“The fire may become inconvenient,” Banichi said quietly, close by. “We are asked to bring everyone back aboard. The wind is blowing the other way, but the smoke is noxious if the wind shifts and the landing may attract notice.”
The dowager was likely receiving the same information, and they turned back toward the open door of the Red Car, with its tamer, golden light.
Geigi, Bren thought. Geigi had stepped in. The lander was more than a statement, it was a threat. It was nothing invited or predicted, and, most critically, it was not the dowager’s doing—he was certain it was not. Geigi would never send it down to this region of potential conflict without Tabini’s direct order.
Regardless, there were assurances that had to be given, questions that had to be answered, quickly.
“Nadiin-ji,” he said to his aishid, waiting while the dowager reboarded, “very likely we shall be meeting with our fellow passengers. Very likely the dowager will be asking questions.”
“We are receiving answers,” Banichi said, distracted for a moment. “So is Cenedi. Guild is being asked to attend a conference on the other train. We shall not. The order is for unassigned Guild.”
Meaning Guild not assigned as bodyguards.
“Is there any clue of its intention?” he asked. He was, by accident of placement, ahead of Lord Bregani and his family. Machigi had lingered longest at the sight outside. And the predicted questions began to drift in the air along with the acrid smell of smoke.
“We have no information,” Banichi said.
It seemed likely the other train did have information, and that it was about to pass that on, but it was forseeable that the dowager knew something, or would know in short order, as soon as units from their own train came back from the conference. Jago went up ahead of him, reached down and pulled him up to the first step. Bren took the next, and entered the Red Car, where the dowager waited, with Cenedi and Nawari and two more. He foreknew the question.
“Did you know, paidhi?”
He was unequivocally glad he had not had to hold that knowledge. “I did not, aiji-ma. Clearly—”
“Geigi will not have worked directly with the Guild,” Ilisidi said shortly, scanting courtesy. “This is my grandson’s doing. And his.”
“One tends to the same thought, aiji-ma. Lord Geigi has set down a boundary, at very least, between Senjin and the Dojisigin.”
“One supposes that is the limit of it,” Ilisidi said. “Give my grandson credit for a grand machimi, at very least.”
“To your good, one thinks, aiji-ma, if it keeps the Dojisigin entertained.”
It was always a risk to go lightly when the dowager’s temper was engaged, and it won an intense frown, but not an angry one.
“Those metal things,” she said, “defile a landscape. The Marid has not been so blessed until now. We apologize for the intrusion.”
Bregani had just boarded, Murai and Husai behind him. Machigi came immediately after, and then Nomari, all of them having exited from the Red Car, all of them returning by the same route. Narani and Jeladi, last aboard, were the only staff of any sort present. Jeladi, absolute hindmost, shut the door, and blocked the smell of smoke.
“That is one of the landers,” Machigi said, not happily. “Surely. From Lord Geigi. What is it meant to do, nand’ dowager?”
“We,” Ilisidi said sharply, “were not consulted in this. The other train evidently expected it. I am very sure it is my grandson’s notion of assisting us, and I shall have questions myself. Lord Bregani, we assure you we intended no such thing. My grandson and our ally in the space station have evidently decided to define a boundary, and we are not in accord with the need for it. It is a fair warning to the Dojisigin to keep to their own territory. Clearly Lord Geigi has taken a hand in matters, and with it, he announces to us, and any who might wish us harm, that he does have a very clear idea where we are and what moves out here on the plain. We know something of these devices. There are a number of them scattered across the continent, including in the East, and they sit. They sit where they are placed, thus far, and we do not know what we shall do with them, but there they are—eyes on the land, and able to defend themselves if threatened.”
“Surely this is human technology,” Lord Bregani said, not with a friendly tone on the word human.
