Intruder

He was so soon to be nine, probably before his sib was born; he absolutely refused to share his birthday.

The plane touched down and rolled to a stop in the dark, the blue field lights obscuring any view of Shejidan. They were almost home. For luggage, there were only the carry-bags for classified Guild equipment, a little extra luggage of Bren’s, and the two fair-sized crates Machigi had sent. Airport security staff and workers under their supervision moved up carts to manage the crates and get them into the waiting van. Jago carried Bren’s bag as well as her own, and they all descended from the plane and boarded the van with the efficiency and speed of a routine arrangement.

It was a fast trip across the field, over to the open-air airport train station, then into a small enclosed platform where a Special waited—only one passenger car was attached, this trip, and plus the baggage car, and Guild security held both ready for their boarding.

The crates had to be loaded to baggage; Algini stayed to supervise that, while the rest of them climbed aboard the passenger car—Tabini-aiji’s own car, with dark red velvet curtains making the inside much nicer than the all but windowless outside. It was the same bench seat at the rear that Bren always took, and it was like any return from Mospheira. Any visit to Malguri. Any visit to Taiben—going back for years and years of service to Tabini-aiji.

At the start of it, he’d flown where they could find room for him and hung about reading and doing work in a cubbyhole, waiting for some train from the Bujavid hill to pick up groceries and afford the paidhi-aiji a seat somewhere.

Bren let go a slow sigh, as, without even asking, Jago handed him a fruit drink from the well-stocked little fridge this luxury car afforded. It was innocent of alcohol—a good call. God, he was tired. Physically tired, but not so much as mentally tired.

And he was finally past the point of needing his wits about him. That was a relief. His wits had had all the exercise they could stand.

He felt he was already home as the train began to move. He knew every turn in the track from here on, and he saw relaxation slowly set into his bodyguard as well, everything became as predictable and as safe as it ever could be.

Not to depend on, however. The news was probably leaking out about the Marid contact. Thatwould racket through the rumor mill. It would touch off crazy people. And animate sane ones who had opposing interests.

The bullet-shield curtains were drawn on the one window that actually was a window; they almost always were drawn. If they hadn’t been, at about this turn, one could have seen the Bujavid on its hilltop, rising up and taking with it some of the mazy tiled roofs of the city. At the bottom, one would see one little spark of outrageous neon at the limit of the classic Old City neighborhoods—and he’d just as soon not see it. He’d been wanting to get that neon display in the hotel district outlawed for years, but he’d never quite found it worth the fight with the very party that generally supported him—the innovators, those who favored human tech and humans, and happened to think neon light was a great tourist attraction.

Another familiar turn about the hill and the train diverted onto the track that only a few trains, and mostly this engine, ever took, the line which led into the tunnel of the Bujavid hill itself.

Still more turns—he was down to the bottom of the fruit juice now. One could tell by the sound and by the reduction in speed, exactly where they were, every detail of the system as they slowly climbed toward the Bujavid train station.

Algini and Banichi silently got up and went back to the hand baggage. Tano, one arm still somewhat impaired, made a move in that direction, pure habit; but Jago got up, put a hand on Tano’s good shoulder, and went back in his stead to help Algini and Banichi. Tano settled again, looking annoyed.

“How is it, Tano-ji,” Bren asked him, “after the flight? Was the pressure change a problem?”

The frown persisted. “Nothing of consequence, Bren-ji.”

“Hurts, then.”

“Not much,” Tano said, moving the shoulder. “It needs exercise.”

“Prescribed exercise,” Bren said staunchly. “And sleeping in your own bed tonight, Tano-ji.”

“Indeed,” Tano said more cheerfully. “And you in yours, Bren-ji. Well-deserved, in your instance.”

The train slowed and slowed further, coming to a halt at a platform Bren could see in his mind. They stopped. The door of the car opened.

Bren took his case in hand and got up. Tano did. They walked back to the door as Banichi opened it, and, behind Algini and Jago and Banichi handling the baggage, Bren stepped down to the platform—a fair hop for a tired human. Just as automatically, Tano reached out his good hand and steadied him in his landing beside the baggage.

“To the lift,” Banichi said, indicating he should not wait about. It was an area crowded with idle carts, offering only freight lifts, not the ordinary passenger siding. Freight had come in recently on another train; crates of seasonal vegetables, probably eggs, and sacks of flour sat on the other side of the platform, at the other freight dock. Their own engine would be in motion again once it had given up its last baggage, moving to stand ready, though reversed on the track, for Tabini’s own occasional use. There was no other inbound traffic at the moment, just a stack of personal crates on the passenger platform indicating that someone else had arrived in the residencies, bringing furniture with them, by the size of the crates—not an uncommon event with the legislature about to go into session.

They left Algini and Tano to arrange things with the crates. Banichi and Jago took their own hand baggage, a light load for them, and they headed toward the quieter area of the platforms, where the lift shafts made a vast pillar, the spine of the hill, going up and up from here. There were the lifts, a bank of them, along with the pipes and conduits, the veins and arteries that carried everything that came from or went into the Bujavid.

There were not many passenger lifts, and none these days went above the main floor or the offices. Banichi and Jago held the door of the one waiting—no lift was going to budge with Banichi in the doorway—and Bren walked in.

Banichi got in. The doors shut. The car went up and up, a considerable rise to the floor of offices above the legislative halls. There, observed and recognized by the guards on duty, they took themselves and their baggage across to another lift and rode up to the third residential level.

The doors opened quietly and let them out into an elegant hallway of antique carpet runners, porcelains on pedestals, crystal chandeliers, and a sparse choice of individual doors on either handcamong which, to the right, was, finally, his own apartment, a direction he hadn’t taken all year, not since he’d come back from space.

Home. No more Farai clan holding the place hostage. And no more making do as a resident with someone else’s staff—well, there would be a little making-do, for a few days yet, since they hadn’t a master cook, hadn’t all the furniture back, and hadn’t full staffing yet. But that was coming.

And Najida staff was waiting for him, some of whom, including his valets, Supani and Koharu, had a permanent appointment. For the rest, which he very much looked forward to, the very next shuttle flight would bring staff from the apartment on the station—people sorely missed, some who’d flown to deep space with him; and who hadn’t found it possible to get a flight down to meet their own kin on theirreturn, nor for the whole year since.

Oh, one could sogratefully do with a little dull tranquility and normalcycat least as much as one could find in an apartment right next door to Tabini’s, and not that far from Lord Tatiseigi and the aiji-dowager, not to mention just upstairs from the legislature, the aiji’s audience hall, the committee offices—

And not to mention, upstairs from his own clerical office, which had reconstituted itself in the last year and was again swamped with correspondence.

Plus he’d have the news services to deal with by tomorrow—but the news people couldn’t get access to the Bujavid train station or the upstairs of the Bujavid.

Maybe he could manage a few days’ respite. Sleep. Sleep would be good. Sleep under his own roof, so to speak, and with no pressing emergency.

They carried their baggage to their own front door, and they had not even to knock. The ornate doors swung inward from the center, both leaves, and let him and his travel-weary bodyguard all in at once.

Staff waited in the foyer, people from whom they had parted only a few days ago—but all in new jobs and a new place, with smiling faces and happy enthusiasm.

“Nandi.” Supani, his major d’ pro tem, immediately helped him off with the traveling coat. Koharu took that garment from Supani and handed it on to Husaro, who whisked it out of sight for cleaning, to be ready if needed in the morning. And immediately there was a simpler, lighter coat for indoors.

Thus clad, he went doggedly through the company, naming names down to the very young chambermaid, meeting each, thanking them for coming. To the lot, then and especially to the girl, who was only fourteen, he said, “Do advantage yourself of the post whenever you wish, nadi. Send as many cards as you need. One understands several of you are for the first time in the city. So you all must take hours off and go take tours. Go as several together.”

“Nandi,” was the general murmur, bows, diffidence, delight. “Nandi, thank you.”

His bodyguard were due a rest of their own; Tano and Algini had yet to arrive with the baggage, but they would be here soon.

He was obliged to take a tour of his own apartment, which the staff had labored to render habitable, freighting furniture in across country from the Najida basement, finding linens, stocking the kitchens, installing his wardrobe and his personal items, his libraryc

These brave people had saved so much that was his from the predations of the Farai, and it would take hours to go through the library alone and find out which of his books had arrived. He had to inspect every room, admire it, assure one and the other anxious staffer that it was perfect. He was tired, but they had shepherded his belongings back, in some cases having risked their lives stealing it away before the Farai had moved in two years back.

So, yes, he did admire it and all their ingenuity. First of all was what was new: a guest room the apartment had never had. It had appeared in the reorganization of Tabini’s apartment and the redefinition of the sitting room wall and foyer—due, they all understood, to the elimination of a servant passage which had been declared a security hazard to Tabini’s apartment. Tabini had gotten a storeroom out of the transaction, but the paidhi now had guest quarters—small but elegant, with furnishings his staff had picked out, tasteful and classic and very fine.

In the Bujavid, where space was at a premium, it was a miracle, an incredibly generous gift, especially considering the donor, and his staff was absolutely delighted and proud. They hoped the furnishings they had chosen did it justice.

He pronounced it very fine, very fit, and they were happy with that. He went on, finding some things back in their proper places. There might be a new couch in the sitting room, but they had gotten the tapestries away and a room-sized carpet, of all things—the ingenuity and courage involved was memorable. They had saved his modest china, but they had ordered in a new dining set. They had insisted on replacing the pots and pans and all the food, saying that they would trust no utensil or store that the Farai had used and left.

His office desk had a broken lock, but that had been repaired. His shelves were again full of his books and a few mementos he recognized from Najida.

There was the security station, part of the suite Banichi and Jago had already occupied—they were in communication with Tano and Algini, who had just returned to the Guild office some of the armament they had brought back, not quite appropriate for defense in the Bujavid.

And above all, there was that wonderful bath, just as he had left it. At the moment he wouldn’t care if there were Farai currently sittingin that great tub. He had to have his bath, to clear the way for his aishid to use it, and he said finally, with the tour now reduced only to Supani and Koharu, “Nadiin-ji. I am absolutely exhausted.”

“One anticipated so, nandi,” Supani said. “Cook has arranged a light supper for you and your aishid, when they wish.”

A light supper for a late arrival. It was his standing instruction at Najida, and it was perfect for tonight. This staff knew him. This staff understood him. Everything happened by magic. His world was in perfect order: he had a bath waiting, and they would, once Tano and Algini were in, shut the doors definitively and be one household, safe and secure, beyond reach of anyone.

The bulletproof vest fastened under the arm. He shed that overheated confinement with an immense relief. Supani and Koharu reverted to their true and proper jobs, being his valets; Koharu took the vest away to be cleaned, and within a little time he was neck-deep in steaming water and very, very content with the world.

“Shall we leave you, nandi?” Supani asked. “Or would you prefer we stay?”

“Stay, stay,” he said. “Tell me everything.”

So Supani and Koharu sat by informally on the bath benches and chattered on about the staff’s adjustment to the apartment, about the pot and pan situation, and the fact that Pai—a lad from Najida kitchens, not quite a sous-chef, but ambitious and willing—had gone bravely down to the city and bought the essentials along with the groceries, independent of reliance on the Bujavid storehouses, to which they did not have an authorization, an action which it was hoped would be approved.

“Excellent,” he murmured, eyes shut. “And furniture for the staff quarters, nadiin-ji—you are well provided for, one hopes.”

“We are all perfectly content, nandi,” Koharu said. “We are a little short of beds as yet.”

Eyes open. He sat up in the bath. “Oh, this will not do,Haru-ji!”

“Beds are coming, beds are coming, nandi. By the time the staff from the space station arrive, everything will be kabiu and orderly in our quarters. We have only two people as yet unprovided for.”

He sank back again, up to his chin. “One hopes, nadiin-ji. I cannot accept that my staff is sleeping on the floor.”

“We are quite comfortable, nandi, for the time being. Two have doubled up. We have most excellent facilities—those were renovated, too. We have never lived in such modern surroundings.”

“You are content with that.”

“We are very content. We have every convenience.”

They were from a fishing village. A place of great tradition. His apartment was scant of history, but it had some things in which they could take great pride.

And he would have to get a list of what was still needed. For two, going on almost three years now, he had been away, either on the station, the ship, or living a hall away, on Lord Tatiseigi’s charity.

Now he was back in a place utterly dedicated to keeping the paidhi-aiji functioning and doing his job. He had anything he wanted. More money than he could possibly spend, even considering he was renovating Najida, and bringing improvements to Najida village, and assisting with the Edi’s new manor house.

And it was an extraordinary staff, who had left their kinfolk in Najida to come to a city where they knew absolutely no one, only to keep the lord of Najida in comfort. He owed them. He owed them the best he could possibly provide. They, in a different way than his bodyguard, kept him safe and functioning.

“You should each have whatever you wish,” he said. “Just let me know what you need, and I shall sign for it with the Bujavid storage.” He slipped beneath the surface, where all was quiet except the circulating pump, and resurfaced for air, in good humor.

“We truly need very little, nandi.”

“Beds, Haru-ji!”

“It is by no means so grim as that, nandi,” Supani protested, laughing. “Bujavid staff has been very helpful to us. So, one should mention, has your office, which has written orders to have the water and electrics, the proper certificates for maintenance, all these things in order. We have moved very fast, thanks to them, from a complete shutdown of services.”

“Indeed.” His office staff downstairs. His wonderful clerical staff. Another set of heroes of the bad years, and of his time in Tatiseigi’s apartment, and on the coast. The clerks had saved records and handled what they knew how to handle, at times in secret, very dire messages, while in hiding and in fear for their lives—so far as they could, they kept the network connected that had helped bring Tabini back to power.

“All the same, I shall sign any order for staff comfort that crosses my desk, and I place you two in charge of the matter. I hold you responsible for tour groups to visit the city.”

They laughed gently. He ducked back under the perfect water and enjoyed the sensation of the currents.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect homecoming. What more could he possibly ask?

It was a quiet supper of toasted sandwiches he and Jago shared in bathrobes, not in the dining room but in the foresection that was the breakfast room. Tano and Algini and Banichi were in the bath at the moment. It was the men’s shift, Jago having had the tub after him.

And after that delightful supper, which put Jago into a laughing mood, they were bound for bed—until Supani came in to report that the two crates had arrived.

Jago insisted on checking those personally, to be sure they were indeed their crates and, as Jago cheerfully put it, to be certain the porcelains from the Marid were indeed porcelains and nothing but porcelains. They had scanned the crates and found no metal, but she wanted to be sure.

“Do not send the packing away, Jago-ji,” Bren told her. “Tell me when you have them unpacked. We shall be sending them on.”

And Supani reported, too, since they had come to the foyer, that a message from Tabini had arrived during supper, which did need looking at.

It was, perhaps, a mistake not to ask for that message only. One should never, ever check the general mail just before bed. It only led to things one did not wish to know and questions that would keep one from honest sleep.

But curiosity began to niggle away. “Bring all the messages,” he said with a sigh, while Jago and two of the servants were unpacking the porcelains, he sat at his desk in his office and continued to sip his tea until Supani came back with the message bowl.

The bowl was, not unexpectedly, full.

The note from Tabini, unrolled from a red and black message cylinder, began with a courtesy, felicitations on his recovery of the apartment, wishes that he might enjoy the added space, and an order to meet with him next door at the first business hour of the morning. That was not an unexpected summons, either.

The rest—he sorted. He laid aside the messages arriving in other familiar cylinders, some official, from committees, some not—various people who would, one expected, simply be offering courteous, routine felicitations on his safe return. There were a few cylinders from various ministries and committees; those would be all official business, and that lot went back into the basket. Transport and Trade were in that number. They would be requesting meetings at the earliest—he didn’t need to open them to know that. In fact, he had already provided information to those offices regarding the Marid situation, and he needed to meet with them, first on the list of committees. But not tomorrow.

One cylinder bore his own white band. That, he opened. It was from his own clerical office, beginning with, We rejoice, nand’ paidhi, at your safe return,and ending with, There are a few situations in which we may require instruction, and we look forward to receiving your personal direction.

One could bet they looked forward to being inside the information loop instead of putting out fires. They’d been putting out those small fires ever since his unscheduled vacation on the coast had started, he was sure, since that was what they did very effectively—but they were surely weary of delivering the same boilerplate promise to all comers as the crises began to mount : The paidhi will attend to this matter when he returns.

Theywere the office, ordinarily, that prevented him having a message-bowl completely spilling over with messages from ordinary citizens, as mundane and heart-warming as schoolchildren requesting factual answers for their homework, the occasional bewildered individual concerned about holes the shuttles were said to make in the atmosphere, or some citizen warning him of some dire prediction to flow from a committee meeting, a portent their grandmother had found in adding the birthdates of all members likely to attend.

But he could bet, too, that some of the messages that gallant crew had been fending off in the last week were a good deal hotter than the routine. Bullets did not fly and former enemies did not change sides without agitating certain people in positions of power.

And, an item Supani and Koharu would not yet think of arranging and that Narani would certainly not have forgotten, were Narani here yet: he had to talk to Daisibi, head of his clerical office, and be absolutely sure that every committee meeting he was scheduled to attend had an appropriately felicitous flower arrangement at all times. He also had to engage Bujavid security to be sure that no political agent adjusted a display of flowers in any infelicitous fashion. He was back in the land of innuendo, and he had not dealt with that aspect of things in a while, having had Tatiseigi’s very capable majordomo micromanaging his affairs—until now.

Now he needed all the help he could get. He could not expect Supani to understand the ins and outs of political trickery, and he just should not set up appointments on the fly, not until Narani, who was old and canny in these matters, got down from the station to take over.

God, but he surely didn’t want to go down that mental track of detail and detail right before bed.

Talk to his office manager. That was the necessity. Be sure every prospective appointment went through that worthy gentleman, Daisibi.

And quit trying to manage the details himself.

One plain little cylinder remained in the bottom of the bowl, a copper one, topped with a bit of amber and a little fatter than currently stylishcthe sort of thing a businessman might use; it was odd that his office staff let such a thing through to reach him.

The letter inside it brought a smile. He knew that carefully rounded handwriting at first glance. And it was no business solicitation.

It was the aiji’s son.

Cajeiri of Ragi clan to the paidhi-aiji, the Lord of the Heavens, Lord Bren of Najida district.

Please may we share breakfast in the morning, nandi? It is a personal embarrassment that I have no kitchen or dining room to be able to offer, but one would be happy to see everyone at breakfast if you could please invite us. It is very boring already, and you will be too busy.

This letter had to be answered. He took paper and pen, lit the waxjack with a match. and wrote, briefly,

Lord Bren of Najida to Cajeiri-nandi.

