Read Deceiver: Foreigner #11 Online
Authors: C. J. Cherryh
Deceiver: Foreigner #11 (26 page)
He had seen it, in his time on the ship. He had seen it with his human associates. “Like myself, and Gene, and Artur. They are my associates, nandi! Nobody will say they should be, but they are, the same as Jegari and Antaro, who are Taibeni, and people think they belong back in Taiben, but they are
my
associates, and Gene and Artur and Irene would get along with them very well. I know what you mean.”
my
associates, and Gene and Artur and Irene would get along with them very well. I know what you mean.”
Geigi smiled at him. “So you do, young lord, so you do.”
“One wishes one could just make everybody do that down here!”
The smile became a gentle laugh. “One does indeed. One only wishes one had fruit trees up there.”
He saw something else about Geigi. “I bet you could have one in a pot.”
Geigi laughed, and then looked thoughtful, and very thoughtful. “Young lord, that is a very interesting idea!”
He passed the slingshota to Geigi, who scored on a potsherd, before Geigi passed it back and said that probably they had defied the precautions too long as was, and that they should go back in so his bodyguard could get down off the roof.
So they did.
He understood a lot more about Geigi, then. He had things to think about when they went back inside and Geigi went back to his work.
One of the first things he thought was that, within his aishid, two would understand perfectly everything he and Geigi had said; and two, who had come out at the last to stand and look worried about it all, would be completely appalled.
He was less bored now. But no less frustrated with what he had. He had a crystal-clear idea of the way his own aishid could work—that one-table idea Geigi had talked about. The thing that did not work on the planet.
Except that Geigi and Lord Bren and Great-grandmother were doing something of the like, inviting the Edi in, so maybe it was not a stupid idea for the world.
The boy had been exemplary for days. The worst he had done lately was entice sensible Lord Geigi to violate security precautions. The whole house had stood to attention while Lord Geigi and Cajeiri had destroyed pottery in the garden; but with security all about, on the roof, on the wall, and about the premises—at least it had let young Cajeiri—and their visitor from space—blow off a little steam.
Toby and Barb had taken their own little turn at freedom, coming upstairs to the sitting room, which was, if only psychologically, far more comfortable than the basement. They had procured a deck of Mospheiran-style playing cards, so staff reported, and were pleasantly engaged.
The dowager was doing a little reading, after a spate of phone calls and coded requests. Her staff was resting.
The paidhi’s bodyguard was resting again, too, since the two escapees to the garden were safely back inside—while the paidhi was still sifting through names, names, names and whereabouts and histories and genealogies and business arrangements . . . and reading through the first pages of Baiji’s sorry account of the last few years. Baiji’s writing—God! Every line was
I
, I-this, I-that, and I-thought and I-felt, and damned little information. There were asides, in which Baiji described, to his own credit, one was sure he thought, that he had planted fruit trees in the back of the orchard. That he had enlarged the dining patio. That he had built a new stairs on the dockside. He had built an elaborate gazebo in his mother’s memory. He seemed bound to list all his credits, never mind the information they were really after.
I
, I-this, I-that, and I-thought and I-felt, and damned little information. There were asides, in which Baiji described, to his own credit, one was sure he thought, that he had planted fruit trees in the back of the orchard. That he had enlarged the dining patio. That he had built a new stairs on the dockside. He had built an elaborate gazebo in his mother’s memory. He seemed bound to list all his credits, never mind the information they were really after.
The account finally got to a visit from a representative of a trade office from Separti Township, and the proposal, convolutely related, for a further meeting.
That
had been the foot in the door. The trade organization in question had Marid ties. They had talked finance—clear that Baiji had a very weak grasp of that subject—and cited references from various south coast companies, which Baiji claimed not to remember, except for one vintner. God! Hardly a nest of espionage there. But there was, buried deep within the account, mostly implied, the notion that Baiji had been scared the world was ending when Tabini had been replaced by Murini, and had been very relieved to receive this contact with people who represented money.
had been the foot in the door. The trade organization in question had Marid ties. They had talked finance—clear that Baiji had a very weak grasp of that subject—and cited references from various south coast companies, which Baiji claimed not to remember, except for one vintner. God! Hardly a nest of espionage there. But there was, buried deep within the account, mostly implied, the notion that Baiji had been scared the world was ending when Tabini had been replaced by Murini, and had been very relieved to receive this contact with people who represented money.