“In point of fact, nandi,” Ilisidi said, “it is not. It is Lord Geigi’s own device. His invention, for atevi purposes. During the Troubles, he was sending them down to observe and possibly to threaten the illegitimate authorities. They never were fully used. We returned to the world, the paidhi-aiji and I, and my great-grandson. The people of the north and the midlands and the coast rose up in support of my grandson, so Lord Geigi’s program to attack the rebels was never set in motion—nor were all the planned landers built or deployed. Clearly—this one was available, and set to a fair purpose, if it protects your eastern buffer, nandi. Do not be troubled by it. In general, they sit quietly and do nothing unless someone attacks them. So we are told.”
“You have promised, nand’ dowager. You have given your word.”
“As has Lord Geigi given his word to me, nandi, and I now to you, with the understanding I have. I shall have a word with my grandson and another with Lord Geigi in the near future. I swear to you and to Lord Machigi, this arrival is a surprise to me and my staff, and it may be a regrettable eyesore, but it will be a quiet one toward you and your allies if it stands there a hundred years. Neither my grandson nor Lord Geigi will attack my allies nor assert demands contrary to our agreements. I say it, and I will see it stand. The only threat this issues is to Tiajo and her outlawed helpers, none to you. I do swear it.”
Ilisidi was angry, furiously angry, not at present company; and such was her expression and her tone that one really, truly wanted not to tip the balance in any direction. Lord Bregani was frowning, too, and so was Murai, while Husai looked worried. Machigi was another study, far less readable.
“Will this delay us?” Bregani asked—who above all had an immediate concern that had nothing to do with monster machines floating down from the heavens.
“Not much longer,” Ilisidi said, dead calm and steady. “My grandson’s notions will not affect you, nandi, though we believe we could have dealt with this with just a little less smoke and fire. If Tiajo is fool enough to invade, success against you has just become infinitely more difficult. Lord Geigi now has an excellent view of this whole region. I rather imagine there are some who hope Tiajo and her helpers make such an attempt. The Guild in Shejidan has ached for a chance to discuss matters with her and her supporters, and unless you wish, nandi, to intercede for her . . .”
“In no wise,” Bregani said.
“Then she ceases to be our concern.” Ilisidi made a dismissive move of her fingers, and seemed, with it, to have dismissed some of her anger. “We in this car, nandiin, we have other business, and our agreement will stand. It was a spectacle. One is glad to have seen it, and one suspects our own ally Lord Geigi, up in the heavens, watched the progress of the Red Train and timed this arrival to a nicety, to give us a show. He is nothing if not whimsical. So here it is, and here it will stand, doing nothing, unless Tiajo makes an effort in your direction. Then it is capable of causing a great deal of inconvenience. Should she invade instead by sea—we have that handled. So shall we settle for a brandy, nandiin, until we have done whatever business the Guild intends, and are free to be on our way? One trusts this conference they ask will not be long.”
There was acquiescence, at least. It was an uneasy company that settled, with Ilisidi’s staff to provide hospitality—the Red Car mostly cleared, with a small table anchored near the seats at the rear and most other seats folded and stowed. Of the large table there was no sign, just the little table, the bench seat at the extreme rear, and the seats provided.
“Find out what all this is,” Ilisidi said in low tones, pausing beside Bren. �
�We want to know.”
So did he, when it came to that. He turned back and found only Jago and Tano, Banichi and Algini not having boarded the car.
“What is going on?” he asked. “Whose plan is this?”
“It is Guild Council in charge over there,” Jago said. “One of their number, at least, in command, with his own escort. Guild-seniors are called in, they say, to pick up equipment. We are not entirely sure what the situation may be, but we think this other force is aimed at the Shadow Guild. We do not think they intend to hold us here.”
“Can they?” he asked.
“It depends on their authorization. The aiji can. And might.”
“He is not aboard.”
“He is not,” Jago said. “And if it comes to a contest between their orders and the dowager’s will, one is not certain, Bren-ji.”
