The meeting was evidently set not for the little salon, but for the formal salon of Tabini-aiji's apartments with, in the many wide windows, the Bergid Range floating hazily above the city's tiled roofs. The morning overcast had burned off. The air had warmed. It was a pleasant and sensual breeze flowing through the apartment — untainted with the smell of paint, Bren noticed.
Banichi had dropped to the side as they passed the security station in the foyer of the aiji's apartment, and as the paidhi acquired nand' Eidi for a guide. Banichi had settled into the security station with Tabini's security. The lot of them, Bren suspected, would trade information of a sensitive sort, so Banichi was about to spend a profitable few moments, maybe more informative on the real goings-on in the Western Alliance than his own meeting was about to be.
Elderly Eidi (undoubtedly of the Guild as the formerly naive paidhi began to suspect all high lords' close attendants were of the Guild) poured tea and handed it to him while he stood waiting. "The aiji will be here at any moment," Eidi said. "He's been on the telephone, nand' paidhi, an unexpected call."
One of those days, Bren thought, thinking of the Badissuni matter, wondering whether it would divert Tabini's attention completely away from the report he had to give.
But he stood waiting, exercising due caution with the teacup and the priceless rugs underfoot — he had once managed to drop a cup, to his intense embarrassment — and gazing out at the mountains at a view very like the one from his apartment.
Out there, unseen from this range, forest swept up the mountain flanks. Forest reserves and hunting villages existed, an entire way of life remote from the city.
Closer in, the tiled roofs of Shejidan advanced along the hills in their significant geometries, neighborhood associations which defined atevi life. You could belong to several at once; you could belong to two that hated each other and hold man'chi, he had learned, to both in varying degrees. He was looking at associations economic, residential, political, and, he guessed, but could not prove, marital.
And there were those walls that separated a few houses off together in private unity. Those were associations by trade or by kinship within the other associations. The relationships were defined even in the orientation and the age-faded colors of the tiles.
Once the eye knew what it was looking for, it could find information laid out to simple observation in Shejidan. Atevi had never hidden those most intimate secrets from humans. One supposed they took for granted they hadn't hidden them. But humans had looked right at this view for decades and never grasped what they were seeing. The paidhiin before him had failed precisely to explain the nuances of those faded colors and, no different than his predecessors, he made his own guesses and bet the peace on them.
It damn sure wasn't a Mospheiran city. You couldn't forget that, either.
You stood under the same sky, you looked at the same stars, the same clouds, the same sea… but it wasn't Mospheira where you were standing.
It wasn't the ship, either. It certainly wasn't the ship. He felt sorry for Jase. He really did. In the moments he most wanted to strangle Jase, and there had been some, he still knew what a strain Jase was under. And this last stress, the blow to his family, the safe home one left behind and imagined was always inviolate — was extreme.
God, he knew.
"No, no, and no!"
That was Tabini in the hall outside.
"Light of my life, you will not, you will not have your uncle in the apartment, it will not happen!"
"It's our ancestral residence!" he heard: lady Damiri's voice. "What can one do?"
"I know it's your ancestral residence! It's Bren's life, gods less fortunate! You know your uncle! He's dealing with that damned Hagrani!"
It didn't sound good. It didn't sound at all good.
The door opened. Tabini walked in, the aiji of the aishidi'tat, the Western Association, the most powerful man on the planet — far overshadowing the President of Mospheira, who couldn't rule his own staff, and who didn't, additionally, command an Assassins' Guild.
— For which, Bren often thought, thank God.
Damiri came in second, and the respective guards, third through sixth, as servants hurried to catch up. Bren bowed and maneuvered toward the appropriate chair by the window, as Tabini chose one of the pair facing the view.
Tabini and Damiri settled comfortably side by side, the image of felicity and domestic tranquility in a flurry of servants in red and guards in black.
"So," Tabini said. "Good trip, nand' paidhi? I received your preliminary report. Gods felicitous, you have stamina."
"A productive trip, aiji-ma. I've left the small data with nand' Eidi, if you will. As busy as this season may be, I would be happy to expand the account to details in writing —"
Tabini lifted his fingers. "I by no means doubt the accuracy of your general estimations. Damned nuisance that your trip home had to be so hasty. I trust it curtailed nothing of moment."
"No, aiji-ma." There was no indication the stray pilot rated the aiji's notice, and he left the matter silent. "Everything of moment is in the files I've made available. And there's nothing critical. I would claim your generous attention, aiji-ma, to honor certain promises I've made."
A wave of the fingers. "Data for the experts and the sifters of numbers. News of yourself. News of nand' Jase. What is this about an accident — about the death of Jase-paidhi's father?"
Atevi had so many delicate words for death. Tabini chose the bluntest, least felicitous. And note that Tabini did know. At what hour Tabini had known — the paidhi was perhaps wise not to ask.
"I've advised him to contact his mother for information," Bren said, "and that he should by all means use official channels in such emergencies. Apparently the information came to him by Mercheson-paidhi, instead of directly from his mother or his captain, as would have been more appropriate to his relationship and his rank."
