Read Deceiver: Foreigner #11 Online
Authors: C. J. Cherryh
Deceiver: Foreigner #11 (28 page)
Geigi’s stationside major domo, Barati, came to him, bowed, and asked, with brimming excitement in his old eyes, whether the lord would care to take tea in the sitting room.
“Yes, Bara-ji,” Geigi said warmly, and then to Bren: “Will you join me, Bren-ji?’
Staff, for one thing, wanted the lords contained, amused and out of trouble for the hour. One couldn’t blame them for that. “Delighted,” Bren said, and went with Geigi to the sitting room he had lately occupied with Baiji. There they settled down, while the house quietly resounded with footsteps. Banichi and Jago stayed outside, and would be very busy right along with Geigi’s guard and Geigi’s four station staff, checking things out in the transition from Tabini’s men.
That was going to take hours. And a lot of tea.
But at least it was quiet in the house, and the likelihood of anything turning up to threaten them was not at all high, considering the handoff from Tabini’s men. The serving staff proudly arrived with tea and cakes from the supplies brought with them.
And he and Geigi had a lot to talk about, now that the matter of the estate seemed settled—not imminent business, nothing so dark as that; but the state of affairs on the space station—the likelihood of the promised visitation by the kyo, the aliens they had met in deep space; the state of affairs in his own stationside apartment, and the cherished staff he had left there, staff that had passed all but unnoticed in his lightning-fast transfer from the ship to the downbound shuttle. How were they? Well, it seemed, and happy enough. There had been a marriage on staff, and a baby was expected—fine news, but the couple and the baby very much needed passage to the world again, to present the new arrival to the respective clans.
Their talk wandered on to the station’s decision to build and drop the mobile stations: the decision to set up the cell phone network on the Island—a means of collecting observations from Mospheira during Murini’s takeover, and a means of reassuring and distracting a nervous Mospheiran population that they were still protected from a now-hostile and dangerous regime on the mainland.
It had worked. Mospheira had been utterly—and completely—distracted by the phones. They were protected from mainland troubles. But they walked off curbs into traffic, arguing with their girlfriends.
A sigh. And now the cell-plague threatened the mainland.
It could be useful here and there. He was starting to admit that. He still thought it too potent a change to loose in atevi society, wholesale.
Which he didn’t say. Geigi was the consummate gadget-addict, even more than Tabini, and that was saying a bit.
And while they discussed station politics and station gossip, Kajiminda quietly took on an actual semblance of its former life.
Then Geigi’s security reported the arrival of a number of lightly-armed Edi folk from further out on the peninsula, seeking permission to establish a surveillance post in the farther extent of the orchard and out by the estate wall.
“Yes,” was Geigi’s answer. “Coordinate with them, nadiin-ji.”
And hard upon that good sign was not-so-good news from the majordomo: there were certain valuable artworks missing. They were still taking account, but the absence of a famous porcelain was significant.
“The scoundrel,” Geigi muttered, over a renewed cup of tea. “The unprincipled young scoundrel. That is a famous piece! Did he think I would never notice? Or did he not know what it was?”
“I think we may surmise the district who dealt with him,” Bren said grimly. “And someone there undoubtedly knew its value. Or possibly some individual not in the district paid the price for it, someone who did not attend to its provenance.”
“Or my nephew forged the attendant documents.”
“Either way, one is certain the Artists’ Guild will have a certain interest in the matter, and I have some confidence in the integrity of that guild, throughout. One understands they came under some pressure during the Troubles, and did not buckle. They may turn it up.”
“One will prepare an inquiry,” Geigi said grimly. “Banditry. This is banditry. And Kajiminda, I am sure, has not lost so much as others. Except my sister. Poor woman. She was not stupid, Bren-ji, except in her doting on the boy.”
“Her protection did not improve him,” Bren said with a shake of his head, and then they fell to discussing the Marid, the rise of Machigi to the lordship over the region, and his ambitions—not least of it certain things he had gathered from files, who was now in charge of what township, and who was in favor and who not.