It would be the greatest honor to see you at breakfast tomorrow at sunrise. Your bodyguard will also be welcomed to table.

Supani was, typically, not far from his summons. He rang a gentle little bell and delivered one of his silver cylinders, with his own wax seal, into Supani’s hand. “This invites young Cajeiri to breakfast at dawn,” he said. “Deliver it to the aiji’s staff. And do mention to that staff that I have indeed read the aiji’s note and shall be on time for a meeting, so I may be added to his appointments tomorrow.” It was more than likely that his bodyguard had already heard from Tabini’s bodyguard and had intended to tell him in the morning, maneuvering him toward that appointment by arranging his breakfast call at the appropriate time, but everybody was tired, and twice done was better than not done at all. “Tell Cook Cajeiri-nandi and I shall have breakfast in the dining room, with my entire bodyguard and Cajeiri’s, at table together.”

“Yes,” Supani said, and was off to help staff work the magic that always delivered a lord, even a very young one, appropriately dressed, at the appropriate hour, in the appropriate place, and got another very sleepy lord out of bed and dressed for the day, with a breakfast readyc

That was assuming that Tabini let the young rascal come, once the staffs got their information together and told Tabini. It was by no means certain that that initial message had traveled through Tabini’s staff at all on its way to his door and to his staff.

But he honestly hoped that the boy would be allowed to come. And it was a very good guess that the young gentleman would be as happy to see his bodyguard as to see him. If he seated all four of his own bodyguard at breakfast, then courtesy obliged him to extend the same invitation to Cajeiri’s young bodyguard—it would embarrass hell out of the youngsters, likely, whose rank in the Guild did not near approach that of his staff, but it was not as if they were strangers to each other.

Supani left. Jago came to the office doorway to report everything had arrived in good order, unbroken. And with that information, Bren took another of his own message cylinders and wrote a second letter, one he had intended to handle in the morning.

Bren paidi-aiji to nand’ Tatiseigi, Lord of the Atageini,

One rejoices to be back in the Bujavid again, this time in one’s own premises. One will never forget the kindness of your excellent staff and, most of all, the graciousness and generosity of the lord of the Atageini—in gratitude for which one extends a cordial invitation to an informal supper in my modest dining room tomorrow evening. One hopes you will accept such an offering, along with a gift in token of my profound esteem and gratitude for your hospitality.

The gratitude was real. So was the urgent need to talk to the old man before Tatiseigi wound himself up for a fight over the negotiations in the Marid.

He hadn’t personally seen the porcelains. He took the second message cylinder with him to the foyer and found the two massive porcelains set out carefully on the floor, in a scatter of straw and other packing.

My God, he thought at the sight of them. He’d thought the weight, which had made loading them on and off the plane a job for a lift, was mostly the wood and packing. But they were amazing, each of the two a complex weight a human would lift with caution—each a delicate and extraordinary spiral of sea-creatures that imitated the ones on the great pillars of Machigi’s hall, and executed with the hand painting and the glazes that had made Marid work important to collectors across the continent.

They were extravagantly expensive works of art, and there was little to choose between them.

If thisgift didn’t mollify the old lord and set him a littleoff his balance, there was no dealing with the man. He was personally embarrassed that he was this beholden to Machigi.

But there it was.

He made his choice. “Set them both back into their crates,” he told the staff who had been cleaning them of dust. “And deliver the one nearest me tonight, in my name, to nand’ Tatiseigi’s apartment. Advise staff it is extremely fragile and irreplaceable. Then in the morning, after breakfast, deliver this letter.”

A crate, arriving late in the evening, when likely the old man was abed, would get staff attention, and at very least Lord Tatiseigi, a notorious early riser, would see the gift before the sun rose. Madam Saidin, Tatiseigi’s major d’, would see to its proper handling and safe situation, he was entirely confident.

And if he knew Tatiseigi, Tatiseigi the collector would have set his heart on permanently owning that porcelain several heartbeats before any other consideration of indebtedness for the gift occurred to him.

He ordered the recrated porcelain set at the door, dispatched staff to get a dolly, and laid the letter on the foyer table, trusting his orders would be very precisely carried out.

And he went back to his office and wrote a third letter, rubbing his eyes the while and trying to be extremely accurate in phrasing.

Bren paidhi-aiji, Lord of Najida, Lord of the Heavens, to Master Hadiro, Director of Exhibits and Curator of the Bujavid Museum, with respect and honor.

This object is offered for initial private exhibit in the lower hall. Please see that it is available for viewing and that the Merchants’ Guild is specifically invited to its first showing.

Then, tomorrow afternoon, please set it in the public exhibit hall as a gift from Machigi, Lord of the Taisigin Marid, to the people of the aishidi’tat.

One appreciates the extraordinary effort this will require on very short notice and hopes that the piece, on public appearance, will find easy felicity within your arrangements. The arrival of this piece from the Marid had no advance notice, but it has extreme political sensitivity and appears at the request of the paidhi-aiji, in the efforts of peace with the Marid, which should be the theme of this exhibit. One dares not use the seal of the aiji himself, but the paidhi-aiji believes that consultation with his office will assure your office of approval for this exhibit.

Note that the style imitates the famous set of pillars that grace the audience hall in the Residence of Tanaja. The original blues cannot be reproduced—the ancient process relied on a pigment lost when the Great Wave altered the north shore of the Southern Island, but a replica pigment has been used.

One will be greatly indebted for this service to the aiji, good master Hadiro, and one offers personal gratitude and felicitous wishes for your honored self.

Signed. Sealed. To be sent in the morning. With the second piece, to be brought to the specific attention of the kabiu master who saw to the exhibits, with the same caution of extreme fragility and value.

He was ready for bedc

God,no, he wasn’t.

His mind had jumped a track. It landed on the one major job he had to do, aside from all the committee meetings, all maneuvering for politics, and atop everything else.

He had started to get up from his desk. He settled and pulled out another sheet of paper, for an all-important note.

Bren-paidhi to Tabini-aiji, with all respects,

Aiji-ma, in prospect of your command to a meeting tomorrow at the earliest, I would be remiss not to send this tonight. This letter was given me by Lord Machigi in parting, with instructions to use it where I might see fit. I therefore send it to you first of all, as I propose to hand deliver another copy to the aiji-dowager on her return. It is sensitive. Its nature I respectfully and in some distress wish to discuss with you tomorrow at our meeting if you chance to have time to read it. There is another cylinder from the same source, directly addressed to the aiji-dowager, and that one I have not opened, as under private seal.

He opened his briefcase and extracted Machigi’s letter. He made a copy—his office was excellently provided with that capacity. He sealed the letter in his best message cylinder, attaching that cylinder with a wax-sealed cord across the seal of the envelope holding the copy. He rang the bell. Koharu came to the summons, and he gave Koharu his instructions.

And then and there the sheer nervous energy that had driven him through the last few weeks utterly ran out. He was done. His hand was shaking as he pinched out the live flame of the waxjack and got up, heading this time and definitively for his own bed.

His plans were launched. Petals and seeds were all cast to the wind, breakdown of the old relationships and his carefully gathered prospect for the new.

Whether there would come anything good of itche had a moment of bleak doubt, even despair, thinking how radically things had already slipped out of placecthe dowager gone off to Malguri and no chance to consult with her—which saved her reputation if anything should go wrong: no, unfair. It preserved her power to dosomething if something went wrong.

There had been a time when his first communication would have been with Shawn Tyers, on Mospheira; but Shawn wasn’t even in the game, now. Nor was Jase Graham, or any of the ship-captains who ran human affairs.

It was an atevi problem. And it went first of all to Tabini, who might or might not appreciate Machigi’s odd sense of humor.

But given Ilisidi’s departure and the responsibility laid on him, Tabini was where he had to start.

He went to his bedroom and worked his way to the middle of a bed in the heart of the most protected level of the most protected building on the continent, still wondering if he was going to survive the morrow, in the political sense.

He had at least found a warm and comfortable spot for his aching body when Jago showed up, undressed, and slid quietly into the space he had left for her in the dark—or what was total dark to human eyes.

They were longtime lovers, now, he and Jago. They had had far too little opportunity in recent weeks, and truth, given her own bed waiting, and all of them having stood long, long dutyc

“One thought you might prefer your own quarters tonight,” he said to her. “You were so very tired, Jago-ji.”

She gave him a sidelong look he imagined, a familiar movement in the dark, a familiar and much-loved wry humor. “Here is my preference,” she said, and added, “unless you wish to have the bed all to yourself. One can arrange that.”

“By no means,” he said, reaching for her.

He didn’t last long. And in no time at all she fell asleep on his arm, which he could not manage to extract, but that was all right.

He slept, really, blissfully slept, for the first time in weeks, with Jago’s warm presence beside him, and for the first time in many days, notin a just-settled war zone.

6

There was breakfast. And, imminently, the matter of Cajeiri.

“One is not certain that the young gentleman will have advised his parents of his intentions, Haru-ji, or that he will be able to exit his parents’ apartment,” Bren said to Koharu, while dressing with the intent that Koharu should advise their very young and extremely earnest cook that their guest might not make it. “But it is likely he will. —Has any mail arrived this morning?”

“Not yet, nandi,” Koharu said, adjusting the fit of his coat. Koharu had hardly gotten that out when, some distance across the apartment, the front door opened, and Supani, on duty for visitors, was heard to say, “Welcome, young gentleman. May one show you to the dining room?”

Well, that answered the question whether Cajeiri had gotten out of Tabini’s apartment.

It didn’t answer whether he had done it entirely aboveboard.

So the breakfast appointment was at hand.

The meeting with Tabini was equally certain for midmorning.

And the response of Lord Tatiseigi to the gift and the supper invitation was still in question.

The old man was surely thinking about it by now—studying the porcelain from every angle, with, if one judged rightly, absolutely no doubt about its provenance—and with a great deal of curiosity about the circumstances that brought it to him.

Ilisidi wasn’t here to moderate the old gentleman’s temper. She might not be back in time for the legislature’s opening session. She had her own business in the East.

So the Tatiseigi business was all up to him, and he daren’t foul it up.

Diplomacy, diplomacy.

Jago slipped into the room, dressed for court, leathers smartly polished. “Bren-ji,” she said quietly, which meant his aishid was ready and waiting outside the bedroom. He went out with her, gathered up the rest of them and headed for the dining room, where Cajeiri and his bodyguard would already be seated.

Cajeiri and his aishid all stood up, of course, when he and his came in, and they all settled to a quick service of tea and an opening sweet roll—a very nice move on the part of their young cook, Bren thought: Cajeiri was fond of sweets at any meal.

“So how have you found the apartment, young gentleman?” Bren asked.

“I have a suite, nandi!” Cajeiri said brightly. “One was permitted to pick out furniture.”

“One is glad, young gentleman.”

“Has nand’ Toby reached Mospheira yet?”

“He sailed right on schedule, and one assumes so. We were a little worried about the weather, but he swore it would be no problem.”

“He and Barb-daja are very good sailors, nandi.”

“Far better than I am, young gentleman. I have every confidence in them.”

“Have you heard from mani yet?”

“Not yet, young gentleman. Your great-grandmother promised to be back as quickly as she can get the marriage contract signed and witnessed.”

“That poor woman who has to marry Baijic”

“Exactly. Your great-grandmother can hardly rush things. The young lady is due a fine wedding, at very least, and relatives have to have time to get there.”

“How long does she have to put up with him? —Is that talking about business at table, nandi?”

Bren had to laugh, the question was so aside and so solemn; and he saw Banichi and the rest of his aishid smothering mild amusement, though Lucasi and Veijico looked a little embarrassed, and Antaro and Jegari looked worried.

“No,” he said gently and quickly, “no, young gentleman, we two are merely gossiping, since neither of us is involved directly in the politics of the wedding, nor proposes to be.”

“So how long will she have to live with him?”

“Until there is a child confirmed, young gentleman. Which verges on a topic you should doubtless address to your parents.”

“Oh, one knows all about that,nandi.”

Bren took a piece of sugared toast from the server. One did not ask the source of the young gentleman’s expertise, no. Some things were best not said at breakfast.

“Well, the contract will run only so long as need be,” Bren said. “The young lady in question is quite intelligent and very capable of seeing through all of Baiji’s lies and protestations. And the baby—assuming there will be a baby—will have man’chi to her and to Lord Geigi. But well before the baby has a name, Baiji will be living in retirement—a comfortable retirement, at least as the East understands comforts. He will have the society of his servants, whom your great-grandmother will install, and a bodyguard your great-grandmother will also install, and he will not visit the west again so long as he lives. So I do not believe we are likely to see Baiji again.”

“He is incredibly stupid,” Cajeiri said, taking three pickled eggs. “And if he is stupid again and offends Great-grandmother, he will be verysorry for it.”

“One dares say,” Bren said, and decided they had gone quite far as could be useful in discussing that scoundrel’s prospects. “But tell me about your new suite, young sir.”

“I have a bedroom and an office and a sitting room, and my bodyguard has their rooms,” Cajeiri said with a burst of enthusiasm, eggy knife suspended in fist. “And plants. I have a lot of plants!”

“ Plants, young sir.” Potted plants were comparatively rare in atevi homes. Public places might have them. It was a particularly odd choice in a boy of eight.

“Like your cabin on the ship, nandi!”

“That bad?” he laughed. “For all I know the things are growing all over the station by now.”

“Your cabin had them everywhere,” Cajeiri recalled. “And I very much enjoyed them. They would move when the air blew. It was like being in a garden.” A deep breath. “I enjoy being outdoors. I detest being locked up all the time. When you do go back to Najida, nand’ Bren, pleasetake me with you! I promise I shall be no trouble at all!”

“ Withyour father’s permission, one would have no hesitation in having you as my guest again, young gentleman. But you must please him.”

A sigh and a frown. “Nobody can ever be thatgood, nandi!”

“Your father must be happy with you if he lets you pick out your own furniture.”

“Mother did. One hardly knows why.”

“One is certain your father had something to do with it.”

“My father gets me worse and worse tutors. Everything is boring. They mumble. Na, na, na. I detest it. Youcould teach me. You and Banichi, nandi!”

“I fear your father has us both quite busy for now, young sir.”

The next course arrived.

“But you promisedto take me out on your boat, nandi. You promised, you promised, you promised! So you have to get me back to Najida, or you will have a promise you never kept!”

Cajeiri wassometimes eight. And at such times the paidhi was obliged notto be.

“Whenever your father approves such a visit, young gentleman, one will certainly keep that promise. But I fear,” Bren added, cold-bloodedly swerving the conversation off that reef, “that your father is already suspicious that my inexperience with young gentlemen does not offer adequate supervision. I fear I have only just escaped his extreme displeasure in the business at Najida, and one very much hopes you are indeed permitted to be here this morning.”

“We are here,” Cajeiri declared, heir to his father’s and his great-grandmother’s quickness of wit. “We are permitted to visit here! Wedo not detect any displeasure!”

That was only partly reassuring, though one was not so ungracious as to say so. “Yet Ihave felt responsible for the danger you were in,” Bren said, ladling up an egg, “and we assure you that, had I lost you, young gentleman, I could hardly have faced your father or your great-grandmother again. My life would have been over.”

“It would not!”

“Well, not by your father’s doing, but one doubts he would ever regard me kindly again.”

“But I am not reckless,” Cajeiri said. “I have improved!”

“That you have, young gentleman. You have improved greatly this year, in good sense, in maturity, and in perception of others’ motives. And now you are protected by your own aishid. So I should not be surprised if one day soon you do come to visit at Najida.”

Cajeiri had swallowed half an egg, clearing his mouth for a strong argument, and suddenly seemed a little perplexed to be agreed with.

“And I shall be extremely happy to welcome you when you do,” Bren added. Sad, sad, to feel a little triumph at getting the better of an eight-year-old in an argument, when he had yet to face the lords of the aishidi’tat on the floor of the legislature.

But he had, he hoped, made the point with the boy, that his credit with Tabini might well have suffered from recent events. He loved the kid, humanly speaking, that most reckless of emotions; but it was hard not to. And he constantly worried the lad’s precocity would someday land him in some misjudgment far exceeding the skill of his young bodyguard to protect him. One perceived a new danger: now that Cajeiri had at least half of a real Guild bodyguard, with the other half in training, that the boy might soon move beyond his usual pranks and bet far too heavily on their abilities.

It wasn’t fair to the scamp’s young bodyguard, either, who certainly had a great deal staked on his survival—their lives and reputations, for starters.

“I promise I shall talk to your father,” Bren said, “when the day comes that I can get back to Najida myself. They will build the new wing this year, once they are sure of the main roof. I had far rather be there at the moment, watching it.”

“I wish,I wishI could see the building! I could learn far more about building than any tutor could teach me!”

“Well, young gentleman, one is certain your tutor could think of problems of that nature, particularly in design, in architecture, in math, or in history. You could ask him your questions on the Najida repairs. And one would delight to provide you pictures of the work in progress. That might actually get an interesting answer.”

A flick of gold, perpetually curious eyes. “One might win favor of my tutor,” the imp said with a little grin. “And one wishes very much to see the pictures. Perhaps I shall ask him hardquestions, nand’ Bren. Tell me a hard question to ask him!”

That was Cajeiri. He would be in the dictionary looking up the biggest words to use with such questions before the next tutoring session.

Which would do the rascal no harm at all.

“Ask him,” Bren said, “about the difficulties of extending a roof and a basement on an old building, and how one can be certain the foundation will hold the weight of a new story.”

“I shall, nandi!”

“Meanwhile,” Bren said, seeing the end of breakfast at hand, “you might enjoy touring the changes in thisapartment. And perhaps you might see my library set up with books you have never seen.”

The rascal was delighted to have a tour of the apartment and particularly delighted to be able to borrow a book on, of all things, the history of Mount Adams. The lad had always had a penchant for geography, even of places as remote from him as the moon.

But Cajeiri had actually seen Mount Adams once. He was among a very few living atevi who could say that. One should never forget that point.

Clearly Cajeiri hadn’t.

And the book was in Mosphei’, which was very close to ship-speak. Cajeiri wasn’t letting that language go, either—for good or for ill. It was an uneasy matter with his parents, and particularly with his Ajuri grandfather. But worse, in Bren’s opinion, if one tried to cut him off from the language and pretend he had no such associations. This was a boy who met prohibitions with deviousness.

In that thought, one let him take the book. It wasn’t the same, at least, as the human television archive, which Tabini had outright, and probably wisely, forbidden him until he reached his majority.

So the boy left happy in his acquisition. Cajeiri was subversively teaching ship-speak to his aishid, one was relatively sure of it. The thought did occur to him that probably he should tell Tabini that what was likely going on.

