Machigi frowned and rested his chin on his hand. “Computers. And who will run these machines?”
“Foreigners, until you educate Taisigi youngsters in their use. Which you can do if you allow the Academicians’ Guild to establish a school.”
“Computers. Schools. Guilds. Are we to become Shejidan? We are not Shejidan, paidhi! Nor are our fishermen going to send their sons to a school! You have no idea!”
“They may, however, send their daughters.”
“You are speaking of the utter overthrow of custom.”
“You will never become Shejidan, nandi, but you will be the Marid, a modern Association within the aishidi’tat, and your people will have hospitals, schools, phones, and, one hesitates to say, television.”
“We have not bargained for the utter overthrow of tradition.”
“You will sign what seems logical to you to sign, and the Guilds must present their case to you for each of these changes. Things will change at whatever pace you decide, and your leadership, nandi, one is quite confident is equal to the task. When your people prosper, you will have their man’chi, one has no question. And your sons and daughters will, one predicts, be working in space, beside Ragi and Maschi, Edi, Easterners—and humans. One would be dishonest to claim things will stay the same. But you will not have people dying of sickness a local hospital could cure with a single dose of medicine or of injuries a surgeon could heal. You will not have villages festering in situations one single phone call to your offices could relieve. That is power, nandi. That is power no lord in the Marid has ever wielded. Computers. Phones. Satellites to warn your ships of weather. Within the Marid, you will have the same authority the aiji-dowager has over the East and Tabini has over the Ragi and Lord Geigi has on the space station; and when you visit Shejidan, you will do so with the ceremony and respect of a regional lord. But, nandi, one first needs the guilds to make these things happen. And one needs at least a few schools…not for everyone. But schools there must be. Your urging can populate them.”
“You will get me assassinated.”
“You will need Guild protection, I have no doubt, but you have it. I have been threatened by persons claiming the shuttles pierce the sky and may let the planet’s atmosphere leak away into the ether. I have been personally attacked by an individual claiming his telephones are spying on him at night…these things will happen. You will not find it advisable to walk on quayside without your bodyguard, I regret to say. You will not find it advisable at any time to ignore your bodyguard’s warnings. That I can promise you, from personal experience. There are dangers. Not everyone will be pleased at every step of the way. But there are compensations.”
Machigi gave a long sigh. “You need not tell me about threats. But to have them coming from my own people—”
“The perception that I am harming the atmosphere is now confined to a very few of limited education or unstable mind, and the Guild will not accept a Filing on such grounds. I understand your hesitation, nandi. I understand it very well. At times I have caused great distress, and I have suffered from it. In my worst fears, I am responsible for the disturbance that led to Murini’s rise. But I feel—I feel very strongly—that I have done what had to be done for people to live good lives—and long lives, safe from hazards that come from above the earth as well as on it. Baji-naji, it is terrifying to be the flex in the universe. A very few can do it. The aiji-dowager has wagered heavily on your having the intelligence and the courage to be one of the few. You are far too intelligent to keep your people at a technological disadvantage. And I think your nerve will not fail you.”
“If I were that intelligent,” Machigi said glumly, “I could think of another answer.”
“You will shape the Marid, nandi. You will influence the Guild in dealings with other clans. You will influence the succession in those clans. The Guild will accept advice. Make your choices well disposed to you. And agreeable.”
“Of the good will of Dausigi and Sungeni, one has no doubt, at present,” Machigi said. “The doubtful thing is to keep that good will, with the things you propose.”
“Use the Guild, nandi. Wrap it around you. In this one thing, you must be northern. Everything else is adjustable. You have to stay alive, or everything falls back to chaos.”
A short, sharp laugh. “Paidhi, it is decent advice.”
“Tell me: with your knowledge, nandi—what would you advise the north now, about the succession in the northern Marid? Is the Guild moving in the right direction?”
