Another person moved up to speak to the aiji, a lord of the northwest coast, who was clearly waiting his turn, and he was, he decided, done with the things he could say. To be replaced was at the moment a relief from having to think in atevi complexity. He moved aside with the due and automatic courtesies —
And encountered lord Badissuni.
"Nandi," he said.
"Nand' paidhi." The thin, unhappy lord looked sternly down at him. "Your security, one wishes to say, is highly accurate."
What did one say? His heart was racing. "They are Guild, nandi."
"Two of you, now," the lord said. "Does Hanks speak for you?"
"By no means, nand' Badissuni. I disapprove of her adventures and she wishes me dead."
"So one hears," Badissuni said. "7s this faster-than-light a lie?"
"No, nandi."
"Will this ship fly?"
"I have no doubt, nandi. There is no deception."
"One was curious," Badissuni said, and strayed off without another word.
More than damned curious. People were staring at him. He had the feeling he'd been used for display. A political prop. Talk to the paidhi. Be seen to talk to the paidhi. As he'd been seen to talk with Tatiseigi and everyone else available. He didn't see Jago. He didn't think she'd approve his being used; and perhaps neither would Tabini, who'd nevertheless invited the man.
He retreated to the corner next to the doorway, next to a porcelain stand for abandoned drink glasses, where Jase, drink in hand, stood talking with his security, Dureni.
"What was that?" Jase asked. "Is anything wrong?"
A flash of dark and pale green advised him of someone of the house beside him, and he turned to find lord Tatiseigi himself under Ilisidi's relentless escort, bound past them, he was sure, toward the interview area just outside.
"Everything all right?" Jase asked, and in that sense, yes, he was relieved to think.
Then something popped.
Security moved. Everyone moved. Tatiseigi and Ili-sidi were in the doorway and he didn't think — he just shoved Jase to the floor as Jase was diving toward lord Tatiseigi in the doorway.
Lord Tatiseigi continued to the floor along with others diving of their own volition — Bren was down, half sheltered by Dureni; everyone was low; and an apparently unarmed security around the aiji had turned into a crouched, gun-bearing battle-line.
"A lightbulb exploded!" someone shouted from the interview area beyond the door, where indeed a deep and startling shadow had fallen. The lily room burst into relieved laughter, and more laughter, amid a murmur of disgust from Dureni and an apology as Dureni hoped he hadn't hurt him.
"By no means," Bren said, accepting a hand up.
Jase, meanwhile, was in very intimate contact with a very offended lord Tatiseigi as lights flared in the doorway, and the television cameras, a live broadcast, swept over the confusion, Tatiseigi, struggling to rise — and Jase, who got to his feet with more agility.
"Nandi," Jase said faintly, edging backward, attempting to efface himself. But the camera tracked him relentlessly as the documentary reporter with a microphone turned up at Jase's shoulder.
"Nand' paidhi," the reporter said, "an exciting moment."
"I think dangerous," Jase answered quite correctly, and Bren reached him, seized his arm, and propelled him back out of the spotlight, as lord Tatiseigi also escaped the cameras. "He wishes to convey his apology, nand' Tatiseigi, and his profound concern." He didn't mention that the fall had happened partly because Tatiseigi had shown no reluctance to trample others underfoot reaching the door; and Jase had, indeed, tried to carry an adult ateva to the floor to protect him.
"Certainly it might have been more serious," Tabini said. In the tail of Bren's eye, Tabini came walking cheefully in among those who had hit the floor, including a wryly amused Ilisidi, whom Cenedi was helping to her feet. "Grandmother-ji?"
"Certainly an exciting party," Ilisidi said, and the cameras were still going in the doorway. "What for dessert, nandi?"
There was general laughter. And Tabini, never slower than his grandmother, as the camera's glaring eye carried it across the continent: "Nand' Tatiseigi! Good, good and fast! Our first line of defense, and damned well restrained, I say, of the lord of the Atageini, or there'd be no cameramen standing. My father used to call you the best shot in the valley, did he not, nandi?" Tabini waved his hand at the cameraman in the doorway. "Out, out, nadiin! You and your exploding lights! Take them out, out! You've seen the lilies! You've leaned over our shoulders long enough, you! Let us enjoy our evening!"
