I leave it to my grandmother and to you as to where to entertain these children. My son will celebrate his birthday here in Shejidan, where both his parents can properly congratulate him. He may at that time avail himself of the museum and the natural history exhibit as well as the services of the Bujavid staff, provided that we shall have been able to arrange adequate security.
Careful thought persuades me that my wife’s decision, which we wish understood, is entirely her own, has moved the household expediently toward the best source of auxiliary security available.
The new arrangement will entail a hairdresser, and added security, and we are confident this is the best solution.
This letter is not for the official archive of our correspondence. We request you burn it and preserve no word of it.
You may of course rely on the red car and all official assistance in dealing with the visitors.
In caring for my son, care also for your own safety and my grandmother’s. These are unsettled times. But when have they not been?
Deep, deep breath. He read it again to be sure of the nuance. And put the letter back into the cylinder and the cylinder into his most secure pocket, to have it dealt with by his aishid.
His problem. Tabini was giving himthe children. He had to refocus.
He gathered up his work, had the attendant notify whoever of his bodyguard was at the door at the moment, and walked out.
Banichi smoothly intercepted him.
“The shuttle has launched from the station, Bren-ji,” Banichi said, before he could say anything. “It is on its way.”
• • •
He waited until they got upstairs, into the foyer of their own apartment, and only Narani was witness. Narani took his coat, and his case of papers.
And offered the message bowl, in which there was one cylinder he well knew.
Cajeiri.
“I shall read this,” he said, “in my office. Banichi-ji, nadiin-ji, if you will be there.”
“Yes,” Banichi said.
They walked back to the office. Bren gave them Tabini’s letter, with its cylinder, then sat down in his work chair, opened Cajeiri’s cylinder, unrolled the little paper and flattened it under a heavy glass designed for that purpose.
It said, To Nand’ Bren, from Cajeiri,
I am very happy. I am coming to visit you and mani as soon as you send for me. I am supposed to be in mani’s apartment, but she is busy in meetings. Will you come get me until she can?
PS. I have to take Boji with me. He eats eggs. About four a day.
He looked at his aishid. “The boy is still at home. He wants to come here now. His father’s standing order is that whenever he wishes to come here, I should not delay him. Banichi, Jago—go get him. Quietly. One does not know what the situation is over there.”
“Yes,” Banichi said.
Tano and Algini stayed, and Banichi and Jago shut the door behind them.
“Likely we shall be housing the human children until the birthday festivity,” he said, “and Cajeiri will have Boji with him—one hopes, withhis cage. We may be somewhat disrupted, but we will manage. Please advise Cenedi of whatever of the situation he might not have heard. About Boji, among other things.”
“Yes,” Algini said. And added, “We shall arrange for the red car, for the spaceport, when the shuttle is ready to land. Either we or the dowager will need to pick up the children.”
“Do that, Gini-ji.” He let go a slow breath, thinking of that conversation he had had with Tabini, about problems in the household, and about his own subsequent conversation with Damiri. The dowager hadhad tea with Damiri, the morning after—but as to the outcome between those two, his aishid had not been able to tell him. So either Cenedi didn’t know what the two women had said to each other—or wouldn’t say, even to them. “As to what may be happening next door, with Tabini-aiji and Lady Damiri, one has no idea. One hopes for a good outcome.”
“We are surprised the boy is sent out on such short notice,” Tano said. “Shall we contact the aiji’s guard and ask the reason?”
“Discreetly,” he said.
“You will wear the vest, Bren-ji,” Algini said. “Lord Geigi has moved a shuttle off-schedule to provide a shortened time frame—for any plans Ajuri might make.”
“He has said so?” He was astonished. Shuttles delayed at times, on technical issues. They rarely rushed a launch to be early.
“On our advice, Bren-ji. We requested he move the schedule. He said he would attempt it. He has put Paisienup in the flight order, ahead of Shai-shan.There are no passengers listed on the manifest for Paisien.There are four listed for Shai-shan.The manifests will stay as they are, so bothlie.”
Five days early.
Early. To throw off any plans Ajuri had laid, and disrupt any mischief.
“One understands,” he said. “We have the legislation as settled as we can manage. We are assured it will pass. We can go wherever we need go.”
If Tabini could somehow find the time alone with Damiri to sort out the problems within his household, all to the good. It might be the best timing—at least to have Cajeiri elsewhere.
In the meanwhile, given the boy suddenly on hishands, and the dowager rearranging her plans, there were things to do.
It started with phoning his own clerical office, commending the runners who had served him today, and asking the director to come meet with him in his apartment.
Tea with the worthy gentleman, who had served him under some very dicey circumstances, including during the coup.
He would instruct the man to lay down a preliminary official schedule that looked—at least until they were out at the spaceport picking up Cajeiri’s guests—as if the paidhi-aiji were doing business as usual.
It was a minimal sort of ruse, one they could adjust by the hour, and it might end up being one of several such schedules he let leak, but he thought it prudent.
He also had to arrange with Lord Dur, quietly, to have that very respectable gentleman attend the Tribal Peoples bill on its course through the legislature, and advise his office of events.
Then he notified Bindanda that the young gentleman was dining with them, that the dowager might be. And that they needed a supply of eggs.
• • •
He had only time to draft the first half of his message to Dur before he heard Narani open the front door.
That would be Banichi and Jago, with the young gentleman in hand. There might or there might not be baggage. If there was not, if the young gentleman were quitting his residence in a Situation, his staff might have to go next door a little later and collect it from Tabini’s staff.
Well, it sounded, out there, that there was something more arriving than the usual luggage cart, something that rolled and rattled in an odd way. He guessed what thatmight be, even before he heard a sudden blood-curdling shriek in his foyer.
Doors opened and closed and staff stirred from every recess of the servants’ halls, startled out of whatever they were doing.
He left his letter unfinished, capped the inkwell, and blew out the waxjack before he rose and opened his office door.