Protector: Foreigner #14 (7 page)

There was nothing Bren could say, no reassurance he could give, and Geigi nodded. “It is some human signal I have missed, then.”

“It is not.”

“Which brings us to this business of the children.”

“How so, Geigi-ji?”

“The Reunion-humans who do not want to go to Maudit, the ones who want to stay, use this word
assimilation.
”

“To become in-clan,” Bren said. “To become one with the Mospheirans. This is what we initially hoped would happen. But the way politics has so readily sprung up, no, not so easily. This is a power struggle. These people have seen a very frightening situation out in space, alone. Fear of being abandoned. Fear and distrust of their leaders—remember that their leaders
take
power by having a coalition of supporters. Distrust of the leaders is very possible. There will be a rival set of leaders attempting to gain followers. They will turn to the ship-humans, once they see the Mospheirans will not give them positions of authority. Maudit is an issue—but one they will politicize and argue for years. I suspect the Maudit issue is already dead, though some will not admit it. And as I see it, Mospheirans and ship-humans would be very wise to stay united with atevi.”

“This insanity equals Marid politics.”

“It is not that different. Except that among these humans there are no clans. There will be a committee in charge, and you will see a great deal more milling about than atevi will do. Let me guess now. The children’s parents are in this number who want
assimilation
.”

“Yes. Precisely. Three of them seem not so enthusiastic about their children being guests here, and one of those three, oldest of the boys, named Bjorn, aged thirteen, is now in an advanced training program—he is very bright, and has real prospects. His mother is very reluctant to see him give that up, since he might risk dismissal, should he accept the young gentleman’s invitation. The questions of the parents of the other two boys were reportedly about safety and supervision, which seems a natural thing. In the case of the girl Irene, however—I have this from the ship-humans—her mother has been fearful and suspicious of atevi. She was embarrassed by Irene’s meetings with the young gentleman on the ship, and was strongly against any association. I have been warned of this. Yet at a certain point she personally brought a set of letters which she said
she
had withheld, and was very polite, if highly nervous. One is suspicious that these letters are of recent composition. They lack the historical references of the others. And yes, we have read them.”

“One would not fault that at all, Geigi-ji.”

“There are indications, my sources say, that this woman has been approached by others of exactly the sort you forewarn . . . but it would not be a turn of man’chi driving this change of mind, would it? What, then, can so profoundly change this mother’s opinion? She is a woman without administrative skills. She has been public in her detestation of atevi. Now she approaches my office bowing after our fashion and begging to have her daughter go.”

“She is not likely leading anything,” Bren said bluntly. “But may have someone urging her to be part of this. One cannot fault your observation in the least, Geigi-ji. The three reluctant ones ask proper questions. Irene-nadi’s mother believes her child will be in the hands of those she hates. Yet what she can gain from sending her must matter more. That is my opinion.”

Geigi drew in a breath. “All this came up just as I was leaving and trying to gather information on the situation on the coast. I brought the letters. I have apprehensions I attempted to convey to the aiji. But I am feeling I am caught between whatever these Reunioners are up to and my aiji’s determination to keep a promise to his son. I attempted to explain the situation to Tabini. He asked me only if I saw any danger to the young gentleman at the hands of any of these children, and I pointed out that they might attempt to gain favors and influence. He said that that goes on daily and that is fully within the young gentleman’s understanding. I argued the situation further tonight, attempting to explain that these are not Mospheiran children, and that their parents may attempt to use the connection to political advantage. He said I should discuss the matter with you, and that we should take measures, but that he cannot now go back on his promise. Excuses can still be found to stop this meeting or at least delay it until some of these issues are settled. I can prevent their coming. I shall take it on my head, if necessary.”

“It would greatly distress the young gentleman,” Bren said, “and I have every confidence our young gentleman himself is no fool where it comes to people trying to get their way. If one of his associates presses him too far, I have every confidence they will rapidly meet his great-grandmother’s teaching face to face. The changes in him and the changes in them in the last year will, I think, more confuse the human children than they will him. I have thought about this. I am most concerned that there have
been
no other children in his vicinity—unless one counts two of his bodyguards—and he has never forgotten what he considers the happiest time in his life. If we attempt to stop him meeting with them—we create a frustrated desire that may have the worst result,
particularly
if these children develop political notions.”

