“I have it ready, aiji‑ma.”
“Dur will present it. Tati‑ji, we expect you at dinner this evening. We shall discuss our strategy over brandy. We would expect that the paidhi‑aiji’s staff has prepared a dinner here, and that there might be sufficient for my grandson.”
That was to say, stay home. Take care of the boy and his staff. Keep him contained.
They were about to do something entirely outrageous and take the boy and his guests to a venue they knew had security problems, and the person who most fiercely protected the boy was driving this insane venture, for reasons she was not going to explain right now. He understood that part clearly. And that yes was all he could say.
“Easily, aiji‑ma. And we shall see to the parid’ja.” Whatever her plans, the dowager needed to know that the creature had become part of the arrangement.
“The parid’ja,” Ilisidi echoed him in a little dismay. And to her great‑grandson: “Was this arranged?”
Cajeiri put on a worried face. “My servants are with me, mani, and there would be no one in my father’s apartment to take care of him.”
Ilisidi drew a deep breath. “Well.” And cast a questioning look at Bren.
“Aiji‑ma, one is certain we shall manage. Whether he will go with us . . .”
“May he, mani?” Cajeiri asked. “He has his cage, Great‑grandmother! It is a very secure cage! It has rollers!”
Tatiseigi had no expression at all for the moment. Tatiseigi’s desire to move the young gentleman into his vicinity had been strong enough even to accommodate young humans, at least conceptually–perhaps imagining they, like the paidhi‑aiji, had acquired atevi virtues and could eat arsenic with abandon.
Boji, however, was surely another matter.
“My servants, mani, they know how to take care of him, so he is no trouble. He is very clean, Great‑uncle!”
Tatiseigi’s mouth opened. His expressionlessness showed a struggle to warm to the idea. A heartbeat later he said, “One can agree, Sidi‑ji, if you wish,” and he was committed to it.
Bren almost said, in the next breath, One is certain my staff could manage . . . in the thought that the steadiness of Tatiseigi’s nerves was going to be tested far enough, with Cajeiri’s guests.
But the dowager had already nodded. Cajeiri had heard the one and seen the other. And that was that.
· · ·
As many teacakes as he could eat, before a very good dinner, with nand’ Bren’s whole aishid and his own all at the table, and another dessert after dinner–that was last night; and Cajeiri enjoyed a really comfortable guest room with room for everybody in their own little cubicles.
And in the morning he could sleep late, with no tutor, no need to get up early, nand’ Bren had said, and it was such a quiet household–
Except for Boji, who wanted his egg. Boji started to make a fuss, out in the sitting area.
But Eisi had an egg all ready, since last night: he was always good about that. And Cajeiri just pulled the covers over his head, snuggled into abundant pillows, and fell back to sleep on thoughts that the shuttle with his associates aboard was flying through space, getting harder and harder to turn back. Pretty soon not even his father would be able to stop it, because it would be committing itself to the atmosphere.
When he did wake, very late, at one of Boji’s little shrieks, he scrambled out of bed in a sudden fear that maybe things were not going so well, and he had been out of touch for hours and hours.
He found all his aishid on the other side of the partition, playing cards in the sitting area, and his servants trying to hush Boji with another egg.
“Jeri‑ji,” Jegari said.
“Is there any news yet?”
“Regarding the shuttle, none that we know. But nand’ Bren’s staff is packing, so everything seems on schedule. He is in his office, and Banichi‑nadi says your great‑grandmother and Lord Tatiseigi are in the legislative session, so everything there is what they planned.”
He slowly let go a breath, relieved.
“Understand,” Lucasi said, “nandi, nand’ Bren’s aishid has given us some cautions, that we should bring all our gear, and that there will be very high security everywhere.”
“One is not surprised,” he said. His whole life was like that.
“And you will have to watch your guests, and report them to us, if there is any question at all. Your guests will not know the rules at all, nandi. And you will have to keep them safe.”
That was a scary thought. He did not want to think of having to watch everybody as if he were the one to tell on them. Their time in the secret corridors of the ship had been all of them hiding and playing pranks.
But they were right. They could not do that to his aishid, or to nand’ Bren’s, or to Great‑grandmother’s.
“One hears,” he agreed, less happy about the situation. It was an upside down arrangement. But there were dangers. There were always dangers. He did not entirely know where they would come from, but his own grandfather was a good guess, and there was still some fighting down in the Marid.
“Will you wish breakfast, Jeri‑ji?” Antaro asked. “Cook said that we should advise him when you might wish it.”
“One has to dress first,” he said. He was glad to change the topic. “But yes. Has everyone eaten?”
“We have not,” Antaro said.
He had been inconvenient for his own staff. “I need to dress,” he said to his staff in general, “as if my great‑grandmother could want to see me. She really might, today.”
· · ·
Breakfast was extravagant, with eggs in a wonderful sauce, and Cajeiri was already enjoying the excitement of an oncoming birthday, with a good many of the rules tumbled down and overset. He was to have his guests, and Great‑grandmother, and nand’ Bren, and his bodyguard; and Boji, and mecheiti . . .
He was to have his associates from the ship and they were going to be so impressed. . . .
Even if he had to be careful about the rules.
They all would be a year older. They would have grown up a little, too. He was a good deal taller, in just a year. And stronger.
And smarter. He had done things they would never imagine, in their safe life inside the station, particularly: things on the station rarely changed much, and there were no enemies. They screened everybody who got up there, so there was hardly any more secure place anywhere.
He was still anxious. His mother or his father could still change their minds. But his mother was going to be happier, having a staff again. Unless she got mad at Great‑grandmother and everything blew up.
Something could still go wrong in the legislature or there could be a security alert: there were a lot of people in the world who could cause a security alert.
But the shuttle was on its way, and once it set up on course, and once it really got moving, then it was harder and harder to change anything.
Once the shuttle started entering the atmosphere, it would all go very fast, and they would land, and then his visitors were stuck for fourteen days, or even longer. Nobody could send them back until the shuttle was ready to take them.
He was surprised to be going to Tirnamardi. The last he remembered of it, the front lawn had been a camp, with the hedges broken and a smoky smell over everything–but he was sure it was all nice now. And Great‑uncle was going to let them ride. He was sure nobody born on a space station had ever seen anything like a mecheita–and he was going to get to take Boji with him, and they would be amazed by Boji, too. It was going to be wonderful.
He was surprised by his great‑uncle. But Great‑uncle had been very easy to please ever since Grandfather had gotten thrown out of the court.