Read Protector Page 10


  He looked up at his map, wondering what he could do about Grandfather.

  Fortunately, just to the west of the Northern Association, there was Dur, head of the North Coastal Association, and young Dur was his ally, and there was no way Dur was ever going to swing over to his crazy grandfather.

  And the Gan people would be with Dur, because Dur was backing them for membership in the aishidi’tat; and that meant they would be on his side, because the Edi were on his side, too, backed by nand’ Bren, and the Gan sided with the Edi. And if Najida and Kajiminda and the Edi were his allies, and the new proxy lord of Sarini went along as Lord Geigi would want him to, that meant the whole South Coastal Association was his. Not even to mention Lord Geigi himself, who ran half the space station, and Jase-aiji, who was one of the ship-captains.

  So if Grandfather thought the Northern Association would be all behind Ajuri, the way he was acting, he was going to get a nasty surprise. Dur had some influence, too.

  And he had. He took a look at his map, took up two red pins, and stuck them over at the other end of the continent, across the Divide and just beyond Great-grandmother’s estate at Malguri,

  Calrunaidi. The Calrunaidi girl, his cousin, had been nice. Her father was well disposed. They both were allied to Great-grandmother, and now Calrunaidi was allied to Lord Geigi because of his nephew.

  So he had just had a few pins go yellow.

  He put new red ones in, at the other end of the world.

  One lost a few. And gained others. He knew how this game worked.

  Even if he was still just infelicitous eight.

  6

  The oldest engine in regular service pulled up to the platform and small office, puffing steam—luck of the draw, last night, when it had been sequestered and prepared for its run, but it was fast, and it often pulled this particular set of cars.

  There was not much to see at the train station, beyond the simplest of sidings, a line of blue-green trees, and, if one knew what one was looking at, a long runway that stretched out of sight behind the little transport office. The main buildings, a little outpost of the space program, were far in the distance.

  A large, sleek bus was waiting, and a conveyor truck stood at the platform, ready to whisk people and baggage through a hidden gate to the spaceport itself, which operated in high security, behind fences and sensor-systems. It happened to be the oldest shuttle in the fleet that was waiting for Geigi, too, over that gentle roll of the land, but it was oldest only by months: that was how hard they had pushed, in the earliest days of the space program. It had been two weeks on the ground undergoing the sort of servicing the ground facility did best. And within hours, it would be winging its way across the ocean on a long ascent, up to where the blue of atmosphere gave way to the black of space.

  The station’s modern world started here, with that bus, the conveyor truck. From this point on, Geigi would be too busy with procedures to be socially engaged. So it was prearranged that the paidhi-aiji was to go no farther than the doorway of the train car and that Geigi would immediately board the bus, no lingering about outside, and little to see, in this vast flat grassland.

  “Well, well,” Geigi said, heaving himself to his feet, “one can only thank you, Bren-ji, for all you have done, from a very difficult beginning.”

  “For you, Geigi-ji, my neighbor, an honor. Come back soon.”

  “Nandi.” They bowed properly to each other, and moved toward the door, and their parting. Geigi’s staff was already shifting personal luggage out very efficiently, gently tossing things down, and Tano and Algini went outside to supervise the baggage car’s more extensive offloading. Baggage from that car entered the hands of Transportation Guild and Assassins’ Guild waiting outside, agents who worked the port.

  From here, everything Geigi brought had a series of procedures and inspections to go through, not so much for mischief—although it was always a concern—as to discover those small thoughtless items like pressurized bottles which might need special containment or outright exclusion.

  “I shall visit,” Geigi promised him in leaving. “I shall assuredly visit next year. And I shall give your regards to your on-station staff.”

  “I owe a visit up there, before long,” Bren said, thinking of that place, those faithful people. “But as yet I have no date I can plan on. They know the circumstance. Assure them they are in my thoughts. And take care. Take very great care of yourself, Geigi-ji. Good fortune.”

  “Baji-naji. Let fortune favor us both, nandi, and new ventures delight us.”

  With which Geigi stepped off the train to the platform and Bren went back to his seat at the rear of the car, beyond the galley, with all the baggage suddenly gone, all the car emptied of noise and laughter. He felt a little at loose ends for the moment, a little between, and not knowing how to pick up his routine life—but with a huge sigh for a complex business handled.

  Came finally a definitive thump. The baggage door had shut, in the next car. Tano and Algini came back aboard, and their own door shut with a louder thump. Banichi stood by that door, talking to someone absent, likely port security, or the driver of the bus. Jago walked back to the rear of the car where Bren sat, and leaned back against the galley counter.

  The train slowly began to roll again.

  “Sit down, nadi-ji,” Bren said to her, and in a voice to carry over the sound of the train: “Everyone sit down. We are on our own again. Rest. Take refreshment. You have certainly deserved it. This has been a long several weeks.”

  Jago sat down. The rest of his aishid came back down the aisle, collected soft drinks from under the counter, uncapped bottles and sank down on the bench seats nearest—Banichi handed Jago a bottle, and got his own before he settled with a sigh.

  His four, his irreplaceable four. It was a relief, as the train gathered speed, to be at last in their company, solo, and to be going home with no crisis ahead of them.