"My spies report the fact of the phone contact between Mercheson and Jase." Atevi had the devil's own time with the combinations of consonants in Yolanda and preferred Mercheson, never quite making sense of the protocols of human names. "There was a set of messages from the earth station on Mospheira to the ship and the ship to Mospheira preceding and following the contact between Mercheson and Jase-paidhi."
"Possibly," Bren suggested softly, with the definite impression that, yes, Tabini had held this particular piece of distressing news from the paidhi until the paidhi was home to handle Jase, perhaps for fear the paidhi might breach security, alter his schedule, or call the ship himself. "Perhaps this communication between Mercheson and the authorities on the ship was because she realized she'd let out something, aiji-ma, or it might have a less felicitous interpretation. I would imagine, but not swear, that she was distressed to have broken the news and had no idea he didn't know But before Jase's contact with Mercheson — clearly there was one prior call, but several — would be somewhat unusual."
"The name Deana Hanks has floated to the surface of such messages in the last four days. Deana Hanks has advised. Deana Hanks has said…"
Damn, was the word that floated to the surface of his mind, but one didn't curse in the aiji's presence.
"One is far from pleased to hear so, aiji-ma, but I have no means to curtail her activities. I'll certainly review the transcript of those contacts."
"I have provided one. My informants say that Jase Graham has taken to his room in high and angry emotion. But that you estimate no danger in him."
The informants were the entire staff over there, via lady Damiri, who said not a thing.
"He wishes to return to the ship," Bren said, "— and he knows the way — the only way — lies through his performing his job. I do worry for him. But I believe he already shows signs of recovery from a very profound shock." That was stretching it a bit. But one never wanted atevi to grow too quick-fingered about their defensive instincts. "Jase is not a dangerous man, aiji-ma. In terms of his knowledge, perhaps, but in terms of deliberate harm to the premises or to any individual, no, my human judgment says no."
"On your judgment, Bren-paidhi. Do as you see fit regarding security, only so you protect yourself, the staff, the premises. You may have heard —" He slid a glance at Damiri. "There will be an inspection."
"The lilies," Damiri-daja said quietly.
"Lord Tatiseigi," Tabini said, "will tour the restored breakfast room. And there will be cameras — official cameras. Do you think you can keep nadi Jase proper and kabiu for the duration? This is unavoidable timing. And highly unfortunate. But it might be an excuse, if Jase-paidhi were to take to mourning. Perhaps some human custom of retreat. Would it be appropriate for him to take ill?"
God, he wished he could say yes. He felt sick at his stomach, from sheer imagination of the Atageini lord visiting the apartment, ahead of television cameras. A formal reception. Jase, distracted as he was apt to be, in the mood he was bound to be in. He felt very sick at his stomach.
A broken-legged assassination? Dared he?
Maybe they could just slip Jase a sedative. A dose of mildly poisonous tea.
But no, no, then the press would blame the lord of the Atageini. The headlines would banner an assassination attempt.
Perhaps he should take a double cup of the tea himself, and not have to face this lordly inspection tour.
But that would leave everything in Jase's hands and that was impossible.
"I'll decide," he said to Tabini, "based on what I hear from him after he's talked to his mother. But, in all honesty, aiji-ma, I fear I can't offer a method. Unless we claimed some custom on the ship. Which — could answer to most anything, I suppose. If it were necessary."
"I would have avoided this timing," Tabini said. "But trying to delay it could make a worse problem."
"One can't tell my uncle no," Damiri said, hands folded in her lap, very proper, very demure. "He wishes to see you, nand' paidhi. And one believes this business on the peninsula has made him that much more aggressively determined."
Bren drew a quiet breath, getting the full picture: Saigimi's wife and daughter, relatives to Geigi, had fled to the Atageini's neighbor, Direiso.
And Tabini entertaining lord Badissuni, the one Banichi said would be dead by fall.
"Not," Damiri went on to say, "that my uncle will grieve for Saigimi. Nor that he will be displeased to see Direiso discomfited — but he will set great store on being here, nand' paidhi, and in public, and — One relies on your discretion."
Tabini shifted in his chair and propped his elbow on the arm, his forefinger across his lips as if, unrestrained, he would say something incredibly indiscreet.
The paidhi could well imagine. Tatiseigi would rather double-cross lady Direiso only after she'd knifed Tabini.
Failing that, was Tatiseigi's move a public display calculated to annoy hell out of Direiso and to promote Tatiseigi's importance in the aiji's court — as uncle to the aiji's now publicly revealed lover, and unwilling host to two humans?
There was the sticking point.
But meanwhile they'd be civilized. That was the essence of things: civilization. They were the lords of the Padi Valley: Tabini's house, the Atageini, Direiso's Kadigidi, and a handful else.
Tatiseigi of the Atageini and Direiso both had encouraged the peninsular lords to rash actions, which Saigimi had undertaken most rashly of all. Saigimi's death was the means by which the aiji pulled the chain — hard — and reminded them all where authority and force rested.
Hell, it did beat war as a solution.