But, then, if Ilisidi hadn’t mentioned it to Tabini, who was he to intervene?

It was a change of coats for the next meeting of the morning—and, thank God, so long as the meeting was on the upper floors of the Bujavid, his bodyguard let him out his front door without the bulletproof vest. Bren didn’t thinkTabini would shoot him, granted that the young gentleman had actually had permission to come next door for breakfast.

But he hadn’t had a face-to-face meeting with Tabini, not since, on the dowager’s orders, he’d veered significantly off course from his loyalty to Tabini and gone to meet with a Marid lord on whom Tabini had already Filed Intent.

“Is there any whisper yet from Lord Tatiseigi’s staff?” he asked Koharu, as he was leaving his front door.

“No, nandi,” Koharu said, and Bren looked at his bodyguard with the same question on his mind.

“None, Bren-ji,” Banichi said. “As yet there is still no message from that quarter.”

Worrisome. And puzzling. The old man couldn’t keep most secrets an hour. Neither, notoriously, and thanks to impossibly antiquated (but expensive!) systems at his estate, could his staff keep a secret.

And Bren’s own security, who were tapped into every electronic whisper in the Bujavid, wasn’t picking up anything from Tatiseigi?

He was sure now that the old man was more upset with him than he’d thought. And the ploy might crash, terribly. But he would have to patch that afterhe answered sharp questions from Tabini.

So with that niggling at his mind, he took his bodyguard and went into the hall and next door.

Tabini’s major domo let them in, and Cajeiri was noton the spot to meet him.

Significant? Possibly Cajeiri had retreated to his suite with his borrowed book and had no idea there were visitors at the front door.

Possibly he had gotten specific orders from his father to stay out of meetings. That would be a novelty.

Or—who knew?—perhaps Cajeiri sensed his father was annoyed with the Marid business and had decided on his own notto be in the target zone.

The major domo showed Bren straight into the sitting room, offered him a chair in a small formal grouping at the head of the room, farthest from the fire, and offered tea, which one was obliged to accept. Banichi and Jago took their stations by the door, inside; Tano and Algini would stand outside—that was the custom. In effect, Banichi and Jago would be privy to everything said between the lords in question, and Tano and Algini would be talking to the other half of Tabini’s bodyguard and getting up to speed on things lords didn’t routinely say to each other, getting any warnings they ought to know aboutcor delivering them. Algini was, in fact, actually senior to nine-tenths of Tabini’s staff andbodyguard, and had probably been in direct contact with the Assassins’ Guild’s central offices since they’d come in last night.

But the paidhi wasn’t supposed to know anything about that.

Tabini at least didn’t keep him waiting. The aiji came right into the sitting room from the private entry, dressed in far brighter colors than he had worn in recent meetings: a ruby-red coat and elaborate black lace sparked with rubies or garnets, elaborate court dress that made one glad to have at least changed coats for the occasion. Likely it reflected a meeting after his. There was no reason for Tabini-aiji to put on any show for him.

Bren stood up and bowed. Tabini bowed slightly, sat down and waved a dismissive hand at the whole situation.

“Sit, sit, paidhi. Nadiin-ji, tea, if you will.”

The servants hurried about it, pouring tea into very elegant cups, serving, and then removing themselves to the corners of the room to await an empty cup.

“And how did my son deport himself this morning?” Tabini asked, by way of the requisite small talk.

“Oh, excellently well, aiji-ma.”

“Does he bother you? A plain answer on that, if you please.”

“In no wise does he, aiji-ma. He is a delightful distraction and a welcome guest. One hopes, however, that he had permission.”

“He did.”

That was a relief. “One should have checked, aiji-ma. I was remiss last night, and realized that this morning, after he had arrived.”

“He has not made any outrageous requests of you.”

“None outrageous. He wishes to go to Najida and watch the construction, and he justly reminds me he has not yet had a fishing trip on my boat, which I long ago promised him.”

“My son,” Tabini said, and sighed. “You are the momentary center of his man’chi, one sees, and you surely sense this. He is obsessed with exploration. And one apologizes for the inconvenience.”

“By no means, aiji-ma. He is pleasant company, delightful company—and his perception of hazards is increasing.” A breath. “Let me say, however, now that everyone is safe, one does profoundly apologize for events on the peninsula.”

Tabini gave a wry frown. “He learns lessons in your care that his tutors could not teach him—that, in fact, wecannot teach him.” A leisurely sip of tea. “Court bores him, and boredom will turn him sour and warp him. I knowthis boy, paidhi-ji. I wassuch a boy.”

“If one can help him, aiji-ma, one is glad.”

“One would even add—and you should by nomeans report this to my grandmother—that I regard herteaching as invaluable. I would not have survived a year in office without the lessons she taught. I certainly would have not survived the latest attempt on my life.”

“One understands, aiji-ma.”

Second slow sip of tea. “You may well have wondered, in the course of recent years, why I sent my son to space, and why lately, having a chance to bring my son out of Najida, I left him in your care, at risk of his life and person.”

Bren took a sip of his own, thinking fast; whether it was a slow set-up, or Tabini in a reflective mood? “One is much too involved in this to have good perspective, aiji-ma. One hopes not to have been a bad influence on him.”

“He needs thoughts that challenge him. He is far too bright. And dangerous to the future of all we have built if misdirected. His tutors have never gained his respect. He defies them and plays cruel jokes on them, absolutely unconscionable disrespect, however amusing. He slips out unsupervised. Gods less fortunate, he has stolen away on a freight train. He has stolen a boat. One does not wish to encourage this sort of behavior, and mere lectures and punishment will not stop it. A dose of the real world seems a far better lesson, and none better to teach him behavior under fire than his great-grandmother. And none better to teach him the complexity of the world—and the contradictions within what looks right—than you, paidhi-aiji.”

That was a different way to look at his function. So he was the subversive influence. It was his assigned job in child management, in Tabini’s reckoning.

“His mother,” Tabini said, “was exceedingly put out with me for leaving him there. So were her relatives, you may understand. But what would he have done if I had brought him back to the Bujavid? He would be back at petty mischief, longing to make another escape right back to the middle of things. He would grow willful and bitter and less obedient. I think that leaving him where I did actually scared him, paidhi-ji, and very few things have done that.”

“He did learn, aiji-ma. And he gained the man’chi of the two guards you gave him.”

“Those two!” Tabini said.

“They acquitted themselves well, finally, aiji-ma.”

“That they did, after near disaster! But they have gotten his respect, more the wonder. He is listeningto someone advising him to protect himself. That is an improvement.” Tabini gave a deep sigh and signaled for more tea, a period of quiet, while the servants poured.

Then Tabini said: “And our son has, given his powers of persuasion, made associations. The challenges my son will meet in his life will be fewer if his relationships are far-reaching and sound. Dur. The tribes. Lord Geigi of Maschi clan, director of atevi affairs on the space station all worth winning. His connections are enough to daunt his enemies.”

“One has observed that he has exerted himself to be well-regarded; and it is not childlike, his pursuit of such relationships. He is growing in adult intent, aiji-ma.”

“One credits you and his great-grandmother for this growth in good sense. And I especially count Cenedi and Banichi, whom he regards highly and whose advice he respects far more than mine. He quotes them daily.”

“Aiji-ma.”

“Oh, let us be frank, paidhi-ji. He believes Banichi knows everything, and Cenedi is close behind.” A sip, a little glance toward Banichi and Jago, who stood nonparticipant and statuelike against the wall. “One is less sure of the common sense of his newest bodyguards, but your bodyguard and my grandmother’s recommend them.”

“Their bravery in his service one never questioned. But their reading of a situation, aiji-ma, has markedly improved.”

“And their man’chi is, your bodyguard feels, to him. In the light of troubles within the Guild—of which you are far too aware, paidhi-ji—this is a matter of deep concern. You know about this. You know detail about this about which most of the lords of the aishidi’tat are ignorant.”

“I have been made aware of things,” he said. “Yes, aiji-ma.”

Tabini set his cup down, definitively. Small talk was done. “Certain lords, you are also aware, have never agreed with my selection of Taibeni clan for both domestic staff andmy bodyguard. Some have protested most household assignments being given to one clan, myclan. But considering that even the bodyguard the Guildsent me on my return tried to kill me—I decided I prefer to know intimately the family connections of the men who stand at my back and serve my tea. Granted, the ones who betrayed this household were deep agents. But recent events have shown we still have problems.” Tabini frowned, hands steepled. “Paidi-ji, we— I—did not, believe me, have any warning of the situation you were going into on the Coast.”

“One would never have thought so, aiji-ma.”

“Hear me out, paidhi-ji, and understand me to the depth. I have read Machigi’s letter. And what I have to tell you may be worse than you think.”

“Aiji-ma.”

“We knew that there was Senji pressure on the Maschi lord at Targai. We also knew that young Baiji’s lordship in Kajiminda was irresponsible, and we suspected he might have mismanaged the estate and run up debt, which might ultimately necessitate our intervention. We frankly had chosen not to trouble Lord Geigi with that fact because we needed him where he has been—a fortunate situation, as happened. We now know, as you do, that the threads of misdeed ran to a far more serious situation than petty embezzlement; but at the time we were distracted by the malfeasance of the Maschi lord at Targai, whom we suspected of an agreement with the Marid—another situation we did not want to bring to light, because the last thing we wanted to do was to destabilize Maschi clan. We thought we would have to deal with him and that that might bring Lord Geigi’s nephew into line without us having to embarrass Lord Geigi and bring him down to the world. We certainly believed you were safe at Najida. In fact, in prospect of your visiting Baiji, and jar something useful out of the young man—that your close relationship with Lord Geigi might give him courage enough to start talking about Targai. We did know that he had lost the services of the Edi. We knew he was selling off items he had no right to sell. Our intelligence indicated that the Guild presence on his staff was new, and from Separti, since the bodyguard his mother had left him had died in the Troubles. We at no point in that sequence attributed those people to a Marid cell in Separti Township. This is all the information we had under thisroof. We were being systematically fed bad information, in fact, and some things were not remotely suspected.”

“My domestic staff knew there was some degree of trouble at Kajiminda,” Bren said, “but did not pass those suspicions on to me, for fear of involving themselves in what theyassumed I was there secretly to investigate. They indicated troubles, but I thought it involved overspending and Baiji’s failure to pay his debts, purely financial difficulties, which I could solve. It was a situation straight from the machimi.”

“And of course my wayward son turned up there amid it all,” Tabini said with a sigh. “But even so, there was no apprehension here of any danger from that quarter, and I was constantly assured the Guild had been keeping a close watch on the Marid for its own reasons, and that the Marid was bubbling with plots as usual, but all confined to the Northern Marid. My grandmother heard about my son’s little escapade and did not delay to argue with me or to be fully informed of the situation as we saw it—which was to the good, since we would have tried to assure her there was no reason for alarm. She simply turned her plane around and headed for Najida—and, a situation that I assure you, I do take for irony— Iwas most worried that she would agitate the Marid and disturb Guild investigations in the region. She,assuming that the briefing Cenedi had gotten from the Guild was complete, let you andmy son go visiting in Kajiminda. The Guild, which had a great deal more critical information and which should have done something, said nothingto Cenedi.”

That sent a little chill through him, added to the rest of it. The Guild had kept an operation secret, not just from the paidi-aiji—but from its own strategically placed senior members and from the governmentcrisking the heir to the aishidi’tat, as if he mattered nothing?

“Do you understand what I am saying, paidhi-ji?” Tabini asked quietly, grimly. “I think you do. The fact is, wewere not informed. Nor were you. Nor was the aiji-dowager. Whether we lived or died did not matter to the persons who blundered their way through that decision, with this and that priority, and protecting this and that operation, and nobodywith vision beyond their own chessboard, who would say—it will be inconvenient if we lose the paidhi-aiji. It will be inconvenient if we have the heir to the aishidi’tat kidnapped. Did these things occur to them? They were each worried about security in their own little part of the map, and Najidawas not part of their individual responsibility—no one got clearance to phone Cenedi and tell him his information was incomplete, because Cenedi had asked one simple question: Is Kajiminda safe? And they lied to him.

It was shocking. It was more shocking to think the Guild had been that far in disarray.

“You would think,” Tabini said, “that it was simple incompetence. But that is not the Guild hallmark, is it, paidhi?”

Thatbecame ominous. “You think—there was ill intent in that decision, aiji-ma?”

“Having your bodyguard andthe aiji-dowager’s in one place at one time, comparing notes freely with my bodyguard out in Najida districtcturned up things we were none of us apt to learn otherwise. And having access to ranking Guild with contrary opinions that certain biases could notattribute to Taibeni politics within my staff, frankly, has been a revelation.”

He did not understand—except—

“Someone,” Tabini said quietly, “prevented both my aishid and yours andthe dowager’s from getting critical information. Someone put the secrecy of a Guild operation and perhaps the exercise of a personal pique above the safety of my household—the excuse being that my guard is not senior in Guild rank, and that they are Taibeni, a clan that has never figured in internal Guild committee politics. Myguard was not taken into confidence. Well, I knew that their clan was an issue when I appointed them past the recommendation of the Guild and jumped them two ranks doing it. I am stillsafer, and I sleep better at night. I was, let me assure you, paidhi-ji, right!—and recent events have proven it.”

“Aiji-ma,” Bren said in dismay.

“More than the aishidi’tat fractured when they attempted to assassinate me and my house, paidhi. And I tell you this in utmost confidence, and in the presence of Guild witnesses. There have been, paidhi-ji, fourfactions in the Guild, nota fortunate number of opinions. The first is what one may call the elder Guild, who have not involved themselves in political opinion and who have managed the Guild honorably for decades. The second is of course the renegades, who, far from following politics of the clans, rose up inside the Guild, overthrew the elder Guild, attempted to assassinate me, and, finding I do not die easily—were driven from power. They set up their rival Guild authority—the shadow Guild, as you have aptly called them—in the Marid. We found them. And now a new, younger leadership in the Guild has moved to strike down the Shadow Guild, but they do nottake advice from the elder Guild. They are the ones who were running the investigation in the Marid; theyare the ones who, meeting in Guild Council, could not come to a conclusion. They are divided by man’chi to various of the departed leadership—protégés of this and that elder Guild, advocates of this and that policy, when they have no business determining policy. They are, in some cases, regional in sympathy. Some of the elder Guild, for which we may be thankful, are now coming out of retirement to retake their old posts. Has Algini told you any of this?”

“No, aiji-ma. Not in such detail. Not with such connections.”

“Algini is himself, one believes, aligned with the elder Guild, which has its iron traditions, and that element of the Guild has a dilemma on its hands. First of all rules is that they do notinvolve themselves in politics. But in this case, the politics exist within the Guild itself—some honest younger Guild have gone against the elder Guild as too conservative and blind to what they conceive as a drift toward human influence.”

“One has perceived that undercurrent in the general politics, aiji-ma, and one bitterly regrets it.”

“ Theseelements,” Tabini said, “are a problem. But they have their expression in legitimate politics, among them the Conservative Caucus. They do not worry me. There are those who have taken a position because of their man’chi to other Guild or to specific clans. These people, while decent enough persons morally, have seriously infracted Guild rules. Two of that sort are your old servants, who protest that their sole aim in attempting to rejoin your household was to protect you.”

“One is distressed at their situation.” Moni and Taigi attempted to return to his service, and his bodyguard had taken exception. “I refused them.” He corrected himself. “My bodyguard refused them.”

“Correctly so,” Tabini said. “Nor should you take them back.”

“May one ask—what their connections are?”At the time he had employed them, he had not had the cachet to ask. Now he did.

“Ajuri,” Tabini said bluntly.

Tabini’s wife’sclan. Damiri’s clan. Cajeiri’s grandfather’sclan.

That was a surprise.

“You do not ask,” Tabini observed. “Your aishid has asked. And well they might.”

Tabini had assigned Moni and Taigi to the paidhi’s house ages ago. Ajuri, trying to get a spy or two near their daughter, in Tabini’s house, had found its spies instead assigned to thecat the timecrelatively innocuous paidhi-aiji.

Thathad to have annoyed the lord of the Ajuri.

Now he could see how it had become useful to Ajuri to have them back in the paidhi’s household, delivering information to Ajuri. Entirely understandable.

Equally understandable—his bodyguard had very quietly routed them straight to the aiji’s attention, which had notbeen favorable.

And the Guild did have clannish politics. The Guild had always had.

“No,” Tabini said, “they are not the depth of the problem. Or the height of it. The Guildmaster’s council. This is the sum of it: after the events on the west coast, we sent the strongest possible message to the Guild. My bodyguard was recently called to a meeting about which they correctly decline to report, except to say they were satisfied and that there has been a bitterly contested retirement.”

A retirement. At high levels within the Guild, one could surmise.

“Preceding the decision to table the Guild action on Machigi,” Tabini added.

Thatfar back. He was, again, stunned. Thatafternoon, of his firstbus trip into the Marid, when he had gotten the absolutely insane request from the dowager to turn from his original mission and go talk to Machigi, who had supposedly been trying to kill Tabini, and kill the dowager, and him, and Cajeiri.

A retirement. Thenthe vote had gone through.

Cenedi, head of the dowager’s bodyguard, had been in contact with the Guild in Shejidan, and someone had resigned. An office had changed hands inside the dark confines of the Assassins’ Guild, and the whole character of the Guild operation had shifted as if a switch had been thrown, from a determination to take Machigi out and use his territory as a base—to the dowager’s determination to preserve Machigi and create a new regional power in the Marid.

And some influence had been upset when Tabini chose not a bodyguard of the Guild’s choice but only Taibeni clan, his own clan, to run his household and defend him.

“And regarding Machigi,” Tabini said. “This letter.”

God. The letter. From the otherside of this confused table. “Aiji-ma.”

“How do youread Lord Machigi, paidhi-ji?”

“In all that I have just heard—one is trying to reassess, aiji-ma.”

“Personally. How do you see him?”

“An intelligent man. Young. Too young, perhaps, to be wise, but possibly headed in that direction. He has good advisors, one thinks—smart men who have maneuvered themselves into a position and decided to deal with the Guildc.but now—now one is not as certain whatone has observed.”

“Do you have any suspicion that his advisors may have contacted Cenedi in advance of the dowager’s sending you to him?”

That was another thunderbolt.

“One had not remotely suspected such a thing, aiji-ma.”

“These four Guildsmen of his are clever people,” Tabini said. “Certainly capablecbut that can go either way. And this young lord they support—is definitely a remarkable young man. One knows he is changing ships, one having begun to leak, so to speak. But what ship was he on in the first place?”

