Protector

  “Beautiful!” was the word from above. Safely in ship-speak, this time.

  They reached the main floor to effect a rescue.

  But, unprecedented sight, the old man stood beside Ilisidi with a smile dawning on his face, watching the children so admiring his house. She smiled, pleased as well. “Well, well,” he said. “They are certainly appreciative.”

  Cajeiri saw them, cast a worried look at his guests, and hurried over to give a sober, harried bow. “Mani, Great-uncle! Shall we be lodged together? May I take them upstairs?”

  “As the dowager permits,” Lord Tatiseigi said, and nodded toward the handful of servants lined up by the stairs. “They will guide you. Do tell the servants, young gentleman, they should open the white suite for Jase-aiji and his bodyguard. —Ship-aiji, my staff will make suitable arrangements, and if there is any need, do ask my staff. —Nand’ paidhi. You will have the blue suite. I am confident it is ready for you.”

  “Nandi,” Bren said with a little bow, and to Jase—not sure Jase would have understood, since when he spoke to his own, Tatiseigi used the regional accent: “The white suite is adjacent to the blue. We’ll have time to catch up before—”

  About that time there was a sudden bang and a considerable clatter and sound of wheels on the marble floor downstairs.

  Lord Tatiseigi looked alarmed.

  A shriek echoed up from the foyer, ear-piercing and echoing.

  The human kids froze in alarm. Ilisidi simply said, with a sigh, “The parid’ja, Tati-ji.”

  Tatiseigi drew a large breath and said, “There are no antiquities in the suite assigned to the young gentleman and his guests.” He signaled and snapped his fingers for staff, who stood looking downstairs. “The young gentleman’s suite, for that.”

  No breakables seemed an excellent idea, in Bren’s opinion. He had no idea how they were to get the cage upstairs but to carry it. There were no lifts in Tirnamardi, most features of which predated the steam engine.

  But they were safe. They were within walls, inside a security envelope that three clans, the paidhi’s security, and ship security were not going to let be cracked. He had worried all the way. But what Cenedi had had moved in here was not just the presence of younger Guildsmen, and more of them, it was surveillance. And, he was sure, it was also armament to back it up. Nothing was going to move on the grounds without their knowing.

  And count the mecheiti in that camp as a surveillance device right along with the electronics. Surveillance and armament: one did not want to be a stranger afoot with mecheiti on the hunt.

  • • •

  Uncle’s house was just the way Cajeiri remembered it—only without the shells going off outside—and his birthday was absolutely certain now. Uncle had been patient, mani was not unhappy, Jase-aiji was a happy surprise for nand’ Bren and for him, too, and it was what he had dreamed of, having Gene and Artur and Irene with him.

  They all trooped along with the servants who guided them up the main stairs, and by the time they got up to that floor, there, making a huge racket, and silhouetted in the light of the windows at the end, came Boji’s cage, and his servants, Eisi and Lieidi, and two of Uncle’s, pushing it up the hall. Boji was bounding around, terrified by all the rattling and the strange place and the strange people, after the train ride and the truck, and he let out shrieks as they came, right to the middle suite on the floor, while he and his guests waited.

  The servants nodded a polite respect, and rolled the cage right through the door, into a suite with big, wonderful, sunny windows, tall as a man, and filmy white draperies that blew in the breeze from the open windows. It was a beautiful room. Nippy from the breeze, but after all the traveling, even that felt good.

  “Put him near the window, nadiin,” Cajeiri told the servants. Nand’ Bren’s servants had wired the cage door shut for the trip, and there was no way Boji could get loose. He was bouncing from one perch to another and looking very undone, panting, once the cage stopped, and staring at him with pitiful white-rimmed eyes, with his fur all messy.

  “Poor Boji,” he said, putting his fingers through the grillwork, so Boji could smell them and be sure it was him. “Poor Boji. I am sorry, I am sorry. —Close the window, Eisi-ji. They have spilled all his water.” It was in a glass jar with a tube, and it had emptied with the bouncing about. He was sure Eisi and Lieidi had kept him watered and fed on the train. “Get him water. And an egg. Poor Boji.” Boji was crowding close to the grillwork, up against his hand. Boji put his longest finger out and clamped it on his finger. It was very sad.

