He knew the Kadigidi, one of the perpetual annoyances Tabini tolerated both as contentious neighbors and opposition leaders in the tashrid, in the name of, Tabini swore, the value of peaceful opposition —
And though he didn't know Saigimi by direct experience — Saigimi didn't occupy a seat in the tashrid — he knew the Marid Tasigin and most of all he knew the business of Talidi province.
Certainly Banichi did.
"Talidi," he said to Banichi, "is your province."
"Bren-ji. Don't doubt me."
"Banichi," he began to say, and then knew salads didn't remotely cover it, and the language didn't really have a word for lonely. You could substitute. But it didn't communicate. And neither could the paidhi, on what the paidhi felt Banichi's loyalty to be.
"Bren-ji," Banichi said, "I am notthe one."
"I know that, Banichi. I'm capable of being deceived, of course. But if I were —" A knot had arrived in his throat, and he flashed on that painful darkness as Banichi carried him to the floor. "— if I were, Banichi-ji, it's hardly necessary for you to go to such trouble. I've no association outside Tabini's but to you and Jago."
He'd disturbed Banichi. Clearly. "Not to us, paidhi-ji."
He was in a dark, self-destructive humor all of a sudden — emotional, and not knowing why. "To Tabini, oh, yes. And to you. I stick like glue. You'd have to kill me to get rid of me, you know. We're like that."
He'd never seen Banichi show such a troubled expression. "Nand' paidhi, one has no such intention. I assure you. But you have no man'chito me orto Jago. Which I'm assured you don't feel, anyway, nadi. So this is nonsense. Is it not?"
"Who knows what we feel? Maybe I do feel it, Banichi. If I'd shot you, I'd have been very upset."
"One is certainly glad to know you'd wish otherwise, nand' paidhi. And I would have been professionally embarrassed. You scared me."
That, from Banichi, of the Guild he was from, was an intimate confidence.
"But you are not," Banichi insisted, as if it still troubled him, "of my man'chi. Nor, I hope, physically attracted to me — which is your other choice. Jago, on the other hand — does not entail necessary loyalty to me. — Or does it, among humans?"
They were entering far too deep a subject for a man as tired as he was, as emotionally frayed as he was — and as guilty as he was, on that touchy private ground between Banichi and his partner. He was getting in well over his head, and suddenly Banichi, whom few secrets eluded, seemed to be implying a suspicion and questioning an event he couldn't forget, couldn't altogether ignore, and had no wish ever to admit had happened.
So he ignored the question at least, in favor of what he most wanted to know. "Where isJago right now?"
Ordinarily neither Banichi nor Jago answered such questions of whereabouts, except obliquely. He realized by now that it might be the policy of their Guild or of Tabini's service, to say nothing about business in progress, and that therefore Banichi would never give him a straight answer. But Banichi seemed to consider a moment, perhaps noting the sidestep he'd done on Banichi's question.
"At the airport, at the moment. No planes got away. No rail left the Bu-javid underground."
"Then Hanks can't have left the premises."
"One wishes that were the only conclusion. It's almost impossible to move fast enough to guarantee about rail on the perimeters, unless one is at least anticipating a movement or a direction. The damned hotels down below are a security sieve with connections to the rail."
"Hard to conceal a human."
"Less so a willing one."
"You do strongly think she knew them."
"One suspects so."
"Banichi, in my hearing, Hanks called out to her own security. She was distressed and concerned for their danger as well as her own. I heard it in her voice."
"That's a very great deal to hear in a voice."
One couldn't overgeneralize with Banichi. "Say — I know the woman personally, and I know my species and my culture. I recognized her concern and by the tone of her voice the concern was for them — she was warning them. Hardly logical for a conspirator — though humans have certainly been known to fail in logic."
"This one more than most."
"But not unwilling to fight for them, Banichi. That was in the voice. Take my word it was there."
"She may well have been startled. She may even have been opposed to the attack. Then either overpowered or simply pragmatic, if their man'chilies with the troublemakers. I suspect they went right down among the hotels, they went directly onto the public rail, and to a safe place somewhere in Shejidan, after which, with some less notice, they'll attempt to leave the city. Willing, she could pass as a child quite easily. A little large for a sleeping child. That's why I say, willing. A family group on holiday. What police would question them?"
"The Bu-javid could equally well have swallowed her. Some apartment, some lord sympathetic —"
"True. But less likely. Very few of the dissident lords would act openly against the aiji's declared interest, unless something happened that seemed to undermine the present order. It's a short list of those who would dare under other circumstances. It's even remotely possible someone seeking favor with Tabini misapprehended and thought disposing of the woman would quiet the waters. Certainly the list of those she's annoyed would be a much longer list."
He sat down on his bed, exhausted, to pull off his boots — and remembered, suddenly, and now that they were alone, the most critical question he had to account for. "Hanks' computer. Where is it? Do you know?"
"It apparently went with her. They've searched the apartment."
"Damn. Damn, Banichi."
"Indeed."
And one wished, earnestly wished, that one could exclude the searchers or even Banichi and Jago from those with a motive to take the computer and claim otherwise.
But one didn't ask. Instead, exhausted, he unfastened his shirt and peeled it off, with nothing to do with it, but Banichi took it and hung it on a chair.
"You'll make the trip with me to Taiben. Won't you? Won't Jago?"
"We certainly intend so."
He felt a little less shaky in that knowledge. Perhaps even willing to sleep once his head hit the bed — except the computer business told him he didn't have that luxury. He had to think what to do. What to report.
Or not.
"Tano and Algini are coming, too?"
"We purpose so."
Things on the mainland were as well handled as they could be, given the situation. As for Mospheira, he'd no notion what was happening there or what might be going on when the news of the landing and his treasonous assistance to Tabini spread across Mospheira — but coupling that with a warning that Hanks' computer was in foreign hands… God, how would thatlook? And what could they think?
Please believe me, Mr. Secretary, but it was some otheratevi group that snatched her?
Sorry about cutting you out of the landing, but I was preserving my credibility with the aiji?
Sorryabout Hanks. Sorry forHanks. I wish I could help her. I wish I knew where she is.
He unfastened his pants, peeled out of the rest of his clothes while Banichi lingered — but he wasn't focused on Banichi: his brain was beginning to sort wildly through other matters he couldn't lay hands on — like Barb, like his mother and Toby and his family.
He personally couldn't protect them, if somebody reacting to his treason decided to break through a less than enthusiastic security and attack his relatives, but he had friends in the State Department all through Foreign Affairs, friends well enough in the information flow and maybe — sometimes he thought so — well enough organized against administrative actions that some of them, some who had security clearances and some who even had covert operations skills might see a problem developing for his family beyond the usual nuisance groups and quietly try to handle it for him, if for no other reason than to to prevent him receiving a piece of news that might make him unstable in the field.