“One is less concerned for the new lord in Senji: Bridai is old, and quiet. He will cause no trouble to me, and if the Guild is truly capable of being persuaded, I can steer his choice of a successor. Then there is Dojisigi. And Mujita.”
One hardly liked to hear that assessment, but one already knew it. His intercession had saved the man, perhaps his daughter. A child. A child as humans reckoned it. But not necessarily so.
“Mujita is a fool—but his daughter, Tiajo, is dangerous. One has come to know that child all too well, and her father will be lucky if he dies of old age. Nand’ Gediri thinks I should marry the girl and set an heir in place over Dojisigi. But I’ll not have her serving my tea. Or teaching any of my successors.”
“Again, —” he began.
“—advise the Guild.” Machigi concluded, and leaned back. “So. They guard her. They guard me. Who prevails.”
“She will have to deserve the man’chi offered her. To the death. That is not so easily done, by a person of bad character.”
“She is an attractive little baggage. She would use that gift to the utmost.”
“The Guild does not train fools,” Bren said. “If she is what you say, she must convince the Guild she is the better ruler, or take her aishid down with her to ruin. And one suspects in her instance, the Guild may frustrate her inclinations and withdraw support entirely—which would not be a comfortable situation for her or her father.”
“What was the Guild’s position when they replaced Tabini-aiji? One is curious. One is quite curious.
Blunt question. Very blunt question. And maybe a test of honesty.
“What is not widely stated, but what I do know—and in confidence, nandi—there was a coup, with bloodletting, inside the Guild, shortly before there was one inside the aishidi’tat. There was a countercoup, when the will of the people put Tabini-aiji back in power, and those we now call the renegades fled south, a number at first and then a slow trickle of those less exposed. A handful of those of ill intent came into Shejidan from outside, to use force; and force ultimately resettled the matter at Tabini-aiji’s return. It is unfortunate that Dojisigi sheltered these people. It cost them and everyone else. But you may now have confidence that the trouble has solved itself and that the Guild in Shejidan has declared man’chi to Tabini-aiji.”
“You say so.”
“One has great confidence in the persons who assured me so.”
“And who are they?”
“One is constrained from saying, nandi, but one does believe them.”
“Nand’ paidhi,” Machigi said. “You are one of the most curiously honest individuals I have met, yet you represent two of the most devious alive! I am very reluctant to let you go. You will become corrupted by them.”
Bren gave a little bow of the head. “I shall be the same. I shall never forget our recent association, nandi, and I shall try to find a mutually agreeable course, fair to you and fair to the aiji-dowager. Standing between is my value in a situation.”
“Dispense with subtlety and give me your best advice. What would you advise in the next number of days?”
“Dispatch the representative to Shejidan as soon as possible—there will be curiosity from all Guilds, once they know the Assassins’ Guild has achieved agreement. Sign with the Merchants’ Guild first; they are reasonable people with a reasonable objective. Transport will have a standard agreement. Be cautious with the Messengers’ Guild, and read their agreement carefully. Bargain hard with t
hem, and ask the Merchants’ Guild if you distrust a clause—they will give you an honest answer. Sign the agreement with the aiji-dowager, and move on all convenient programs. Immediately loose rumors of a great trading venture contingent on that agreement.”
“And then?”
“Simutaneously be ready to send representatives to the East to set up a trade office on the coast; and outfit an expedition by sea. Within the Marid, establish clinics in key places: that will immediately see benefits to the people. Sign with the Academicians and establish a small school in Tanaja with high prestige and technical assistance from the Engineers’, the Messengers’, and the Physicians’ Guilds; concentrating first on those three disciplines and having a relationship with those Guilds. Erect windmills for power in the villages, not neglecting Senji and Dojisigi. The Engineers’ Guild will assist at your request, and Shejidan will assist you in that effort with materials and technology. The Messengers will provide broadcast radio for every village, each village to have at least one receiver, and let that network inform the villages for you. Speak to the people on a fixed schedule and inform them on progress and new programs and how to access them. Rumors in the Marid will then become scarcer than fact. Once people see benefits from change, their opinions will become more favorable—not universally, but with medical care and more prosperity, they will be more favorable. And that will secure your future.”