Clearly enough if the dowager’s intent was challenged, diplomacy might be the only rescue, that and direct recourse to Tabini-aiji, security issues tossed to the wind. Bregani was in a vise, but Machigi was not, and they could not have one or the other breaking free. Or come to a governmental crisis between the Guilds and the aijinate.
“I am going over there,” he said. “Nadiin-ji, go with me.”
They looked hesitant. He did not blame them. But he headed for the door, and they were with him, Jago taking the lead, helping him down, and it was a walk forward the whole length of the train, with the smell of smoke and the faint smell of something overheated in the air, and the glow of a field fire in the distance. The hulking shape of the relay showed a few lights, but no other activity.
But before they had gotten to the engine of the Red Train, beyond which they could cross to the other track, a number of their own Guild appeared coming toward them.
It was chill. It was a question what the dowager was going to say about his unasked departure. And they might have to go on to query someone aboard the other train if their own returnees had a wrong answer.
He kept walking, and they did. They met halfway, a mingled group of Guild from Headquarters in Shejidan, and Nawari, with two of Ilisidi’s bodyguard, and Banichi and Algini.
“Nandi.” Banichi used the formality in the presence of others.
“The dowager grew concerned,” Bren answered the implied question. It was, as everyone had to know, an understatement; and he immediately turned about to walk with his reunited aishid to get out of the dark and the possibility of watchers. Banichi, he was sure, was not happy to see him out here. “Do we have information?”
“Yes,” Banichi said definitively. “The relay is for our use; it is permanent; and they will prevent any incursion at our backs while the dowager’s operation continues.”
“She will be happy with that,” Bren said, thinking that the dowager might not be all that happy with an intervention, but would be considerably happier, if it eliminated a two-way problem. “Who is commanding, aboard?”
“Maipari, of the Guild Council,” Banichi said. “The aishidi’tat is not, he states, at war with the Dojisigin. The Guild has, on its own, called on its outlawed members to surrender and given them a last chance of limited amnesty, excepting criminal acts.”
“None of the leaders can favor that,” Algini added. “One does not expect compliance.”
“So is this lander setting a boundary?” Bren asked.
“Not in essence,” Banichi said. “It functions, with a satellite, as a communications relay, one the Shadow Guild cannot use and we can.”
Communication. Secure, at least for the time being. The ability to plan and move and know the enemy was not using exactly the same systems and might have access to current codes.
“It is new hardware,” Banichi said. “Use is very simple. One would need no additional instruction.”
Banichi said that meaningfully, beyond a lord’s need to know—it being illegal for a lord to use the Guild communication system.
“Lord Geigi sent the units down on the shuttle,” Algini said. “He is aware what the dowager is doing. He hoped to deliver it before we left the capital, but it is here now. There is a satellite, intended for the Southern Ocean navigation, that will relay the signal from the lander to the station. The communications units are the same as the ones used on the station. We will not need the numeric codes, we will not need the train’s relay, and we can communicate directly with Headquarters. Tabini-aiji has sent it. We are to continue using the old system and old codes for most purposes, but now units can talk to each other or local command or Shejidan without restraint, and the Shadow Guild will not be able to breach it.”
It was rare to get two sentences from Algini. But it was indeed a major move, as radical as Lord Geigi’s original plan, to send landers to every district, armed, potentially mobile, and controlled from the space station, a high ground unassailable by the conspirators who had, for a time, set up a government and tried to rule. But when the starship returned, triumphant, with the aiji-dowager and Tabini’s heir apparent, validating Tabini’s faith in the humans, the people had indeed risen up in support of Tabini. That had been the unexpected answer to Shishogi’s plan to roll back the clock two hundred years and be rid of human influence; and the rebel government, after so much blood and terror, had gone down like a paper figure before the wind. So the whole system had never deployed, and Lord Geigi, who had been prepared to declare himself aiji in the heavens if Tabini were dead, had been very happy to go back to administering the atevi side of the space station, and throwing himself into projects far more to his liking, with the atevi starship unbuilt, and with at least one of his landers undistributed, and with a wealth of schemes to explore the world and the moon, for a start—and the solar system and the stars beyond if he ran out of projects. The last thing Geigi wanted to be was aiji in Shejidan.
