“This just arrived, nandi.”
Not Shawn, which was the letter he had been waiting for. That would have been under Presidential seal, and in a diplomatic pouch, not a plain steel cylinder that meant the Messengers’ Guild had transmitted it.
That left few possibilities. Jase. Geigi.
He reached for it and opened it, extracted and flattened the message while Narani waited for a possible response.
It was from Toby. His brother, who lived aboard his boat.
Storms in the strait, he thought instantly.
God, are he and Barb all right?
Hi there, the typescript letter began. We’re fine, that first. We took a little bit of a beating two days ago, lost the antenna and a railing, not to mention both bilge pumps, which was the greater concern. We’ve just limped into Najida on the manual pump and they’ve offered help putting things to rights. We could make it back to Port Jackson now, I’m pretty sure, now that I’ve located a new bilge pump—I’m going to owe a local fisherman. The front’s moving past, but we’re real tired, and Najida was our safest choice. We got in an hour ago, still having quite a bit of wind here. Ramaso says we should stay as long as we want, but I think officially I should ask.
We’re fine. Barb was with him. They were both all right. They’d gotten to Najida.
He just hoped the boat wasn’t too badly damaged.
With your permission, we’re going to be here a few days. We’re likely going to do a little more repair, either locally purchased or shipped over. Ramaso says not to worry, that he’ll order anything we need and put it on your tab. But I’m going to arrange a transfer of funds to cover it; we’ll feel better. I don’t know how to convey that to Ramaso in a way he’ll understand.
You can’t, brother, and it’s not a language problem. Ramaso knows what I’d say about your paying anything. I’ll get the fisherman a new pump.
I’d love to see you in the meanwhile. Any chance you could take the train over to Najida for a couple of days?
Oh, damn, he so wanted to do that. Did he have time? He might—if he flew, and worked on the flight to and from.
“The storm damaged nand’ Toby’s boat,” he said to Narani, who was standing by for a reply. “Toby has put in to Najida for repairs and he asks whether I can come out there. One is very strongly tempted, Rani-ji. The trip up to the station—I have to arrange. But two days—if nothing else blows up—I could possibly spare that.”
“Indeed, nandi. There are a few meetings on your schedule, but those might be rearranged. You could fly, or even take the train, and the bus could have you at Najida tonight.”
“Meeting with the young gentleman. Answering his query. The committee meetings in three days. Lord Tatiseigi is coming back tomorrow. He could deal with the Transportation committee. He intends to be there, regardless. We absolutely agree on the issues.”
“Indeed he might chair them quite ably, nandi.”
God, he rarely did things on the spur of the moment, these days—or he did, but those generally regarded politics or the need for firearms. Doing something this self-interested was an entirely different prospect. He should, he thought, feel guilty for even considering going out there.
But, hell, Tatiseigi could deal with the meetings. And whatever Jase answered about the kids’ maybe-missing letters probably should wait for him to get up to the station. He wanted to talk to Tillington, get the measure of the man, personally, maybe impart a quiet understanding as to why Tillington needed to go home on the next shuttle and seek a nice job in the space industry, with no damaging fuss about it. That was by far the most constructive solution.
That left the Transportation Committee and that series of meetings—which he could come in on toward the last, if Tatiseigi was there to handle the initial phase.
Narani had his orders. He personally had just a few things to mop up, now. He needed to message the Port Director, confirm that he was indeed taking next rotation up. He had to meet with the Guild observers, everything as previously arranged.
And if anything critical came up in the committee meetings, he could be back in Shejidan by plane in a couple of hours.
He could do it. Fly out, fly back. No need of formality or any great furor, or any fuss with the wardrobe, not for informal Najida and working on his brother’s boat.
“Let me compose an official permission for his landing, Rani-ji. I shall send that before all else, just to have the legalities in order.”
“Will you indeed go there, nandi?”
“I think I shall. Tomorrow. I have a letter from the young gentleman, asking for a breakfast tomorrow morning.” God. “And he will be entirely put out if I go to Najida without him. I shall ask his father. It might salve the matter of the other trip, which he cannot take. And there are phones, after all. I can call Lord Geigi and inquire about his problem from there.”
“Indeed, nandi.” Narani let the bowl stand on the little table by the door and quietly left.
Bren spread out a new sheet and dipped his pen in the inkwell, in rising good cheer.
I hope the damage is by no means extensive. You are of course welcome at Najida as long as you need and I shall make every effort to free my schedule. I am sending off the necessary permissions for your landing, with notice to Tabini-aiji, and the Assassins’ Guild. If your schedule is flexible, too, we may be able to gain a day or so together.
If you need greater assistance of any sort, absolutely rely on me. I can locate supplies and repair items with no great difficulty at all and have them in your hands within a day or so.
Please take advantage of every resource Najida can offer for your safety and comfort meanwhile.
He hesitated at the last line. Always, always, there was politics, even within the family.
I hope that Barb is well. Give her my regards.
The letter would be physically delivered. He could pick up a phone and ask for direct contact, but if Toby and Barb were busy trying to bail out the yacht, he had no wish to call them up the steep hill to the phone. He simply spindled it, shoved it into one of his own official white cylinders, and rang for Narani to come back and take it. He could phone Toby tonight, perhaps, after everybody had finished for the day and had a good supper. Ramaso would see to that.
But express mail, couriered to the train, should make it by suppertime. And with luck—he could follow it after breakfast tomorrow and surprise Toby.
“To my brother,” he said simply, “on the regular train.”
“Nandi.” Narani took it, to be carried by one of the staff, who would pack an overnight bag and make it to the main train station from the Bujavid transport stop.
Thunder boomed and crashed, the storm had done with Najida, perhaps, but it had not yet quite done with Shejidan.
And if Cajeiri was to go out to Najida with him he needed clearance from Tabini. If they flew, on a charter, it would be quick, it would be secure, and if the plane waited, he could easily get himself and the boy back to the capital within an hour of any phone call.
He pulled down another sheet of paper, deciding that, hell, yes, he would clear his schedule, and he would go next door and see if he could liberate the young gentleman into the bargain, perhaps for dinner this evening, and have their breakfast on the plane at the crack of dawn.
Bren, paidhi-aiji
To Tabini, aiji of the aishidi’tat
A request has arrived, aiji-ma, from Toby my brother, who has had an emergency at sea. His boat took damage from the storm, and by my prior permission, he has put in at Najida for repairs. One begs you grant him an extended stay, of whatever length repairs require.