“One has reservations on that matter, aiji-ma. One acquired reservations while reading that letter. Do you think he may have been behind the coup against you? That all prior suspicions were correct that blamed the whole event on him?”

“That does leave out his northern neighbor, who turned out to host the shadow Guild. If Machigi was colluding with the lord of the Dojisigi—he has a talent for the stage. There truly seems deep animosity there.”

“But the Shadow Guild itself could easily have switched patrons.”

“Certainly it could,” Tabini said, with a tight, unpleasant smile. “ Manythings are possible once the Guild itself starts directing politics instead of responding to the interests of the lords and the people.”

Which brought it down to a very uncomfortable question. “Have I made a mistake, aiji-ma? I confess—I thought I was understanding his motives and his reactions until I read that letter. Since then—”

Tabini gave a short, silent laugh. “I most fear stupid people. Stupid people will do anything. Truly smart people will do only what is logical for them to do. That should more often put us on the same side as Machigicif he composed the letter himself.”

“It is at least his turn of speech, aiji-ma. And one might add, it is his sense of humor.”

“How much of his opinion do you think represents his bodyguard, and how much is the man himself?”

“He has taken their advice, but if a human can read him at all, he is not at all their puppet. And he shifted from opposition to reasoning responses to my statements, which sounded genuine.”

“This bodyguard of his,” Tabini said, leaning back in his chair. “My bodyguard has had difficulty getting at Guild records until quite latelycin fact, until the resignation I mentioned. But between you and me and the ears of our bodyguards, it is possible the fathers of those four men, his bodyguards, were put there by my grandfather. Orby my grandmother.”

“ The aiji-dowager, aiji-ma?”

“Ilisidi. You may have met her. —Gods less fortunate, paidhi, she is a persistent woman!”

“One is shocked, aiji-ma. Things in what you have told me have astonished me, but this one—I am quite absolutely shocked to think so, but—indeed, she might.”

“This business in the Marid is an agenda predating both of us, paidhi! The woman is following a persistent purpose my father refused and my grandfather before him died cursing. And here she is with me—proposing two new lordships, allying with the Marid, upsetting the entire aishidi’tat, and all this without the least advisement to us what she had in mind. What she has alwayshad in mind, from the foundation of the world, for all we can tell!”

Bren drew in a long breath, and braced himself. “Yet—if it brings peace and stabilizes the aishidi’tat, aiji-ma, might it be right?”

“Only one man in the court would dare say that to me.”

“Forgive me, aiji-ma,cbut—still—”

“You have backed the Edi question, paidhi! You have taken her side—you have spent far more time with her than I have, since she has not seen fit to consult me on such matters. You lived with her for two yearsconly scarcely in the Bujavid. You have not only represented her—you have represented this Taisigi warlord!”

Dangerous. Dangerous edge.

“Have I indeed erred in my judgment, aiji-ma? One thought—one thought that a peace with the Marid benefited the aishidi’tat and therefore benefited you. One thought—with potential trouble in the heavens—having your administration at peace with all elements was good. One thought, however, that you did not wish to be informed until this had either failed or gotten to a workable statec”

Expressions warred on Tabini’s face, somewhere between real exasperation and anger. Finally he said: “Deniability on my part does not mend things my grandmother may have upset to the northof here. Do you know any less obviousplan my grandmother has in mind?”

To the north of herec

Northward sat, of most note, the Ajuri. Damiri’s clan. The maternal relatives of Tabini’s heir. With whom Tatiseigi of the Atageini had an ongoing feud. “No, aiji-ma. I do not know of any plan.”

“You agree with the aiji-dowager?”

“I have agreed with her that what solves the long difficulty on the west coast makes the aishidi’tat that much stronger. That was my opinion. —But—”

“You have not yet had to deal with the northwest,” Tabini said glumly. “Ajuri and interests in their district will not be pleased with this: it challenges the arrangement of power within the aishidi’tat, and they view themselves as emergent influences. Nor will the Padi Valley, which has suffered directly from the Marid’s actions. That covers a considerable portion of the aishidi’tat, and we have not even gotten to the eastern mountains, where no two people hold the same political opinion.”

“Aiji-ma, if I have failed to comprehend, if I should have consulted—”

“You could not consult. The situation within the Guild unfolded as she sent you to Machigi in the first place. And she knows, gods unfortunate, she well knows what Ajuri is up to, and my grandmother is not a patient woman.” A long, deep breath. “Paidhi, I sent my son to the Atageini with her because his life was in danger in the Bujavid; I separated my household so they could not strike us all at once. I sent him to space because it was safer than his being on earth, and because, should I fall, I wanted him taught revengeby his grandmother. The Ajuri were irate at his being a guest in Atageini. They were not happy when I removed him to space, completely out of their reach. Now that he is back, they are bent on gaining influence to check the Atageini. There are also those trying to counter any rise in Ajuri influence—I number among them the Kadagidi, who also oppose the Atageini. My grandmother may unite the west coast, yes. But one has to fear that she will also unite the northwest with the north central, and not in a good way.”

“Lord Dur is loyal, of clans in the northwest. The Gan certainly will be. There is lord Geigi’s surrogate in Targai, in the southwest, not to mention the Edi. They are firm beyond any doubt. And there is the Eastc”

“Where my grandmother proposes to create another raging controversy. One has no doubt she is out there in Malguri at this moment doing far more than marrying off that fool Baiji to that ambitious relative of hers! One is quite certain she is also meeting with the Eastern lords and proposing to overturn order there!It is no guarantee the villages of the coast will be grateful to have Marid foreigners sailing into their fishing grounds, if such ships ever survive the southern seas to get there.”

“Yet—if she can cure Marid poverty—and eastern poverty—with one stroke, then the things prosperity can buy, the technology, all of that comes from the central clans and from the trade with the space station. Such things come from alliance with you,aiji-ma, and while Machigi seems worried that you may choose to embarrass him during his visit, one believes he sees exactly where this mustgo, which is toward full participation in the aishidi’tat, or toward his eventual demise as a minor lord in a divided Marid. One believes he hovers between fear this is all a plot to kill him and take over the Marid—and the hope that what the dowager has presented him might work, because it would certainly be hard for Shejidan to rule the Marid. This is a young man who, offered a ship to go to safety during the action down there, instead went overland to confront what was happening on Taisigi land, for the protection of his people. This was not the act of a coward. Or a selfish ruler.”

Tabini listened to him, thoughts flickering in those pale gold eyes. “You hold a good opinion of him.”

“I did, aiji-ma—at least until I read that letter.”

“The letter is interesting. And you say he agreed to my seeing it.”

“One believes he intended you see it, aiji-ma.”

“He is no fool,” Tabini said, nodding slowly. “So you have presented us with the Edi, the Gan, and the Marid. Perhaps we can hold the aishidi’tat together until my grandmother deigns to show up and tell us the rest of her plan. I hope for that hour!”

“I have written, aiji-ma, to Lord Tatiseigi, with some diffidence—but attempting to make a delicate approach to him, thinking perhaps to maintain this action of mine as a private approach. I acquired a porcelain in the South. Another, to display to the Merchants. But one for him, not in the character of a bribe. I do owe him. And I wish to let him see something I saw, that quite changed my view of the Marid as only fishing boats.”

“Before my grandmother returns,” Tabini said. “She has left you with this problem. Left youto court Tatiseigi and the committees and guilds.”

“One was attempting, aiji-ma, to better relations with nand’ Tatiseigi before he should take a public position against it—which one hoped would be moderated by his high regard for the dowager. But this still, at your order, aiji-ma, could be finessed.”

“He took a position eighty years ago and has not changed it since.”

“One still—was his guest, aiji-ma. One hoped, in that consideration—”

“You are going to vote againstthe cell phone bill.”

He drew in a breath. Total change of direction. But intimately connected to the topic of Tatiseigi, who opposed the bill. As Tabini supported it, in theory.

He nodded. “Aiji-ma, for reasons. For reasons. Which are neither here nor there in the current matter.”

“To him they are. He will believe he has had influence. That you have bent to that influence.”

“If you could postpone the bill, aiji-ma—”

Tabini muttered, then waved a deprecatory hand. “The Guild has approached me on this matter, and we are in discussions already. This may not be the year to consider the matter. But let me urge you to caution with Tatiseigi. There isthe situation we have already discussed, that in the north. It is delicate.”

The Ajuri. God.

“It is delicate enough,” Tabini said, “and this I say in confidence—that my wife is being put in a difficult position. Her father wants influence through her. And if she chooses to become a vessel for Ajuri influence—she and I may not continue this marriage.”

“Aiji-ma.”

“Say nothing of it to my son.”

“Of course not, aiji-ma.”

“One expects the lord of Ajuri will object to anythingthat promotes Lord Tatiseigi’s interests. The jealousy involved there is extreme.”

“Regrettably, —aiji-ma, I have already sent the porcelain to Lord Tatiseigi and asked for a meeting with him. And he isa key ally of the aiji-dowager. I regret not having waited for her, however. Now I greatlyregret it.”

“Finesse it. Finesse it. That is all I will say, if you must meet with him. Business of the aishidi’tat cannot stop because Ajuri threatens. One is not sanguine about your chances of converting Lord Tatisiegi to a regard for Lord Machigi, however.”

“One felt the need to try to approach him, aiji-ma, for fear he would take offense to be put off by her absence.”

“Nand’ paidhi, between Geigi’s feud with him and Ajuri’s feud with him, one fears you are stepping into deep water, but go to it, go to it. But do not attempt to convert him to a regard for Lord Ajuri. Thatis due, one fears, to get worse very quickly.”

“Aiji-ma, if one is accidentally stepping into a private situation, one can delay—”

“The one in the most delicate position in this matter is my son,paidhi-ji. My son is not to be informed of this situation with his mother’s clan. And one is certain you will respect that.”

“Absolutely, aiji-ma.”

“Baji-naji, fortune and chance, where it regards Lord Tatiseigi. Understand, the Ajuri may be a small clan, but they are very influential in the collection of small clans that constitutes the north, and they have long had a certain influence in the Guild. Their marriage to my house once made sense. Now it makes them a far greater problem than their size would indicate, and the impending birth of a second child has the old rivalry between Ajuri and Atageini quite—lively at the moment. Ajuri seeks every opportunity to find fault with the Atageini”

One could notask where Damiri stood on the matter. She was the one in the worst position, with man’chi to her clan at issue. Pregnant to boot. And the whole thing having blown up into a Guild crisis, with little Ajuri clan wielding a hidden influence in that body—or having had influence; who knewwhat was going on within that body, or how much antihuman sentiment within that guild his own bodyguard was trying to shield him from either knowing—or meeting head-on, disastrouslyc

He had to talk to them. He had to find out.

“One can only apologize,” he said, “for having touched on matters I should not have touched upon, and for not sending your son back the moment it became clear—”

“Nothing was clear,” Tabini said shortly. “Even to me. And in point of fact, my sonwas, again, safe with you for a few days—or should have been. It shouldnot have involved his great-grandmother. It shouldnot have involved that fool Baiji. It shouldnot have involved what we began finding out here once my grandmother stirred the pot. Lady Damiri, about whom you have been too delicate to ask, has lately decided to set her own father, newly ascended to the lordship of Ajuri, somewhat at distance, which he is taking in high offense. In greatest confidence, I believe that there has been a loan of money from my wife to the Ajuri to cover a business failure that would have brought disgrace on the clan—a scandal that brought the untimely death of her uncle and the ascension of her father. My wife is quite distressed with the situation. Not for dissemination—she suspects another clan in the death of her uncle. She is protective of her son and of her child yet to be born. She is quite distressed with the recent risk to her son, she is put out with me, she is put out with you, andwith my grandmother on account of the affair on the West Coast, with her deceased uncle on account of his financial dealings, and now with her father’s demands for special favor. None of this has made her happy at all in recent days. I do not repent my decision to leave my son in your hands in the midst of all these goings-on. At least he did not have to participate in the efforts of keeping my wife’s dealings with Ajuri from my grandmother’s major d’, while we were living in her apartment—and one has no doubt that would have put the cap on the matter. My confidence in you is undimmed. If ever my son arrives unexpectedly at your door, receive him and immediately do as you did at Najida: inform me, but do not let him out of your sight for a moment.”

“Aiji-ma,” he said, dismayed. “My door will always receive him. And you will always know.”

“Your household is commendably peaceful and safe,” Tabini said. “One understands my son’s attraction to it. And we have equal confidence in the staff you are bringing down from the station.”

“One is gratified, aiji-ma.” There was one troublesome question. He greatly hesitated to say it. But the stakes were too high. “Among them is Lord Tatiseigi’s former cook, Bindanda. One hopes he will also pass scrutiny. He is a truly excellent cook. And he has been a pillar of my staff.”

Tabini gave a brief laugh. “We know Bindanda very well. He is an excellent cook. But, paidhi-ji, he is actually myspy.”

That was a thunderbolt. An absolute thunderbolt. “One is astonished, aiji-ma.”

“Oh, he reports now and again to Tatiseigi,” Tabini said. “But his reports come here first. And your bodyguard approves the transaction.”

He was utterly confounded. He said, somberly, “Then one is glad, aiji-ma, if he wishes to stay on my staff.”

“One believes he will do so. He is understandably an asset to your household. He improves your credit with Lord Tatiseigi. He keeps you safe from poisons. And we shall sort this matter of Ajuri out in good time. So go do the things you propose to do, paidhi-ji. We have every confidence in you—and so does my grandmother, or she would not have left you stranded without instructions. One is certain she wants you to deal with the situation and prepare the ground. One is certain she wishes you to find out my disposition, while she is not on the scene. So relay it carefully. We are officially not connected to this. But we are neighbors. Expect that my bodyguard will have talked to yours and that there will have been an interesting exchange of information, only half of which we shall ever know, from the Guild, one is quite certain, until the whole situation has become history. Go, go, now. I have a stack of committee reports awaiting me. Escape while you can.”

“Aiji-ma.” He rose and bowed, gathering up Banichi and Jago and making his retreat with a glance back as he passed the door. His last view of Tabini, past Jago’s shoulder, was of a grim and hard-working man, not as young and reckless as he had been on that decade-ago trip to Taiben, when both of them had broken the gun regulations.

But, then, neither of them was as young, or as naive about the politics of the aishidi’tat, as even Tabini had been on that day.

It was possibly the most intensely personal conversation he had ever had with Tabini, who was not a man patient of fools or obstacles—a man who, uncommon for atevi, had had one wife for most of a decade and who now found that relationship under intense pressure, through no fault of his or hers.

And whose heir had relatives who were developing very serious drawbacks.

But Tabini was intelligent. Very.

And Tabini had told him exactly as much of the truth as he needed to know to prevent another problem.

Handle Tatiseigi and don’t let him take a position. Don’t get Ajuri stirred up.

He’d gotten that clue, too.

Do everything he could possibly do to lay the table before Ilisidi got back. Nobody was going to pay half as much attention to what the paidhi-aiji did as they would to the aiji-dowager when she arrived, and things had to run smoothly at her beck and call. There werethings he could do, people he could talk to, impressions he could leave with people—things he could say that the dowager could readily deny if they turned out to be a mistake.

The relationship with Machigi—he still,after all that, hadn’t gotten a clear idea how Tabini read the man, and he had wanted Tabini’s opinion more than any other. If there was a man alive who would have an instinctive grasp of that young man’s thinking, it would be Tabini, who was quite as ruthless, quite as capable of turning on the instant and astonishing his court.

What had Tabini said about Machigi? He is no fool,and that was about allTabini had said, on the one thing he had most wanted to know from Tabini. And about Tatiseigi? It had amounted to Good luck with him. You’re going to need it.

They picked up Tano and Algini. He didn’t say a word to his bodyguard until they had gotten the short distance back to his apartment, they had shut the door, and he had surrendered his court coat to Koharu, checked the message bowl for anything from Tatiseigi—there was nothing—and put on his day coat.

“The security station would be a good place,” Banichi said, and without a word, he went with his bodyguard down the hall to the quiet back of the apartment, and the small instrument-crowded station where his bodyguard was the authoritycand the only ones who would hear.

“We did not know about the Ajuri difficulty, Bren-ji,” was the first thing Tano said to him.

“We did not know,” Banichi echoed that statement, “but certain things were worrisome.”

Bren sat down as they did, at one of the counters. Jago perched against the counter edge. Algini sat down, looking as grim as ever Algini could look, and looking not at him but into something invisible and not pleasant.

“What we do know,” Banichi said, “is that there had been misgiving about the youth of the aiji’s own bodyguard as well as their Taibeni-clan origin, which was used to justify the restriction of information flowing to them—temporarily, as it was supposed to be. The central authority argued that it was hard to sequence them into the information flow because they had minor connections to several unqualified individuals and several indiscretions that needed to be cleared up. Taibeni have been married into several northern clans that have been outside certain security situations.”

“This was the ongoing argument,” Tano said. “But when it became known that Cenedihad been restricted from information on grounds of his principal’s connection to Tabini-aiji,that shone a light into the situation, and it no longer looked like administrative process. It looked like partisanship and possibly worse.”

“It took three hours, nandi,” Algini said darkly, “for the former Guildmaster to come out of retirement and reconstitute his own bodyguard, also from their retirement. There were immediate arrests. The head of the Guild Council who was in charge of the Machigi affair is not believed to have connections to the renegades—quite the opposite, by appearances, this person having personal reasons against the Taisigi; but it seems neither extreme of bias is reliable, when one allows personal opinion to sway a vote. Guild seniors who had sworn that they had permanently stepped aside are now returning, almost to a man. The urging of some members that the Guild needed new leadership to deal with technological changes in the world, and the willingness of some seniors to step down with the Guildmaster, more than put a very biased viewpoint into office: it set a very dangerous precedent to interdict more moderate members from the information flow. And that realization, and the return of former officers, Bren-ji, thatwas the start of the shift that abruptly stopped the action against Machigi and that moved in force against the renegades, this shadow Guild, as you call it. There had already been unprecedented bloodletting within Guild premises when the coup was reversed. It has now happened twice, this time when the elder officers moved back in. Retirements have been almost universally reversed. In the background of all this turmoil, some time back, Ajuri clan had gained strong influence. But due to financial improprieties, the former Lord Ajuri, who had relatives newly elevated in power and influence within the Guild as reconstituted after Tabini-aiji’s return to power—and much preceding this current incident—had suffered in reputation and lost credit, in every sense. He had died. Lady Damiri lent her personal fortune to her father to cover the debts of her uncle, who was said—said—to have committed suicide. The officers at the head of the Guild continued from Tabini-aiji’s return until the day Tabini-aiji and the aiji-dowager found themselves dangerously underinformed on Guild matters, and they appealed for key officers to retake their power immediately. The investigation that followed, it now makes it seem that certain of the former Lord Ajuri’s papers are missingcwithin Guild offices. There is a strong suspicion that the money paid by the current Lord Ajuri, Damiri-daja’s father, was to prevent an unnamed clan bringing certain communications public. Blackmail, in other words.”

