The rest of the Observation Hall was surprisingly empty. Kiem was keeping half an eye out for the Auditor. Agent Rakal obviously thought they could still find a suspect to satisfy the Resolution, but Kiem was starting to get surer and surer that they didn’t have time. At least if they told the Auditor everything they knew, it would be obvious that Jainan hadn’t killed Taam. Maybe that would be enough to instate them.
The Unification celebrations would kick off in the Hall later, after the Resolution signing, but most of the official contingents hadn’t arrived yet, and for now people moved through it in dribs and drabs. There weren’t many Theans among them. Jainan had mentioned on the shuttle that the habitat modules of Carissi Station were still considered an Iskaner vanity project, despite its position in orbit around Thea, and Theans themselves only tended to use the docks in the Transit Module where travelers caught connecting shuttles on and off the planet. Kiem still had a lot to learn about the subtleties of Thean current affairs.
Jainan looked up from his wristband. “Your newslog articles came out while we were on the shuttle,” he said. “The ones about the crash.”
“Oh yeah?” Kiem said. He leaned forward to catch sight of a wisp from a distant nebula. “Any angry messages from Hren?”
“No,” Jainan said. Something seemed to be bothering him. “I didn’t realize you planned to blame your own bad flying. This paints you as incompetent.”
“Well, it’s a narrative they know. Easy to get traction.”
Jainan didn’t respond. He was frowning at the screen.
“I didn’t mention you, did I?” Kiem said, suddenly worried. He had tried to give the impression he was the only one in the flybug.
“No, you didn’t,” Jainan said. “I just—why do you talk about yourself like this?”
That threw Kiem off-balance. Jainan seemed to be expecting a concrete answer. “Er. It seemed like the best way to go.”
“Oh,” Jainan said. He examined Kiem for a moment, then lifted his gaze to a scruffy figure striding her way across the Observation Hall.
Kiem had approximately two seconds to wonder what Gairad was doing on Carissi Station before he recalled she was Thean, and this was technically her home orbit.
“Are you still alive?” Gairad said to Jainan, by way of a greeting.
“The evidence seems fairly conclusive,” Jainan said dryly. He seemed glad to see her as well, in his own quiet way. “Is Professor Audel on station?”
“It isn’t as if you got in a flybug crash and then made me worry for two days straight or anything,” Gairad said. “No, she’s supposed to get here today. Why?”
Jainan didn’t look at Kiem. “I need to see her. Are you here to work on her Kingfisher project?”
“No,” Gairad said, suddenly morose. “My scholarship says I have to attend goodwill ceremonies with the Iskaners. I should be at a protest right now,” she added, as if Jainan would understand. “I just can’t afford to lose the scholarship.”
Kiem saw the tiny shift in posture that meant Jainan’s focus had narrowed to Gairad to the exclusion of everything else. “What protest?”
Gairad’s wristband buzzed and she opened and shut a personal screen, scowling at it. “There’s a big Unification Day protest back in Bita. All my friends are getting at me for being up here with the Iskaners instead.”
“Gairad,” Jainan said, controlled enough to be a warning sign. “You can’t have connections with radicals.”
“They’re not radicals,” Gairad said, as if they’d had the conversation before. “They’re my friends from university.”
“Especially not during Unification Day,” Jainan said. “Please. Leave them to it. You have your project to focus on.”
The edge of appeal in his voice apparently gave Gairad pause. “Ugh,” she said eventually. “I suppose. At least with you and the professor here, we might get some Kingfisher work done. Did you have a chance to look at my mass analysis of their refinery?” She threw up a screen right there, between her and Jainan, which showed a cross-section of a space habitat. After a moment, Kiem recognized the refinery they’d seen a model of at Hvaren Base. “Here. There’s something weird about the mass distribution that I can’t pin down. Can we go over it this evening?”
There was a sudden shattering, grinding noise. Kiem turned and saw one of the huge bulkhead partitions was moving, folding itself back to reveal another part of the Hall. They must need the full space for the ceremonies. The new part of the Hall had already been set up with a cluster of waist-high stands covered with bubbles of force. Each bubble held a Galactic remnant. Kiem recognized a Resolution staffer adjusting one of the stands.
Jainan only spared the noise a single glance over his shoulder. “Tomorrow,” he said to Gairad. “I am at a dinner this evening.”
“Advisory Council banquet,” Kiem said helpfully. “But we don’t have anything tomorrow morning.” If he went by Bel’s meticulously color-coded schedule, it was easier to ignore that they only had four days to sort out the instation problem or none of the circus would matter. He touched Jainan’s elbow. “There’s a Resolution staffer over there. We should talk to them.”
Jainan caught his meaning at once. If the Auditor wasn’t speaking to anyone, a staffer might be the only way in. “Yes. Gairad, I will see you tomorrow.”
Gairad insisted on trailing behind him to point out some final things about the mass analysis, which Jainan listened to gravely before pulling himself away, but Kiem was already focused on the Resolution staffer. The bulkhead shuddered back against the wall, revealing another dozen remnants, each on its own stand.
It also revealed the Auditor himself, striding in from a side door, and Prince Vaile, skirts clutched in one hand as she hurried to keep up with him, saying, “Auditor, if you would only explain—”
Kiem fell in beside her and slid himself into the conversation. “Hey, Vaile. Explain what?”
The Auditor wasn’t answering anyway. Vaile gave Kiem a harassed look. “Oh. Kiem. Of course, you were on a shuttle. Have you checked your confirmation status recently?”
Kiem traded a glance with Jainan and spun up his correspondence with the Auditor’s staff. A miniature web of pictures appeared on a small screen above his wrist, with the faces of the treaty representatives displayed above their statuses.
His and Jainan’s statuses no longer said UNCONFIRMED. They had been replaced by another tag, glowing red. REVOKED.
Jainan’s voice was gray and brittle behind him, as he caught up in time to see Kiem’s wrist-screen. “That— I don’t understand. That can’t be right. Not all of them.”
In his shock, Kiem hadn’t looked at the others. Now he saw there was red spotted all across the web: the Sefalan representative had also been labeled REVOKED, as had every Iskat half of the remaining couples.
“Yes,” Vaile said grimly. “You see the problem. Auditor,” she said, raising her voice. “I understand you must work by Resolution protocols, but the Emperor needs to know your grounds so she can respond. If you would just stop for one moment and tell me—”