Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing by George R. Shirer Page B

ambassador?”
    “Yes,” said Lewij.   “I’ve helped coordinate cultural exchange programs with his embassy for years.”   She sighed and poured them more tiel .   “Old Zaquo’s very comfortable with his position here,” she said.   “He knows how to work with our government, our culture.   If he was replaced at this point, I think it might set back relations quite a bit.”
    “Really?”
    Lewij nodded, swallowed another mouthful of tiel .   She eyed her glass, frowning.   “You know, I think you’re right.   This stuff may be too mild.”
    John emptied his glass and leaned back, into the plush couch.   “May I ask you a hypothetical question, Lewij?”
    She gave him an amused look.   “What sort of hypothetical question?”
    “Hypothetically,” said John, choosing his words carefully, “what if I was mistaken? What if Katis wasn’t one of the assailants, but an innocent Zerraxi who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
    Lewij frowned.   “John . . . .”
    “What effect would that have on Ambassador Zaquo’s position?”
    “It would change everything,” she said, after a moment’s hesitation.   “But, John. . . .”
    “You know people in the government, don’t you, Lewij?   People in the Diplomatic Authority?”
    “Yes,” she said, hesitantly.  
    “I think,” said John, head resting on the back of the couch, studying the soft pink ceiling overhead, “that I need to have a . . . hypothetical discussion with one of them.”
    “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this, John.”
    “I understand, but you said it yourself, Lewij.   If Zaquo loses his position, it could set back relations.   And, there’s also the fact that I’m not comfortable with the idea of Katis being prosecuted for poor judgment.”
    “You don’t know that it was poor judgment.   He was there of his own free will, John.   Katis may have planned to participate in the crime, willingly and enthusiastically.”
    “Maybe.   Maybe not.   But you and I both know that Zerraxi psychology is more pack oriented. A dominant, aggressive male could easily coerce or convince a submissive male into doing something against their better judgment.”
    Lewij sighed.   “I certainly can’t deny that.   Their society is much more hierarchical than our own.”
    “You’ve met Katis, haven’t you?”
    “Yes, at some of the cultural functions I helped arrange.”
    “Did he seem like a dominant male to you?”
    “No,” admitted Lewij.   “He did not.”
    “Well, then,” said John, “I think you and I have some comms to make.”
    Still somewhat reluctant, Lewij nodded.
    * * * * *
      Isep Jivis was a youngish man, thin, with dark, coarse skin and short, pale blue hair. He lived and worked in Etin Dov, the capital of Juni.   According to Lewij, Jivis worked for the Diplomatic Authority as a kind of fixer.   It was seven hours earlier in Etin Dov, so when John and Lewij commed Jivis he had only been in his office an hour.
    After Lewij made introductions, Jivis listened to John Epcott’s hypothetical solution to the Zerraxi ambassador’s diplomatic mess.   Jivis, of course, was aware of the stories pouring out of Ted Dov about the recent attacks.   He had been wondering if and when his section would have to intervene.   The whole situation was in danger of getting out of control, if something wasn’t done soon.  Now, here was this alien with a rather elegant solution to at least part of the problem.
    “So, Jivis,” said Lewij, when Epcott had finished his spiel, “what’s your assessment?”
    Jivis had to grin.   Even after all these years, Lewij still tended to sound like an instructor when she spoke to him.   “I think that Mr. Epcott’s idea has merit, at least from a diplomatic viewpoint.   The biggest variable would be the ambassador himself.”
    “What do you mean, Mr. Jivis?” asked Epcott.
    Jivis leaned back in his chair.   “Ambassador Zaquo may not approve of being