Thirteen billion is--rather a lot of people, actually. Cheliax, which he was used to thinking of as large and powerful, was only a bit more than a thousandth of that size.

He also raises his estimate of the importance of the people in the car with him now. This morning they might have been regional bureaucrats, but now they are read into a secret of world-historical importance. He fixes their faces into his mind a bit more firmly.

A secret shared cannot be unsaid; but also his power is in his voice, and to hide means to delay its use.

"These prairie dogs," he says. "Are they secretive animals?"

"Well, they live underground," says Tahu. "Otherwise not... especially?"

"Then neither shall we be. There is perhaps wisdom in moving slowly, rather than painting it across the sky." He doesn't know how they're communicating, if they don't have Mage's Decree, but they did seem to view the decision as binary.

"So, no press release today, but we should start planning for one, do I understand you correctly?" says Ekachta.

"Yes. Do you have superiors who would rather read this news in a private report than a broadsheet?"

"- my superiors are alerted to the situation, they had to come to a consensus on who to send out of who was available on short notice and that was me."

Hmm. He is not immediately certain how to be delicate, here; it is not clear whether they are an envoy, or an investigator, or a decision-maker, and 'event of world historical importance' does not by itself mean 'you would have a fruitful meeting with our head of state'. He will, for now, trust that Tapa is being deliberate. He is not yet sure what to make of them letting him make the decision on whether or not to be revealed, especially in the middle of a war.

"Well, I'm glad it was you; you've made us feel rather welcomed. If you could set our schedule for the next few days, how would you do it?"

"I'd recommend you get settled into the house - we're going to assign you a purple with a security clearance to handle chores and such, so they'll need to know things like what you like to eat and what you'd want in a change of clothes - and get looked over by some biologists and doctors to confirm that you're likely to be safe eating Amentan food, and then I'd recommend a mix of you doing background reading and you answering some greens' questions about anything and everything. Then when you've got your bearings a bit it'd be time to revisit the question of whether to publicize."

A purple?

He nods. "Very well. And how many greys for the security of the house?" Shapto had looked quite a distance from the border, and so he doubted they had the wartime heightened security, but he had always tried to maintain good relationships with his personal security, and it seems all the more important when they are all fresh to the role.

"They'll be on shifts but there'll be at least thirty total on the team and increased police presence for a ways around - not read in, to start with, the house in question is also used for other sensitive guests and it's normal for them to have to be on alert when there's someone there or when they're drilling for the possibility, they don't know which of those things is happening."

"I see. Well, when some are read in, I would like to speak with them."

They pull up to the house. It's surrounded by generous tree and hedge cover; it's not a lot of land by manorial estate standards but it's a lot more than most of the houses they passed on the way. There's a garage and they pull inside before opening the car doors.

She is looking at everything with a careful eye. How is the house, as a house? What do the decorations say to her?

The house is three stories tall and in excellent repair. The garage is not decorated basically at all, it's bare concrete, though that in itself may be interesting. In the house itself it looks - impersonally lovely, someone had a decorating budget and they spent it on nice prints and wall sculptures and fluffy rugs and abstractly swirly wallpaper. "Do you want to pick out one bedroom or two?" Ekachta asks, walking them through the dining room (the kitchen is not completely open-plan, but it is visible over a counter on one side through a gap suitable for passing dishes) and towards the staircase.

They share a glance. This is really the question of whether or not they can trust this house and use it like they would their own house, or whether they are treating it as hostile territory. He is open and confident.

She is more guarded, but leaning more towards trust than fear.

"Two, I think."

"The house has twelve, so take your pick." The rooms they are shown up on the second floor - and the third, too, if they want to see more of them - have ensuite bathrooms and kingsize beds and windows and more prints and rugs and wallpapers in various color palettes.

She moves slowly through the rooms, taking in the details, touching the fabric. This house is not the handmade work of artisans, she thinks. No one stood in one of these rooms and decided what rug would fit it, and then had the rug made. This one is slightly too small, this other slightly too large. The decorations are simple art, not artifacts; this house is no one's treasury, there is no history they are trying to advertise. The windows are well-placed, and the rooms spacious--some perhaps a bit more than she would like.

There's a room whose palette is a dark color contrasted with a bright one, in a way that reminds her of Fraga's black and gold; she puts Felip in it, and takes the room next door.

That takes care of the nights; now the evenings. There was a dining room--will there be space for guests to sit together? To stand and speak? To dance? How do the rooms flow together, and into the garden or grounds?

The dining room can seat twenty, and the adjoining rooms could have the furniture cleared away for a dance for a similar number if that were desirable, though they are currently occupied with chairs and couches. Those rooms lead out to a sunroom and veranda and from there into the backyard, which has some yard furniture, little clusters of it suitable for groups of three or four to sit together and chat and a big flat deck for outdoor dancing or grilling. There's a hot tub out there, too.

Hm. No one will know the dances. She could teach them, of course--a pang while she thinks of her daughters learning to dance--but it will be a foreign novelty to them, not a deep tradition. And they'd have to recreate the music, somehow. She could find space to put musicians, but their instruments might differ too much. A problem to solve in the future.

Let us consider the day, then. They will have meetings with many people, no doubt, their books and notes and maps to consult. She doubts they will have to hold court, even though it was suggested they would be famous beyond compare. Probably best to only be seen in public at a spot they travel to, and keep the estate private and limited to smaller meetings. Is there already a library? Are there offices for the two of them? Meeting rooms, at appropriate levels of symmetry? (It doesn't seem like the sort of house to have raised thrones, but she could perhaps make do with a room with a large, solid desk and intimidating chair for them and an insubstantial chair for their guest.)

There are a few books on shelves in a corner of a living room! A dictionary, an atlas, a couple photography books, it doesn't look like the home of a book-lover. There are three offices on the second floor, two on the third, and one right next to the sunroom, though at present they all have matching sets of chairs behind and before the desks.

Well, she'll be able to figure something out.

She glances around. Who has followed her, this long into her tour?

Ekachta is there, and Muim; the greens have taken up spots at the dining table to murmur to each other and Patkeon is talking to the greys who came with them in the car.