And even if he had business to do up there, and very important business, being what he was, he would surely get a chance to see them before he came back down again.
Even if they were holding meetings on into the evenings, there had to be suppers and some hours of rest.
And there had to be a little time for them to pay courtesies before they came back to Earth. It seemed only fair.
His arriving there would likely surprise them, unless nand’ Geigi had already told them he was coming. He envisioned a fine dinner, with crystal and porcelain, and flowers—well, probably not flowers—but a proper dinner, with everyone in court clothes.
Well, except probably the parents, supposing Lord Geigi had invited them.
But that would be a problem. Lord Geigi might trust his three associates, on his word, to tell them what was going on—but not the parents.
No, Lord Geigi would leave that to Jase to explain.
And Jase-aiji probably would not tell them. Jase-aiji would not trust the parents either. He rather well had that feeling.
He hoped his associates had gotten a chance to come visit Lord Geigi. Even if the mail had had a problem.
But a lot had been going on. Tillington had messed everything up. And very probably Tillington was the problem with the mail.
He was personally upset with Tillington-aiji, in that suspicion. But there were far more important reasons nand’ Bren and Jase-aiji were upset with Tillington, and that forecast there was going to be trouble, at least for a while.
He could not imagine Tillington clearly, who he was, how he looked. He kept imagining an atevi lord, specifically Lord Aseida, who had made all sorts of trouble, but Tillington would not look like that, would not dress like that, and probably—a good thing—would not have a bodyguard to make trouble.
He hoped nand’ Bren would just tell Tillington to be quiet and go pack, that was what.
Then they could meet with Prakuyo an Tep, and find out why the kyo were here, and then he could get to have the dinner party he imagined, well, maybe without any parents. Maybe with mani and nand’ Bren and Lord Geigi and Jase-aiji.
And maybe he could even get a few days, just to walk around the station with his associates and see what there was to see.
His last trip through the station, they had been running. Literally, in places, which was remarkable, with mani. It had all been a jumble of halls and the docking area and the yellow tubes and then the shuttle, and with everybody hurrying so that somehow their enemies on the ground would not expect them.
He remembered flying in the shuttle just over a year ago, and landing on Earth—he knew for a fact that he had ridden the shuttle up to the station in the first place, but all the memory he had of that was a vague recollection of things floating about the cabin, and mani telling him to get back into his seat.
He had been a lot younger then.
Now, while the joints in the track clicked past, nand’ Bren and mani and he all sat having tea, and the four strangers from the Guild stood back by the rear door talking with Nawari and Banichi and Algini. And despite the kyo arriving and all the troubles with Tillington, it was just business, back there. None of them were afraid. They were sharing details of where they were going and how things stood. Occasionally they even laughed.
But for once he was sure he knew a lot more about their problem than the four who had joined them—because he knew where he was going, and what he was going to do, and who he was going to meet, and why it was dangerous.
“You have not asked where you will stay when we are on the station,” mani said, distracting him onto a very different track.
“No, mani.” He remembered how it had been on the ship. In his head, he had confused his memory of the ship with the station, himself with one little room behind mani’s several rooms connected together, with all the odd doors. He realized now he could hardly remember the station apartment.
“One thought—one expects one will stay with you, mani.”
“Indeed. And there have been changes in the apartment. There is now a real guest quarters, which is, one is informed, simply an adjacent set of rooms with a door connecting. It lacks a sitting room, but has an arrangement for your aishid and servants. One understands you did not bring your valets, in favor of the Guild delegation.”
“Indeed, mani. But Jeladi and Lucasi can keep my clothes in order.”
“They may pass items for attention to my staff,” mani said, in that tone that said that was how things would be. “Ask my staff for anything you need. Your aishid has no experience up there. They must ask Cenedi for a thorough briefing. Regarding this outside door, it is to remain locked, and all callers should go through our main door. Do we adequately agree that this is no place for misbehaviors and rule-breaking?”
“Mani, yes. One understands.”
“You will promise us. Station politics is highly unstable at the moment, and there is danger. I shall expect you to keep that in mind.”
“Mani, I do promise.”
“Excellent,” mani said, in that tone that made it law.
So that was where he would stay. It was all right. He would stay where he was told. He would do everything right. He would deserve favors. That was his plan, to get things he wanted. And he watched the tea service go around again. There was no convenient way to go sit with his bodyguard. One did not fidget in great-grandmother’s presence.
And present company was not just people they knew. The Guild observers were observing, one supposed, things to report to the Guild and his father—such as how his father’s heir behaved.
He sat and sipped tea while nand’ Bren and mani invited the Guild representatives over, and told them things about the kyo and about station politics—which was worth hearing. Nand’ Bren warned the representatives about things that were no surprise at alclass="underline" that extreme options were not open to the ship-aijiin, and that Lord Geigi could not use them without authorization, and authorization could only come from Father.
Nand’ Bren also warned them about Stationmaster Tillington and said that once Tillington was replaced, then the ship-aijiin could get rid of Braddock. That was an interesting plan.
If they could get rid of Braddock, then maybe there was much less likelihood of shipping the Reunioners out to Maudit. He was definitely in favor of getting rid of Braddock.
Things he had heard only in bits and pieces began to make sense. He sat there saying nothing, not moving a muscle except to drink his tea, and to accept another cup.
He had brought his kyo dictionary. He had brought his Mosphei’ dictionary. And he had brought his Ragi dictionary, because he had thought that was going to be useful, too.
He was right. He was not even at the spaceport yet and he was gathering a basketful just of Ragi words to look up.
· · ·
The Guild observers made complete sense: a senior unit who had been in the field, serving in the southwest, in a Tajidi Township clan, until Ruheso’s injury. They had served in and out of Guild Headquarters between Ruheso’s injury and the coup, as investigators—a variety of police work unique to the Guild, where a Filing of Intent and a counter-Filing both involved charges of illegal activity, or where an appeal to Tabini-aiji for justice raised issues that needed sorting out in a certain district.
A number of years ago, Bren thought, he might not have quite appreciated what this unit was, and what their job was, but they were indeed no fools. They asked questions, they sifted statements, and asked other questions. They were far more outgoing than most Guild, and, battle-scarred as they were, they smiled a great deal—which was, one was sure, part of their skill. They encouraged trust, and confidences, and probably read very well between the lines.