“May one ask—is there any indication which clan?”

“Nandi, the suspicion is—the Kadagidi.”

The clan alleged to be behind the coup, the murders of Tabini’s staff. The enemies of Lord Tatiseigi.

“Incredible.”

“Unfortunately,” Algini said, “credible. The Ajuri, like many smaller clans, took shelter. Their great strength was within Guild clericaladministration. When an upheaval came in the Guild—say that certain members of Ajuri clan were visiting the Kadagidi. One is not certain if Lady Damiri herself knows it. But she is due to find out, since the aiji is disposed to doubt her father’s leadership of Ajuri clan as he has always doubted her uncle’s. You will note, of resources the aiji used when in exile and being hunted by his enemies—the aiji did not appeal to Ajuri Clan. Nor did Damiri-daja ever breach security to do so, so far as we have learned.”

Tano said: “The returning officers of the Guild are dealing with some difficult judgments, nandi, whether certain persons who left and are now considered outlawed did so in good conscience, to resist illicit orders. Murini was essentially a figurehead, with a new Guild leadership guiding his hands. The culpable Guild that went south when the coup collapsed—the Ajuri that went south with them may have been guilty. Or they may only have feared partisanship. It is yet to be decided.”

“Certain ones went south,” Banichi said grimly, “but certain ones even more dangerous had covered their tracks with skill the Guild teaches—and the younger leadership of the Guild had already targeted the Marid lords for removalcwithout telling Tabini-aiji, without consulting senior Guild, without respect for the tradition that keeps the Guild from altering the political makeup or balance of the aishidi’tat. Thatadventurism is what we saw operating, Bren-ji—a great enthusiasm for far too much intervention without restraint. And very possibly with motives we are still unraveling.”

“If the Guild operation against Machigi had gone forward as the Guild leadership of that hour had intended,” Algini said, “the Guild would likely have created a separate administrative district—one Guild administration governing the Marid, where only the Guild would give orders. The information broke first, you may surmise, when Cenedi cracked the wall of secrecy—how he did that, best not to know. But that Guild operation is what the dowager moved instantly to prevent.”

“And she sent me to snatch Machigi back from the brink. The plan was to assassinate Machigi and then the others and rule the Marid from Tanaja, to take care of the Shadow Guild—do you think? To put the Guild itself at the top of the aishidi’tat?”

“We are still finding out,” Algini said. “Now you know far more of Guild affairs than you should, and we are all but Jago in violation of a general directive.”

“By all means, add me to it,” Jago said. “I refuse to be left out. At least, Bren-ji, we believe the Guild will now stabilize, if we do not have another upset or a revelation of more problem man’chiin. Very high officers are being eliminated. And Ajuri influence has gone from very high to ruin.”

“We are again operating clan by clan,” Banichi said, “a principle that ought not to have been abandoned by certain Shejidani units who made a critical decision to accept central leadership and directives above those of their clans, because certainclans persuaded them they were acting selflessly. Machigi’s bodyguard functioned excellently—they areregional, and they obeyed the old rules, defending their own lord, as they should, in every respect.”

“Unfortunately,” Algini said, “no place including the Bujavid will be as safe as we would wish, for perhaps several years to come, and those who have retaken power in the Guild are not young, nor was the retaking of power without bloodletting. We have a relatively limited time to mortar these arrangements back together before we start losing key elements.”

It was a grim report. One hardly knew what to say.

“Protecting you, Bren-ji,” Banichi said, “is of critical importance right now. You intend certain things that your enemies will wish to prevent. The renegade Guild—Shadow Guild is an apt name for them—is particularly anxious to see the cell phone bill pass. It would immensely aid their communications, since they are being worked out of the Guild network, and they still believe you are in favor of it, so they have not moved against you. Your opposition to that bill will upset them almost as much as your support of Lord Machigi, and it will surprise them far more.”

“You are one of five individuals,” Tano said, “that the Guild intends to protect at any cost.”

Tabini, Cajeiri, Ilisidi, Geigi. And him. He would have thought, until this morning, that Lady Damiri would certainly be on the list.

But perhaps no longer.

God, what a mess.

He would add two more to the Guild’s list: Machigi and Tatiseigi; but they might be in the second tier.

Granted that he was at all right about who was in the first five.

But he should not ask. If Tano had wanted to tell him, Tano would have. And if not Tano, Algini.

“One will not ask to know further,” Bren said, “and one will cease all levity regarding the detested vest, nadiin-ji. One will not wish to make your job harder.”

“One is gratified by that, Bren-ji,” Banichi said.

“One is, from this side, gratified to have this much information,” Bren said, “and one assures you of confidentiality, unless you signal me that you wish me to pass along certain things.”

“Leave that to the Guild itself, Bren-ji,” Algini said, “on Guild channels.”

“Will you need to leave us during this, Gini-ji?”

“No,” Algini said. “No, nandi. I shall not leave your service. I have made that clear in the Guild. But information to this household will never be deficient again, unless Tano and I go missing, and it will get to the aiji’s guard if wehave to deliver it. We have established our own checks to make a silence detectible in certain quarters. We shall know. And should a signal come, that there is an assault on that system—we shall inform you, you will inform Tabini-aiji, we shall track it, and we will act. Enough—before we rouse more questions.” Algini gave one of his rare gentle smiles. “One is beyond glad to stay in this aishid, Bren-ji. Fortunately your position on the target list makes that possible for us.”

“Then one is glad to be a target,” Bren said with a definite nod, and rose and left his bodyguard to discuss things they might not say in his hearing.

Tatisiegi was likely one topic of interest. He was sure his bodyguard would tell him if there were the least whisper of a response from Tatiseigi. But there still was apparently no answer, no query, no action. Yet. And one could only worry.

The old man could do several things with the porcelain. He could refuse the gift. He could refuse the meeting. One would think, in that event, the crate would turn up back at his door fairly expeditiously, with or without an explanatory note. Tatiseigi had not done that—so he had, at least temporarily, accepted it.

Tatiseigi might be, at this moment, meeting with his own associates and deciding what to do about the itemcand the paidihi-aiji.

His bodyguard might know that answer. But inquiring into that sort of knowledge was like lifting the lid on something cooking: the intervention might ruin what mighthave worked itself out, given time, given the passing of delicate, unofficial hints. There were things one should not know until it was time to know.

It might have been a thorough mistake, sending that gift. Now that the deed was done, he had no dearth of second thoughts, and more of them since he’d talked to Tabini. The old man simply detested humans, on a visceral level, never mind that they’d had to deal with one another, and there was no sign of that opinion shifting. That was a problem, not only dealing with Tatiseigi but in dealing with any of the conservatives. By the very nature of what they believed, they detested humans and never wanted to deal with one, or the effect humans had had on the world, and that was that.

But the world was the world, and there was no changing what had happened. They’d tried living side by side. They’d tried ignoring one another. Now—

Now they had to try living side by side again. Ultimately.

If Tatiseigi didn’t declare war on him. PossiblyIlisidi could get him out of it, if it went utterly bad. But Tabini had said it: he was in it, he had started something, and that was that.

He had a little lunch in his office. He answered a few letters between bites of sandwich and sips of tea.

He had had the meeting he had most dreaded. He did not yet have the one he wished for.

But he faced a much more pleasant one in the afternoon.

Far into the other wing, downstairs, was the paidhi’s office. It had started out as a quiet little office, answering schoolchildren’s questions about humans and the paidhi’s job, when the paidhi’s job had entailed explaining the aiji’s new technological programs.

Then it had fielded anguished queries from village lords wanting more industry and other district lords irate that they had a factory upwind of their gardens.

The space program had brought letters from the certifiably confused, who were convinced that the atmosphere could be punctured, letting all the air out, and it had also brought more thoughtful letters asking such things as, if herewas what there was everywhere, what was out there?

A good part of the paidhi’s job—the part that wasn’t translating for Tabini or representing his programs, or considering the social and economic effects of human technology proposed to be given out to the continent—was serving as an information office and trying to scotch rumors before they acquired passengers. Rumor management had become nearly a full-time job for part of his staff before the coup, and it had resumed it after Tabini had come back to office. They were good at what they did—the letter they could not answer reasonably and fairly convincingly in his name was a rare one.

Since the restoration of Tabini-aiji, too—that was to say, for the last half year—he had gotten a gratifying number of letters of support and also queries about jobs—

It at least balanced a new flood of angry accusations and death threats, persons who charged his influence had brought about the coup and misled the aiji. Those he took quite seriously—and likewise a scatter of less rational letters blaming him for all manner of ills, including the spread of radio waves through buildings.

He could have had recourse to the Guild for the threatening letters, considering that credible threats of bodily harm outside Guild action were in fact illegal. He had not reported most of them, as general policy. A few more serious and likely threats, yes, had been investigated, but so far as he knew, no investigation had yet turned up anything serious or organized; at least that was the case before he had gone off to the Marid and dealt with Machigi.

The regular complainants (and he had a list of those) were going to have an apoplexy when they heard about peacemaking with the Marid and about the Edi and Gan acquiring seats in the legislature. Death threats were going to come out of the woodwork. He could only think about Algini’s warning.

Years, Algini had said, of not knowing if the noisy ones were the problem. He personally bet on the ones who said nothing at all.

“Nand’ paidhi!” he heard whispered as he entered the office, and the head secretary, elderly Daisibi, one of Tano’s remote kin, came down the aisle between desks in all haste, with a happy expression on his face.

“Nandi! One is so happy to see you safe!”

“One is very pleased with the work from this office,” he answered, bowing in turn. “One is very grateful for your handling the inquiries—and one hopes to make your work a little easier, nadi-ji. Is there anything extraordinarily urgent since my return?”

“Nothing extraordinary, nandi. Of course the children write. People from the remote districts do ask about the cell phone issuec”

God. He could not have his office out of step with him on that.

“ca few direct threats, which we have referred to the Bujavid officesc”

That was normal.

“cforecasts of doom from certain ‘countersc”

Normal. The paidhi attracted lightning. The number-counters who worked up fortunes and predictions and declarations of felicity or infelicity for various believers tended not to give any innovation good numbers. In this case, he was going to agree with them.

“crecommendations for policyc”

Some would be sane, and many would not.

“cqueries about the aliensc”

People should be worried about that. But not panicked. The fact that there were aliens, and that there was more than one kind of them out there was known—but it didn’t sound as though it was generating any great fear. Yet.

“cand inquiries from Transport, Trade, and the Messengers, nandi, regarding the committee schedules with the next session.”

The latter were business. Entirely.

“I shall have to issue a new policy statement, nadi. For the phones, one has studied the cell phone issue. My opinion—and this is not yet for public issue—is increasingly negative on that matter.”

“Negative,nandi.” The old man absorbed that in some bemusement and nodded.

“Be warned, too: you will shortly be inundated by inquiries on west coast policy, as more and more of the recent action at Najida and Tanaja appears on the news, and I shall have a statement ready for you. Nadi-ji, this will be a difficult legislative session. First of all, there is a new Maschi lord. Lord Geigi will be your source on that matter—it is a quiet arrangement with Lord Geigi’s approval. Lord Machigi is about to be the aiji-dowager’s guest in the capital, and I shall be personally involved with that visit. You may be sure there will be prophecies of doom from more than the ’counters, I fear. Lord Machigi is expected here to sign an agreement with the aiji-dowager. And threats regarding that matter should be reported, to me, to the object of the threat, to the aiji, and to the Guild. Take them very seriously.”

The old man looked as if he had swallowed something unexpected. “Yes, nandi.”

“Peace with the Marid is a complex matter,” Bren said. “But in general, I shall be working toward that agreement. I shall be talking to various committees affected by it, among them those you have already named, so I shall immediately contact them today. We shall provide this office a detailed statement on the Marid matter and on the West Coast arrangements as soon as possible, but we cannot release anything ahead of my reports to the legislature, either on this peace proposal or on the cell phone issue.”

“One entirely understands that, nandi.”

“I have caused you great difficulties. Among them, I am facing the Merchants’ Guild, the Transport Guild, and the Messengers’ Guild, and I am arranging an exhibit of Marid art in the lower public hall, in advance of meetings with the corresponding Ministers and Committees. Trade will have early access to the exhibit.” He reached into his inside breast pocket and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “These, Sibi-ji, are the essential answers to questions that will arise. I wish to provide these in printed reports, for each Guild, legislative committee and Minister. The reports may be essentially identical in some items, but not in specifics of the interests of the parties. I need not tell you the sort of thing. Appropriate room arrangement is also essential. Accurate reports one must have, with photographs and examples, specific numbers. You have done admirably with each of these three concerns in past. Now you must outdo yourselves, because certain persons will be looking for infelicity.”

“These are our honor to manage, nandi!”

“One offers the most profound respect, Sibi-ji, and one has absolute confidence in your discretion. And if you will accept my suggestion, Sibi-ji, answer or refer only the most important inquiries today, send the staff home early to rest, and tomorrow, and for subsequent days, arrange for meals to be brought in, because staff must work overtime. You are, rest assured, absolutely indispensable, and when this is done, if I survive this next session, I shall personally send you and your staff and immediate families on a half-month paid leave. You and your staff will deserve it by then. You will have earned my profound gratitude.”

“Such an inducement is not necessary, nandi! You pay us very well!”

“Yet please accept it on their behalf. Mail may stand in stacks, but these things must be done, and you must stand ready to sleep and eat in this office for days on end until we have gotten through the worst of this, and you may have to deal with unpleasantness. My thanks. My respects to all,” he said, raising his voice, and making a little bow, as work stopped in the room. “You will be working on extended projects, nadiin-ji, starting tomorrow. Order food in, as much and from whatever source you wish. Director Daisibi will inform you of the details, and know that matters critical to the future of the aishidi’tat rest on your work. One values you all extremely, and when this is done, Director Daisibi will inform you, one has a compensation in mind that one hopes will ease the burden of these next days. One thanks you, most earnestly. You merit my trust, my confidence, and my deep gratitude, nadiin-ji. There will be cards, with my ribbon; with others if this goes well. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

He bowed. Everyone stood up solemnly and bowed twice.

It would not be the first time this office had gotten memorial cards, those prized items, which a family kept in special reverence for hundreds of years. But on these, the ribbons would be of every house he could possibly organize, and he would deliver the holiday he had promised—and a bonus atop it. They would amply earn it.

He made his exit, having left the clerical office preparing for a paper storm. And the news services knew they weren’t going to get anything until the paidhi was damned good and ready to release that information, but they would try.

Details. Every detail down to the flower arrangements in the Bujavid committee rooms.

“Back to the stairs, nadiin-ji,” he said to his bodyguard. They had used a back way getting down here, past the third floor, and they used the same route on the way up—enough stairs for a workout, but one more route the news services could not access—

Back up to the privacy and security of the hall he shared with Tabini-aiji.

And news of a different kind.

“Bren-ji,” Banichi said as they were halfway down the hall to their own door, “a message from Lord Tatiseigi.”

“The nature of it, Nichi-ji?” Damn, so much rested on that.

“Sealed, Bren-ji. Haru reports it arrived just moments ago.”

He didn’t quicken his step. It wasn’t that far. “One hopes,” he said simply, and let Algini go ahead of him to open the door.

It was unbecoming to snatch up the message-bowl and immediately rifle through the messages; a lord’s life was centered around discipline. Patience. The forms. Koharu waited in the foyer to bow, to welcome him, and to take his coat. One smiled, one handed over one’s coat, officially heard that there was a message from Tatiseigi and another missive from Trade.

“One will read the message from Tatiseigi,” he said. One shouldgo to one’s office and have Koharu bring the messages there, possibly with a pot of tea, but he was, admittedly, on pins and needles to hear it, and the forms could bend for once, considering he wanted his whole household staff to know what was going on. Koharu proffered a green enameled cylinder decorated with white lilies, and within, sealed with the lily seal of the Atageini, was a letter in a beautiful old-fashioned hand.

“Tatiseigi Lord of the Atageini to Bren Lord of Najidac”

Interesting choice of titlesc nothis highest rank, and verging on damned snobbish discourtesy.

“One appreciates the sentiment of the exquisite gift, and one would be delighted to receive you tomorrow at morning tea.”

Receive him.

Tomorrow.

And not at lunch, but at a casual tea.

Well, it was aristocratic snobbery from one of the oldest clans extant. It was a calculated slap. And it left it up to him whether to accept it in the interest of achieving his goals, or to reject it and gain the leverage of being offended. Give the old man credit, he did notmake errors of protocol, and Madam Saidin must have winced—tastefully, silently, but winced at the rebuff.

But was he surprised?

His bodyguard and his major domo stood waiting while he scowled at the message.

“Lord Tatiseigi,” he said equably, “has sent an invitation to morning tea.”

“Will you decline it, nandi?” Koharu asked. Even a country lad from Najida could parse that situation.

Oh, he couldeasily decline it—lie, claim prior engagement, and pointedly invite Tatiseigi to supper tomorrow evening. Breakfasts were for intimatescwhich God knew they weren’t. The old man might have taken some offense at a luncheon invitation instead of a formal supper—and—God! the social dance got weirder. Tatiseigi above all people knew he had no head cook. He did have one, in orbit—and Bindanda was indeed coming.

But Bindanda having been Tatiseigi’s former cook, who had defected from Tatiseigi’s service, for various reasons—the old man would be interested in his arrival. When Bindanda finally got here, he would beyond any doubt elect to serve the paidhi-aiji and notgo back to Tatiseigi, which was Bindanda’s choice to makecup to a point.

And this morning Tabini had told him Bindanda didn’t belong to either of them, but to himc

One needed aspirin. Several.

And best hold the first and conciliatory meeting before the Bindanda situation truly hit the fan. He hadn’t even thought of the fuss over Bindanda entering the picture. He’d just presumed on the status between him and Tatiseigi at their lastinteraction. He’d tried to save the old man a serving of Najida country fare that was far too spicy for the old man’s taste, and he could hardly operate like Cajeiri and invite himselfto Tatiseigi’s dinner table.

But one didn’tdecline a luncheon and then offer a tea. That was pure Tatiseigi pique, with nothing left to the imagination.

If he wanted to play the social game, then the exchange of elegantly written invitations, each triggering another, could go on for days, until Bindanda was on the planet and on duty. Then the social politics would assuredly get crazier, which was exactly what he didn’t want.

Well, he’d clearly taken a step too far too fast with the old man, and Tatiseigi had come back at him with a mild slap in the face, as if he were still some junior court official.