  “Is he all right?” Artur asked.

  “Just scared.” He kept his hand where it was. Artur reached out, but Boji moved away.

  “He’s a monkey,” Irene said. “Just like in the archive.”

  “Sort of. He’s a parid’ja. They eat eggs. They climb after eggs, for people.”

  “Climb after eggs.”

  “Some. Two kinds.” He could not remember the word for dig. The baggage was starting to arrive, and with it, there would be eggs. He kept soothing Boji, and Lieidi came back with the water bottle filled and put that in place. Then Eisi found the right bag and came back with an egg.

  “There is one egg left, nandi. He has had five, on the trip.”

  Five. They had stuffed him. He looked exhausted and mussed, but his little belly looked round. “Well, he may have one more. Arrange for eggs, Eisi-nadi. But, Eisi-nadi, Lieidi-nadi, these are my guests I have told you about. This is Irene-nadi, Artur-nadi, and Gene-nadi.”

  “Hi,” Eisi said.

  “Hi!” Gene said back, looking surprised.

  Cajeiri grinned. “My aishid knows more words.” Antaro and Jegari were back in the bedroom, arranging things, and he thought Veijico and Lucasi had gone out a moment ago—possibly to check in with house security. That was what they were supposed to do. “They have a few words.” He nodded, so that Eisi and Lieidi could get to work. “You hold the egg, Gene.”

  He handed the egg to Gene, then unwound the wire so he could open the door.

  But the moment the door was open, Boji launched himself at him, chittering, and held on—which was going to ruin his collar lace. He calmly reached for the egg Gene was holding and held it up so Boji could see it.

  Boji just reached out one arm and took it.

  “You do not eat that and hold on to me,” he said, and moved his arm to make Boji shift toward the cage. “Go on. Go back in your cage. You can take your egg. Good Boji.”

  “Does he understand?” Irene asked.

  “He understands a little. He has had five eggs already. He is not that hungry. But he always wants an egg. There.” He was able to transfer Boji to a perch, with his egg, and to shut and latch the door. He brushed off his sleeves and front. “He loses fur when he is scared.”

  “Look at him!” Artur said. Boji had opened his egg his way, tapping it with his longest finger until he could make a little hole, then widening that hole until he could use his tongue.

  “Amazing!” Gene said.

  The egg was empty, very quickly, and Boji, much relieved, began grooming himself, very energetically. His guests were fascinated, watching every move, but staying far enough away not to scare him. Soon Boji, very tired from all the excitement, fell asleep, and they fell to exploring the sitting room, and the bedroom. He showed them the bath and the accommodation, too, which were down the hall.

  When they came back to the room Boji woke up and set up a moderate racket, rattling the cage and wanting out. Cajeiri went over to quiet him.

  “Can we take him out of the cage?”

  “Very excited. He climbs. Not a good idea.”

  “There’s a house down there,” Gene said. He had looked out the window, moving aside the filmy curtains. “Lots of rails. Look! There’s one of the mecheiti.”

  He already had an idea what could be there, and he
immediately came and looked out. Uncle’s stables had been set on fire last year, in the fighting. And it was all rebuilt as if nothing had ever happened. That was a wonderful thing to see. “Those are Great-uncle’s stables,” he said in Ragi. And in ship-speak: “Mecheiti live there. If mani lets us, we can go there.” Back to Ragi. “Maybe they will let us ride.” And ship-speak: “Go on the mecheiti.”

  There were apprehensive looks. He had told them about riding up on the ship. They had thought it would be a fine thing. Now—

  “They’re awfully big,” Artur said.

  “I can show you. Even mani and Uncle may go. We can go all around inside the hedges. If they let us.”

  They were far from confident about that.

  “What do you do if they don’t want to do what you want?” Artur asked.

  “Quirt,” he said, and slapped his leg. “Doesn’t hurt. They just listen.”

  They all looked, for some reason, at Boji.