Machigi laughed softly. “Paidhi, you have it all laid out in your head, do you not?”
“One has thought about it, nandi. One has thought about it incessantly, in a desire to have the most benefit the fastest. That is what will make this work.”
“I shall miss you, paidhi, indeed. My ministers have no sense of humor.”
“I shall, I hope, see you again, nandi. I am more than willing to bridge gaps for you and to convey messages in, one hopes, a delicate way.”
“I have gifts for you,” Machigi said, “on which I have labored personally.” Machigi drew two small cylinders from his pocket, and offered it to him. “Use these as you see fit.”
“Shall I open them?”
“One is a polite letter for the aiji-dowager, which you only need deliver, and the other is reading for your journey.” Machigi stood up. The guest was obliged to do the same. The meeting was over. “I shall bid you farewell now, paidhi. The requested items will be aboard your bus by now. Staff will have carried your belongings down, and your small army of Guild will, I am told, be going back to Najida, to keep it safe from—whomever. I shall see you soon in Shejidan, nand’ paidhi.”
Bren slipped the two cylinders into his own pocket and bowed. “One will look forward to that meeting, nandi, not alone officially.”
“Flattery.”
“Yet true.” A second bow. “Baji-naji, nandi, we shall do this.”
He was done—sooner than he had expected, as well. The meeting could have gone far longer, or taken days, had the discussion gone wrong.
But it had not. They were both satisfied.
And it was time to get the hell out of the district and let the Marid take care of the Marid for a while without his interference rousing controversy.
He gathered his aishid, Tano and Algini conveniently arriving on the main floor with their own luggage and three servants carrying the rest. No expressions changed. No expressions betrayed any satisfaction or dissatisfaction with the proceedings. His bodyguard was on strictly formal behavior, communicating with short-range, and if there was any authority on the premises besides Lord Machigi—such as a local Guild officer—none appeared to wish them good travel.
Outside, under gray skies and a light sprinkle of rain, the bus stood waiting. The last baggage went aboard as they lingered at the bus steps.
Then the cargo doors shut. Bren caught the hand grip and climbed the first tall step, with Jago right behind him.
But someone had now appeared, in an official capacity: Tema, Machigi’s senior bodyguard, with his partner. Banichi delayed and joined Tano and Algini in that conversation outside the bus.
Jago put the briefcase on the seat and awaited his coat. Bren extracted the cylinders from his pocket before he slipped it off and offered it to Jago to hang for him—ostensibly servant duties, but at no point did his bodyguard leave him to fend for himself under still-questionable circumstances.
He settled in. The air in the bus was a little chill yet, but a welcome chill, considering the heavy vest his bodyguard would not let him omit. He set his briefcase on the floor by his feet, the driver started the engine, and the meeting at the bus steps ended with a fast exchange of signs, apparently cordial.
The rest of his bodyguard got aboard in uncommonly good spirits for the situation, the door definitively shut, and the bus rolled, meeting a light spatter of rain on the windshield as it left the wind-shadow of the building.
Communications would be going out from the bus about now on long-range equipment, a summons for the plane to meet them at Najida airport, a communication with the local Guild that they were on the move and that they would be passing through the streets.
Bren let go a long sigh, sheer relief to have gotten things this far, with Machigi’s general agreement. On the other hand, one hesitated to rejoice too soon.
The ink had not yet landed on the bottom line. There was a lot, lot more to attend to before that happened.
Banichi and Jago sat down in the seats facing his. Tano and Algini hung on in the aisle as the bus negotiated the downslope of the driveway.
“So, nadiin-ji?” he asked them.
