“How long will it take us to fly back?” Jainan said abruptly.
“We’ll be back by midafternoon,” Kiem said. “If we take the fastest route, that is.”
Jainan’s profile was very sharp in the pale, snow-reflected light. He stared straight ahead, expressionless. “Do we have to take the fastest route?”
So this was what Jainan looked like when he was angry. Kiem, caught off guard, made a thoughtful noise. Taking their time would at least tell Internal Security that Kiem and Jainan weren’t their subordinates to order around. They could stay within the letter of the law and still make a point. “The freight routes are pretty dull, really. Didn’t you want to see more of the mountains? It takes longer, but I’m sure Rakal has time in their schedule.”
“I could see some mountains,” Jainan said.
Kiem adjusted the steering mesh settings to give them more sensitivity, his bad mood fading, and veered their direction setting to the east. A spine of mountains marched between them and Arlusk, pure and clean and a long way away from bloody Internal Security and their bloody interviews. “Course changed!” he said. “Let them wait.”
The atmosphere in the flybug shifted. Jainan’s shoulders relaxed. Kiem leaned forward, gleeful over their small rebellion, and scanned the foothills ahead. It would do Internal Security good to remember they couldn’t just snap their fingers and summon them.
The flight turned into a long, aimless meander deep into the mountains, dipping into valleys and investigating anywhere that looked interesting. Jainan had never done proper mountain flying, so Kiem handed over the helm and showed him how to use the updrafts and wind patterns that snaked around the crags. They found a frozen waterfall; Kiem was at the controls, and he brought them close enough that they could have opened the dome and touched it.
“Gonna take us down a bit,” Kiem said. “This thing wasn’t built for hovering.”
They drifted past the crag at the slowest possible speed. Jainan leaned back and said, “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
“’Course,” Kiem said, distracted and fiddling with the map on the dash, which he should probably stop ignoring.
“Professor Audel’s project,” Jainan said. “How would you feel if I withdrew?”
Kiem stopped looking at the map and also stopped looking where he was going. “Withdrew from the project?” he said. The steering mesh vibrated a warning, and he had to yank the flybug up to avoid hitting a protruding rock. “But … aren’t you kind of vital by now?” He pulled them up to drift at a slightly safer height. “If it’s this thing with Professor Audel, she basically gave us proof she wasn’t involved. Can’t you just do the engineering side and stay away from the political and military bits?”
He had said the wrong thing. Jainan’s shoulders hunched. “I have made this whole situation worse by working on it,” Jainan said. His speech patterns had turned formal again, which was a bad sign. “It was a mistake for me to agree to it in the first place. Internal Security will see it as suspicious. I should not have taken part in something so political.”
“I thought you enjoyed it,” Kiem said. “Before the whole embezzlement thing, I mean.” He cast his mind back to the times he’d seen Jainan working on his diagrams—Jainan had been relaxed, engaged, willing to explain parts of it with very little prompting. He knew he wasn’t good at reading Jainan, but surely he couldn’t have gotten things that wrong.
“I have some alternatives,” Jainan said, “if you would be willing to consider them.”
Kiem didn’t see what he had to do with it. “Go ahead.”
“I know you need to keep your influence in the Imperial College,” Jainan said. “There are other ways I could be useful to you. The engineering department is also conducting vacuum tests I could consult on, which would gain you capital with higher-ranking academics. I could find out if the mathematics department has any relevant projects. I know this isn’t what you hoped for from it, but—please.”
Kiem had taken the flybug off its most sensitive setting some time ago, so when the shock made both his hands clench in the steering they didn’t veer off course. If he hadn’t switched it back they probably would have crashed.
He realized the next instant and relaxed his grip again, but it was a struggle. He felt as though someone had just taken a scene he was looking at and forcibly pulled it around to a new angle. “What I hoped for?” he said. “This is your project!” He hadn’t made Jainan take it on, had he? He tried frantically to remember the reception where Jainan had agreed to do it. Had he said something?
“Yes,” Jainan said uncertainly. “But these are your goals.”
Again, Kiem felt that lurch, as if everything were shifting around him. He took both of his hands out of the mesh and set the controls to autofly, clumsier than he should have been. “They aren’t,” he said, trying to make his voice level. “I mean, I’ve got interests in the College, yes, but that doesn’t affect you. I didn’t want you to help out Professor Audel for my sake, and you don’t bloody need to—to make up for it or whatever you’re offering!”
Jainan drew back from him. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he said, in a thin, blank voice that made Kiem realize he’d been raising his. “I’m sorry.”
“I—what? I don’t want anything,” Kiem said, keeping his voice down with some effort. “That’s the point.”
The flybug beeped a warning, coming up to a sharp rise that the autofly couldn’t deal with. Kiem lunged for the controls again.
“You’re angry.”
“I’m not,” Kiem said, concentrating on the steering. It was true—at least it was true he wasn’t angry at Jainan. He wasn’t entirely sure who he was angry with.
Jainan said nothing, but the quality of his silence was as good as a formally countersigned memo of disbelief.
“I’m not,” Kiem said again. “I’m—upset.” That felt accurate. “I’m upset that you’d think I’d—I’d use you like that.”
“It isn’t unreasonable,” Jainan said sharply. “I represent the junior partner in the treaty. I have caused you nothing but trouble so far. It is reasonable to expect my help.”
“No, it’s not reasonable!” Kiem said. “That’s messed up! We’re married—even if it’s a political marriage, that doesn’t mean one of us is in charge!”
“I—of course not,” Jainan said. “No.”
Kiem raked a hand through his hair. “Expect you to do my work for me?” he said. “Where the hell did that come from? Taam?”
“No,” Jainan said, his voice suddenly harsh.
Kiem raised a hand in apology. “No, I didn’t mean that,” he said. “Sorry. Tactless.” He tried not to let himself be hurt that it wasn’t okay to imply it of Taam, but apparently it was okay to imply it of Kiem himself. Jainan had been close to Taam; Kiem was the one he had been forced into a rushed remarriage with. It was different. It was understandable.