  “We try,” Gene said then, in Ragi. “We do.”

  “We try,” Artur said, not quite so confidently.

  “We try,” Irene said last. Irene was scared of a lot of things. She was never sure she could do things. Irene had always said her mother would not let her do this, and her mother would not let her do that. Whatever it was, her mother would not let her do it. Cajeiri remembered that, and he found he understood Irene, now, a lot more than before.

  “Well, you will not fall off,” he said. He became determined that Irene would get a chance to do lots of things her mother would never approve.

  • • •

  Shedding the bulletproof vest had been first on the list. Changing to a simple coat and dropping into a plump chair was second, and having Jase across from him in a quiet chance to rest and talk was something they hadn’t enjoyed in a year.

  Banichi and Jago, Tano and Algini all settled down to a quiet, comfortable rest right with them, standing on no ceremony. They’d all lived together. Polano and Kaplan, who didn’t speak Ragi and weren’t entirely informed of the political intricacies, had gladly opted for baths down the hall, and a quiet rest next door, in Jase’s suite.

  Supani and Koharu kept the water hot and the teapot full—there had been a very nice service waiting on the buffet. They were on duty for the first time during the trip, while Banichi and the rest had seen nothing but duty since well before dawn.

  “I’m doing pretty well,” Jase said, momentary lapse into ship-speak, when he asked. “My spine’s almost quit popping, and if I can shake this headache before dinner, I’ll be great.”

  Bren understood that. His own last shuttle flight had been as fast as they could make it, a hard burn from the station, to a fast dive and a landing on Mospheira. Jase’s flight this time had been far more conservative. “You certainly were a surprise. To all of us. And that’s unusual.”

  Jase had said the captains had sent him. And that it was for the captains’ reasons—flatly that they were using the children’s visit. And hadn’t cleared it with Tabini or the dowager.

  Assessing the situation on the mainland. He could well understand that.

  “I have a little guess,” he said, “that the situation between the Reunioners and the Mospheirans on the station is making life difficult for the ship-folk You’re outnumbered, even if you have all the power. I heard a little of this from Geigi. You and the Mospheirans and the atevi as a bloc can outvote the Reunioners on every issue. But now you’ve got them straining to break away from this station and establish a new colony out at Maudit.”

  Jase nodded slowly. “That’s pretty accurate. It sounded good at first. Less so, considering the tone the Mospheirans have provoked out of the Reunioners. At first it seemed as if the Mospheirans hold the Reunioners personally responsible for the sins of their ancestors. But when the Reunioner leaders started calling the Mospheirans traitors—you’d believe the Mospheirans were right.”

  “Is Braddock at the head of this?”

  Louis Baynes Braddock. That was the Reunioner stationmaster—who’d resisted all reason when it came time to abandon Reunion.

  Hadn’t liked relinquishing his power, not at all.

  “Definitely. We could prosecute him for the things he did at Reunion. But with us voting with the Mospheirans on every issue, that action doesn’t look disinterested. There’s a lot of heated rhetoric. Now that the Reunioners are starting to splinter on the Maudit issue—and there is at least some balking on Braddock’s plan—these kids, with a peaceful, personal connection to the aiji’s son—they offer something you can’t turn into a political ploy. The contact makes the Mospheirans just a little nervous. They think, I guess, that the kids’ relationship will give the Reunioners some sort of special access. But they’re only three kids—and the Mospheirans have you for reassurance. That’s why I said it’s for our reasons, my being here. Braddock doesn’t want this mission to succeed. The moderates among the Reunioners, who have no clear leader, do. The atevi are calm about it all. The Mospheirans have had one anonymous wit say these three kids already show better sense than Braddock. That’s caught on—and Braddock isn’t happy. We are. Lord Geigi and the moderate Reunioners are watching this, not knowing quite what to hope—but hoping, all the same, that if there were Reunioner paidhiin—the Reunioners don’t remotely understand that word, really—that their influence might win out, not just in a decade or so—but now—over Braddock’s.”

  “Did they explain the paidhiin tend to be shot at?”

  “I don’t think they mentioned that part.”

