Divergence

by C. J. Cherryh

  It was all fairly scary, with very little to do with Ragi folk. Except Father was aiji for the tribal peoples, and the whole south, including the Maschi, and now mani, who was Eastern, where they were really strict about the numbers, and constantly trying to calculate them, was involved with Machigi, who supposedly claimed descent from another kind of ship-folk than had arrived in the heavens, if he was old aristocracy. Machigi claimed to be descended from the Southern Island, where spirits made the world shake.

  It was poetical. But the Marid had been nothing but trouble, ever.

  Ragi were the inventing sort. Ragi were the ones who took the things the Marid knew and the things they knew and came up with a steam engine. Ragi were the ones who invented railroads, and built the first one, and then got the Padi Valley clans—including Uncle’s Atageini—to agree to let the rail through and unite all the clans under one aiji.

  The Marid had never had that. The rail had touched them, finally, but never united those clans, because the Marid were still fighting some old war that had started back before the Great Wave, in which, if he remembered right, Machigi’s unaccountably ancient ancestor had fought Cosadi’s unaccountably ancient ancestor over some stupid thing nobody remembered. Humans landed and humans finally made peace and kept their agreements. The Marid had just gone on fighting each other, until a little old man in Ajuri, Shishogi, Nomari’s great-something uncle, had decided to try to bend the Guild to drive out the humans—as if, in that day, they had had anywhere to go.

  Shishogi’s plan had been to station amenable Guild units here and there, where someday they could take the aijinate and go to war against the humans. There were marriages into and out of the Marid, with Shishogi’s notion of uniting everything and going against humans and against Father’s space program.

  It had come scarily close to working—except, first, Father was not dead and Great-grandmother was not lost up in space, he was not lost, and neither was nand’ Bren. And, to pay some credit where it was due, Machigi had not been dead, either. The Shadow Guild, Shishogi’s creation, had killed Machigi’s father as a step toward their aim, but that had only put Machigi in charge of the Taisigin Marid, and the Shadow Guild and the Dojisigin had certainly regretted that move. Machigi had allied with Great-grandmother, and the Shadow Guild had ended up losing Shishogi and the Guild Council, and a lot else.

  So there was a real reason for mani to want to be allied with Machigi. But that was not saying that that would always be true. That was the problem. Machigi was a scary sort of man who was even scarier on the rare occasions when he turned polite.

  And now there was Nomari. Who might take over Ajuri, and who seemed a very good choice.

  Except he had worked for Machigi, spied for Machigi. Nomari was very quiet, and very easy-going, and one could really feel sorry for him as having seen his whole family killed by the Shadow Guild and having spent his whole life hiding.

  But since he had heard about Nomari working for Machigi, Cajeiri had had certain doubts; and now that Uncle had heard, he thought Uncle might have second thoughts, too.

  He and Uncle had agreed . . . there were scary things going on. And he thought, and he thought Uncle thought, that there was more to mani leaving Uncle behind than her being upset about Mother.

  It was a matter of Nomari and all that Machigi was, and all the past troubles, all asking to be admitted not just to the aishidi’tat, but to the family. To the household. Mani’s household.

  He wanted to believe that Nomari was just that kind boy who had met Mother a long, long time before, and who was just a good boy who had grown up running from Shishogi’s hunters, and who had only the purest thoughts of ruling Ajuri well and being a good neighbor to Uncle and ultimately, to Sister, once Seimei grew up and took Uncle’s place.

  It was just so much more complicated than that. The Marid was a maze of connections and foreignness, and Nomari had navigated it and made his own alliances, notably with a man who could be as great a problem as the Shadow Guild had become, a man who was another survivor of Shishogi’s plots.

  “Nandi?”

  He blinked, realizing Eisi was holding his at-home coat, waiting for him, while connections had blinked into an instant’s clarity, a landscape under a lightning-flash, too wide to see all at once. He moved his arms into the sleeves, accepted being fussed over, tidied up, straightened and cared for.

  He really, truly hoped Mother was right about Nomari, and that Great-grandmother could find what they had seen, he and Mother and Uncle, and that they would work things out and get home safely.

  Meanwhile . . . Uncle knew. He felt comforted by that. Father might hold Uncle somewhat at arms’ length, but he did not. And he ought to feel a little uneasy, as if he had disobeyed or broken a promise.

  But he did not.

  * * *

  • • •

  A fool would start drinking and drink too much. Nomari was not that.

  He did answer polite questions, details on where he had been, and when, and witness to what.

  “You were hiding,” Bren observed at one point, in their sharing of brandy, “where the Shadow Guild was and is strongest.”

  A nod. “Indeed, nandi. But they were looking for me in the north.”

  “Did you ever know any of that Guild, nadi?”

  “No.” Nervous laughter. “I did not seek acquaintance. I knew of them. I knew of certain ones. Serigi. Paina. Pordiri. Laisu. I knew their routes. I am less sure of the faces, since they moved by night. They traveled to and from Cobo and points along the way.”

  “Najida.”

  “Najida. Yes.”