“We found good agreement,” Banichi answered him. “His aishid is troubled at so much responsibility falling in their laps. But the Guild is carefully loading them with what they can bear, instructing them in procedures, assisting them with modern equipment. He was fortunate in them. He was very fortunate. You advised him well, Bren-ji.”
“One hoped one would receive a sign, if not.”
“Well-spoken, Bren-ji,” Jago said. “At all points.”
Bren let go a slow breath and melted back into the seat. “One is gratified by your confidence, nadiin-ji. Terrified at the scope of it all, but gratified. —Tano-ji, how are you holding up?”
“Quite well,” Tano said. Tano had taken it in the arm not so very many days ago. He was doing rehabilitation in between standing duty. Banichi and Jago and Algini had lasting scars— from keeping the paidhi-aiji in one piece despite his very best efforts to get himself killed.
“Rest,” he said. “Let the juniors manage the details for the rest of the trip. I have absolutely no needs. But,” he said, “one imagines you would care to read what Machigi has said.”
“One would be a little curious,” Banichi admitted.
“So am I,” he said, and uncapped the cylinder addressed to him, while they were still making their way through Tanaja’s streets. “Unbearably so.”
4
Machigi lord of the Marid to Bren-paidhi, salutations.
The Dojisigi and the Senji agreed together to back Murini of the Kadigidi in a coup against the Ragi Association to overthrow Tabini-aiji.
The plan was presented to me. Their scheme seemed to me no more likely to succeed than what their predecessors had done in every generation, but if it failed, and if we did not actively participate, I judged that Tabini would likely content himself with removing only the most active aggressors. In our perception of the situation, saying yes would delay a problem with Tori of the Dojisigi. So we said yes—but delayed lending any forces to their effort, expecting any day to hear that the plan had come down on their heads and that they were dead by Guild action.
When Murini’s coup actually succeeded and Tabini-aiji was thought dead, we were at once appalled and alarmed, expecting retaliation now to come down on us from space. But since the speed of Murini’s takeover had stranded two of the shuttles on the ground, it had thus, we thought, prevented intervention from orbit. We faced a very different situation from that we had anticipated. We knew that the third shuttle was sti
ll capable of return, and we estimated that retaliation might take a different form—that Lord Geigi himself might attempt to overthrow Murini-aiji. This, however, seemed distant—until the reports began, later, that strange machines were landing in various parts of the continent.
But from the very outset, when Murini immediately began to take apart the political alliances of the north, we began to worry that we had a far more dangerous situation than under Tabini-aiji. He was creating chaos in the north and tightening his hold in a merciless assault on those who spoke against him. The Dojisigi and Senji, since they had been more actively involved in his accession, were higher in his favor, and we were sure neither Dojisigi nor Senji would hesitate to move against us and all the southern Marid.
But Senji and Dojisigi themselves grew uneasy in their ally. Murini’s measures were bloody. We understood that he was purging the Guild itself of any support for Tabini…but there were rumors, relayed through my own aishid, that certain Guild elements had gotten away to the wilderness and would begin to move against Murini-aiji, that a counterrevolution would begin with assassinations in remote areas—and that, my aishid thought, might mean a strike at me.
Murini-aiji meanwhile gave no appearance of stability or coherence in his governance or his personal behavior. Excess ruled. Temper and whim governed. And no one was safe. If Murini-aiji noted a slight to himself, someone died.
Dojisigi and Senji began to think, one supposes, that the harsh measures taken in the north might in due time come south and that they had allied with a fool and a bully. They wanted to know Murini’s plans in that regard. That was the impetus for Farai of the Senji, invoking an old inheritance, to lay claim to your vacant apartment in the Bujavid. Murini-aiji had occupied Tabini’s apartment; your apartment shared a wall and they risked a great deal in this move— which was successful. Their spying gave Senji and Dojisigi some oversight of doings in Murini’s apartment, but my aishid thought information was possibly being fed to them, since while Murini was sunk in drink and abandon, the Guild that had put him in power was not.