Which he probably was, somewhere in Tatiseigi’s thinking—the old man could drag up arguments from fifty years ago as passionately as if they were current.

Damn, damn, and damn.

Tatiseigi’s attachment to the aiji-dowager on this issue was a must. He played politics like a master, he wielded a unifying influence on the otherwise fragmented and eccentric conservative side, he was mad about the cell phone issue, he was probably mostly mad at Ilisidi, who had run off to Malguri on her own agenda, instead of conferring with him. And he was mad because he wanted the world rolled back several hundred years, before telephones, television, computers, and humans falling out of the heavens.

No. The paidhi-aiji had started this, naively assuming Tatiseigi’s curiosity would overwhelm his temper, and while things hadn’t gone as badly as they could, they were not going that well. He was going to have to see it through himself without calling in reinforcements. And he was going to have to fix it before Ilisidi had to deal with it.

He went to his office and wrote, humbly:

Bren-paidhi Lord of Najida to Tatiseigi Lord of the Ata geini,

One is delighted and honored to accept your invitation to morning tea.

And he sohoped Tatiseigi might spend an hour wondering if he had somehow erred and given the paidhi-aiji exactly what he wanted.

7

It was pleasant to see Madam Saidin again, and the apartment staff which now served Lord Tatiseigi. Only a few weeks ago the paidhi had lived here. He had known every curlicue of the baroque furnishings, enjoyed the fine cuisine, and adopted the old-fashioned manners of the household with a professional curiosity.

Now the paidhi-aiji was a midmorning guest in Lord Tatiseigi’s premises, very primly received but with a gratifying warmth on the part of the staff which had lately served him.

Lord Tatiseigi’s feelings were another matter.

“One is very pleased to receive you, nandi,” Saidin had said, including Banichi and Jago in the pronoun, and with a wave of her hand had indicated the path to the hall, and the sitting room, and Lord Tatiseigi’s hospitality.

The porcelain was prominently displayed in a place of honor, in the center of the small, stout table behind the couch. It echoed very well the muted greens of the room, grayed blue-greens with blue-green and gold accents, seaweed supporting a spiral explosion of colorful fishes and sea life.

Bren had the seat Saidin indicated for him, with his back to the door, and Banichi and Jago took their stations at the top of the room. The opposite chair was, of course, Tatiseigi’s, who predictibly showed up just a shade late—requiring a guest to rise, bow, and settle again, facing the old man and his two bodyguards on the far side of the room.

And of course there was the slow service of tea, in all its elaboration—tea in a very familiar middle-grade tea service.

But was there an initial comment on the porcelain? No. One heard Tatiseigi’s observations on the weather—the paidhi, having no windows in his suite, had only the remotest idea what the weather was outside, and the old man was surely not ignorant of that fact.

They came down to the second pot of tea still without a single mention of the porcelain, which strongly indicated it was not considered a nonbusiness topic.

Conversation finally reached, midway through that pot, and after the teacakes: “And how do you fare, nand’ paidhi?”

“Oh, well recovered, nandi, and very glad not to be traveling. One hopes to find you well.”

“Quite well,” Tatiseigi said with a gracious nod. “And your staff?”

“Well, nandi. And your staff, nandi? One hopes they are all in good health?”

It ran like that, over the various polite topics, ranging from, “And how are things at Najida?” and “One hopes, nandi, that Tirnamardi has finished its repairsc” to which the prickliest, chilly answer was:

“The hedges, unfortunately, will take decades.”

“Yet it was damage taken in a brave actionc” For which,he was about to say, one is everlastingly grateful,intending a smooth segue on to the gift and the porcelains, and thence, perhaps, to the splendor of Tatisegi’s collection and his discrimination, to entice the old man into a better mood.

“A brave action that has in no wise eliminated the fools who challenge the aishidi’tat and from which we apparently have not yet learned!” Click went the teacup onto the side table. “Nand’ paidhi, one is greatly distressed— greatlydistressed!—to arrive in Shejidan to find my grandnephew led into yet another untoward adventure out on the coast, and then led into an entirely unfortunate meeting with Edi savages!”

Damn.

“The risk to your grandnephew, nandi, was both unanticipated by highest-level security inquiry and extreme; but he acquitted himself well in every circumstance. As for the Edi—”

“Folly! A disgrace to be talking to those persons!”

“Your grandnephew quite charmed the Grandmother of the Edi and ably assisted the aiji-dowager, with impeccable manners. One would never argue with your concern for him, nandi. But he conducted himself extremely well. Your teaching, one is certain, is apparent in him.”

“You took him among traitors! Your Edi staff did notadvise you of difficulty at Kajiminda and almost cost my boy his life, a fact it is no good to conceal from me, nand’ paidhi! I am well aware of their recalcitrance, their underhandedness, their sneaking cowardice!”

“Alas, my staff feared they had touched upon a cover for a Guild operation, nandi. They at no time breached their man’chi to me, and once they understood the situation, they comported themselves bravely in the dowager’s service and mine.”

“And are they due a lordship for finally doing their minimal duty? Having a lord of the Edi is a ridiculous concept! They are not civilized!They are criminals. Pirates!”

Well, that argument pushed him to a point at which he had to plant his feet and object, which was clearly the old man’s intent.

“They have lived under a Maschi lordship that betrayed them, nandi, and they have remained on the side of the aishidi’tat with yet no direct agreement with the aishidi’tat. Every dealing was going through Baiji, now disgraced and deposed from office—yet they rallied to support the aishidi’tat through the Troubles, supporting my staff at Najida—”

“By piracy, which is their natural bent!”

“By subterfuge and direct attacks that prevented Murini from having any access to the southwest coast, nandi! They in effect defended my estate and the whole district. When the aiji-dowager—” The old man was Ilisidi’s lifelong supporter. And lover. “—asked their support, despite their recent ill-treatment by a misbehaving upstart of a lord, they gave it to her. They have signed preliminary agreements. They are now staunch allies of the aiji-dowager, they will become signatory to the aishidi’tat, and they have already come no few steps down that path, renouncing piracy and agreeing to pursue any future quarrels only through the Guild. One places one’s word and one’s reputation on this being the truth.”

“Then you are in for a great deal of trouble, paidhi, because they are liars and brigands!”

“Yet the aiji-dowager devised this settlement.”

“Ha! She has been wrong before, and she is wrong this time!”

“Yet as participant in this agreement, I must argue her case, nandi, and urge that her far-sighted actions have a purpose: to put unprecedented power into the hands of your grandnephew in his day. The world has never seen the power that your grandnephew will one day wield.”

That drew the twitch of one isolated muscle above Tatiseigi’s left brow. “Relying on barbarians and the Marid? It will never work!”

“The Edi and the Gan peoples are ruled by the seniormost women; and the aiji-dowager by her gender and rank carries a special credit with them that no male representative of the aishidi’tat has ever carried into dealings. More, your grandnephew, nandi, has questioned, and listened, and spoken to them; the Edi regard him as a living promise of the traditionalways that he has learned at the dowager’s knee and yours. They are greatly impressed by what you, nandi, would recognize as yourinfluence.”

That brought a moment of silence. Then “There are otherelements in his upbringing,” Tatiseigi muttered, and one had no doubt Tatiseigi meant human elements, and did not in the least approve.

“From human associations he has gained a certain flexibil-ty of approach, nandi, perhaps; but can you doubt what traditional values he has gained from the dowager’s teaching and his early residency at Tirnamardi? The Edi themselves have the same worries about the old values, the old traditions—”

“Traditions? Traditions of banditry!”

“The Edi andthe Taisigi andthe traditionalists of the aishidi’tat all have this in common: that human ways have trodden too heavily on those values that they believe must be preserved —and I agree, nandi! They will see youas a very important and respectable force in the legislature, and in the future politics of the aishidi’tat, you may find them allies in your battle against the headlong modernists. Time has rushed too fast. Even Ihave become your ally in this, against the proposal to widen the gates further and admit too much technology before atevi themselves have found their own answers. This is the truth: outside the eastern Padi Valley, there are few more traditional places on earth than the Marid, the Edi lands, and the Gan.”

“Tell me no such things when you advocate ruinous measures that will utterly overthrow civilization!”

“If this remotely refers to the question of cell phones, nandi, I now openly and unreservedly admit you are right.”

The old man’s mouth stuck half-open. He blinked.

“One is quite in earnest, Lord of the Atageini, and since the paidhi-aiji is about to run counter to the desires of the aiji himself, and to those of the progressives on this matter, one hopes for your staunch support in this.”

“You claim you are now opposedto the bill!”

“You are right, nandi. You are absolutely right in your arguments. If the bill passes, my office still enables me to veto it. I shall. Lord Geigi concurs: This is the right thing to do.”

“Lord Geigi!”

“Likewise,” he said carefully and emphatically, “will the new lordships of the Gan and of the Edi, if they have gained seats before the vote, and so will the entire Marid bloc—which is already seated in the legislature—”

“That scoundrel Machigi—”

“—will be voting with you, with the Gan, and the Edi, and Lord Geigi. As shall I, as lord of Najida. If I must, should it somehow pass, I swear to you I shall wield my veto, which I have not done in many, many years; and I have already informed Tabini-aiji I am now opposed. In the recent violence in the southwest, I saw what might have resulted had cell phones been available, and I have come to agree with you utterly, nandi.”

“Tea, nadiin!”

That broke the discussion off in favor of yet another round of tea, and there was, for a time, no more conversation while Lord Tatiseigi contemplated the situation. Lord Tatiseigi sat with fingers steepled and didn’t even look at him until tea was served and the servants offered more teacakes.

Bren declined the latter. So did Tatiseigi. They drank in deep and meaningful silence. And at the end of just one cup, Tatiseigi set it down.

“Machigi,” Tatiseigi said, “will use any lull in hostilities to arm the Marid with any finance and any weapons he can get his hands on. After the recent wars, there are plenty of those lying about.”

“He might have that intention, one is fully aware. But the aiji-dowager plans to keep him busy—and constantly observed. This is one reason the aiji-dowager has offered him association. The Guild is bringing him under Guild protection, and the dowager plans to keep him and his resources so entirely concentrated on the project she will share with him that he will have no time nor energy for other adventurescuntil he can see clearly that the project will pay off; and war will not. She has it admirably mapped out, nandi. I am amazed at her brilliance.”

“This is her idea, is it?”

“None of mine, nandi, one assures you. Machigi will live to rule. He will offer Guild protection to his subordinate lords and they will live to rule the other districts under his direction. The legitimate Guild will gain the leverage in the Marid it has always lacked, and in the process, the Guild will root out every last vestige of the renegades who have established themselves there, while protecting Lord Machigi’s authority. More, the aiji-dowager is strongly urging any new lord of the Edi and the Gan to acquire their own Guild protection—which will have exactly the same effect on theirdistricts. The institution of Guild centered around those three powers, Machigi, the Edi, and the Gan, will completely change the culture of feud and warfare that has characterized the two districts and their relationship to the rest of the aishidi’tat. There is, one believes, brilliant simplicity in this plan, nandi, and the guilds are the key. If the Assassins’ Guildis the channel through which feud and warfare have to move, and if theyregain the traditional rules, which they have always maintained, there has to be recourse to the Guild and to Tabini-aiji should anybody wish to come to blows. By and large, they will be far too busy building, which will engage the politics of other guilds, who will have their own interests at risk in any conflict, so they will negotiate rather than fight. Once they have built a prosperous trade, once prosperity has come to the general population—they will find themselves in quite the same situation as the rest of us. They will have fragile goods, systems, and relationships to protect. They will have incomes to protect. They will have an entirely different set of considerationsc”

“And rivalries, nandi. They will have rivalries and a tradition of armed conflict.”

“Rivalries that the aforesaid guilds will moderate. Forcibly if need be, but by denial of benefits which will push politics into motion, nandi, and stopwars, as against the interest of this and that entity.”

“This is a dream.”

“It is the aiji-dowager’s dream, nandi, and one suspects you may have heard pieces of it long before she ever brought it into operation. I know that she has been passionate about this from far back, and I believe it has, in this precise moment, found its best opportunity. She is doing more in the East than see to the marriage of Lord Geigi’s misbehaving nephew. She will be talking to numerous of her associates and allies; hence the unforecast delay in her return. One is quite certain that she would not have left so many unresolved questions in my hands if she had had a choice, and it is with the greatest trepidation, nandi, that I have approached you in her stead—hoping to bring you current with everything, because you are so very necessary to her hopes and plans. Therefore, before undertaking any such approach, one felt obliged to satisfy the debt to your hospitality, a debt in which I feel very strongly at disadvantage. It moved me to begin by showing you, even before I bring a similar piece before the Merchants’ Guild, an example of the best of the Marid and to make it yours, in small token of my indebtedness. The work is inspired by the great pillars that stand in the Residency of Tanaja, and I hope I have not offended you in such a gift. It comes from me, not at all from Lord Machigi. I was insistent on that point. And it comes only of my gratitude for your hospitality, no more, no less.”

Oh, that was laying it on. Tatiseigi shot him a straight-on look from under his brows and said, with an increasing level of interest: “Most thoughtful. Your level of taste is quite unexpectedly high, nand’ paidhi.”

And another layer of modesty. “It comes from the hand of an artist respected in Tanaja. I hoped it would suit.”

“It is extraordinary,” Tatiseigi said, for the first time allowing passion to creep into his voice. “It is quite extraordinary. If it is truly from you, and not from that scoundrel Machigi, one may accept it.”

“It is assuredly from me, nandi, as a personal gift that I was happy to make.”

“Ha. Well.” The old man gave a little bow in place and looked as happy as ever one could remember him. “Then one is pleased to accept such a sentiment. My collection at Tirnamardi boasts an item of blue glaze. Do you know what that means?”

“That such an item is a great treasure, nandi, and very, very old.”

“It is only a single cup, but priceless, from the Saie Period.”

Thank God for a little reading—it was before the Great Wave.

“One is astonished. My meager knowledge does tell me it is a true museum piece.”

“It was a time of better relations,” Tatiseigi said. “The artist was Diadin. A signed piece. We understand there are but three in existence.”

It was an hour before he could manage an escape. Lord Tatiseigi had found an audience. And the old man’s expertise was impressive.

“Nandi,” Bren said in parting, “one has so enjoyed this meeting—and the discussion with someone of your breadth of knowledge. I shall certainly look at the Bujavid collection with a more discerning eye, now, and since the very first items in trade that are proposed under the agreement are porcelains and artworks, there can be no better advisor to whom I may refer, if you will be so kind. There is another piece, which Machigi himself ordered from the same artist, for a gift to the aiji and the people of the aishidi’tat, which will be on exhibition in the lower hall. This one I chose for you shows no difference in quality that my untutored eye can discern. The other will be on limited exhibit at first, but one would be veryinterested to hear your expert assessment of it, and therefore of Machigi’s seriousness in paying a courtesy to Tabini-aiji. If you would possibly find time to view it, one would be glad to have your expert opinion. I confess I chose this one for its beautiful greens, which I intended to honor the Atageini colors.”

“The piece will have a place of honor,” Tatiseigi said. “And I shallperhaps find time to stroll downstairs.”

It had actually gone very well, in all points. Lord Tatiseigi had found an appreciative audience and (which Tatiseigi might regret once he recalled it) had for the first time conversed with him as if he were a social equal, even an intimate.

To top all, Tatiseigi let himself be drafted as the resident porcelain expert. Which he truly was, along with Lord Geigi.

And when the business got to the Merchants’ Guild, there was no better nor more impressive expert than Tatiseigi to bring before that committee.

He didn’t dare comment to his bodyguard beyond the fact that he was happy. It seemed apt to jinx a run of good luck.

Rumors dictated the rest of the day—rumors that came shooting up to the message-bowl via the downstairs office, rumors that had to be gotten ahead of and answered or, in some cases, accommodated with an appointment. The head of the Transport Guild had heard rumors of new rail lines, and the Merchants’ Guild was even more wrought up, having heard rumors of a Marid factor opening an office on the East Coast and—greater shock—about to open one in Shejidan.

Hehadn’t said anything on that score. It was coming from elsewhere, possibly from the Marid, possibly from the Marid via the Guild.

But before he could even ask—“Lord Machigi has named his representative, Bren-ji,” Jago informed him, dropping by the door of his office. “And the Guild has in mind a safe and appropriate lodging for the mission.”

The Guild was handling it. Of course they were.

Which was a great relief, despite the surety that the Guild was shoving politics again. Finding anylodgings within easy distance of the Bujavid, considering the legislature going into session, was a miracle in itself. The hotel would be filling up. Every lodging to let was let far in advance. And the several hotels slightly farther away would be filling.

“The lady,” Jago said, “will be arriving by train, amply escorted and picking up new staff in Shejidan, besides her personal staff from Tanaja.”

A woman. He had not envisioned that.

“Do we know anything about this choice, Jago-ji?”

“Her name is Siodi, of the Jaimedi clan. Her rank is Lady. She is a remote cousin of Lord Machigi, a lady of some standing in Tanaja and in Dausigi. She has represented Lord Machigi frequently in matters with Dausigi and Sungeni clans, mostly involving commerce and shipping. She lost a younger brother to the renegades early on and has been living either in the Isles or in the Residence for the last two years, for safety. In the estimation of Machigi’s guard, the lady was at least marginally in danger, principally as a way to deal psychological damage to Machigi, and did not exit close guard until early this year, when she undertook a mission to the Sungeni.”

“Qualified, then,” he said with some relief. “We shall hope to put the Merchants’ Guild immediately in touch with her; I shall write a letter. Likewise to Transport.” A deep breath. “Echo it to the aiji’s bodyguard. And to Tatisiegi’s.”

“It will leak,” Jago said, “in Tatiseigi’s instance.”

“But it will leak in beneficial places, with the perfume of Lord Tatiseigi’s house about the rumor. Advise the aiji’s staff it is intentional.”

Jago laughed quietly. “Be it so,” she said, and went off to create a small security breach.

He went back to work, writing the policy statement he had promised his staff, and declined Supani’s offer of tea. After meetings going right through lunch, he was awash in tea and had eaten too many teacakes to be at all interested in the sandwich their earnest young cook provided.

Tano came in to report the shuttle had left the station.

“Indeed!” That was good news. And was worth a little caution. “Are there any surprises aboard?”

“None,” Jago said. “Are we expecting anything else?”

“No,” he said with some confidence. “But one should advise staff Narani is coming. They will not wish to be caught with anything in disarray. Not to mention our young cook. He will want to have that kitchen immaculate. Would you care for a sandwich, Tano-ji? That one is superfluous, but one hesitates to offend our young lad.”