Banichi came in with another report, along with two of Geigi’s bodyguard, detailing the findings, progress in stocking the necessities for the estate, and the meeting with the leader of the peninsula’s Edi residents—who were armed, setting up camps around and about, and with shelters and camouflaged blinds.
It was not a regulation Guild operation, to say the least.
“Irregular,” was Banichi’s judgement, “but not easy to infiltrate, nandiin.”
“How is the interface, nadiin-ji?” Geigi asked his own security, who had come in with Banichi, and with a shrug, his head of security said: “Information flows, thus far, nandi. We have no difficulty.”
Excellent news, that the Guild and the irregulars were communicating. Banichi left. Jago, Tano, and Algini had not put in an appearance in hours, and did not reappear by supper, which turned out to be a one-pot dish, but savory and a great deal of it—admirable under the circumstances. The cook was one of the local Edi women, who reported she had told the paidhi’s staff exactly her secret recipe, and had substituted two spices at their request.
That was the terrifying problem—the herbal possibilities in the countryside were unusual, traditional cooks were not chemists, and had no idea which were poisonous to humans. Bren ate cautiously, a few spoonfuls, then a period of conversation and concentration on the bread, then a few more, pleading that he was full, thank you, nadi-ji. So very good and rich, one dare not overindulge . . .
Dessert was a cheesecake and compote, and he, for once, ate the whole atevi-scaled serving.
And retired for an evening of nothing but light and pleasant converse with Geigi on boats, local fishing, and the markets.
He was aware, however, keenly aware, that his bodyguard was
not
relaxing. At a certain point, toward dusk, Banichi and Jago arrived in the sitting room with Tano and Algini, who went out into the hall and disappeared, to rest, possibly, but more likely to be watching the irregulars, the house staff,
and
Geigi’s guards.
not
relaxing. At a certain point, toward dusk, Banichi and Jago arrived in the sitting room with Tano and Algini, who went out into the hall and disappeared, to rest, possibly, but more likely to be watching the irregulars, the house staff,
and
Geigi’s guards.
Security was not going to have a restful night.
Bedtime arrived, and Geigi’s Kajiminda majordomo showed him to a room where staff had put his luggage. His next day’s clothing was pressed, hung, and attended to, and two of Geigi’s staff showed up to assist him with undressing and to attend to necessities. He took a fairly quick bath—having no desire to be caught in the bathtub by a general alarm, which was more and more likely, counting the hour and the likelihood the Marid was highly annoyed at their reclaiming the place.
His second concern, and the one that went to bed with him, was Najida. He was sure his security would tell him if anything were remotely wrong there, or if they’d detected anything to worry about. But they had spent the whole day waiting for the other shoe to drop here at Kajiminda, and he was sure there was one due to drop somewhere—given the shift of Tabini’s forces down toward the township.
So he stared at the ceiling now, and fretted. No distracting conversation. Nothing to do. Nothing he
could
do but get up and wander the halls, annoying staff, who were working in shifts through the night trying to set things to rights.
could
do but get up and wander the halls, annoying staff, who were working in shifts through the night trying to set things to rights.
He had quietly brought his pistol with him—had it on the bedside table, and Jago had, also very quietly, when his staff at Najida was packing, included one of her jackets for him, which had added considerably to the weight of the suitcase. He had hung that on a chair right beside the nightstand, just in case, and was glad to have it. If shooting did break out, the paidhi-aiji would at least have that between him and a body-aimed bullet, freeing his staff to take care of themselves. Among his thoughts tonight, given this new breakout of civil unrest, was that a bulletproof vest his own size would not be a bad item to own and take with him when he traveled. Uncomfortable—yes. But he kept getting into these places. Or places he went kept erupting into chaos.
And
he
was supposed to be the peacemaker.
he
was supposed to be the peacemaker.
Jago came to bed, finally, well after midnight, tired and trying not to wake him.
“Good evening,” he murmured, rolling over.
“You should not be awake, Bren-ji,” she said.
“One was awake thinking on our situation,” he said. He had no wish to imply his insomnia was anything she could cure, or she would scant other needful things. “How are we doing out there, Jago-ji?”
