Resurgence

by C. J. Cherryh

  “We have not found out a thing,” was the general report on mani, which argued, with important people going away so quietly, that whatever was going on in the world did not involve just questions about Nomari.

  “One worries,” Cajeiri said, “about him. About everybody.”

  “He lived down in the Marid,” Cajeiri said, “he stayed alive, because he was not up here where they were hunting people. The Transportation Guild let a lot of people move around when moving around was not that safe. And Onami says, and I think this is probably the truth, that the rebels had to keep the trains running or see business stop, and they had to have the people who could run the trains and keep everything going. So they could not threaten the Transportation Guild. It was the Assassins and some of the Merchants and Treasurers who were mostly the targets. So Nomari had that advantage if he just kept quiet and tried not to attract attention. That is what I understand. The people hunting exiles from Ajuri had far more interest in the north than the south.”

  “The south,” Antaro said, “with Lord Machigi resisting the Shadow Guild, does not seem a terribly troublesome association for your cousin to have even today—if it is in the past.”

  “I do not think it is entirely in the past. Machigi might want it to go on. I am a little worried that mani might want it to go on, for her own reasons. I do not trust Machigi. But maybe she does not trust him, either.”

  “That is possible.”

  “I would not want him to be involved with the Taisigin,” Cajeiri said. “Nomari is our cousin and needs to be up here, putting his clan to rights, not in the South doing who knows what. We say the Marid is part of the aishidi’tat, but the Marid clans are always quarreling with each other, and they hold no seats in the tashrid or the hasdrawad. They pick and choose which guilds they let in. And I looked up Bregani. He is related to Tiajo. He actually could have a claim on Dojisigi, while he is holding Senjin.”

  “It might be better,” Lucasi said, “if he did step in.”

  “If,” Veijico said, “they can get rid of the Shadow Guild.”

  “I, for one,” Antaro said, “want to be sure they do get rid of the Shadow Guild—before he steps in . . . if that is his ambition. Tiajo is a fool, and they use her. But handing some remnant of them to a lord who may have some cleverness, who may find a way to use them, who is not firmly in the aishidi’tat, and who has an uneasy relationship with Machigi—could be trouble.”

  It was something to think about, Cajeiri thought: and then thought: “If Machigi and Bregani start trading, and Machigi has the port dealing with mani, then the Dojisigi port is not going to be as important and neither is Lusi’ei in Bregani’s territory. That could be a problem.”

  “That is so,” Jegari said. “They have fishing. They have local trade. But the loss of shipping . . . that will be a problem for everybody.”

  “The north trading down there,” Lucasi said, “can moderate that.”

  “There is also the thing Machigi has always wanted,” Antaro said. “The west coast. I would not be surprised to see that matter boil up again—if he has Bregani as an ally.”

  “He will lose mani’s support, if he tries that,” Cajeiri said. “I do not trust him, but I also do not think he would be that stupid.”

  “And Dojisigi will keep them busy for a while,” Jegari said.

  “Dojisigi is apt to explode,” Antaro said, “and explode within days, if this goes through.”

  “If Bregani meets with mani and goes home,” Cajeiri said, “he will die, whether or not he signs that agreement. So what are they going to do?”

  Veijico said, “Maybe they will bring him all the way back to Shejidan.”

  “If they do,” Lucasi said, “the Dojisigi will lose no time moving on Senjin. And it would be very easy to disrupt the rail that comes down from Hasjuran, and stop the whole system, at least as far as any shipments to the Marid. Surely your great-grandmother will not risk going down there.”

  “Winter is coming,” Lucasi said, “when that whole route is a little chancy. Sometimes it closes. And there is always the coastal route. Shejidan can reach them that way.”

  “Right now the Hasjuran route is likely closed for security reasons,” Antaro said. “I would be surprised if Transportation is letting anything move past the Red Train.”

  True, Cajeiri thought. And: “Maybe closing that rail is exactly what my great-grandmother has in mind.”

  “Surely your great-grandmother would not go down into Senjin herself.”

  “Cenedi would not let her,” Cajeiri said, and hoped it was the truth. “No. She will not. She will listen to him.”

  “And having Machigi aboard . . .” Veijico said. “That will not make Lord Bregani feel easier.”

  “It shows he listens to her,” Jegari said. “It shows Machigi is really part of whatever she is offering.”

  “If one can trust Lord Machigi that far,” Antaro said.

  “The paidhi-aiji can talk to him,” Jegari said. “He arranged the agreement with Machigi in the first place.”