And this thing—this lovely thing, Bren thought—was going to sit out here in the plain between the dowager’s new ally, Bregani, and the dowager’s old enemy, Tiajo, and relay messages from the units going into Senjin and the units sitting out here to be sure the Shadow Guild did not send Dojisigin forces across this coastal flat. The grass fire was a small disaster, but the thing itself, that hulking ungainly shadow, was the presence of their ally in the heavens, and a statement, once the Shadow Guild knew how to read it, that their bluff was called. The Shadow Guild could not muster a fighting force, their damage was contained and their power, as such, was about to lose their last stronghold.
They reached the steps of the Red Car, and that door opened for them, a signal having passed by regular means. Bren made a try for the steps on the sloping rail-bed, a fairly vain try to reach the hand rail beside the door, but Banichi—he was sure it was Banichi—boosted him up to the step so deftly he was no delay at all. He climbed aboard, met the anxiety inside, and the dowager’s frown, and saw the looks change to slight puzzlement at cheerful faces.
“Good news,” he said to the company, and to the dowager. “The Guild Council has set itself here to define a boundary. And so has Lord Geigi in the heavens. He has set down a fortification the Shadow Guild likely already understands—having met them elsewhere across the continent. Now the Marid has its own sentinel.” He had the confidence of his own aishid and the Guild that he would not betray technical information or Guild assets, and he did not state what Guild would tell Guild later and in private, but he could at least report the essence of it. “The force that arrived with that train will deal with matters outside Senjin and at our backs. We have assurance that when we go in, we will not have trouble from behind us, and whatever the outcome, Lord Tiajo is not going to be happy to have Lord Geigi’s gift watching what comes and goes out there.”
“We are then free to get underway,” the dowager said.
“Indeed,” he said.
11
The steps were taken up, the doors were again sealed and locked, and the Red Train began to roll toward Bregani’s capital of Koperna as
everyone headed back through the passages to their own cars.
Ilisidi, however, lingered with her guard and her staff. Bren paused as well. That the dowager stayed . . . indicated that she had somewhat to say—and within present company, only the dowager’s aishid, only his, and their staff, anything could be said.
“Geigi,” Ilisidi said, “has been a busy fellow. Who, I wonder, put him up to this.”
“I did not,” Bren said, and venturing further: “I seem to be denying a number of things tonight, but I swear to you, aiji-ma, this was entirely unexpected.”
She seemed amused rather than annoyed, altogether in a better humor. “Oh, this begins to fit together like a puzzle-box, paidhi-ji. You are not here as my grandson’s bid to prevent my murdering the Ajuri claimant. You are not even here to prevent me enlarging my associations in the south, which I have done. No. I am convinced now that my grandson saw me approaching the powder storage with a match, was disturbed, and believes me apt to declare war on Tiajo. I am not such a fool as to go at it with thirteen Guild units and our own household guard; but never mind: my grandson is worried and has called on the Guild and the heavens above us to intervene.”
“One is certain,” Bren began to say.
“No, no, paidhi, we know our grandson. He was alarmed, he appealed to Lord Geigi, who, he is aware, has acquired the ability to watch over us from the height of the heavens. His weather satellite has many useful abilities we have not mentioned. Now our grandson has urged Lord Geigi to spend a resource we had discussed when we were on the space station—notably the disposition of Lord Geigi’s sole fully functional lander. I had wanted it set somewhat south, perhaps down in the Dausigin to be useful for navigation, but this will do—a little extravagant, but this will do. We can communicate directly with Geigi through its services, and apparently whoever has one of those units can communicate with each other as if they were in the same room. The timing of the lander was an exquisite courtly flourish. One can absolutely see Geigi’s hand in it. He was watching us every step of the way.”
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