“Those are Jase-aiji’s!” Cajeiri exclaimed.
“That they are. One has no idea what is going on, young gentleman. But they are, indeed: Polano-nadi and Kaplan-nadi.” The lift went up again, and now more passengers were debarking. Jago turned up at Bren’s side, and he said, “Kaplan and Polano, Jago-ji.”
“Indeed,” she said, and then the lift started down again.
With another man. Jase. CaptainJason Graham—fourth highest authority on the starship Phoenix,onetime ship-paidhi, the ship’s emissary to Tabini-aiji.
“Jase-aiji!” Cajeiri said.
Then, beside Jase—three significantly shorter persons appeared as the lift lowered and the angle shifted.
Two boys. One girl. All in station-style dress and light jackets, one gray, one green, one blue, all with a single duffel, and with a few other bags about their feet.
“Gene-ji!” Cajeiri said, restraining a gesture into a small movement. “And Artur and Irene! May we open the doors, nandi? May one go out?”
“Jago will go out and bring them aboard,” Bren said. “Let us not create a problem for security. They will have baggage, one is sure. Jago-ji, assist Jase.”
“Indeed,” Jago said, and moved past him to reach the steps and the door. It opened, and Jago and several of the dowager’s young men exited onto the pavement.
Cajeiri just stood there, all but shivering, it was so hard for him to stand still.
Security in their operation, Bren thought, had just gone up several notches in firepower, if not in knowledge of the planet. Kaplan and Polano were armed to the teeth, not to mention the instrumentation on the armor. He had no idea what its capabilities were, but he knew they were considerable.
If the wearers failed to succumb to the flat expanses around them.
They were all old acquaintances, from two years on the ship together, and Jase’s own visit to the world. Cenedi recognized them, no doubt he did, and so would Nawari and several others of the dowager’s young men.
Protocol, meanwhile, did not leave a captain of the starship out on the concrete looking for an official face. Bren went to the steps and jumped down to the pavement, close to the shelter of the bus and beside Jago. He raised his arm in a very un-atevi wave.
Jase spotted him and waved back—came toward them, with Kaplan and Polano and his young charges . . . human kids, wide-eyed and looking around at everything.
Doing very well, however. No one had thrown up.
“Bren,” Jase said—and then did the atevi courtesy and bowed. Bren bowed. The youngsters bowed, tentatively, and then looked up in surprise—one might even say—dismay.
“Hi,” Cajeiri said from the bus steps. “Come in!”
The youngsters looked uncertain. Then the tallest boy, himself about shoulder-high to Bren, dark-haired, on the stocky side, waved a hand, sketched a bow and grabbed the assistance-bar to climb aboard. It was a very tall step for him. He made it, and there he and Cajeiri were, the human boy looking a few inches up at Cajeiri.
“Gene-ji,” Cajeiri said happily. “Hi there!”
“You grew!” Gene said. “You’re as tall as Bjorn!”
“Bjorn’s not here?”
“Couldn’t come. He’s in school. Well, so are we, but not his kind of school. Artur, Irene—” The other two were blocking the doorway, staring up. “He’s as tall as Bjorn, isn’t he?”
“Get aboard,” Bren said to the last two. “Everybody inside. Take the first seats on the left, facing each other. The aiji-dowager and a high-ranking lord are across the aisle. Be very polite! Bow. Low.”
They didn’t acknowledge the instruction. They just went scrambling up the steps. Irene, smallest, and straight from a long free fall, had to be pulled up the steps.
“Jase,” Bren said, still amazed. “So good to see you! Are you running security on this trip, or what?”
“This is my vacation,” Jase said. “You invited me, remember? God, it’s good to see you. Sorry about the surprise. But the Council wanted to provide their own security.”
“Backup is more than welcome! We’re headed for Tirnamardi.” Baggage was down, a lift full of it that they had not planned for, and the dowager’s young men were moving to get it and load it onto the bus. “Get aboard. My security doesn’t want me standing out here. Or you. Jago-ji!”
“Nandi.” Jago was right by him, assisting him up, and Jase. Polano and Kaplan moved with a soft, motorized whine. Polano somewhat awkwardly managed to get a toe on the step. Then, quite amazingly, he just rose up on that one foot and took the next step. Machine-assist. Balance-assist. Kaplan did the same, and one had to get out of the way, because they took up a lot of room.
“Just stand there,” Jase said, which left them no view of the shuttle and the trucks. But the rest of the baggage was coming aboard, with the dowager’s young men.
Pretty damned amazing, Bren thought, and had to give a second look at Jase, to believe it.
“You’re not sick,” he said.
“Medicated to the max,” Jase said, and patted his pocket. “’Til the brain adjusts.” He spotted the dowager, and Tatiseigi, and bowed, deeply. “Nandiin. One is surprised and honored. One apologizes for the children.”
In fairly good Ragi, that was. The dowager nodded, pleased. The children, having gotten toward the middle seats, were trying their best to keep quiet, but there were excited young voices, and Tatiseigi was eyeing them with unguessable thoughts about it all.
“The two in armor, nandiin,” Bren said, “are Kaplan-nadi, and Polano-nadi, Jase-aiji’s personal bodyguard, very responsible men, who always accompany him.”
“You are very welcome, Jase-aiji,” Ilisidi said, of course in Ragi. “Lord Tatiseigi, he is one of the ship-aiji now, and a very astute young man, who has come to supervise the children. One hopes Tirnamardi can accommodate another guest with minimal difficulty.”
“Honored, nandi,” went both directions, and Tatiseigi looked a little less stressed.
Thump! went the door, then, the last of the hand baggage manhandled down the aisle without hitting anyone, and other baggage stowed below, in the baggage compartment of the bus.
Thump! went the ferrule of Ilisidi’s cane. “Let us be moving, nadiin,” she said, and Jago relayed it to the driver, who put the bus in gear.
“Well, well,” the dowager said cheerfully, bracing her cane against the sway of the bus as it turned, while Jase and Bren stood and held their ground. “We shall reciprocate the hospitality of the ship-aijiin, with your kind assistance, Tati-ji. You are very welcome, Jase-aiji. My great-grandson is holding forth with his young associates. Come sit with us.”
“One is honored, nand’ dowager,” Jase said, in very passable Ragi, and gave a second bow to Lord Tatiseigi. “We are not of close acquaintance, nandi, but you are known in the heavens.”
“Indeed,” Tatiseigi said—impassivity had settled over his face, but he seemed to like that information. “Tirnamardi will find room for any guest the aiji-dowager recommends. You speak very well, ship-paidhi.”
“One is very flattered, nandi,” Jase said with a perfect little bow, and slipped quite deftly into a seat, leaving space for Bren, next to Tatiseigi.
“A very great asset,” Bren said, thinking, Geigi.Jase, incongruously, had a slight southwest coastal accent, and one knew the source.
“One does not suppose the children are as studious,” Ilisidi said.
“No, nand’ dowager,” Jase said—hit exactly the right form of address for their relative ranks. Geigi’s coaching in that, too, Bren was quite sure.
“How is your stomach, Jase-aiji?” Ilisidi asked.
“Much better,” Jase said with a little bow, and Bren said, “They have found a medication that works.”
“Excellent,” Ilisidi said. The bus left the concrete and turned onto the gravel.
There were suppressed human gasps from the middle seats—children, with faces pressed to the bus windows as the scenery swung into view, trees, and grass. A quiet shhh!
They were under way, collected, gathered, oriented, and headed back to the train.