  “Our package made it aboard,” he said. It was a question.

  “It did, Bren-ji,” Tano said.

  “Excellent.” He was a little smug about that item. He had slipped a sizeable and very well-padded case into Geigi’s luggage, one that, under instruction to Geigi’s servants and bodyguard, would not come to Geigi’s attention until Geigi got all the way back to the station. It involved a budding relationship with a really fine porcelain maker in Tanaja, one Copada, whose card he had included with the piece. The artist had expressed the piece up to Shejidan two days ago. Geigi’s own collection was all at Kajiminda, less a few pieces sold off by his fool of a nephew. But one fine piece would now grace Geigi’s station apartment.

  They settled for the trip.

  But then Algini drew papers from inside his jacket and gave them to him without a word, very flimsy stuff, very closely written.

  Jago had said a report would be forthcoming—about the content of the meeting in Tabini’s back rooms. Bren turned on a reading light and paid that report his full attention, while his aishid had their refreshment and waited, all watching him, he was quite aware.

  It said, for a header:

  Because of the sensitive situation within the aiji’s household and the fact that his aishid is involved, please consider this car insecure for the purposes of this report: we should not discuss these things aloud.

  Then: There is reason to consider normally acceptable persons potentially compromised, not by their intention, but by their secondary associations.

  Certain individuals, including Tabini-aiji, Lord Dur and his son, Lord Haidiri, Lord Calrunaidi, Baiji late of Kajiminda, and Lord Tatiseigi are all under special protection of Guild known to us, and assigned by the aiji’s seal, at the request of the dowager’s guard, without Guild approval.

  Security for Cajeiri is being upgraded as far as immediately practical. The two young Taibeni are being licensed to carry sidearms and to use signaling and tracking syst
ems. Their licenses were being held up, two tests ordered retaken. The aiji himself has ordered them home without the tests, with the equipment. The Guild Council reluctantly issued the licenses without the tests retaken. We do not find this hesitation justified. These young people have seen more action than most licensed Guild of their age.

  What went on inside the Guild was information usually restricted. Tightly restricted, as a matter of policy.

  Security for you, for the aiji-dowager, and for Tatiseigi and the new lord of the Maschi is being tightened, and we are going over the latter two with particular care. We suspect there may be moves to infiltrate, possibly to get information, possibly to do physical harm.

  The following matter was generally discussed between us, the dowager’s aishid, the aiji’s, Lord Geigi’s, and very frankly with Lord Tatiseigi’s guard, who have been cautioned not to speak of the matter even among themselves.

  Lord Tatiseigi’s aishid reports that Tatiseigi is revising his own position toward several clans due to the fall from favor of the Ajuri. Tatiseigi’s long feud with Taibeni clan has become detrimental to his security, and he is repositioning himself—cautiously so, because many of his conservative allies have strongly opposed the aiji’s close relationship with the Taibeni and his choosing low-ranking Taibeni bodyguards for himself and his son. This is a delicate matter and Tabini-aiji is asking the lord of Taiben to accept Tatiseigi’s offer without comment or reservation.

  We all concur that Lord Ajuri’s breach with the aiji forces Tatiseigi himself to move closer to the aiji’s position regarding the composition of the aiji’s bodyguard. Tatiseigi is therefore committing to the aiji, and leaving safe political territory, his massive influence among the conservatives. Tatiseigi requires support in this, and conspicuous political successes and high favors are being given him in order to maintain his political importance. His physical safety at this time is critical.

  That explained certain things. Definitely. Tatiseigi was taking a position that was going to upset the conservatives. And strong signals were going out that the conservatives might get significant concessions from Tabini if they backed off their fuss about Tabini’s relationship with the liberal-leaning Taibeni clan. Ajuri had been a conservative clan, once close to Tatiseigi, then distanced, and now completely beyond the pale. The Kadagidi had been a conservative clan. But it had backed Murini, and Murini’s excesses had alienated the whole aishidi’tat. The conservatives were not in good shape, since Tabini’s return.

  Then he’d backed off his support for cell phone technology, and upset the Liberals.

  And Tabini had urged Tatiseigi, geographically sandwiched between the Ajuri and the Kadagidi, to reach out to his other neighbors, the Taibeni—who were unshakably loyal to Tabini. Welcome to the family, Great-uncle. Ignore our dealings on the tribal bill. We’re backing off on the cell phone bill. We’ve broken the association between the Marid and the Kadagidi, and gotten our own agreement with the Marid. With us, you don’t have to worry about your neighbors.

  Damiri—showing up in her uncle’s colors.

  He drew a deep breath. And kept reading.

  The old alliance of Tatiseigi’s Padi Valley Association with Ajuri’s Northern Association is now broken, at the same time that the Marid under Machigi is reconciling with the aiji, through a private agreement with the dowager . . . in effect trading the north for the south and the West Coast. If Machigi does not keep his agreements, or if political opposition from the Conservatives defeats the Edi bill and frustrates the West Coast, the Western Association will face a worrisome and dangerous situation, with disaffection in the Northern Association, led by Ajuri, and in whatever results in the Marid and Sarini Province should Machigi’s agreement with the dowager fall apart. Therefore passage of the tribal bill is critical and advancement of the trade agreement between the dowager and Machigi is critical.

