“Toby? It’s Bren. Do you hear me?”
Silence.
“Look, Toby. I have the aiji’s son, who is in my care, to whom I have made certain promises and I have responsibility for his welfare. Let her stew. Just let it go. Weather’s turning. We’ve already lost time. If we need to get you to the mainland we can do that. We can get you to the airport, if we need to.”
Silence.
“At least answer me, Toby, dammit. I don’t like to conduct business through the door.”
He heard steps, finally, approaching the door.
“Sorry,” Toby said icily, from the other side.
“Look. Just let her blow. I know this mode, forgive me. She’ll have her temper. It’ll run its course.”
“Don’t tell mewhat she’s like! I know her better than you ever did.”
“Fine. I’m sure you do. And ifyou do, get your coat and come on and let’s go fishing for a few hours until the weather turns. My staff can manage. We can put back in tonight and pick her up and she’ll be fine, whole thing forgotten.”
“No.”
“Toby.”
“Don’t tell me how to handle this! I’ve got a kid in the hospital and Barb’s throwing a fit. You’ve got the aiji’s son in your care. I understand. Just go ahead, take the boat out, I’ll get Barb back on this planet, we’ll talk it out, and we’ll all be fine. See you when you get back.”
“Got it,” he said, unhappy—deeply unhappy. He moved away from the door, addressed one of the staff, who had stood by worriedly during that exchange. “Kindly advise the aiji’s son that we are finally ready to leave, nadi-ji. Just that.”
“Yes, nandi.”
He went to his own quarters, back to his bodyguard, to advise them they were finally going, without Toby and Barb. He asked himself whether he ought to trust Toby to keep Barb out of trouble or whether he ought to deprive Tano and Algini yet again of what ought to be a pleasurable outing, to stay behind and keep track of his houseguests.
Hell, no, he said to himself as he passed the door. His staff deserved a little relaxation, and Barb’s vicinityc
He didn’t quite close the door. He heard running in the hall. Servants didn’t run in the halls.
This one did. And bowed, distressedly, out of breath. “Nandi. No one is there.”
“The young lord, and his companions?”
“We have no idea where they are, nandi. But no one remembers seeing them out and about since breakfast.”
“Go down to the dock, nadi-ji. Immediately. Find them and tell them stay where they are. We shall be right down.” He didn’t panic, he calmed himself with the expectation that, yes, bored youngsters had found a way out of the house, had escaped adult notice, and simply gone down to the dock to wait for the promised trip. All that was safe to do, perfectly safe.
The question was how long they had been waiting. Cajeiri’s capacity for tedium was very, very small.
He went immediately to his bodyguard’s room—they were set up with sound equipment over by the wall—“Nadiin-ji, the young gentleman has gotten bored and gone to the dock.”
Banichi, Jago, and Tano immediately stood up, and Banichi headed for the door without a word said. Algini removed his earpiece and laid it down, then got up.
“Nand’ Toby and his lady are still arguing,” Algini said.
“Let them,” he said. Algini wasn’t fluent in Mosphei’, that Algini had ever let on. Jago was the one who could interpret. Or deliver an emergency message to his brother. Hell with it, he thought. Toby was no help at the moment, having his mind on his fight with Barb. Let Toby worry about himthis round. “We shall just go down to the boat, and if the young gentleman is ready, we shall leave on the last of the tide.”
Algini picked up his sidearm as he moved, and they all five went out together. Ramaso was waiting anxiously at the door.
“The young gentleman has eluded us,” he said equably to Ramaso, “but is probably at the boat. This is nothing new. Are we provisioned?”
“Yes, nandi, provisioned last night, and ready to sail. Only the boat is not at the dock.”
“We shall manage. We shall go straight down, bring the boat in, and likely shall sail out immediately. If nand’ Toby asks questions or seems upset, say the name of my boat, and that should advise him where we are. He knows a very little Ragi. Barb-daja likely knows none but the word yes, and the word no. Use either, as you wish with her. Address yourself to nand’ Toby, who is much more reasonable, and should he wish to go to the airport and fly to the mainland, assist him. I will pay the ticket.”
“Nandi.” The servant who had slipped in behind Ramaso had gotten Bren’s outdoor coat from the closet and offered it. Bren exchanged coats, then with a parting courtesy to the old man, took Algini and left, calmly, in good order, and leaving the troubles of the day behind him.
Left them, that was, until he saw Tano sprinting back up the terraced walk toward them, out of breath by the time he reached them, and needing to bend to breathe.
“Nandi,” Tano said. “There is no sign of the youngsters and the boat is gone.”
“ Myboat?”
“The tender, nandi, that the staff uses. The boat was dragged out—marks are clear in the sand.”
His thoughts leapt all over the place—the youngsters had gotten to his boat, or Toby’s, let the little sailboat drift away, which could happen—an inconvenience. They might lose it, or it could be battered against rocks along some segment of the shore in the coming weather.
But there were much, much worse ideas.
“Is there another boat, nadi-ji? Can we signal my boat?”
“Jago has swum out to your boat, nandi, to bring it in to dock.”
God, the water would be cold as ice. He started down, taking the atevi-sized terraces with bone-jarring steps, and ran, as Algini and Tano ran behind him. He was almost in as bad shape on the downhill as Tano had been on the uphill by the time he reached the dock at the last, and had a view of Banichi standing out on the sand, looking out toward the water.
He ran down the steps from the dock, ran across the shingle out to where Banichi stood, Tano and Algini right with him.
Banichi looked in his direction.
“Is she aboard, Banichi-ji?” Jeishanhad a stern ladder, so it was possible for Jago to get aboard. He was relieved when Banichi said, “Yes, nandi.” And a moment later he saw the slight puff of smoke above the water as the engine started. The bow power winch went into action, hauling one anchor cable up. Then the other started up, and hauled away.
It was bad news. If the youngsters had been aboard, Jago would just have gone to the rail and signaled. Taking in cable took forever. He stood in the chill wind, waiting, watching as Jeishanbegan slowly to move, her anchors still drippingc not back to the dock—but over within hail of the Brighter Days.
He waited, shivering in the wind, and waited. He heard the loudspeaker clear to the dockside, as Jago queried whether anybody was aboard.
No answer. Nobody came to the rail of that boat. And the last of the tide was moving, rocks standing bare that at high tide were well-submerged along the margin, with far more beach than showed at high tide. Bren’s gaze drifted to the mouth of the bay, all that vast wooded shoreline, where, one could still hope, three youngsters, having realized they were no match for the tide, might have turned back to shore and gotten stranded. Not a one of them had ever handled a sailboat. But all they had to do was let the wind blow them straight across. There were fishing docks across the bay. There were boats out. They could get help.
They might be, even now, hiking to some phone where they could call.