A lengthy silence, then a drawled: “You have an extraordinary forwardness of address, paidhi-aiji.”
“You also have that reputation, nandi, as a man who does not cling blindly to precedent. The dowager values this quality, and suggests it should not be wasted.” He saw that look of thought. It was not the time to lose it. “The plain fact is, I amhere, nandi, meeting with you in confidence, and accurately relaying the dowager’s objectives, which are favorable to a negotiation at this point, thus preventing Guild action from destabilizing the Marid. That is the bottom line.”
“What is her offer?” Machigi asked bluntly.
“Alliance,” Bren said with equal bluntness. “Association. New times, new thinking, horizons not limited to this earth.”
“Access,” Machigi said, “to the orbiting station.”
“That willhappen, nandi,” Bren said. “One has no doubt of it, granted association exists.”
“You do not ask further into your own associate’s whereabouts or welfare.”
“A personal matter. I am here in an official capacity.”
“Indeed,” Machigi said, leaning back in his chair. “Yet you represent the aiji in Shejidan.”
“By courtesy, I represent only his grandmother, who doeshowever, hold independent association in the East.”
Machigi looked to the side, to one of his bodyguard, and back again, eye to eye and steadily. “ Independenceis an interesting position to hold.”
“Propose it, nandi. Independence of the district within the aishidi’tat. One does not say it will be rejected. But,” he added sharply, “in order to claim such a position for the Marid, you need an authority equal to the dowager’s authority over the East.”
“She was challenged as recently as this fall.”
“With notable lack of success, nandi. And the East is both hers, and an independent district, with its native rights and prerogatives intact.”
Another lengthy silence. “Have you dined, paidhi-aiji?”
“I have not, nandi.”
Machigi snapped his fingers. Servants moved into view. “The paidhi-aiji and his aishid will have the guest suite tonight. His company on the bus may be housed in the east wing with whatever equipment they choose to offload.”
Crisis. Bren gave a deep nod. “A courtesy much appreciated, nandi, but the bus is self-contained, and my company on the bus is prepared to attend their own needs. One hopes, as negotiations proceed, I shall have other instructions from the aiji-dowager, for their comfort, but for right now, despite your generous gesture, my indications from the dowager suggest my request would not be honored. They are, once we quit the bus, much more under her direct command.”
A little steel flicked through that glance. “It is blocking the drive, nand’ paidhi. Our suggestion is simple expediency.”
“If you request the bus moved somewhat, I am sure we can comply with that very quickly, nandi.”
“Let it stay,” Machigi said with a wave of his hand. “But where is this trust, nand’ paidhi? This offer of association?”
“I have yet to convey your reply to the dowager, nandi. Everything comes from her. When she wishes my company to stand down and leave the bus, it will stand down. But as for myself and my aishid, we are extremely appreciative of the hospitality of your household.”
Machigi gave a dark little laugh and stood up. “Follow my servants, and join us in the dining room in an hour. Your aishid may attend your baggage.”
“Delighted,” Bren said, stood, and bowed in turn. In fact he was delighted—delighted there hadn’t been a shootout. Delighted Machigi hadn’t pulled that trigger. Delighted Machigi had sounded as intelligent—though also as dangerous—as reports said he was.
And that bit about attending the baggage—no lord in his right mind would have his belongings taken off that bus, put into the hands of servants of a hostile house, and taken into his room. Two of his staff would handle it all the way from the bus to the rooms, while Machigi’s staff watched with equal care to be sure that clothes were allthat came into the house.
The servants gestured the way to the side door. Banichi and Jago went with him, Tano and Algini split themselves off to attend the matter of the baggage, and Bren walked just behind the two servants who led the way—a short distance, he was glad to see, and up only a single flight of stairs. He knew where the front door and the bus were from here, at least.
But that was notthe knowledge that was going to get them out of this.
The servants opened the doors to a magnificent suite, mostly in sea-green and gold, with pale furniture, and led the way through to a fine bedroom, even with its own bath, an uncommon amenity.
“Very fine, nadiin,” he pronounced it.
“Would you care for a fire lit in the sitting-room, nandi?” one asked. “It will grow chill before morning.”
“Please do,” he said, and looked at Banichi and Jago, just a questioning glance to know their opinion of the arrangements.
Banichi simply nodded. No question every room was bugged to more and less degrees, right down to the bath. He didn’t need a word on that score. He simply sat down in a comfortable chair, rested his booted feet carefully on the footstool, and waited, while Banichi and Jago went into that statuelike quiet of their profession, just watching the servants at work.
The fire came to life. And other servants came in, carrying a modest amount of luggage, with Tano and Algini in close attendance.
“Set it in the bedroom, nadiin,” Jago said, “with thanks. That will do.”
There were bows, very inexpressive faces gave them a last lookover, and the servants retreated out the door.
At which point they would of course be fools to say everything they were thinking.
“How are things outside, nadiin-ji?” he asked Tano and Algini.
“Well enough, nandi,” Algini said, and that little formality said he was likewise thinking of bugs. “We have passed word where we are and wished them a quiet night.”
“One hopes it will be,” Bren said, and cast a look up at Banichi and Jago. “Well done?” he asked in the alien kyo language.
“Yes,” Banichi said, and Jago echoed the same.
Tano and Algini had gained a little of the language. They had made earnest efforts at it. And of all means of communication they had, that was the only one no code-cracker could manage.
But one had no desire to frustrate their hosts. It was only a confirmation: he had done what he could, gotten them this far, and God, he wished he could discuss Machigi frankly with his aishid, but their vocabulary in kyo didn’t extend that far, nor did it bear on the intricacies of atevi psychology. All he had for comfort was that one yes: they were alive, they were not too likely to be poisoned at dinner—which his aishid would not share—and, disturbingly enough, he had some indication Machigi held some answer to the othermatter he had come out here to pursue, namely what had happened to Barb.
He couldn’t ask. Ethically and in terms of simple common sense, he couldn’t make Barb an issue in this.
“One had best dress for the occasion,” he said, and got up and went to the bedroom. The packed clothes had been layered with fine silk, which kept them from being too disreputable on being shaken out. The court coat, being heavily figured brocade, had not suffered much. The shirt was a little the worse for its trip in baggage, but with the coat on, the wrinkles would not show; and a fresh ribbon for the queue always improved a gentleman’s appearance: those came carefully wound on a paper spool.
Beyond that—the boots could use a dusting. Tano saw to that; and to everyone else’s; and ribbons were renewed, Guild leathers dusted with a prepared cloth. They all went from slightly traveled to ready for dinner in a quarter hour, with no conversation to speak of, except a light discussion of the recently dry weather and the quantity of dust, plus the likelihood of rain, since there had been clouds in the westc all disappointing material for eavesdroppers, but far from surprising. Guild could convey information by the pressure of fingers on a shoulder, and Bren had no doubt information and instruction was passing that he did not receive. He knew the all-well signal, and got it from Jago as she helped him adjust his shirt-cuffs.