  “They did not enter there.”

  “I have no knowledge what they did, except that there were those who went as far north as Cobo, but no further. Some went by sea. Some went overland as far as Najida.”

  By sea was an established route. Overland was only the wide open expanse of Taisigi territory, their hunting range. Machigi’s hunting range. But on that road that led toward Najida, there was also access to Kajiminda, neighbor to Najida, Lord Geigi’s estate, which had been under his nephew Baiji in those years. Baiji had been lining his pockets with his uncle’s priceless porcelain collection during the years the Shadow Guild had been in control of the government, or seeking to get there. Kajiminda as a contact point was a distinct possibility; and along with Baiji, Pairuti, the lord of Targai, co-equal with Lord Geigi in lordship over Maschi clan lands, and whose wife, Lujo, still living, was Senjin clan. Bren had a brief but keen memory of Lord Pairuti, who had shot him, and who had been shot in turn by Bren’s bodyguard.

  Lujo had been allowed to go back to Senjin, and a subclan had taken the lordship of Maschi clan and Targai, since Geigi had no intention of coming down to deal with the mess Pairuti and Baiji had made. The current lord was Haidiri, one of Bren’s own supporters.

  “There was once a commerce involving Kajiminda and Targai,” Bren said. “Did you have any knowledge of that?”

  “I knew they were places in that network,” Nomari said. “I do not know how deeply so. Many places cooperated with the regime. They had no real choice.”

  The regime. Another euphemism for Murini’s tenure in the aijinate, otherwise known as the Troubles.

  “Those two were a little deeper into the regime than most,” Bren said. “At the time. Not now. Do you know of any other connections supporting the Dojisigin Guild?”

  “I know there were many trains offloading and onloading at Targai. I know that resistance was operating between Najida and Cobo, and there were incidents.”

  One had heard of those. Targai under Pairuti as a distribution point was no great surprise. One had heard a little more, since, as wit had it, the retired and the dead had come back to take over the Assassins’ Guild and take care of the problems in it. A good many records had surfaced. More were being pieced together from the ruin of Shishogi’s office. And
now from the basement of Ajiden, since the Guild was currently in the Ajuri great house, going through records going back centuries . . . and of specific interest, records from the time period of a conspiracy that had aimed at ending two hundred years of human-atevi peace.

  The tide had definitely turned on the rebel regime. Now, overnight, Senjin had allied with the Taisigin and their southern allies, isolating the once fearsome Dojisigin province, despite its port and its ships.

  It was reasonably brilliant, what Ilisidi had done . . . granted the Shadow Guild did not come up with a counter-measure, while the train they were on, between braking and grueling climbs, was headed for the current situation in Bregani’s capital.

  “How do you read Lord Bregani?” Bren asked Nomari bluntly. “Do you think he will break the agreement?”

  There was a lengthy silence. And by the look of it, some many-layered thought.

  “One hesitates to guess, nandi.”

  “Guess, nadi. I appreciate your unique perspective. And I shall not hold you responsible for any error.”

  “Lord Bregani is a fair man,” Nomari said. “His citizens support him, generally, and his courts are fair, so far as I have heard. One could say the same for Lord Machigi in his own clan. Lord Bregani has not had freedom from the Dojisigin. He has been in fear for his life over most of his life, and likewise his wife, whose cousin was assassinated.”

  “And if Tiajo went down?”

  “There would be a good many things shaken loose. Tiajo favors certain people who keep things in balance, and if she goes, they probably will go down, and then the storm breaks in the Dojisigin.”

  “Who are these certain people?”

  “Her chief of security, Maigi. Her chief of household Dasichi.”

  They were not unknown names, and what one did know was murder, murder, and murder, sometimes by court order, sometimes by poison, sometimes by drowning at sea . . . falling off a boat at midnight left very little evidence, but whispers spread.

  “You think,” Bren said, “that removing her would leave these people in charge of the Dojisigin.”

  “I have no important thoughts, nandi.”

  “Let us pretend for a moment you are lord of Ajuri. And that I am asking for Tabini-aiji. What then would your recommendation be—for Tiajo after her removal?”

  A hesitation. But not a long one. “House arrest, in the north, if it could be maintained. Then she and her staff might cooperate in efforts to prevent her assassination, and she might name names. As in Ajuri, the focus should be on finding records, sifting documented lies from undocumented truth. Establish agents of the true Guild in the Dojisigin, and let them work. Set Bregani over both provinces.”

  Bren nodded slowly. It was, indeed, what was going on in Ajuri, and the Assassins’ Guild had a complicated situation to straighten out—finding records, providing safety for witnesses, and being sure over-hasty justice did not wipe out access to someone far more dangerous.

  Messy, no question.

  Bregani might, however, decline the honor.

  “You are not a fool,” Bren said, “and you have closer experience of such a situation than most will have. Sadly so. But you have come out of it alive. You have gained my attention.”

