A system grown up over time. A man sitting in that office for four decades, moving Guild personnel here and there by a process that had no check and was a matter entirely of personal judgment. . . .
It was a terrifying amount of power, in the hands of someone who saw how to use it.
“How can the Guild have been so careless?” Algini asked, rhetorical question. “Senior members have known him for years. He is quiet. Efficient. The wits find him amusing. He has become an institution. His assistants–he makes those assignments, too–do things exactly as he likes them done. A minor officeholder may also do a few favors for his own clan, and one would not call it improper. Careful selection of Guild members, to support a lord of Ajuri–or Damiri‑daja–who could question it?”
Oh, my God.
“This is terrifying, Gini‑ji.”
“Less so, now that we know where to look. –Damiri‑daja may or may not know the situation. It is within Tabini‑aiji’s discretion to tell her. –We have been, for the last while, reviewing our own associations within our Guild, personally informing those we know are reliable, and trying not to make a mistake in that process that would alert Shishoji‑nadi that we are targeting him.”
“Do you think he set up the mechanism that supported Murini?”
“Very likely.”
“And the last two assassinations within Ajuri . . . were they at his direction?”
“Difficult to say–this man is exceedingly deft–but we suspect so, yes. Shishoji had, in the prior lord of Ajuri, a man who would support Murini. When Murini fell, and the Ajuri lord decided to change sides and take advantage of his kinship to Damiri‑daja, we suspect Shishoji feared the man would tell Tabini‑aiji everything once Tabini’s return to power was certain. That lord died quite unexpectedly. Komaji immediately stepped in, then began to behave peculiarly. He attached himself as closely as he could to the aiji’s household, did not spend much time in Ajuri, was trying to find a residence in Shejidan.”
“Possibly he understood his situation. Possibly he did not participate in the prior lord’s assassination.”
“It is entirely possible. Komaji may have known from the start that he had information that could, if he dared use it, place him in Tabini‑aiji’s favor–if he was absolutely sure Tabini was going to survive in office. Unfortunately for him, Damiri‑daja had staff that were not only a threat to Tabini‑aiji–they were watching Komaji. We suspect he was trying to gather the courage to make a definitive move toward Tabini‑aiji. And when the Marid mess broke wide open, and the aiji seemed apt to make an agreement with Machigi that might bring the aiji‑dowager more prominence–Komaji decided it was the time. Possibly he feared the aiji‑dowager’s closeness to Tatiseigi. He was not invited to the signing of the agreement with Machigi precisely because Tatiseigi was– and it was the aiji‑dowager’s choice. This upset him–possibly because he saw his opportunity to break free of Shishoji was rapidly dwindling, and he feared he was under Shishoji’s eye. He went upstairs to the aiji’s apartment. He was refused admittance. And at this refusal, in high panic and absolute conviction Tatiseigi and the dowager meant to separate him from the aiji and from his grandson, he broke down in the hallway. His nerve failed him, he no longer trusted his own bodyguards, and when the aiji, beyond banning him from court, sent Damiri‑daja’s bodyguards back to Ajuri along with him, Komaji had nowhere to go but Ajuri. Once there, he remained non‑communicative, secretive, and ate only the plainest food, prepared by one staff member. Then he made his last move, toward Atageini lands, with a handful of Ajuri’s guards, not his own bodyguard. –Did anyone of that company survive, Jago‑ji?”
“They are, all of them, dead, short of Atageini land.”
Algini nodded slightly, acknowledging that. “Not surprising.”
“Where was he going?” Bren asked. “What was he trying to do? Do we know?”
“We surmise that in the failure of all other options,” Banichi said, “he may have been seeking refuge here, in the house of his old enemy Tatiseigi, whose staff might get a message to the aiji‑dowager, to his daughter, or to Tabini‑aiji himself, offering what he had to trade. Likely he hoped that one of them would sweep him up and keep him alive in exchange for the information he had. He was not a brilliant tactician.”
One could almost find pity for the man. Almost.
“Nadiin‑ji. How long has this . . . dissidence in the Guild been around? Did this Shishoji organize it?”
No one answered for a moment. Then Algini said:
“That is a very good question, Bren‑ji. How long–and with what purpose? It began, we think, in opposition to the Treaty of the Landing.”
“Two hundred years ago?”
“We think it was, at first,” Banichi said, “an organization within the newly formed Guild, a handful who were opposed to the surrender of land to humans. Originally they may have hoped to lay hands on stores of human weapons and simply to wipe every human off the earth. There were such groups in various places, and there was that sort of talk abroad. It did not happen, of course. No one found any such resource. Then, as we all know, the paidhiin were instituted. They were set up to be gatekeepers, to provide peaceful technology, not weapons. It is, perhaps, poetic, that you, of all officers of the court, have been such a personal inconvenience to the modern organization, Bren‑ji. The paidhiin were, from the first human to hold the office, the primary damper on such conspiracies.”
“One rather fears that I have become their greatest hope,” Bren said, feeling a leaden weight about his heart, “and a great convenience to them–in bringing atevi into space and putting the shuttles exclusively under atevi control . . . if their aim truly was to take the station.”
“No,” Jago said.
“In the station program, Bren‑ji,” Algini said, “you have linked atevi with humans, economically, politically–even socially. You are their worst enemy. You brought reality home to Shishoji, we firmly believe it. You negotiated the means to put humans and atevi into association, which his philosophy called impossible. You negotiated the agreement that put Geigi in control of weapons they are only just beginning to appreciate. The Shadow Guild planned, naively, to get into the atevi section, convince atevi living up there to wipe out all humans, overcome the armament of the station and the ship, and seize control of the world, using the station. This is, demonstrably, not going to happen. It would not have happened, even had Murini succeeded in getting teams onto the station. Shishoji knows, now, that amid all the technology the humans have given us, their most powerful weapons remain under the control of one incorruptible ateva, in the person of Lord Geigi. They could not succeed. Not on the station. Down here . . . Down here is another matter.” Algini glanced in Banichi’s direction. “I have asked myself, Nichi‑ji, whether we could have seen it coming, and I do not think we could. Shishoji found changes proliferating and the world changing faster than he could adapt. He found himself in danger of irrelevancy. But there was also unease, in ordinary people both wanting and opposing the space program, at a time when there was considerable doubt as to human intentions–especially given the interim paidhi.”