Deceiver: Foreigner #11 (43 page)

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Authors: C. J. Cherryh

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We alone hold this suspicion as of this hour, and now communicate it to the paidhi-aiji. We consider that if Lord Machigi will consider his own best interests he can be a force for stability in this whole region.
Therefore as the Guild meets to consider outlawry for the persons responsible for two illicit attacks, we direct the paidhi-aiji to go to Tanaja and work out an understanding between us and Lord Machigi, for the best interests of this district and of the aishidi’tat.”
Bren read it twice. A third time. Banichi, who had given it to him, stood in the aisle of the moving bus. Jago sat with a curious look on her face. Tano and Algini, across the aisle, had similar expressions.
It was Banichi’s handwriting. Banichi was the one through whom the message had come, in a brief trip to the rear of the bus, where the aiji’s men had their communications gear.
“Do
they
know about this?” Bren asked, first, with a shift of his eyes toward the rear, and the aiji’s men.
“No,” Banichi said. “But we are obliged to inform them unless you decide to put them off the bus. We cannot operate at diverse purposes.”
“Jago-ji.” Bren handed the note to Jago, who lost no time reading it. She immediately passed it across the aisle to Tano and Algini.
“We cannot afford a disturbance in our ranks this close to our objective,” Bren said. “I shall speak to the aiji’s men, ‘Nichi-ji, on your advisement. I hope I can make them understand the situation.” Banichi said nothing. Bren sighed and got up from his seat. “Nadiin-ji, baji-naji.”
“Baji-naji, indeed,” Banichi muttered, and when Bren left his seat to go back to Tabini’s senior officers, Banichi went with him. So did Jago. Lucasi got half out of his seat as Bren passed, his face troubled, but he sank right back again, probably at a cautioning signal from Banichi or Jago.
Bren went all the way to the rear. Damadi, senior of Tabini’s twelve, with his partner, rose to their feet to meet them, clearly understanding something momentous was afoot.
“A message has come, nadiin,” Bren said, “from the aiji-dowager and from Cenedi at Najida. Some Guild operatives near Najida, traced to the Taisigin Marid, kidnapped a local child, then set a mine in a civilian road. The dowager and Cenedi have appealed to the Guild Council, and a motion of outlawry is afoot in the Guild Council at this moment.”
Others rose, a looming wall of dark, aggrieved countenances.
“The dowager and Cenedi have a strong suspicion that this action does
not
in fact emanate from Tanaja nor from Lord Machigi’s orders. He is young. He has offended other Marid lords. We suspect he is being set up for an attack by internal Guild forces, which will then mean a power struggle in the Marid, a situation
not
in the aiji’s interests. We have an answer as to why that truck we are trying to find has proceeded so deliberately.”
There were very, very somber looks at that statement. And he was not done.
“It is not in the aiji’s interest to have the Marid end up a headless district, under worse leadership. More, in my judgement, you will not well serve the aiji by informing him of our action. Officially informed, he will have an official involvement, which will invoke a storm of regional interests, none of help to this situation. The aiji-dowager, again without officially informing her grandson, has asked me to go to Tanaja and confront Lord Machigi personally with this theory. In her name, and in mine, we will let him deal with the individuals responsible for this situation and stabilize the Marid. The situation is beyond delicate. What we are doing will not be public knowledge unless it succeeds. Should we fail, Tabini-aiji’s administration will not be in the least involved, except to declare that we were lost in a hotpursuit effort to retrieve my brother’s wife, and let him take what action he will take. So this places you, nadiin, in a very delicate position, considering your man’chi, and we are no longer on the mission on which we started. I ask you to disembark the bus and go back to Targai to protect Lord Geigi, or to Najida to protect the dowager and the heir, but not to go back to Shejidan—the aiji himself must not seem to be party to this. My respects to you, nadiin, and I shall order the driver to stop at your request.”
He bowed. He started to retreat.
“Nandi,” the officer said.
He turned about.
“You will need communications,” Damadi said.
“We can manage the equipment, nadi,” Banichi said, “if you will do us the courtesy of leaving it.”
Damadi said somberly, “One asks that you keep the bus rolling for a space, nandi, nadiin, while we discuss this matter.”
Tabini’s men were not agreeing to be let off. There was hope, at least, that he would not have to take his bodyguard alone into a situation this dangerous. His stomach, which had sunk entirely when he had read the dowager’s order, grew still more upset with the notion there might be support for them—help that might have strings attached. They could not be sending messages back and forth to ask advice, not least because advice could not be given without involving Tabini. But wise heads were together back there.
And one lone problem in their situation stood on one foot behind them, leaning on a seatback, looking at them with anxious eyes.
“Nandi?” Lucasi asked faintly as Bren passed.
One lone problem whose immediate concern had just dropped to the very bottom of the pile, along with every other personal obligation. Along with Barb. Even with Toby. He held a position of trust for millions of people. He didn’t have the luxury of thinking of Barb. Or a stray young Guildswoman. Or a very confused young man who wanted a way out.
“We have been diverted, Lucasi-nadi, with extreme regret for the urgency of your situation. We shall pursue our course down this road, but if circumstances have taken your partner in any other direction, we cannot now pursue it. Our orders now come from the aiji-dowager. You may leave the bus and make your own way back to Targai.”
“One wishes to stay with you, nandi.”
“You have an assignment,” Banichi said. “Go to it.”
A deep bow. “Nandi, allow me to stay. Allow me to continue.”
“The mission has changed,” Bren said. “Take Banichi’s advice. Go back to Targai. And go ask Lord Geigi if he has a place for you.”
“We have lost everything,” Lucasi said. “We have nothing. Let me stay, nandi. Let me do whatever duty there is. One asks, one asks, empty-handed.”
“This is not a mission for suicides,” Banichi said coldly. “That intention has no welcome here. Go do that on your own recognizance.”