What he thought of saying was, It's rather brave of Tatiseigi to walk in next door, considering he's a logical target.
What he also thought was, God, what kind of Guild members is the old man going to have with him, and what if they break out guns, and shoot at Tabini?
What he did say was, "Would it be wise of me and nand' Jase both to relocate permanently and allow your uncle possession of the apartment, Damiri-daja? Would that solve the problem? Or we might move for a few days —"
"No such thing!" Tabini said. "Let him be resourceful in his lodging!"
"I'd by no means wish —"
"No, nadi, let my uncle be resourceful," Damiri said more quietly. "Nadi-ji, he will manage. With the aiji-dowager's good grace, perhaps he will lodge directly downstairs: he is no stranger to her premises."
"Is she here? I thought she was bound for Malguri."
"Oh, grandmother is returning here," Tabini said. "She will arrive tomorrow. I'm sure she stayed on in the western provinces for exactly this show — I mean the matter of the lily porcelains, not lord Saigimi and that nonsense. She'll amuse herself with the party.
Then she'll be off to the east in all haste, mechieti and staff and all. So she promises me." Tabini had settled back in the chair and folded his hands across his stomach, both elbows on the chair arms, feet out in front of him. "If you have wondered, nand' paidhi, yes, regarding lord Saigimi. That is all I will say on the matter. And all you should reasonably ask. Grandmother will of course be furious with the affair in the peninsula and very busy with phone calls all about the Padi Valley. But you have such a marvelous capacity to soothe her tempers, Bren-ji. — And I do trust you to do so."
"Aiji-ma, I have no such influence, I assure you —"
"Oh, don't be modest. She dotes on you. You're civilized. That's her word. Civilized. And you have, she says, such lovely hair."
He tried not to flinch or to blush. Tabini was amused and Damiri's mouth courted dimples one after the other. "So my security tells me," he returned dryly, and was immediately aghast at himself. He'd twice now gotten direly reckless with atevi lords, but he drew a laugh from Tabini, who'd, in point of fact, challenged him.
In truth, the paidhi sat outside the system of lords and inheritance, and couldn't possibly challenge Tabini in any sense that mattered.
"My uncle will not lodge with you, nand' paidhi, be assured so." That from Damiri-daja, and quite soberly. "Only be very careful. I ask you, be careful of him. He is in some ways delicate in constitution and more delicate in sensibilities."
"He's in all ways an unreasonable old man," Tabini muttered. "It would be indecorous to file Intent on him, but, gods less felicitous! He does try me. — How, by the by, is the peninsular society this season? I hear you took advantage of lord Geigi's hospitality."
"He was a very good host and wishes you well, aiji-ma."
"Well he should. Well, well, I'll have your report of him. I trust you have it in preparation."
"My staff does, yes, aiji-ma."
"The plague of Uncle descends tomorrow —"
Tomorrow! he thought, and did not say.
"— barring rain," Tabini said, "which I am told prevents the paint from drying completely enough. And the weather report is clear. — If you charm this impossible man, Bren, I do swear I'll make you a ministerial department."
"I doubt that I can do so much." The relationship between the Atageini and the aiji's house was already such that the aiji himself couldn't stall the man or his questions, and probably many of those questions (except the peninsular assassination) involved two humans guesting on the property.
He'd enlist the staff to keep Jase and Tatiseigi separated. Saidin might do it. Saidin might have far more luck than the aiji of Shejidan, in that matter.
No one, it seemed, could tell uncle Tatiseigi no — and, technically speaking, he supposed no one could do so legally in the matter of the impending visit. What he had heard of the shouting in the hall indicated something truly beyond Tabini's control, unless Tabini wished to take extreme action.
The old man was going to push that situation. And Tabini. Which was one thing considering interpersonal relations. But this was two clans involved. And Damiri.
Wonderful place for two humans to be standing. And impeccable timing. Jase wasn't up to this.
"One can still wish for rain," Tabini said. "So. Bren. — What about Geigi?"
Now it came down to the matter on which the aiji wished to be informed — officially speaking. It came down to Geigi's good reputation and the reputation of all the workers in that plant and in all the other labs and plants he'd visited, who relied on him to represent their work, their good will, and all the things they'd tried to demonstrate to him. He tried to collect his scattered wits and represent them well.
"So when will it fly?" Tabini asked him bluntly. Early on, it had been, Will it fly?
"Ahead of schedule, by some few months, aiji-ma, I still maintain so, until and unless we find some problem that delays us the months we allowed for such events."
"But as yet no such problem exists." Tabini rested his chin again on his hand and looked satisfied. "It might have arisen, understand. Now such an interruption is far less likely."
He was so busy thinking of engineering details he didn't take Tabini's meaning immediately.
Then he did.
"Saigimi did not want that ship to fly," Tabini said. "He viewed it as a means to bring down the government. He was wrong. His assassins did not reach Geigi and they did not reach the director of Patinandi Aerospace. So you had a very quiet trip."
"Yes, aiji-ma."
"You noticed nothing untoward."
"No, aiji-ma."
"Good," Tabini said. "As it should have been."