That was the aiji's word. The aiji's security intervened more directly, and the lights on which the r
cameras relied went out, all at once; someone had gotten the fuse. Lights died, cameras retreated.
Bren realized he had a death grip on Jase's arm and let go.
"It's all right," he said to Jase in Mosphei'.
But Jase retorted in Ragi, "I thought they were shopping."
There was an immediate and embarrassed silence. Then laughter from those in earshot.
"Shooting," Jase said, and went red. And fled out the door and hardly got out of sight before security bounced him back, angry and confused.
Lord Badissuni, disheveled and distraught, sat in a chair by a potted plant and looked overcome, possibly with premonition, or a recollection of gunfire.
"It's all right, Jase," Bren said. "You did all right."
"Toward the Atageini," someone near them had remarked. "Did you note that? Toward the Atageini, would you think so?"
Lord Tatiseigi himself was talking and joking, albeit shakily, with Ilisidi, and with Damiri. Tabini was talking with the Minister of Defense, in a very serious mode; and madam Saidin went over to the lord of the Atageini, as did others, to express their hopes that he was unhurt.
Likely the news service was embarrassed, too, and frightened. "Jago-ji," Bren said, "one wishes the news services to mention the matter in a good light. Tell nand' Saidin so."
"One understands," Jago said, and moved over to speak quietly with madam Saidin, who nodded, looked toward her lady's human guests, and then took herself outside, where he trusted Atageini diplomacy was well up to the task of reassuring the reporters. Jago went there, too, and then Cenedi, and Naidiri, of Tabini's personal guard.
Jase was very quiet. But Jago came back to say that the camera crew was greatly reassured. "We're putting junior security in charge and offering the camera crew the formal dining room. Nand' Saidin has ordered trays of food and drink and asked them not to cross the security perimeter. Nand' Naidiri has assured them of the aiji's good will and suggested an interview with the Atageini."
The adrenaline that had been running began to settle down. The television coverage had been scheduled to go on only another half hour. It was a consequence of the evening that the lord of the Atageini had not gone on television in the historic apartment, in his planned interview regarding the lilies, but there might have been worse consequences, and no one could be at fault for a bad bulb and the reaction in a roomful of hair-triggered Guild.
Lesser lords and dignitaries began to come to speak to the paidhiin, and one, Parigi of some western township, asked the delicate, the almost unaskable question, "One did remark, nand' paidhi, that the paidhiin moved to protect the house."
He'd moved because he thought Jase didn't know the danger; and Jase had dived for the Atageini probably because he'd had it dinned into him how important Tatiseigi was. Maybe it did say something to atevi how Jase had thought instantly to protect the Atageini lord. But it didn't say at all what atevi thought it did.
"He doesn't speak fluently, nand' Parigi, but I think it startled everyone. And Jase-paidhi knew lord Tatiseigi might be intended; remember we're human and draw no conclusions about man'chi — we often startle ourselves with man'chi, isn't that what they say in the machimi?"
"Certainly it startled me," lord Parigi laughed. "And my daughter, who's plagued me for a year to attend a court
party, was quite sure we were in a machimi ourselves — perhaps a little more excitement than we country folk are used to."
He could almost relax with such people. And with the good will offered. "Is this your daughter?" She was at the gawky stage, all the height, not enough weight yet: all elbows and knees. But excited, oh, very. "I'm very greatly honored. Nand' Jase, this is the — eldest?
Is it the eldest? Daughter of lord Parigi. Caneso, do I remember correctly? From —"
"Laigin, lord paidhi." The young lady was delighted to be addressed by someone technically a lord, but not landed; and he chose not to notice the gaffe at all: refreshing that an ateva could mistake such a thing.
"And this is your first time in Shejidan?" Jase asked her.
If anything, spirits were higher, the alcohol went down faster, and when a (fortunately not historic) glass dropped and broke on the tiles, there was laughter. The teenager laughed when she saw others laughing, and her father found occasion to steer her away.
