced toward the construction displays.
“But if somebody decides to involve the human press in a private dispute, they’ll be doing so knowing the Keeper has expressly cautioned against it.”
S’rethi joined them.
“Which makes their conduct considerably easier to judge.”
R’alen smiled faintly.
“That does sound familiar.”
“Why?”
“Because the human article I was reading this morning made much the same point about authority and responsibility.”
D’vann looked amused.
“Then perhaps you’re learning something.”
“I should hope so.”
“Excellent. Now learn whether the next survey section has been released.”
R’alen laughed and returned to his workstation.
The highborn families were accustomed to having opinions about one another.
They were less accustomed to being told by the senior figure among them that they had no business turning those opinions into a public controversy.
W’ren had not asked them to approve of anything.
He had told them where their authority ended.