“Very well so far,” she said, peeling off her shirt. “We are in contact with Najida, which is spending a quiet night. We have spoken with Edi folk in the encampment, which has no difficulties tonight. The aiji’s forces in Separti Township have had a less restful evening, but they may have put some of the Southern Guild to inconvenience.”
“One is delighted with that.”
“It is the plan,” she said, “for the aiji’s forces to keep our enemies busy and pinned down in the township, if possible, for at least the next number of days. They will be encouraged to flee southward or to sea, not in our direction.”
“An excellent plan,” he said. What they least wanted was to have their enemies move in on Najida.
But there was by now, one hoped, considerable Edi presence in the field across from his estate and up on the train station road.
“One would appreciate just one restful night,” Jago said, and hung her gun within reach of her side of the bed, which was between him and the door.
“How is the returned staff?” he asked. “Are they in good mind about this risk?”
“They are determined,” Jago said, and sat down on the bed, turning toward him. “Likewise the Edi in the camp. The Guild does not approve of amateurs, understand. But these—the better name is irregulars—are not entirely in that class, and we should make certain agreements with them in areas where they know their resources. Algini intends to make a firm point of this with the Guild. We cannot bring them into our operations, nor would they accept it, but we can create a mode of reasonable cooperation, within certain difficult districts. This is long overdue. Since the Troubles, it has become more important. This is all secret, of course.”
He withheld comment. Rare that even Jago discussed Guild policy. It was certainly not the paidhi-aiji’s business to pass on it, though she apparently considered it need-to-know. He mentally labeled that piece of information as privileged, like their cook’s secret recipe, and let it rest.
For what else they did in bed, absolutely no discussion was necessary.
11
I
t was exciting, Cajeiri had thought at first, after nand’ Bren left, to know one was on one’s own—almost. Except for Great-grandmother’s guard.
t was exciting, Cajeiri had thought at first, after nand’ Bren left, to know one was on one’s own—almost. Except for Great-grandmother’s guard.
Cajeiri had gone down to visit nand’ Toby and Barb-daja. And, with the staff, he had helped them move up-stairs to the suite that nand’ Geigi had now vacated in favor of his own estate. It was funny how everybody kept changing rooms. Even nand’ Toby thought it was funny.
But after that, nand’ Toby and Barb-daja were busy settling in to the upstairs suite and trying to talk to the servants, and then they were sitting about and moping and worrying about their boat being down in the harbor and about nand’ Bren being over at Lord Geigi’s estate where it was dangerous. They did play a game of cards with him. But they moped until dinner.
Moped. That was another of Great-grandmother’s words, and a state of being he was to avoid. Only bored people moped, Great-grandmother said, and only boring people could be bored.
And
he
was not to be boring.
he
was not to be boring.
Great-grandmother herself was alternately busy and out of sorts, though she did not mope. Great-grandmother herself
never
moped. She did play a board game with him after dinner, but won, persistently, so that was no fun. One always knew when Great-grandmother was on the hunt, and she was now, and just did not let him win.
never
moped. She did play a board game with him after dinner, but won, persistently, so that was no fun. One always knew when Great-grandmother was on the hunt, and she was now, and just did not let him win.
So he and Antaro and Jegari taught his two new bodyguards to play poker when they got back to the room, and then proceeded to win a few hands. That was good. Veijico and Lucasi were behaving much more respectfully after he had had them out working with other Guild all day.
They were respectful for a while. Then they started winning, and were not polite about it. He grew disgusted, and took all his guard out into the hall and down to see if Barb-daja and nand’ Toby were doing anything interesting, but there was no sound from that suite.
The only place still alive at this midnight hour was the kitchen, so he went there, back behind the dining room, and hung around Cook, who, with his staff, was cleaning up. He wanted to see how that worked, since it was the only entertainment going, and how the kitchen ran. There were treats. There always were if you hung around the kitchen: there were spare pastries from supper, and Cook said he was making up a snack for the guard change, when the guards on the roof came down.
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