"For a party on this floor," Ilisidi said, coasting by, "this is riotous and unrestrained. It will never equal harvest dances in Malguri. — Ja-son-paidhi, Tatiseigi will survive the rescue."
"Is the lord angry?" Jase managed to ask for himself, and remembered to add, "Nandi?"
"He will recover, I say." One didn't — ever — press Ilisidi on first acquaintance, even if one did limp through the language, and Ilisidi's reply was curt and less delighted. "Come, Bren-paidhi, I will make you make amends for your importunate associate." The latter as she caught Bren by the arm and drew him, perforce, with her.
"I should keep Jase in sight, nand' dowager."
"Oh, he's there." Ilisidi took him, to his dismay, to Tatiseigi himself. "Indulge his lordship, who wishes to ask you direct questions."
"I do no such thing," Tatiseigi muttered, and it might have been time to beat a retreat, or it might be the worst time to do so. Ilisidi did not play pranks on this scale. And Ilisidi, damn her, was off and escaped from the confrontation.
"Nandi," Bren said, and bowed and searched the bottom of his resources for compliments. "Your quickness and your forbearance with a young and mistaken person were very apparent to everyone."
"His foolishness was apparent, nand' paidhi!"
"He cast himself between you and expected harm, knowing your great importance to the aiji. Unfortunately — he lacks the grace and the mass of the Guild."
"Importance to the aiji, is it, nadi? With my niece in bed with the upstart of Taiben! And the dowager no better — attaching herself to humans and astronomers."
"I fear my regard in your eyes must be far less, then, since I regard the people you name with great respect and must defend them."
"Humans! Makers of machines! Polluters of the good air! Defilers of the land! The ether of space itself isn't safe from you!"
"Not defiled by my work, nandi. Not by my work." The lord of the Atageini had raised his voice to him. He came back in kind, which might be a misjudgment, but the dowager apparently got along with this man, and Ilisidi backed up for no one. "I hope for the good of atevi and humans to come from the work I do, lord Tatiseigi. So does Jase, who wears no bulletproof vest. Good evening, nandi."
Tatiseigi went so far as to seize his sleeve. Unprecedented, and commanding his attention at a disadvantage of size and strength. Atevi eyes reflected, catching the light just so, and Tatiseigi's shimmered gold.
"Defilers, I say."
"No, lord of the Atageini. And still bearing good will to you despite your attacks."
"Why? Are you a fool?"
"No, nandi. I do so because of the aiji-dowager, who has defended your interests to the aiji and to others and advised me to do so."
"Oh, the aiji-dowager, is it? Do her tastes run so small!"
No ateva in a polite setting had ever delivered him an insult of that kind, not on a personal level.
"I am devastated," he said with all the coldness he could muster. "She spoke well of you."
"Impudence."
"Nadi." He had never envisioned addressing a lord of the Association in that style of hostile equals on the field, either. But he did. Nor had Tatiseigi once let go of his sleeve. "You will disappoint your niece."
"How?"
"Because she also has spoken well of you. I assure you the ship-paidhi thought only to rescue you. That the cameras caught it was either unfortunate or an opportunity. 7 being a representative of governments advise you, nandi, to take your security, visit the reporters, and conduct the interview in the dining room. Such a report will air as often as the other, it will still be within these perimeters, it will often be rebroadcast because it will show yet another room of this historic residence. And, and, I advise you speak well of nand' Jase in order to erase the memory of a mutual indignity before millions. Play the part instead of a lord protected by one of the paidhiin at risk of his life!"
There was utter silence. The music played. The conversation continued around them.
"Impudent, I say."
"For the dowager's sake, I give you my advice unasked."
"For her sake I consider it and not the source." Tati-seigi let him go and stared at him. He stared back, having to look up to do it.
Then he became aware, to his utter consternation, that Tabini was and had been behind him.
"I also counsel you do so, lord Tatiseigi," Tabini said. "Your niece will stand beside you. So will the ship-paidhi."