Tano gave a gentle laugh and took it up.

“Another report,” Tano said, “says that the dowager has now returned to Malguri from the wedding in Drien-daja’s villa.”

“She cannot return here too soon,” Bren said. “Is there word how matters there have gone with the wedding?”

“None specific and no information forecasting her return.”

“We can expect Lord Geigi at least to come to the capital once he hears the shuttle is on its way down. But I am very concerned about security for him. His bodyguard is no longer as well linked in as they might be. I am concerned about Lord Tatiseigi’s view of it, but I would feel easier if he would make use of my guest room.”

“We have advised his staff,” Tano said, “and we are in discussion on that point.”

Through Guild channels, that was. It was being managed, one trusted, in some way that would not rouse Tatiseigi’s jealousy or damage the uneasy truce between those two.

The sandwich went away with Tano, discreetly, and the paidhi-aiji got down to writing letters, with a sure timetable now for having his full staff. His hard-working crew was due a little rest. And more staff meant a chance for that.

But he had no timetable yet for having Ilisidi at hand to manage Tatiseigi andGeigi.

It was the porcelain, the imagination of benefits, and all the other arguments, that so far stood a chance of keeping Tatiseigi on their side of the political balance.

8

Cajeiri was bored. Bored. Bored. And one sowished one could think of another reason to visit nand’ Bren, or visit anyoneoutside the apartment walls today. Cajeiri even thought of asking Uncle Tatiseigi for an invitation.

No windows. No harbor. There was no garden in the Bujavid that hecould go to—despite his aishid’s discouragement, he did officially ask his father for permission to visit the little one he had heard lay off the Kitchen Court.

No, was the answer. He could not go outside. The garden was too public, access too general. He could not go there.

“Might I go to the library, then, honored Father? Just to the library. One promises, to no other place.”

“No, son of mine. You can send to the library, and the library will send up whatever you want.”

“How shall I know what I want? I cannot see the books!”

“They will send you a selection of titles on any topic. Or a list. You might have a list of all the books in the library, if you ask.”

He sighed, deeply, and looked at the floor, just disgusted. Nobody was letting him have any freedom.

“Things are unsettled,” his father said. “Until business this session is settled, son, things will remain uneasy. There will be no few measures put forward in the legislature provocative of action from unstable persons, not to mention there may be enemies lurking about that the Guild may not have laid hands on.”

“How long,” he ventured to ask, “do you think it will take for it to be safe, honored Father? To the end of the session?”

His father started to answer him and then sighed and said, “One believes you know, son of mine, that there is no easy answer to that. So cease asking like a child. One knows you are wiser than that. It will take as long as it takes.”

He was only eight. But nearly nine. He was notwiser than that, inside, where being locked up without windows made him want to break things.

But, honored Father! he would have cried, even a few months ago.

And of course that would have gotten him nothing but his father’s ill regard.

He had learned a lot in the sole company of grownups, especially in Najida. He had learned that busy people tended to have unusually bad tempers and that one never gained anything by pushing them until that temper surfaced. He had come on his father in the midst of writing letters, probably letters to people who annoyed him, or letters that were going to make people unhappy.

He also learned not to think over and over on things he could not fix. The fact that a baby that lay in a crib and cared nothing about windows was going to have the only view in the apartment made him mad. But he could not fix that. If he ordered his sitting room wall knocked down, all he would have was a view of the Bujavid hallway—which might be interesting, but it would upset Security. There was no question of that.

So he calmed his temper and sat there looking at his father, without a sigh or a protest, until his father grew annoyed with the silence and suspicious. It was exactly what mani did. She had the best tricks of anyone he knew, and those tricks very often worked extremely well on his father.

“How are your lessons, son of mine?” his father asked, then—it was always the topic when his father had run out of topics. “One has had no complaints yet from this tutor. Or, what is more remarkable, abouthim.”

“He wished to teach me about the East, honored Father. But he has never been there. I told him I have. So he said he would make a list of questions and find out what I know. But if he tells me anything I do not think is right, I think it would be prudent of me to ask mani if that is true.”

His father frowned, maybe just a little annoyed. “Possibly you should ask meif your tutor tells you any fact you think deserves further question.”

“One will do so, then, honored Father.”

“Go,” his father said peevishly.

“Honored Father.” He stood up, bowed, and left, going back to his suite.

He had made himself a project. He had his sketchbook, and he had his little office, in which he sat and worked on his drawings and maps of Najida—he thought them rather good, and his aishid, all of whom were very good observers, could tell him details he had never noticed but that he remembered when they mentioned them.

He had something to do while he was shut in, the way he had learned what he had to do when he was cut off from his associates from the ship and when no one would let him go back to space. He was making his records. He would notforget the ship. He would not forget his associates aboard it. He would not forget the space station, little as he had gotten to see it.

And now he resolved not to forget the way Najida was. Nand’ Bren was changing it, adding another wing, and that would be very fine. But he wanted to remember it just the way it had been when he had arrived there. And then when he did get to visit again, he would compare things and make new sketches. He saved everything. He had a drawer in his office bureau exclusively for his sketches. And he had another for his maps, and the great map on the wall showed him the whole world. Except for Mospheira. He wanted a map of Mospheira, but he had not gotten one yet. And he wanted a map of the north pole and the south. And maps of the major isles. He wanted all of it. He had seen the world from space. And it was not just lines on paper. It had clouds. It turned. The moon had mountains. Mountains so high that they would have snow if they were on the earth. There was so much, so very much, that most people never even thought about. People had windows and never even looked out them. Of all things in the world he could not understand, he could not understand that.

His tutor came to meet him in his parents’ sitting room, bringing his list of questions about the East. He answered, and his tutor would check him about a detail, and check him on a detail within the detail, and on very boring things about the neighbors. He knew everything so well he quickly had his tutor nodding thoughtfully and saying he must have heard certain things from his great-grandmother.

“Nadi, one spent two years on the starship, and mani had nothing at all to do except to instruct us every day. One has learned genealogies, man’chi, ancestral obligation, protocols, history, geography, geology, animals, plants, herbs, and the traditions of the East. Also one has been instructed in security procedures and tactics by very high-up Guild. One has also recently learned the history, the geology, and the traditions of the West Coast, including the Edi people; and also of the middle lands. One was instructed by Lord Tatiseigi and by my great-grandmother in proper deportment, penmanship, and courteous address. The ship-aijiin instructed me in the history of the ship and in astronomy, besides emergency procedures in space. One has the acquaintance of the Astronomer Emeritus. One has heard about the ocean and navigation and ocean fishes from nand’ Toby of Port Jackson, and one has been on Mospheira, and one has flown twice in the space shuttle. One understands and writes ship-speak and one understands and writes Mosphei’, which is very little different. We have met aliens, and we can speak to them in their language, and nand’ Bren has explained their protocols so far as anybody in the world knows what they think.” He drew breath. He had worked himself into a temper, which he settled, because he had had far worse tutors. “And I have had an infelicitousnumber of tutors, one after the other, who have insisted on boringlessons about laws and protocols and writing letters. One understands that writing letters is important, nadi, but is there not somethingnew that will be more useful?”

“Perhaps,” Dasi-nadi said, looking a little taken aback, “you should tell me in the greatest possible detail what you do know, young gentleman, and how and from whom you learned it, just as you have. Start at the beginning.”

That was at least a new approach. “At the verybeginning?”

“One would be most interested to understand the things you do know, young gentleman. One would never ask that you mention anything classified, but one would be interested, and it is very possible you shall teach me things I do not myself know. You surely have had an uncommon background. I shall ask you questions, but they will only be for clarification, not as a challenge to your accuracy.”

He was astonished. Suspicious. “Where shall I start?”

“As early as you wish. You were born in the Bujavid.”

He nodded, jaw still set. “One does not rememberthat, nadi.”

“What isyour first memory, young gentleman?”

He thought. “The big stairway in Uncle Tatiseigi’s house.” A pause. Tutors pounced on such inexactitudes and carried on for an hour. “He is my great-uncle, but one has always called him uncle, the way I call my great-grandmother mani.”

“One certainly understands. One would do the same, in all courtesy. And your second memory, nandi?”

“The mechieta pen. The stables. I remember something earlier, but it was about the foyer with the lilies and uncle telling me not to go to the stables. And I was bored, so I did anyway. I was not a very obedient nephew. I watched. I climbed up on the fence to see—I was very short, then—and there was a mechieta waiting there, all saddled. And it looked so easy—he was very near the fence. I climbed on. He broke his rein and broke the gate latch and went right across uncle’s new driveway. It was new concrete. And they had to wash the mechieta’s feet and they had to break up the concrete that had set and pour new, because it was a mess.” He ought to be sorry about it, he was sure, but he really never had been. It had been exciting, and he was proud of himself for having stayed on.

Except that mani had been inconvenienced. That was never good.

“So what do you know about concrete?”

“It gets warm when it sets,” he said. And it takes days to do it.”

“Interesting,” Dasi-nadi said. “Do you know why it gets warm?”

“No, nadi. One has no idea.”

Dasi-nadi told him, and sketched on his slate, and it was interesting but short. So they went on, and he talked about coming back to the Bujavid and meeting his parents and not really remembering them. And the first time he remembered nand’ Bren.

And he talked about the big hall of the Bujavid and the paintings.

“Do you know which paintings are always in the hall?” Dasi-nadi asked him. “Four change, but three are always there. Which three?”

He had no idea. So he learned something else, very quick and actually interesting, that he could be smug about if anyone asked him.

And he learned a third thing. That he was not bored. He could bend the lesson any direction he wanted to go, and if there was an answer he knew, he could give it, and if he had no idea, Dasi, who seemed very smart, could tell him.

“You were notboring, nadi,” he said with a little bow when they were done. “You teach like nand’ Bren. You may come back!”

“One is flattered, young gentleman,” Dasi-nadi said, smiling. “One is quite flattered.”

It really was the first time he had ever enjoyeda tutor’s lessons. He enjoyed it so much he asked himself whether it really had been a lesson, or whether Dasi-nadi was just trying to get the better of him. He had almost been tempted to tell Dasi how much he liked maps.

But he had stopped short of that, because whatever true thing one told somebody else, that person could use it for power, and would, and he trusted nobody who came into the apartment trying to teach him things. He had had far too many experiences and fartoo many people trying to threaten him into good behavior. Those were easy to spot, and he knew immediately how to get them in trouble. The ones that came in trying to win him over because they wanted to get his favor in the future or his father’s favor now—those were a little harder to spot, because they were good at being polite.

And he really, truly hoped Dasi-nadi was not one of those. He would be truly disappointed if he were.

But he was not going to say a thing about maps for a long, long while, and if Dasi-nadi turned out to be one of those people just after his father’s approval—

Well, it was just going to be harder to figure out, and he was going to be very mad if Dasi-nadi was trying to trick him.

He would never, ever forgive it, in fact.

The thought put him in a glum mood within five steps down the hallway toward his own apartment, and he was feeling entirely glum by the time he walked through his own doorway.

Glum, upset about the new baby having hismother and having all the windows. He was glum about not having a beautiful bay and a boat just down the hill, because he had no boat, Shejidan had no bay. Downhill from the Bujavid there was just a hotel and a lot of businesses all crowding close about the Bujavid and his father in hopes of getting rich.

Damn, he said to himself, and felt as if he had sunk into one of those black holes nand’ Bren had told him about, where everything flowed in, and nothing, not even light, could ever get out. That was the Bujavid, so far as he was concerned.

He had slammed the hall door as he came in—not too hard, not to have his father’s security come knocking at the door and wondering what the thump was. As it was, they could guess, knowing his tutor had just left.

Jegari was in the sitting room. So was Lucasi, both of them at the table with books and papers. Antaro and Jegari had their own lessons to do, Guild lessons, about regulations, and guns, and procedures, and so on. Algini had promised to teach Antaro demolitions when they had gotten through some course work at the Guild. Antaro in particular said she really wanted to learn, and Jegari had said it was a good thing that both of them have that training, to protect somebody who would someday be aiji of the aishidi’tat. So it was possible Antaro was off somewhere about that.

But it was curious Veijico was the one gone, too, when he came back from his lessons.

Very curious. Jegari and Lucasi were clearly busy, however, pens going.

He was just about to ask Jegari and Lucasi where their partners had gone when he heard footsteps in the hall, from the servants’ hall side. The secret knock sounded, and he opened the door himself. There were the missing pair, Veijico in her heavier uniform jacket and Antaro in an outdoor dress coat.

That was odd. They had definitely come in from the service passages; staff could come and go from the next floor if they used the service passages and went through security there. Nobody would stop them. And particularly nobody would question security staff—even wearing outdoor coats.

“Nadiin-ji,” he said with a polite little nod as they came in.

“The shuttle left the station an hour ago, nandi.”

“Good,” he said. He was always interested in the comings and goings of the shuttle. Even if his father would not let him go watch it. But that did not explain why they were dressed for the outdoors or coming in from the servants’ level. “Did you go out to learn that?”

They grinned, both of them. Widely. “You are properly observant, young gentleman,” Veijico said.

“One should expect so,” he said, sure they were up to some mischief, and was intrigued to see Antaro unbutton her coat, which seemed rather uncommonly snug. And there—

There, in a red leather harness and with a coiled-up strap, was a long-limbed little creature all over with black hair, with a pursed little mouth. It stared at him with big gold eyes.

It blinked, looking just waked-up and a little scared.

That was weirder than it staring. It blinked like a person. It was spooky, it doing that. It looked to be thinking.

Its little hands took a firm grip on the lapels of Veijico’s leather coat. It looked the other direction, then buried its face under her coat, still holding on.

That was even spookier. And somehow very sad.

“It will bite, nandi,” Antaro said, “if it thinks you will harm it.”

“Is it what you expected, nandi?” Veijico asked. “We can still take it back if you wish.”

The parid’ja smelled just slightly. But not badly. And it looked so small and so scared.

“One wishes to hold it.”

Veijico took the creature in both hands and gently pulled him away from its grip on her coat. She handed it to him, keeping the strap in her hand, and immediately the creature grabbed Cajeiri’s arm with tiny fingers and leaped up closer to his body, clinging in the same way to the lapels of one of his better coats and butting its head against his shoulder, trying to get inside his coat.

That felt weird. Its little hands were quite strong for its size. He could feel it breathing. Very gingerly he stroked the fur on its back, below the harness.

“One would suggest the cage soon, nandi,” Lucasi said, “so that he can—”

The creature unwound suddenly and made a flying leap for the nearby chair. Antaro neatly intercepted the jump with her arm, strap still in hand, and it shrieked, went upside down for a moment, then climbed up and clung to her arm as Lucasi quietly opened the brass cage.

Antaro carefully unclipped the strap from the harness, with the creature inside the doorway, and it leaped for the crossbars inside the cage. It made a fast clicking sound and settled there and blinked at them.

From her pocket Antaro produced a small egg and offered it. It darted forward to the cage door, snatched the egg in amazingly capable fingers and darted back to its perch, where it clutched its prize under its chin with both hands and looked at them all with quick bright eyes.

It was astonishing. It was amazing it was not gears and motors. It was alive.It was thinking,and it looked back at them and clicked at them, in defiant possession of the egg, which perhaps it thought was not safe to eat yet. Or perhaps it was just too upset at the moment.

“It will need water,” Jegari said.

“And a sandbox,” Lucasi said.

“We have procured the sandbox,” Antaro said. “Two packages are being sent up from freight, on an urgent basis. The address says to notify us, nandi, and one hopes senior Guild will respect that, since we have somewhat abused the Guild seal throughout this operation. One package has a sandbox and sand, dishes, brushes, all the things it may need, and the other is a packet of fresh eggs and fruit, nothing that needs refrigeration.”

“One should be fairly quick with the sand, one suspects,” Jegari said under his breath.

Meanwhile, fascinating sight, the creature stuck one long fingernail into the egg top and made a hole, which it carefully widened. Then it shifted the egg to hold it in two hands as a young child might hold a teacup. Its purplish tongue flicked into the egg and lapped the yellow contents up quite neatly.

It was very neat. It licked up all the egg it could, then dropped the very clean eggshell onto the floor of the cage and leaped to the other bench.

“Its name is Boji,” Cajeiri decided, and when everyone looked at him oddly: “Boji was one of the mechieti my great-uncle had. Besides, it reminds me of Baiji, who deserves to have a silly creature named after him.”

“Indeed,” Lucasi said.

“Must he always be in the cage?” Cajeiri asked.

“Or on his lead,” Veijico said, “until he is very much tamer. They can become quite tame. He will sit on your shoulder or on your arm, and he will reach man’chi, once he trusts you. But let him rest a little, nandi. He was very upset on the train and especially in the lift. One believes the noises frightened him. A dish of water and a little quiet would be good for his stomach right now.”

“Water,” Cajeiri said, and Jegari immediately left the premises, presumably to take care of that. They had kept all the goings-on very quiet, because there was a strategy in the plan, that nobody else should know about Boji until he had been on the premises for a few days, and then one could prove that Boji was not any disturbance at all, that he did not smell, he did not scare the servants, and that they could take care of him perfectly well without disturbing anybody.

So he settled to watch Boji, just to watch him, determined to keep such an exciting creature and plotting how he could keep Boji’s presence as quiet as possible—while Boji settled to watch him, with what thoughts on the other side of the cage wall one could hardly guess.

It was very strange how much and how immediately he liked having Boji there. They had been fortunate five, he and his aishid, and he supposed in a way there was now an infelicitous sixth, but Boji should hardly count in the class of persons.

And besides, his mother and father were hardly superstitious, or they would hardly have had another baby. Two was an infelicity, and four was no better, so either they had to plan another baby soon—that was a horrible thought!—or they had to be a family of four forever, or, counting their aishidi, twenty, which still not that good a number.

But the baby would hardly have a bodyguard right off, would it? They would be sixteen for years. Two eights. Four fours. Eight infelicitous twos.

His mind wandered off to thinking about the baby. And once he brought his mind back from its diversion, it informed him it was notan unrelated worry, because his mother had gotten more and more touchy and particular the closer she was to having the baby. She had the servants running all over getting this and getting that and making things just so.

And if anything went wrong, his mother was the likeliest to object to Boji, as she had started objecting to everything lately that might inconvenience the baby.

He could claim that he had gotten Boji because of the numbers—because seventeen was a lotbetter than sixteen. That was the thing to say to anyone having a silly argument about something. One just found good or bad numbers, as suited, and argued. It was what the old men did.

And Boji andthe baby certainly made the nonadults in the household not-two. Which was a good thing.

So, then, he decided he would say he had felt unlucky about the household numbers with the baby, so he had gotten Boji to make the numbers better.