Geigi nodded. “So. In the aiji’s view, he expects the meeting will go badly and that disappointment will cure all desire in the young gentleman. But in my view, Irene-nadi’s disappointment will not blunt the ambitions of Irene-nadi’s
mother.”

“One other thing could happen, Geigi-ji. One or more of these children
might
become a useful ally for the young gentleman, in his own day.”

“One would wish that,” Geigi said. “For the young gentleman’s sake. Or if not—he does have you to set it in perspective.” He finished the little left in the glass and set it down. “I have grown quite happy in my human associates, Bren-ji. In a sense—one could wish the young gentleman as felicitous an acquaintance as we both have. But I do fear the opposite is more likely the case. Note—the boy Gene, too, is a rebellious sort, already acquainted with station security. But then—one could say that of the young gentleman himself. At least—whoever supervises them should be forewarned of that.”

That somewhat amused him. “We keep a watch on the young gentleman. So we shall at least give them the chance, Geigi-ji. We shall. The young gentleman will deal with it. I think his expectations actually
are
tempered with practicality. Remember who taught him.”

“Well, well, you greatly reassure me.” Geigi rose, and Bren did. And then Geigi did something very odd. He put out his hand and smiled. “I have learned your custom, you see.”

Bren laughed and took it, warmly, and even clapped Geigi on the arm. “You are unique, Geigi-ji. You are a most treasured associate. What would I do without you?”

“Well, we are neither of us destined for a peaceful life, Bren-ji. But we take what we can, baji-naji. I have so enjoyed your hospitality.”

“Good night, Geigi-ji. I shall miss you.”

“Good night, my host,” Geigi said, and exited the office, into the hall.

Supani was still waiting. But not waiting alone. Banichi was there, and walked with Bren and Supani, into Bren’s bedroom.

That was unusual. “Is something afoot?” he asked Banichi, quietly, while Supani took his coat.

“Important business,” Banichi said. “But not urgent, at this hour. Rest assured everything is on schedule. Security is arranged, the car is under watch tonight, and we shall have no delays in the morning.” Then he said, to Supani, “The paidhi will wear the vest tomorrow, Pani-ji. And on every outing until I say otherwise.”

“Yes,” Supani said without missing a beat.

The vest was only good sense, Bren thought. He was not surprised at that requirement, given recent history.

“Jago will be here,” Banichi said, and that Jago would arrive in his bedroom was nothing unusual: they had been lovers for years. But that Banichi said it—Banichi meant something unusual was going on.

“Yes,” he muttered. He suddenly felt the whole strain of the past several hours. He wished he had more energy, to dive fresh into whatever the Guild had done, or was doing, and he wanted desperately to know, but he was running right now on a very low ebb.

“It can wait,” Banichi said.

The hell it could. Tension that he had dismissed in his conversation with Geigi had entered the room with his bodyguard. He smelled it, he felt it in the air. Supani, a servant of whom not even his bodyguard had doubts, helped him off with his shirt, and Supani asked in a very low voice, “Will you still want the bath in the servants’ hall, nandi?”

“Yes,” he said. Geigi, his guest, a man of great girth, facing a long flight, absolutely needed the master bath. The little shower in the back passages was all he needed. He stripped down, flung on his bathrobe, and headed out, with Banichi, whose route to his bodyguards’ rooms, next to the servant quarters, lay in the same direction.

“Truly it can wait?” he asked Banichi, in the dim hallway outside the servants’ bath.

“It was an interesting meeting,” Banichi said quietly. “Not surprisingly, the matter involves Ajuri.”

God. It was very possible he’d stepped squarely into the middle of that situation, intervening with Damiri tonight.

“One hopes not to have caused a problem tonight, Nichi-ji. The dowager made a gesture of peace toward Damiri. One attempted to intervene on the side of reconciliation, for good or for ill. One has no idea of the outcome. Tabini-aiji suggested, in private, that Damiri may try to take Ajuri as lord and he would oppose it.”