  We have noted that Tabini-aiji, when attack came on him at Taiben and Shejidan, did not first resort to Ajuri or to Atageini, though Damiri-daja was with him, and related to both. He believed that his going to either for help would make them a target—and neither is noted for strength in arms.

  When we all, the heir, and the aiji-dowager returned from space, it was the aiji-dowager’s natural choice, through geographical position, to resort first to her husband’s associates, the Taibeni, then to her own longtime associate Lord Tatiseigi. This gave Tabini-aiji no choice in where he must first make an appearance. His return to power began on Lord Tatiseigi’s land, and by virtue of that, Lord Tatiseigi became the aiji’s first and foremost supporter in his return to power, joined by the Taibeni, and rapidly by many smaller central and coastal clans who had had their district authorities suppressed and replaced by outsiders in favor with Murini. The popular movement gathered force.

  At that point the Ajuri lord arrived, and began to promote the Ajuri connection to Damiri-daja.

  The Ajuri lord died under questionable circumstances. Lady Damiri’s father Komaji took the lordship of Ajuri. Komaji had an excellent chance to have mended his personal feud with Tatiseigi, and chose instead to exercise it. Simultaneously he pressed his relationship with Lady Damiri and spoke detrimentally about human influence on the heir, and about the dowager’s teaching, while he was in the dowager’s care. His presumption on his relationship with Damiri-daja culminated the night of the dowager’s agreement with Machigi in an attempt to gain access to the aiji’s apartment, which greatly alarmed the heir’s young bodyguards.

  He is now barred from the Bujavid and the capital, though he has not been forbidden communication. He has set himself in an untenable situation. We do not credit him with good judgment, and the heir’s insistence on bringing human associates down for his ninth and fortunate birthday celebration is likely to light a fuse, where Komaji’s resentment is concerned. If anything were to happen to the heir, Damiri’s second child, soon to be born, will become the heir instead—without the dowager’s influence, and without human influence.

  In general principle, conservatives would greatly prefer this. Komaji would be that child’s grandfather, and his jealousy of Lord Tatiseigi suggests several moves that would work to his extreme advantage: assassinating the heir, and/or Tatiseigi—provided the event could be sufficiently distanced from Komaji.

  We have suspicions regarding the death of the former lord of Ajuri. We wonder what other clans might have wanted the silence of the grave over their dealings in the Murini era. We have directly asked Tabini why he avoided Ajuri during his exile, and he confirmed he had his own suspicions of that clan, but did not voice them to Damiri. We suspect the former Ajuri lord’s own bodyguard conducted that assassination, and subsequently removed records of Ajuri dealings during those years—records that might have proved theft and assassination—even within the clan and the subclans. Komaji is regarded within his own clan as a man who allows emotion to guide his actions. He is not respected, but he is feared. His relatives may not tolerate him much longer, but we cannot rely on that situation to protect the heir.

  We have strongly suggested to Tabini that a Filing would assist us.

  Return this note now. We shall destroy it.

  Bren handed it over. Algini touched it with a pocket candle-lighter and it went up in a puff of flame, leaving only a fluff of gray ash that fell apart.

  “I understand,” he said.

  Tabini didn’t want Damiri to take over Ajuri. He didn’t want her to have any part of it.

  Why? Because, Tabini had said, Ajuri swallows virtue.

  And he had said that Damiri couldn’t settle on a clan. Even when she was wearing Tatiseigi’s colors, and bearing a Ragi child.

  Problem, Bren thought.

  Problem, of a sort a human was very ill-equipped to feel his way through. Damiri was not a follower, but a leader—of a strong disposition to wield power. That disposition had made her valuable to Tabini. She had a quick mind, an ally who understo
od him to the core; but in the way of atevi leaders—it made an unruly sort of relationship, a unison of purpose very, very difficult to keep.

  Interpret Damiri’s actions as emotion-fueled and self-destructive?

  He didn’t think so. Not even considering her condition. She might have shaky moments, but that brain was working on something. And she had a father she was not that close to, who was nowhere near Damiri’s level, not in intelligence and not in leadership qualities.

  No. Damiri was no fool. She would do exactly what she considered in her own interest. Tabini would do exactly what he considered in his—which included, above all else, the survival of the one association that kept the atevi world peaceful and prosperous: the aishidi’tat.

  The dowager’s ambitions were much the same. The dowager had helped create the aishidi’tat. She had created the last aiji; she had created Tabini; and she had taught Cajeiri.

  What did Damiri fight for? What was her driving interest?

  It was disturbing that she opposed the dowager . . . and that he had no real answer for that question.

  7

  Cajeiri, at his homework, because he had nothing else to do, heard the front door open, out in the foyer beyond the hall. That was an ordinary thing. Servants came and went all the time.

  Then he heard a familiar young voice out there, and another, and with that, he was out of his chair, out the door of his own suite and down the short hall as fast as he could run.

  “Nadiin-ji!” he exclaimed. Indeed, in the foyer he saw not just two, but all four of his bodyguards.