His guests were excited and a little embarrassed at clothing they had never worn. There was a little laughter, and the short hair was very conspicuous, but then Artur’s red hair was conspicuous on its own. They turned and admired one another, excited and nervous about it all. True, they were not quite in the latest mode, but Geigi had dodged any conflict of house colors, had everything absolutely not controversial, all beiges and browns and a shade of green and one of blue that just was not in any house. There was lace enough, and Gene said he was afraid he would get his cuffs in his food.
It really was a trick, he realized, and he had known it forever: he showed Gene the knack of turning his hand to make the lace wind up a little on his wrist, and the rest copied it.
They were very pleased with themselves. And they laughed.
But just then a little rumble sounded in the distance, a boom of thunder—and they all froze and looked toward the east.
“Thunder,” he said. He had tried to tell them about weather. He remembered that. Weather was coming in, and he did hope if it rained, it would not rain a lot, and that it would clear by morning, so they would not be held indoors.
They all went to the window, to look out. But the thunder had been in the west, and the window faced east.
It was getting dark, on toward twilight.
“Come,” he said in Ragi. “Come. There is a window. Likely we can see it.”
He led the way out to the hall, where, at the end, there was one big window, and he led them to the foot of it, by the servants’ stairs—and indeed, they could see the clouds coming in, a dark line on the horizon to the left. Lightning flashed in that distant gray mass, and after a moment, thunder sounded. “It is quite far,” he said. “It will be here by full dark.”
“Is there any danger?” Irene asked.
“Being outdoors, yes. If it strikes down to earth, it goes to the tallest things.”
“The house?”
“The house has protections,” he said.
“Those people are out there by the gate,” Gene said.
“They will have a wet night. But they will know what to do. They all will be safe. Come. We can go downstairs. I shall show you from the front door if I can persuade security.”
They went with him, excited, and Antaro talked with house security, and said they wanted just to look out the door, for the guests’ benefit.
“They agree,” Antaro said, so they all went, down all the way to the front door, and Great-uncle’s major domo opened it for them, while Great-uncle’s security stood by.
Just in that little time, the bank of cloud was closer, and the wind had begun to blow.
“Oh!” Irene said, as a gust came at them, and lightning obligingly flashed in the cloud.
“Neat!” Artur said.
“This is so good,” Gene said, and walked out onto the porch, with the wind tumbling his hair and blowing at his coat and his lace.
They all did, and the wind blew in their faces, and the thunder rumbled.
“It smells different,” Irene said.
“It smells like rain,” Cajeiri said in Ragi. “You shall hear a storm your very first night!”
“It’s different than the archive,” Irene said, and flinched as lightning went from cloud to cloud. “They don’t show us the planet.”
“Who doesn’t show you the planet?” Cajeiri asked.
“We’re Reunioners,” Artur said. “We don’t get the same news as the Mospheirans. As the atevi, too, likely.”
“Why not?” Cajeiri asked, while the wind blew at them, and the guards behind them.
“It’s not our planet,” Irene said then. “We’re not supposed to know things.”
He heard it. He thought about it a moment. It was not right. It could not be right.
“I never heard that,” he said. “Who said that, nadiin-ji?”
“We don’t know,” Irene said. “But we know Mospheirans get their news. We don’t.”
He had to askabout that. He had to ask nand’ Bren, and nand’ Jase why that was. And he had to ask mani if she knew about that.
“Well, now you have seen a thunderstorm,” he said. “And we should go in and let the major domo close the door.” He led them back inside. The door shut, and he debated between the utilitarian lower hall, where there were interesting things, and the gilt upstairs. “I shall show you the main floor. You saw the upstairs foyer. But I shall show you the breakfast room, and the sitting room.”
“New words,” Artur said. “Irene, get out your notebook.”
“I have it,” Irene said, patting her pocket. And said it again in Ragi. “One has it, nadiin-ji.”
“You have to say,” Cajeiri said reluctantly, “ nand’Cajeiri, nadiin-ji, when you are in my uncle’s hearing. And mani’s.”
There was a sudden silence. A little hush, and he was embarrassed.
“It is the world,” he said. And in ship-speak: “It’s the world.”
“No,” Gene said, “Captain Jase told us. He explained. Nand’Cajeiri. We can’t forget that. And your great-grandmother is nand’ dowagerand Lord Tatiseigi is nandi.And we bow.”
“Nadiin-ji.” He gave a little bow of his own, conscious that, just a year ago, he had been no taller, and they had shared things, and there were no guns and guards all about them. It wasdifferent. It was very different. He would never again be just nadi-jidown here, or up there.
They had tried more than once, last year, to work out those forbidden words—man’chi, from his side, and friend, from theirs. Love. Like. All those things he was never supposed to say to them, and they were never supposed to say to atevi—well, they were never supposed to talkto atevi, which was why they had met in the tunnels, but they had found a way to talk, and they hadtalked, and they had an association they all believed was real.
And they were back to that, with his aishid standing next to him, and with Great-uncle’s guards nearby, and him having to remind them—that if they were going to continue as associates, on the world or in the heavens—he would have to be obeyed.
“Nandi,” Artur said. And Irene said, after thinking about it, and with particular emphasis and a polite little dip of the head: “Nandi.”
Thunder boomed, outside. There was silence after that. They were waiting, looking at him. Hegave the orders.
“We shall go upstairs,” he said, not sure their offering was man’chi, with no way to tell if it was friendship, no way to tell what they were trying to be, or whether he was pushing them away—but they tried. “Nadiin-ji, I shall show you the main floor, the parts you missed, and then we should be in the dining room before mani and Great-uncle.”
• • •
They werefirst into the dining hall, waiting with a little light fruit juice, when Bren came in, and Jase, with just Banichi and Jago.
“Well!” nand’ Bren said in ship-speak. “Nand’ Cajeiri, nadiin. A very nice appearance.”
“One is gratified, nandi,” Cajeiri said, for his guests, who copied what he said, a faint echo.
Jase asked, “How do you like the weather? They have arranged a storm for us.”
“Nandi.” They all said it, and nodded in just the right degree. “Interesting, nand’ paidhi,” Gene said, very properly. “We went down and looked . . .” He ended with something quite unintelligible. Artur choked and looked away, trying Cajeiri could tell, not to laugh, which would be rude. But Irene clarified for Gene: “Looked out from the door, nandi.”
“Security approved,” Cajeiri provided quickly.
“One indeed heard so, young gentleman,” Bren said.
By the tapping sound echoing in the high hall outside it was clear now Great-grandmother was coming, and Great-uncle, and the bodyguards took their places, standing by, as mani’s and Great-uncle’s bodyguards arrived, and went to their places at opposite ends of the table. They all stood up as mani and Great-uncle came in, and servants positioned themselves to help with the seating.