In support of her uncle. A thunderbolt. Perhaps made necessary by what Jase had done. But a solution, all the same.
He looked for Jase, who occupied the same corner beside the door as before, with his security, but with a small cluster of guests near him. He asked his leave, and went over to Jase and explained the situation.
Jase didn't say much, except, in Mosphei', "I thought he was in danger. What do they want from me?"
"A good appearance," he said. "The lord is willing."
"I can't do this," Jase said in a tone of panic.
"Yes, you will," Bren said. "You will, Jase. You have to."
"No," Jase said quietly, and at that moment Jago caught his attention.
"Nand' paidhi," Jago said, attracting his attention, and he went aside, next to the porcelain lilies' most extravagant display, the north wall, one of those sections that had remained largely untouched, and where a large potted plant afforded a buffer from the crowd and a quiet place for whispers. "Nand' paidhi, I dislike to bring another matter to you, but the boy from Dur has come a second time into the subway."
"Oh, damn!" He'd spoken in Mosphei', having done it with Jase, and for a moment went blank.
"The boy," Jago said, "is in very serious trouble with the Bu-javid guards. He was warned. He saw the news coverage, apparently from a hotel down the hill. He has checked into three."
"What, hotels?"
"His behavior, nand' paidhi, has been entirely suspicious. The boy has checked into three hotels to throw security off his track."
"A boy that young —"
"I have not met him. He is not Guild. The moves he is making are provocative of very serious consequences."
"How serious?"
"There was gunfire, nand' paidhi. He did stop when ordered, for which one is very grateful. I understand he was hit by a masonry chip and that blood was drawn. Damage was done to the ceramics in the station and to a subway car, for which he will be held accountable. I haven't been down there. But I have asked them not to charge him yet, knowing your involvement. What do you order us to do?"
"Am I qualified to judge? Have I caused this boy's reckless behavior, Jago-ji?"
"Nand' paidhi, I think the fault is, as Banichi is wont to say, far too much television. The boy is ashamed to go home without the plane and without your release from feud. To him, at his age, this is great tragedy. To his father, this latest incident will be a disgrace that will indeed harm him in his dealings. The boy is coming to realize this and, being young, is now truly desperate."
"If I write the boy a ca
rd, with a ribbon, will he go home?"
"I hesitate to reward such foolishness but, if you will write it, nand' paidhi, I will send it down with one of the juniors. I will not have this boy's death attached to your name, nadi-ji, and some of the guards imagine him as Guild. Three hotels, paidhi-ji."
"But you know definitively he isn't."
"Not in remotest possibility."
"I'll sign the card." The lady's office had the more traditional wax-jack. The security office had a highspeed device that didn't require live flame. He started toward the door.
And missed Jase. Who was not where he'd been.
"Has Jase gone to the interview area?" he asked Jago, who talked to her pocket com.
"The lady's office. He's attempted to use the phone, nadi."
He stopped cold, at a place where an ateva lady felt free to brush close and say, "Nand' paidhi, such an interesting party, isn't it? The paidhiin were very brave."
For a moment he couldn't think, not where he was, not where he was going, in a room otherwise filled with people all towering head and shoulders above his head, through a doorway blocked by such people. He wanted air and a sane space for thought, and knew that Jago was following him. He found a gap and went through it and out the door.
"Be careful, nadi-ji," Jago said, overtaking him in the quieter, cooler air of the hall; she had the pocket com in hand.
"Who is he talking to, Jago-ji?"
"To the station at Mogari-nai. To the ship. But the call didn't go through. Our office stopped it."
He was less alarmed. He could use the wax-jack in the little office. The device had a lighter. He could talk sense to Jase in private.
"He's hung up," Jago said before they reached the door.
And when they reached the door and walked in, there were blowing white curtains, past the tapestry and needlework side panels that curtained the balcony and the dark.
But no Jase.
Jago moved. He thrust out a hand and prevented her, knowing, he decided in the next heartbeat, that Jase was in a mood, and that atevi intervention might gain compliance, but not a lot of information,