“An assessment he has also given us,” Banichi said. “The consort taking Ajuri would sever her from the Atageini, even if she then makes peace with them. There are things we do not believe either the dowager or the aiji yet know, Bren-ji.”

“About Damiri?”

“About Ajuri,” Banichi said, which widened the range of possible ills by at least a factor of two, and assured he was not going to get a restful sleep tonight. “Jago will tell you. Be extremely careful where you discuss any of this.”

“Get some rest,” he said to Banichi.

“Things did not go that badly,” Banichi said to him in parting. He was sure it was for his comfort.

“One hopes not,” he said. “I have learned things from Geigi I should mention, too.”

“Your bodyguard knows,” Banichi said, and Bren blinked. Of course there was monitoring. He hadn’t expected it to go on that late, with Geigi. But it was a relief to him that they
had
heard. Reconstructing it all, tired as he was, was beyond him.

“Good,” he said.

“We shall just have a cheerful trip tomorrow,” Banichi said, “and discuss the weather throughout. Leave Geigi’s briefing to Geigi’s bodyguard once they launch. None of it affects him. Have your bath, Bren-ji. And rest.”

Bath. It was a shower. He no more than scrubbed and rinsed, threw his bathrobe on, and was on his way out the door when Jago came into the servant bath, in her robe.

“Jago-ji.”

Jago folded her arms and shut the door. “We can talk,” she said. “Narani and Jeladi have been extremely careful.”

Not all Guild went in uniform. Narani, that elderly, kindly gentleman, was an example. Bindanda, the cook, was another.

And if Jago said the area was secure and Narani had kept it that way, it was secure.

“One asks,” he said. “One does not even frame a specific question, for fear of misdirecting the answer. Tell me what I need to know, Jago-ji.”

“First, dealing with any aspect of it can wait until we have seen Lord Geigi into orbit.”

“He
is not involved,” he said. He would bet his life on Geigi’s integrity. He had made that bet. Repeatedly.

“He is involved as an ally. But if we told him everything we know, we might not get him off the ground. We have briefed his aishid: they will brief him.”

“One understands.” He did. Perfectly. “And the aiji?”

Jago drew a deep breath. “By the Guild Charter, we
can
inform the aiji directly of whatever touches his security and the security of the aishidi’tat, and what he then chooses to tell his bodyguard is not regulated—which has been our route for this and other matters.”

Since the last Guild-chosen bodyguard had attempted to kill him, Tabini had hand-picked four young distant relatives within the Guild. He had done it over conservative objections, bitter regional objections, and very heated Guild objections; and the Guild now had constantly to maneuver around that stone in the information flow at the very highest levels. It
would
not grant the aiji’s bodyguards a higher ranking or higher clearance until they certified higher. And that temporarily left the aiji-dowager and, ironically, the paidhi-aiji, with the highest ranking bodyguards on earth and above it . . . and the aiji guarded by young men who had to get their information from next door.

“We have several immediate problems,” Jago said, “and your need to know, Bren-ji, has also come up against Guild regulations. So we, and Cenedi and his team—we have observed several things regarding which we are routinely going to violate Guild regulations. You need to know these matters. First is something the aiji can deal with—the Ajuri feud with the Atageini. Lady Damiri’s father, Lord Komaji, is back in Ajuri, telling his version of what happened, and why he was dismissed, and why Lady Damiri’s staff was dismissed. His lies involve your influence, and the desire of the aiji-dowager to subvert her great-grandson. His version states that Damiri-daja is being held prisoner and abused, and that Tabini intends to take her daughter from her.”

“One is not surprised he would lie,” Bren said.

“The troubling matter is that these lies have a purpose and a clear deadline, beyond which they will start to unravel.”

“The birth of the baby. News coverage.”

“We have concerns. Lord Komaji’s bodyguard is not that highly ranked: he has somewhat the aiji’s problem. But four other, higher-ranked teams have moved into Ajuri and we cannot get at their records even to find out the names involved. We have access that should be able to do so. But that access does not turn up these particular records.”