“One will take orders, nadi! One will do
anything.”
“Then get off the bus and walk back to Targai,” Bren said. “Talk to Lord Geigi. I shall count it a personal service. It is very likely Barb-daja was taken by some other clan, and matters have grown complicated.” He continued forward to the driver. “Stop here, nadi,” he said, before young Lucasi could find out anything or protest further.
“Nandi,” Lucasi said, bowed his head then came limping after them down the aisle, holding to the seats and railings.
The bus braked to a stop, the rumble and racket falling to what was, by comparison, a lingering and breathless silence. The door opened, at Banichi’s instruction.
“Go,” Bren said.
“Nandi.” With a bow of his head he ducked down toward the exit, limping, looking very young and pitiable at the moment.
Bren watched him go with painful sadness, but very little regret for the decision—not when the boy’s lack of judgement could jeopardize other lives, and the mission, and compromise the aiji’s integrity. There was one thing—one helpful thing the boy could do, put Geigi wise to the fact the bus was not coming back, so that Geigi would not be phoning Najida and putting sensitive information onto the phone lines.
Beyond that—
We are going to die, Bren thought, trying out the thought. I am taking Banichi and Jago and Tano and Algini into a situation I don’t know how to get us out of. And if we do survive this, that poor kid’s look is going to haunt me so long as I live.
He chanced to meet Algini’s eye. Algini nodded once, grim confirmation of his dealing. A sweep of his glance left met Banichi—with the same expression.
And in that same interval, while the bus was stopped, Damadi came down the aisle. Alone.
“Nandi,” Damadi said with a little bow, “we are with you. Your orders are the aiji’s orders.”
That many more men and woman were all in the same package. All at extreme risk. All his responsibility.
“My extreme gratitude,” he said. “Thank them. Thank them all—for myself and for my bodyguard.” If there was a chance of getting out alive if things went wrong—it was in numbers. It was in covering fire.
It meant losing most of these people, if he failed. They would try to keep
him
alive. And it was not a priority he wanted.
He leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Carry on, nadi. Mind any disturbance of the road surface. There was a mine today on Najida road.”
“Yes,” the driver said. He was himself one of Tabini’s men.
Bren straightened up again, caught his balance with the upright rail as the bus resumed its bumpy, headlong speed.
Toward Tanaja. Toward the largest capital of the Marid, a place he had never in his life wanted to see up close.
He sat down, and his bodyguard clustered together over in and around the opposite seats, talking in low voices.
Which left him to consider what he was going to do so as not to die, along with everybody else in his charge.
That meant communicating with Tanaja
before
taking this bright red and black bus full of Tabini’s Guildsmen deep into the Marid.
And that meant having something eloquent to say in the very little time Machigi might listen.
He didn’t have his computer with him on this trip. It, and all the sensitive information it contained, including reference materials that might have been useful at this point, were back in Najida. That was probably a good thing.
He had, however, a small notebook in his personal baggage. He got up, got that out, and settled down, extending the tray table for a work surface.
He wrote. He outlined. He lined things out. He went to a new sheet, and finally, as Banichi and Jago returned to their seats opposite him . . .
“One is appalled, nadiin-ji,” he said, “one is extremely distressed at the situation. One is willing to go, but the risk to my aishid is entirely upsetting to me.”
Banichi shrugged. Jago said, “The aiji-dowager has not done this lightly, and the support of the aiji’s men lends us a certain moral force, Bren-ji. The sheer number of us and the man’chi involved is considerable. We are gratified by their confidence in us.”
“Survival is a high priority in this undertaking,” Bren said. “Your own as well as mine—and that is not only an emotional assessment. Your knowledge, your understanding of situations in the heavens, among others, cannot be replaced in the aiji’s service.”
“Our immediate priority,” Banichi said, “is your survival, Bren-ji, and please favor us with the assurance you will
not
take actions contrary to ours. By no means rush to our rescue.”
He had done that silly thing, among the very first things he had ever done with them. They had never let him forget it.
“One is far wiser now,” he said, “and one offers assurances I shall not.” He moved a hand to his chest, which hurt with every breath. “I am wearing the vest, nadiin-ji, and shall wear it in the bath if you ask it.”
“You will not need to go that far,” Jago said, “if you use your skill to keep us close to you. Do not let them separate us, Bren-ji, or disarm us. If they attempt that, be certain from that point that they mean nothing good, and harm is imminent, to all of us. At that point, if they move on us, we must take action.”
“One understands,” he said. He took comfort in their presence and their calm, utterly outrageous confidence. He didn’t know where they got it, whether out of being what they were, atevi, and Guild, or out of the moral character he knew they had.
Their devotion, their emotionally driven man’chi, was his. He was absolutely sure of that. There was no division between them.
“I am going to get us out of this alive,” he found himself saying. “I need to contact Machigi himself. How can we go about this, nadiin-ji? Should you initiate the contact?”
“That would be advisable under most circumstances,” Banichi said. “We can do that, Bren-ji, Guild to Guild. We can attempt to get information in the process.”
“I need to know,” he said, trying to think through things in order, “if they are aware of the mine on the Kajiminda road and the kidnapping of the child. One assumes they are. I need to know if they are aware that the Guild Council is meeting on a question of outlawry. One assumes they have the means to know it.” The Marid Guild had been outcast, though not in legal outlawry, for months, as far as their being accepted in Guild Council . . . those members of the Guild who had been supporters of the Usurper were now, so far as he knew, Machigi’s, since Tabini’s return to power. That was surely
part
of what was driving Guild deliberations, now. “How close contact can they maintain with the Guild in Shejidan?”

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