  “You, among others took down my uncle Shishogi. For that, I am forever in your debt. And in that of Lord Tatiseigi, and nand’ Cajeiri, and the aiji-consort. These are the persons to whom I give allegiance. And to the aiji if he will hear me.” A slight hesitation. “I have an agenda, nandi. There are things I want to do for Ajuri. If I am appointed.”

  “The aiji-consort and the aiji-dowager observe an uneasy but lasting truce. But to your personal sense of obligation, add the aiji-dowager, who principally drove forward the mission to take down Shishogi. And Tabini-aiji himself, who is considering your appointment. Add in the lord of Dur, your neighbor, and Keimi of Taiben, to your south, who will back you at Lord Tatiseigi’s request. These will be your attachments, should you win confirmation. You will not be alone.”

  “I accept what you say,” Nomari said soberly. “I am grateful. If in any wise I can assist the dowager now, I will. Even to going into Koperna. I know my way around the city.”

  “One understands you might. And I do have a request.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Nothing difficult. Sit with my aishid and a city map, and answer their questions.”

  * * *

  • • •

  It was a two-glass session. The train labored and clanked and braked on its slow progress. And Nomari settled himself with Tano and Algini, and a map, while Banichi and Jago were off consulting with other Guild on matters unknown.

  “He does have good information,” Tano said, when Nomari had gone back up the passages. “And we have specifics on the whereabouts of certain residences, as he reported activity to Machigi.”

  “Interesting the things he does know,” Algini said. “The location of public garages and the location of transportation facilities and warehouses and vulnerable fuel and power stations. He was a good spy—or Lord Machigi asked good questions.”

  Such things might have been Lord Machigi’s points of interest—now less useful, one hoped, to Machigi, granted the peace held. A professional, in his way, Bren translated that. Eyes that noted details without seeming to look. And perhaps that in itself accounted for the darkness Ilisidi had sensed.

  Bren sat and took notes, and gathered in what Tano and Algini had learned. There was yet no invitation from the dowager for supper, but it was getting near the hour when that question would arise, whether to ask Bindanda, in the galley car, to prepare them their own, or expect to be invited.

  Then Banichi and Jago came back with their own report, and they gathered at the little table, with Narani and Jeladi standing by, equally participant.

  “The train this morning,” Banichi said, “was not only Guild, it is specifically under Tabini-aiji’s direction, and Cenedi, with us, has just confirmed that.”

  “One is not surprised,” Bren said. “One hopes Tabini-aiji is not aboard.”

  “He is not,” Banichi said, “we are relatively sure. Tabini-aiji has delegated authority to a representative of the Guild Council—we believe. This comes in code, which is unavoidably lacking in detail.”

  “Does this train intend to block us?” Bren asked.

  “We do not think that is the intent. We think they are going to stop, but that they will pull onto a siding near the abandoned Dojisigi spur to wait for us and possibly to have a word with the dowager, but we have received no clear statement. Again, the difficulty with codes. They may request the dowager not proceed into Koperna—possibly will request for her to change trains. We doubt that the dowager will comply.”

  “I also doubt it,” Bren said.

  “Meanwhile Lord Machigi has been told. He has requested to send messages to his capital and to Sungeni and Dausigi, and that is being considered, as he can bring in ships, but the dowager has flatly told him he must not intervene in Senjin.”

  “No,” Bren said. “That intervention would not seem helpful. What do we understand is the situation in Koperna?”

  “Waiting. Waiting. Nothing is happening, which means problems may have gone into hiding. The airwaves are quiet. This train is armored against gunfire, but any train runs on tracks and cannot evade a problem. It has been our worry, all the way down, but the descending track has been inspected and guarded and is hard for the Dojisigin to reach. Not so, what lies ahead of us.”

  “Do you wish me to argue with the dowager?”

  “Cenedi has spoken with her, and says she is determined to go ahead. We shall see what news we have when we have contact with the aiji’s forces.”

  “When will that be?”

  “At dusk.”

  It gave them a little light to see—if ever they were allowed to open a door. Likel
y someone would go across and messages would be carried, too sensitive to go by a compromised communication system.

  “About two hours from now,” Banichi added.

  He had lost count of the ups and downs of the switchbacks. The train had run on a relative flat now and again. And then not.

  “Homura,” Bren said. The man’s whereabouts had been a question all the way down. They were about to leave the heights into the borderland between the Dojisigin and Senjin, where a furtive presence could leave them . . . or cause problems of unpredictable nature.

  “Nothing,” Banichi said. “We believe he has indeed stayed in Hasjuran.”

  “As well if that is so,” Bren said. “Then we have only to ask ourselves which side Momichi is on, and where he is.”

  “Lying low with the problems in Koperna,” Banichi suggested. “All of us would be happier if there were resistance. We know our own tactics. And we see them reflected back to us, Bren-ji. On the one hand we might wish the dowager would hold back and not go into Koperna. But on the other hand—the border of Senjin and the Dojisigin is not where we would wish her to stay, either. She is moving fast, very fast, in the political sense, and she has closeted herself again with her own aishid, in possession of every fact we have been able to gather.”

  “I am no help to her,” Bren said. “You might be.”