Shadow of the giant

Hegemon. But the longer they delayed, the greater the
likelihood of word of his trip to Damascus getting out. And then if Alai
rebuffed him, the humiliation would be public, and the office of Hegemon would
be greatly diminished.
    So Petra's judgment of him was obviously unfair. If all he
cared about was his own authority, he wouldn't be here.
    And she was clever enough to know that. She got into Battle
School, didn't she? She was the only girl among Ender's Jeesh. That certified
her as his superior—at least in the area of strategy and leadership. Surely she
must see that he was putting the goal of preventing a bloody war above his own
career.
    As soon as he thought of this, he heard her voice inside his
head, saying, "Oh, isn't that fine and noble of you, to put the lives of
hundreds of thousands of soldiers ahead of your own indelible place in history.
Do you think you get a prize for that?" Or else she'd say, "The only
reason I'm along is specifically so you can avoid risking anything." Or
else, "You've always been bold as a risk-taker—when the stakes are high
enough and your own life isn't on the line."
    This is great, Peter, he thought. You don't even need her in
the room with you and you can still carry on an argument with her.
    How did Bean stand her? No doubt she didn't treat him like
this.
    No. It was impossible to imagine that being nasty was
something she could switch on and off. Bean had to have seen this side of her.
And yet he stayed with her.
    And loved her. Peter wondered what it would be like, to have
Petra look at him the way she looked at Bean.
    Then he corrected himself at once. Wonderful to have a woman
look at him the way Petra looked at Bean. The last thing he wanted was a
lovelorn Petra making googly eyes at him.
    The telephone rang.
    The voice made sure it was "Peter Jones" and then
said, "Five in the morning, be downstairs outside the north lobby
doors." Click.
    Well, what brought that on? Something in Petra's and his
argument? Peter had swept the room for bugs, but that didn't mean they couldn't
have some low-tech device like somebody in the next room with his ear pressed
against the wall.
    What did we say to make them let me see the Caliph?
    Maybe it was what he said about avoiding another bloody war.
    Or perhaps it was because they heard him admit to Petra that
maybe he didn't have any legitimate authority.
    What if they recorded that? What if it suddenly surfaced on
the web?
    Then it would happen, and he'd do his best to recover from
the blow, and either he'd succeed or he'd fail. No point fretting about it now.
Somebody was meeting him at the north door of the lobby tomorrow morning before
daylight. Maybe they'd lead him to Alai, and maybe he'd achieve what he needed
to achieve, save all that he needed to save.
    He toyed with the idea of not telling Petra about the
meeting. After all, she had no pertinent office at all. She had no particular
right to be at the meeting, especially after their quarrel tonight.
    Don't be spiteful and petty, Peter told himself. One
spiteful act brings too much pleasure—it just makes you want to do another, and
another. And sooner each time.
    So he picked up the phone and on the seventh ring she picked
it up.
    "I'm not going to apologize," she said curtly.
    "Good," he said. "Because I don't want some
smarmy I'm-sorry-you-got-so-upset fake apology. What I want is for you to join
me at five A.M. at the north door of the lobby."
    "What for?"
    "I don't know," said Peter. "I'm just passing
along what I was just told on the telephone."
    "He's going to let us see him?"
    "Or he's sending thugs to escort us back to the
airport. How can I possibly know? You're the one who's his friend. You tell me
what he's planning."
    "I haven't the slightest idea," said Petra.
"It's not like Alai and I were ever close. And are you sure they want me
to come to the actual meeting? There are plenty of Muslims who would be
horrified at the thought of an unveiled married woman speaking face to face
with a man—even the Caliph."
    "I don't know what they want," said Peter. "I
want you at the meeting."
     
     
    They were ushered into a closed van and driven along a route
that Peter assumed was convoluted and deceptively long. For all he knew, the
Caliph's headquarters was next door to their hotel. But Alai's people knew that
without the Caliph there was no unity, and without unity Islam had no strength,
so they were taking no chances on letting outsiders know where the