Money. Something which Baiji had been spending wildly in his first few months in his stewardship. One had not seen the monument to his mother, but there was talk of marble columns and siting the thing up on a scenic cliff with a permanent light. One could only imagine.
And who had built it? He had not hired the Edi. He had called in a company from Separti, who ended up presenting him with more bills than he had planned, and said that supplies were short because of interruptions in shipping—there was a deal more about Edi engaged in piracy and sabotage, but not, of course, the servants, who were grateful to him for his good management and his looking after their interests.
Amazing. Baiji had the cheek to say he had thought his staff was being infiltrated by spies. And he had secured a loan “at advantageous interest” to support the estate and keep it “in the style my uncle would approve” despite the downturn in the general economy during the Troubles. He had arranged to buy fish from a company in Separti, when Kajiminda had not been paying its debts to Najida for that commodity—a detail which he had somehow not written down—did he think the lord of Najida would miss that little detail?
Baiji had made all these brilliant moves and secured money which he put on interest “at the bank,” while paying interest to the trading company which had lent it to him—“to encourage good relations” because the trading company had “very advantageous ties” to “people in power.”
Of course they did. The account mentioned names, none of which meant anything to him, but which his staff would be looking up in a different database.
He was building up a good head of blood pressure when Ramaso came knocking at the office door to report there were nineteen people at the train station wishing to see Lord Geigi.
Two blinks. Three.
When one’s mind had been deep in Baiji’s illogical account, one found just a little difficulty focusing on that statement.
“Staff, nandi,” Ramaso said in uncharacteristic excitement. “Kajiminda staff. They are coming back!”
My God! “Have they transportation, nadi?” Najida ran the local bus service, for all this region. It was, originally, why they
had
a bus. But it was too good a piece of luck to be landing in their lap. Could they
trust
these people?
had
a bus. But it was too good a piece of luck to be landing in their lap. Could they
trust
these people?
Sending Guild out to investigate Edi who were on their way home after what they had been through—that would not be the most politic thing to do, even if the Guild and the Edi had trusted one another.
“They hope Najida will send the bus,” Ramaso said.
“They will not accept Guild surveillance, Rama-ji; but how shall we know all these people are uncompromised?” Threats against relatives, hostages taken, held under extreme duress—were not the only possibility. “One is extremely distressed to say so in such happy circumstances, but one can think of no better way to breach Najida’s security.”
Ramaso took a deep and sober breath. “Indeed, nandi. But other Edi can judge them. The Grandmother of Najida, with her people—she will get the truth.”
“Would she consent to go meet them? Ask her, Rama-ji, and if she will, arrange to have the bus pick her up in the village.”
“Indeed,” Ramaso said, and bowed, and hurried out.
Which left him worrying about the Grandmother’s safety. But where Aieso went, her wall of young people went with her, and any Edi would-be assassin would be daunted by her mere presence.
Well, he thought—at least one hoped so. It was the best they could do. They had to rely on the lady.
So he went out and down the hall to advise Geigi of the event personally.
“News,” he said when the servant let him in, “Geigi-ji. Nineteen of your former staff have arrived at the train station.”
“Excellent!” Geigi exclaimed, getting up from his chair, and immediately called for his coat and his bodyguard.
“One has requested the Grandmother of Najida to meet them on the bus,” he said. “In the interests of security.”
Geigi was not slow. He froze for a moment, absorbing that, then: “One will meet them here under the portico, then, with your permission, nandi.”
“Absolutely,” he said.
“I shall have to go home today,” Geigi said. “And our plans have to accelerate, Bren-ji. Your house can absorb no more guests, and they will want to go there immediately.”
“A dangerous situation, potentially very dangerous.”
“One has no doubt of that. But one must, Bren-ji, one simply must do it. Our plan must go into action, to that extent—depending on what these people have to tell me. I have no choice but to do this. They expect to be able to go home.”
