The Koolanai Clan who raised her were, on the whole, quite fond of her. They, reasonably, felt that her high achievement reflected well on them and brought their own clan honor. Or, they had. If Clan O’Neal’s reputation was restored, they stood to gain as much as anyone. They were also one fourth of her work force.

Clan Roolnai was her real problem. They had staked a lot of personal reputation on the collaboration with humans, albeit covertly through the Bane Sidhe, and were furious at the embarrassment caused by the now near-universal public opinion verdict of humanity’s irredeemable mass insanity.

Since 2047 she’d held her Roolnai workers through force of personality, sheer will, and a very liberal hand with favors to the breeding groups contracted for her project. That same liberality with favors had prevented her from replacing Roolnai families with Koolanai families as several projects had completed and been replaced with new work.

The bottom line was that without some kind of give from the Indowy Roolnai, she was toast. Maybe not dead, but in so unenviable a debt position that her carefully nurtured ability to pick and choose her projects would be gone for life. She’d have to take whatever projects would give her the best short-term profit, like crumbs from the Darhel tables.

However, if Grandfather agreed it was useful to the Clan, trickling in the credits she’d won for the O’Neals by “fencing” the level nine code keys would gradually pull her back up, but slowly, so slowly as to stretch even a mentat’s long-term view.

First, try the obvious, she thought, resisting the temptation to smack herself on the forehead. She walked the length of the bay, using the transit belts to cover the vast distance, until she stood beside Iltai Halaani. “I will take over this task. Please convey my regards to the Indowy Roolnai and pass on to him my humble request that he agree to see me on a matter of importance to his clan.”