  His aishid found quiet amusement in that. He noted it. Probably Jase did. Jase had a sip of tea and said, in Ragi, and with a nod: “I told Lord Geigi. He said he thought it was the best decision. Then he added something else. That some Reunioners may think they can set up a colony and run it their way. But that, in the spirit of the agreement between humans and Tabini-aiji, if we should go out to Maudit—Mospheirans, Reunioners, and atevi should have a share of it.”

  “You know,” Bren said, “Tabini would surely appoint a lordship to oversee an atevi establishment there, if it were seriously proposed. But what Tabini more favors is the promised starship. The coup delayed it. He wants it. I’m sure he raised that point with Geigi. There is Reunioner employment.”

  “Braddock is not in favor.”

  “Poor man. He will not get all he wants.”

  Jase said seriously, “The Reunioners have only just become aware that the world does control the resources. All along they’ve made up reasons for why atevi came with us to Reunion. They have no understanding of just how important Tabini-aiji is to this world in general and their rescue in particular. They missed the last two hundred years of Mospheirans and atevi making this arrangement work, they missed Tabini-aiji pushing for greater tech and for making the whole space program possible. And now they have Braddock telling them everything we tell them is a self-serving lie.”

  “Ignoring the fact, as Braddock always has, that we could have alien visitors dropping by any day to see if we lied to them,” Bren said. “The man’s a fool. The last thing we need is to have him in charge of anything, let alone an entire station. He nearly got them killed once already. Have they forgotten?”

  Jase shook his head. “Never underestimate the power of people to be swayed by what they want to hear. But three children, three of their own, in complete innocence, are saying something that contradicts Braddock—and no few Reunioners are following this, closely, and for the first time listening to actual information. So, yes, the Council put pressure on the parents—promised the kids would be safe. Promised—well, at least suggested it could be advantageous. A guaranteed future for the kids.”

  “One is glad to hear that,” he said. He declined to let Koharu make another pot. “We daren’t have another round. We’ll have formal dinner coming up. No question.”

  Algini got to his feet quietly, and Tano followed su
it, the both of them excusing themselves with a little bow. It was nothing unusual.

  It was a little more unusual that those two put on their sidearms and left, but security responded to a lot of signals that were simply precaution, and they equipped under whatever rules were current. They might have gotten a call about something as routine as a query from the kitchen.

  Banichi and Jago, however, at apparent ease, stayed until the pot was empty, and when Jase declared he had to dress for dinner, Banichi got up and saw Jase to his room.

  Jago said then, quietly, “There is, Bren-ji, still information on Ajuri movement. They are nearer, but not trending in our direction.”

  “Is there any interpretation?”

  “It is eastward movement. This takes them more toward the road home.”

  “Giving up, do you think?”

  “One is not certain, Bren-ji. Possibly. Or possibly not, if they decided to enter Purani territory and keep a township between us.”

  Those lesser clans with ties on both sides of the question—clans which typically tried to stay out of difficulties between their larger neighbors.

  “We are keeping an eye on the matter,” Jago said, “and we will use Taibeni Guild to advise Ajuri Guild that they are treading delicate ground. If they do not know we are here, we are not informing them.”

  Not sending things through Guild headquarters. He understood that.

  “More of it later,” Jago said. “We shall see if they regard that, or if Komaji is bent on making a nuisance of himself.”

  Komaji. Damn the man.

  “How is our situation?”

  “We are satisfied,” Jago said in a low voice. “We have removed certain suspect servants. We have confidence in Lord Tatiseigi’s remaining staff, we have laid down strict rules about outside communication, and we have moved in our elements not only under canvas, out by the gates, but in positions within the house. We have set up our own equipment, that we know is clean. Lord Tatiseigi’s house sits isolated within its hedges—a virtue. We control the grounds so that nothing can move unnoticed. If Ajuri comes no closer, we should be able to let the children go out and about, ride as they please, if they please, explore the immediate area of the house, and enjoy their holiday. Tabini-aiji is safe and Geigi is in the heavens. The young gentleman and his guests are under our eye and with a great deal of secure space about them.”