He liked that. It fit. It would make his mother think he was learning traditional thinking, and he was supposed to do that.

So now he was happy, and even ’counters had to be. Happy, that was.

That was brilliant. It stood a fair chance of working. Or at least of diverting the argument.

Now—if he could just keep his mother from finding out Boji even existed—

First off, he had taken his precaution and gotten just two servants, Eisi and Lieidi, assigned to attend his suite, and once they introduced Eisi and Lieidi to Boji and explained the situation—they would hardly betray him at this point, would they? They would understand that this was a surprise, that eventually the whole household would know, but they would not betray a surprise, would he? Not if they wanted his future good will.

He imagined a triumphant show, with Boji all tame and proper, sitting on his arm and maybe doing tricks, as he had heard his kind could—fetching things from a shelf, or bringing one a pen or a book from the desk. He would demonstrate to his father and mother how very mannerly Boji was, and his mother would be charmed, and meanwhile hewould have something to do in his rooms besides lessons.

Boji bounded across the cage and shrieked. Thatwas a little worrisome. He went to distract Boji and quiet him. He had notthought about Boji making noise. That was a problem.

That was a bigproblem.

The door opened. He held his breath. But it was just Jegari coming back. Jegari had brought a covered dish of water from the kitchen, just a plain little white baking dish of the sort that could disappear from the kitchen stores with nobody objecting.

“Here,” Jegari said, handing the water dish to him. “I shall open the cage. You can put the water in. Just be careful he does not get past you. Antaro can hold the harness while you work, through the grille.”

It took a little arranging, but Antaro reached in and caught the harness,. Cajeiri carefully bent down and put the water dish down.

“Now we can take the harness off,” Jegari said. “He should think about his training when he has it on, but he will only do it mischief if we leave it on. Besides, it will chafe his skin.

That took another bit of careful maneuvering, which Jegari and Antaro managed, getting the harness unbuckled and then letting Boji loose in the cage.

Boji was happier then and bounded this way and that, from perch to perch, ignoring the water dish.

Antaro flipped little hammerlike stops on the bottom and the top of the door.

Antaro said, “Always do that, nandi, because he may be clever enough to get his fingers through and open the main latch. That is why the area behind the latch has a much denser pattern in the brass, so he cannot do that, but my grandmother had one that could open almost anything.”

“One hopes he minds his manners!” Cajeiri said fervently, and then was amazed to see Boji hop down, dip both little hands in the water dish and drink just like a person.

Fascinating. And very spooky.

Then Boji leaped back up to the perch and then to the wall nearest him, clung to the brass flowers of the filigree and looked at him through the holes with first one eye and then another, as if correctly realizing now who he belonged to.

They said parid’ji could find man’chi to the person that owned them.

Atevi could. Mecheiti could, in their own way. He had never wondered about other animals, except cats and dogs and monkeys, which were as absent from the world as dinosaurs.

He had sowanted a cat or a dog. Or a dinosaur. Just a little one.

But Boji was going to be so good and so much fun. And if Boji decided to settle man’chi toward him, it was going to be very, very good, and so impressive for everyone he knew.

Boji was more fun than any baby. That was sure.

Once mani got back, he could visit her apartment and be under her rules when he was there, which he liked far better than his father’s rules. Well—but—

If he stayed overnight at mani’s apartment, once she came back, somebody had to keep Boji. And he could not tell the staff about Boji yet. And he still had no idea what he was going to do about the servants.

He would have to leave half his bodyguard to stay in his apartment, and then he would have to lie, and then his bodyguard would, and it would just be damned difficultc

Orche could take Boji to see mani. Mani might be amused by Boji. She had strongly protected all sorts of wild creatures on Malguri land, and she had been very fierce about telling lords they should not declare any wild creature to be vermin, which had prompted no few arguments with her neighbors and, on several occasions, shooting.

She would definitely think Boji was interesting. Boji’s kind lived on the western side of the mountains, and she might never have seen one close up. She mightbe his ally in keeping Boji. If she got back before his mother and father found out he was here.

He just sat, watching Boji clean his fur, plotting how to get allies on the matter of Boji.

And the shuttle was coming down. He would get to see Narani, and Asicho, who had used to treat him very specially. They were both coming back to nand’ Bren’s service. Bindanda was coming, too. Bindanda had used to make him special desserts. He could almost taste them.

And his tutor was not boring, which was a great surprise.

Suddenly everything in the world was going as right as it could go.

Well, except for the baby coming.

9

Letters and committee meetings.

Committee meetings, and more committee meetings, and a reasonable forecast of arguments and squabbles between regions that had to be headed off once the details of the Machigi alliance became public. Jealousies existed between clans within regions, and between provinces and regions, where it came to prerogatives and agreements with the government in Shejidan. Philosophical disputes existed between the modernists and the traditionalists and the Rational Determinists, a philosophical quagmire that the paidhi-aiji didn’t remotely wish to navigate. When it came to philosophy, one could let Geigi, a Rational Determinist, use his influence, from a safe remove at Kajiminda to make headway on that front. Let Tatiseigi, a staunch traditionalist, have at the rest of his associates in Shejidan, in favorof the paidhi-aiji’s position. Therewas a novelty.

The whisper was getting out regarding the new proposals for the disposition of the coast and the tribal Gan and Edi. Rumors were also getting out about the treaty settling the Marid and about the paidhi-aiji’s position on cell phones.

Three issues. One could not have shouted fire in the halls of the Bujavid and stirred up any more passionate reaction than that combination of news. There were increasing rustlings of alarm from every political entity in the aishidi’tat.

Jago reported that Tabini was getting questions, too. Tabini was letting supporters of the cell phone issue down by stages, saying that the matter was complex and under renewed study, not quite mentioning yet, for the benefit of those opposed to cell phones, the possibility of some device still more technical in the offing.

And the irony of it all was that, for all the furor the agreement between Ilisidi and Machigi was causing, there was no point at which the various clans, districts, industries, associations, organizations, and philosophical groups—could actually get to vote on whether or not there would be an association between Malguri and the Taisigin Marid. An association was purely—and traditionally—a matter between or among the participants, and it was, to a certain extent—nobody else’s business until it was signed.

Thenthe implementation was going to rattle every door in the aishidi’tat.

Atevi politics at its finest.

The aiji-dowager sent word she was winging her way here—or was about to. The time was flexible. The shuttle was comingcthat took time, but gravity was notflexible. And Machigi’s representative would be coming in; the train would be on a commercial schedule, not being a special.

As for Ilisidi’s timing, it was a toss-up as to whether it was news about the shuttle, news about the representative, a personal letter from Tatiseigi, or the fear that Lord Geigi would be coming in to have a potential encounter with Tatiseigi that had gotten the dowager moving—but moving she was, possibly to fling herself between her two rivalrous associates.

Adding to the stir, the porcelain exhibit had just opened its doors to the Merchant’s Guild, as a “gift from the lord of the Marid,” and the word had now gone from the paidhi’s office to the Merchant’s Guild that this exhibit represented an opportunity for a trade that had not been available for a very long time. The first merchants to set up agreements in Tanaja naturally stood to profit most, and to get their hands on a currently limited number of itemscoh, they understood that part very well.

That bid fair to start a feeding frenzy, and the feeding frenzy was almost certain to cross party lines and to upset just about every vested interest who couldn’t see a way to profit.

The Marid representative, too, was going to get a great deal of attention once she arrived—dangerous attention, in some quarters. And the Guild knew it.

Bren sent, by means of the Guild, a welcoming message for the representative when she arrived, along with a bouquet of suitable and auspicious flowers of the season, and a card marking the occasion.

One understands you have had a long trip and may wish to rest,he said in the letter, so one hesitates to call in the midst of your arrival. My office and my personal staff stand ready to assist or to answer any questions, and please have your staff contact mine without hesitation if there is regard way in which I personally can assist you.

The paidhi-aiji wishes you the most felicitous of beginnings here in Shejidan.

That handled the question of the representative with a certain grace. Holding the rank he did, he was hardly obliged to run down to the hotel district to attend the mere representative of another lord while she unpacked, but he had made gestures of welcome, offered help, and invited contact through channels readily available to the lady should she have the energy left to want a meeting tonight.

Looming over the schedule was the face-to-face meeting with the Merchants’ Guild Council, all of whom were supposed to have been invited to view the porcelain exhibit downstairs today.

That meant the reports had to be ready, not only for that Guild, but for Transport, for the Messengers, and for the Assassins—the last as a courtesy, the first as intimately involved in the arrangements the dowager planned to make.

Daisibi and his staff had their work cut out for them.

The flower arrangement on the committee room conference table suggested calm and felicity as well as prosperity—that touch, arranged by Daisibi, was always good with the merchants. It was a low arrangement, appropriate for such a gathering. Bren, far shorter than the rest, could still see the faces above it.

And the Guildmaster of the Merchants, a lean, thoughtful man whose name was Marchien, sat at the broad end of the table, flanked by his own chief officers.

Bren, paidhi-aiji, and, in this meeting, the representative of the aiji-dowager, sat at the other alone—in what convention called a mirrored arrangement. Higher members of the Guild sat toward Marchien, and lower officers of the Guild sat next to Bren. It was a big table, the largest conference room in the Bujavid, with microphones inconspicuously set at each place.

There were the opening courtesies. Then came the initial statement, not from Marchien, but from the Junior Guildmaster at Marchien’s right.

“We have seen the exhibit downstairs, nand’ paidhi. We take it this arrival from the Marid, in light of other events, represents somewhat more than a gesture of good will. But are we to take this level of artistry as an earnest of the sort of trade they intend, since your letter suggests the whole porcelain industry as a starting point, nandi? Such craftsmanship and costliness hardly seems an article of common trade, which could be economically meaningful. And this of course supposes that this agreement with the Marid goes forward.”

“Here is the proposal,” Bren said soberly, and signaled Banichi and Jago, who signaled Tano, who signaled the staffer with the cart in the service passage, and in rolled stacks of booklets, three reports for each member of the committeecthank God for the assistance of the clerical staff, who had pulled together historic reference and maps, import and export figures, listings of exporters and trade offices, plus photographs of the Eastern harbors, to go with the maps. There was a volume of history of trade with the Marid going back to the Great Wave and figures on Marid commerce and economy since, with the history of the five clans, plus information on the Marid porcelain industry and the suppliers of raw materials within the aishidi’tat. There was the economic history of the current trade within the Marid, plus photos of typical types, with annual sales figures.

Thank Godfor the clerical staff.

And give the Merchants’ Guild one thing. Like the Assassins’ Guild, the Merchants’ Guild was quite refreshingly easy in the singularity of its purpose.

And they were, in that light, also among the most honest of the guilds: It was very hard to get it to play any politics that ran contrary to that central purpose, since it was dedicated to profit, and its membership was passionately averse to losing money or losing opportunities to make money. Since they thrived best in peace—weaponry fell under another guild—they tended to prefer that condition, another fact in their favor.

There was quickly a proposal on the table to bring in the curator of the Bujavid collections to educate the Guild membership on the worth and technicalities of Marid porcelains compared to those of other regions.

“One may also suggest,” Bren said innocently, “the assistance of the lord of the Atageini, who is himself a renowned expert in the collectors’ market and knowledgeable in the value of collectors’ items, in the higher end of this trade. One is certain he would be a great resource.”

The Guild took notes.

And requested several samples of ordinary commercial craftwork, declaring they would seek expert opinions on that.

There was animated discussion of the opening of the Marid factor’s office and the arrival of the Marid representative in Shejidan—and there was strong interest in the establishment a Merchants’ Guild office down in Tanaja. There followed a motion to bring in the Transport Guild to discuss rail options for increased traffic between Tanaja and Shejidan and one to bring in the Assassins’ Guild to discuss security both in Tanaja, for the proposed office, and in the Marid north, considering the prospect of moving shipments from the Taisigin Marid through the Senjin Marid.

When the Merchants’ Guild moved, it moved on many fronts at once, efficiently and boldly, in areas of endeavor it was confident it knew. And it moved fast, with uncommonly little debate.

The meeting went rather well, in Bren’s estimation.

The Treasurers’ Guild, which was to say the bankers and accountants, had meanwhile, and simultaneously, held its own meeting and invited the paidhi to the summation of the session, again the upper echelon of a Guild with a well-defined objective and a set of simple and predictable requirements. They had heard the business afoot in the Merchants’ Guild pretty well as it transpired, having had a representative present for the presentation, who had kept sending notes by runner to the Treasurers’ Guild, and they wanted an office in Tanaja too.

But, even more ambitious than the Merchants, they were particularly interested in the rumored opening of new Eastern ports, a topic the Merchants had not yet raised in more than a passing mention, pending more concrete recommendation from the Treasurers. Several independent banks in that Guild intended to consult with the Merchants’ Guild to talk about an expansion into the East, where a different currency had prevailed from antiquitycand thatwas going to have its own complications, not to mention howls of outrage if western currency started to circulate in the East.

That issue had to be dealt with diplomatically—a note to oneself to urge the Treasurers to come up with a special currency or means of exchange to get value between the East, the Marid, and the main part of the aishidi’tat. The Marid was likely to deal in anything that worked, but there was serious opposition in Shejidan to any fragmentation of the currency, as they called it.

Not to mention—and one had rather notmention, if one could avoid it, but it was inevitable—the side issue that was under discussion in the Treasurers’ Guild: an audit and accounting for the long-tangled affairs in Sarini Province, since it had been determined that Baiji, in his tenure at Kajiminda, had been involved in numerous off-the-books transactions, which needed to be brought ontothe books, involving, potentially, most of the west coast.

The Treasurers took a by-the-book attitude toward any assistance rendered the Edi people in the construction of a new governmental center: they wanted a public record of source and amounts—and such things tended to come back and haunt the donors if there was a tight vote in the legislature and any question of bribery or collusions of an illegal nature. Some exchange of gifts was routine, but it was understood to be a gesture. Extravagance could mean adverse publicity.

That audit was a looming headache that he and Lord Geigi were going to share, not to mention the new lord of the Maschi at Targai, and if Lord Geigi headed back to the space station for somewhat more critical matters there, it was going to be the paidhi-aiji helping the new lord of the Maschi explain it all. There wereno financial records in the Kajiminda affair that they had been able to find, beyond the stash of Baiji’s notes and correspondence, which the scoundrel had probably kept as potential blackmail of his managers—the depth of Baiji’s naïveté and stupidity had not yet been plumbed—and, yes, the paidhi-aiji andLord Geigi would be perfectly happy to provide copies to the Treasurer’s Guild, so long as the investigations did not run counter to the aiji’s current dealings and negotiations with the Taisigin Marid, the Dausigi, and the Sungeni.

If the Treasurers’ Guild wanted to find problems in the accounts of the other two clans in the Marid, they must present those findings directly to Tabini-aiji, and the findings would ultimately be brought onto the books.

But there would be no investigation of the Taisigi and their allies reaching back into a diplomatically sensitive past. That situation, damn it, came under a general amnesty, and he now realized he had to ask for a signed document from Tabini to make that clear before some accountant waded in and tried to raise issues that were covered by the amnesty. Sometimes amnesty had to mean amnesty, or they ended up refighting useless battles, and things went to hell on skids. The Marid had seen two hundred years of almost-progress periodically ended by publicity at the wrong momentca fact that he had tried delicately to point out to the Treasurers’ Guild.

One definitely wanted a stiff brandy and a day to rest after thatmeeting.

The Messengers’ Guild, the guild most notoriously corruptible from antiquity upward, wanted the Assassins’ Guild to protect its crews in repairing and maintaining its phone lines in the more troubled districts of the Marid, and, oh, it was veryinterested in the paidhi’s opinion on the cell phone bill. The rumor that the paidhi had changed his vote on the bill having begun to spread like wildfire, it drew mixed reactions from the Messengers—with, Bren thought, perhaps an automatic suspicion that, from loudly opposing the bill, perhaps they should now vote forit, since they always had opposed the paidhi’s programs.

One hardly gave an effective damn. He would meet with them, he would be courteous, he would bear with innuendo, and he expected nothing useful out of them to the dowager’s plans, only that they would do what the aiji flatly ordered them to do; and if he could not make that happen, he bet on the dowager getting it the traditional way with that guild—by bribing someone high up.

The Assassins’ guild—well, no outsider but the aiji himself directly met with that guild, except in the person of one’s bodyguard.

But word came, nonetheless, unofficially, that that Guild was not displeased with the paidhi’s change of mind on the phone bill.

“Gini-ji,” Bren said to Algini, who had told him so, “one would be very pleased to think so.” And, on an afterthought, dubiously: “ Shouldone be pleased to think so?”

Algini was quietly amused. “One does not see my guild’s opinion as divergent from your own, Bren-ji.”

To what extent and to what purpose, Algini did not divulge, but since Algini had stepped a little wide of regulations to answer that question, he didn’t press the point. One could at least believe that if the Guild were acting contrary to Tabini’s interests, Jago would whisper a warning in his ear at night or Banichi would have a quiet talk with Algini and get some serious understandings about warnings that should pass to Tabini’s bodyguard. He felt safe, in that regard.

Meanwhile the Guild, by Banichi’s report, owned or somehow maintained an address where it meant guard the Marid representative around the clock. It would shadow her constantly—of course for her protection—and one could bet the Guild would install bugs in every conceivable location in the lady’s apartment and offices. Secrecy about the bugs was likely a superfluous effort, since the Marid representative would be a thorough fool not to wantto be monitored around the clock, for her own safety and for the success of the mission. Even a discreet and tentative Taisigi presence in Shejidan at the moment would draw out the usual flurry of lunatics and eccentrics, from people wishing to blow up the premises to people convinced they had to talk to the representative for one reason or another, usually involving a numerical interpretation and a sense of quasidivine mission in the matter.

The Guild was going to find the lady an interesting assignment. Thank God the responsibility did not fall on the paidhi-aiji.

But the paidhi had, Bren congratulated himself, done damned well thus far, getting Tatiseigi into a decent mood and having none of the guilds he’d approached express complete opposition to the proceedings between the aiji-dowager and Lord Machigi.

Ilisidi had—thank God—reported Baiji wedded and presumably bedded. Lord Geigi, who had not attended his nephew’s wedding, had meanwhile been very busy about Sarini Province affairs. He had gotten ink on the line in the agreement between his clan and the Edi regarding the exchange of land, and, via a paper Bren had signed before he had left, he had promised the assistance of both Kajiminda and Najida estates in the construction of the Edi settlement. The new center for the Edi would stand on a portion of Lord Geigi’s peninsula c little that Lord Geigi had ever used that sea-girt forested area. It was adjacent to the Edi holdings on Najida peninsula, and the combination would give them a tiny province of their own.