And bringing these people under Najida’s roof—or declining to do so—both courses held risks. On the one hand—bringing them in would expose them all to the danger Geigi intended to deal with, that one of them was a threat. On the other—it would insult the Edi to treat this as anything other than a happy event and a homecoming. Geigi saying
I have to do this
had a whole wealth of meaning, and much as he would like to argue with it—there was no argument.
I have to do this
had a whole wealth of meaning, and much as he would like to argue with it—there was no argument.
“The wreckage is at least cleared away from your front door,” Bren said, “so the workmen report, and work has begun on resetting the pillars. Najida workmen come and go there, but the place is otherwise under the aiji’s seal, with his guards. One believes the dowager has been in contact with Shejidan on that score. They can be urged to leave as you come in. They must be.”
“Must be, indeed,” Geigi agreed.
“Supply—Outside of what the aiji’s men brought with them, there likely is a want of most things. And vehicles and communications. We have not arranged that. This has caught us all by surprise. We are not ready to have you there, Geigi-ji.”
“Now we shall draw on my own financial resources,” Geigi said, “which are not inconsiderable. If my staff feels safe to do so, they can go down to Separti and buy what we need, even a truck, if we may borrow transport from Najida to get that far.”
Rely on the Edi to check things out and to be sure of the security of the sources and the items from Separti, where they knew there were Marid agents?
He was entirely uneasy about that, too. Guild could be damned clever at their work, and one had far rather rely on other Guild to figure out the likely ploys, when it came to high-level operators.
“One worries about this,” he said plainly. “One worries extremely, Geigi-ji. One is quite sure the Marid will try something when this news gets to them. They will have been embarrassed—granted they did not arrange this.”
“My aishid will be with me,” Geigi said with a little shrug. “For the rest—I shall simply trust my staff. I always have. Without them—there is very little point of my existence as the lord of Kajiminda, is there?”
“One can think of extraordinarily many points to your existence, Geigi-ji! Please remember that you are an associate the dowager and I and the aiji himself would be extremely grieved to lose. You are a target. You are a high-value target! If the Marid could take you out—”
Geigi laughed. “I shall take no chances, Bren-ji. I do trust the Edi. From the beginnings of my life I have trusted them. This is no different. I know their faces. I know their expressions, of all my people. I speak their language that they use among themselves. If I detect a problem, I shall signal you immediately.”
“I shall go talk to the dowager,” he said, “and hope we can arrange this smoothly.”
They had about half an hour or less to arrange things smoothly—somewhat more for the Guild inside Kajiminda to arrange their situation.
And the dowager was—depend on it—already aware of what was going on. Even smug about it.
“We shall manage, paidhi-ji,” had been her word.
There was a steely twinkle in her eye. Accordingly one had the sudden feeling that certain movements and timing were not wholly outside the dowager’s control—and yes, the aiji’s men would readily clear Kajiminda the moment Geigi arrived to take possession of the house. Guild would hand off to Geigi’s Guild, all quite regular, very quick, very quiet, and with no reference to the Edi wishing the inlander Guild generally in hell.
There were a thousand questions one would like to ask Ilisidi about her phone calls this morning, and probably Banichi and Jago could say
exactly
where those calls had gone, courtesy of Cenedi and Nawari—but Guild would talk to Guild, for any information that had to be passed, and meanwhile the paidhi had other things on his hands, imminent things.
exactly
where those calls had gone, courtesy of Cenedi and Nawari—but Guild would talk to Guild, for any information that had to be passed, and meanwhile the paidhi had other things on his hands, imminent things.
The bus, for instance, and the need to give specific orders, with nineteen people standing on the platform at the train station, exposed to snipers and God knew what until they could get there.
The bus was reported to have pulled out of its garage and indeed, the Grandmother of Najida
would
go out to meet the incomers, along with all four of lord Geigi’s Edi domestic staff. The bus pulled up under the portico, picked up those four, and set out on its run, kicking up a cloud of dust on the road in its haste.
would
go out to meet the incomers, along with all four of lord Geigi’s Edi domestic staff. The bus pulled up under the portico, picked up those four, and set out on its run, kicking up a cloud of dust on the road in its haste.
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