  “Bregani would never have seen a human,” Veijico said. “That has to make him a little worried.”

  “And why would she take nand’ Bren with her,” Lucasi asked, “if she expected a fight?”

  Mani thought nothing of putting herself into the middle of dangerous action, if it suited her purposes. She would hardly think twice about anyone else. He knew that.

  “Nand’ Bren carries a gun,” Cajeiri said. “Did you know that?”

  “We were told so,” Lucasi said. “But has he ever used it?”

  “His aishid would never let him have it if they had not taught him how.”

  “I think he would use it,” Antaro said, “if he had to. But he has Banichi. And Banichi would not let it be necessary.”

  “Neither would Jago,” Jegari said, with a little amusement. And soberly: “It will not come to that, Jeri-ji. Cenedi will pull them all back to Shejidan, if anything develops.”

  Not, Cajeiri thought, if mani ordered otherwise, and said, another concern: “If they can turn around.”

  “They can,” Veijico said firmly. “Trains can, there. Sometimes they must . . . in the winter, when the track to Senjin has a problem.”

  “Then I hope they have already turned the train around,” Cajeiri said, staring into the darkness. “I wish they were on their way back right now.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Bren stirred, found the lights in the car had brightened, and rolled over, propping his head with a pillow and gathering his thoughts back.

  Jago had not joined him. There had been a general Guild conference including Bregani, Murai, Machigi’s bodyguard and Murai’s, running late into the night, and he had not heard the issue of it, except that Bregani and his family were receiving current reports from the units down in Koperna, and the cousin had been contacted, finally, once the Guild force reached the harbor at Lusi’ei.

  They had gone further than that, setting up in several places of vantage, including the old rail spur into Dojisigin. The rail itself had long since become impassible, but it marked a land route, and a means by which foot traffic could slip through. Despite the fact the Dojisigin had inserted themselves into the heart of aishidi’tat politics, had marriage ties to the Kadagidi and were involved in Murini’s short-lived regime, the Dojisigi heartland had never accepted rail past a single town on its fringe. The railroad, historically, was the origin and backbone of the aishidi’tat, and the Dojisigi wanted none of it. They saw it as a threat, a way for a northern force to travel all the way to its heart. That spur, built during a brief coziness between the Dojisigin and Kadagidi, had gotten no further than the border, and stopped, as the coziness fell afoul of Dojisigi suspicion, and a Kadagidi marriage ended.

  The Dojisigin had always thought of itself as a sea power. And it was that, in the Marid. G
oods and people moved by ship from the Dojisigi port into Lusi’ei . . . and into Sungeni and Dausigi. In some decades, they had traded with the Taisigin, but no longer. Dojisigi ships still traded clear to the strait of Mospheira, up the coast to Cobo, but goods also moved by rail, generally, going by truck from the port in Lusi-ei, through Koperna, and onto the rails there. And all that was, by the stamp of a seal ring, in danger.

  Koperna might not expect a stalled train sitting on a siding to change their future, but tonight, that was happening, step by step, certain targets neutralized, various offices secured, communications appropriated, and equipment offloaded while the advance teams moved on various assignments.

  Bregani’s cousin had gotten the message, and there had been arrangements for direct communication, calling on Talidi and Farai clan officials and all subclan authorities to cooperate with northern Guild, and to smooth out any points of difficulty. The Transportation Guild was being notified to relay any calls to the Residency to Bregani himself, aboard the Red Train, and that he would be available to answer questions and direct operations.

  They had not yet involved the Messengers Guild, but it was fairly sure that someone somewhere would have made a regular phone call asking questions, and once that happened—Dojisigi would have gotten the word.

  Nothing had happened yet. Likely it would, soon, but if Tiajo had found out—her handlers were not letting her make a move. The Shadow Guild had thinking to do.

  Bregani’s message meanwhile had gone out, and Bregani had been receiving answers and inquiries through Transportation channels before Bren had gone to bed last night. The Shejidani Guild in Koperna had reported some small disturbance in the streets, but it had quickly dispersed. Senjin province had experienced Shadow Guild enforcement, sad to say, and that fear had actually proved useful. Ordinary people were keeping behind locked doors, and making no conspicuous moves, at the last reports he had gotten.

  Confusion was inevitable if the two forces did begin to engage, but it would be stealthy, and technical. Guild might be Guild, to the average citizen: they wore the same uniforms, they looked alike, but the two forces both had means to identify their own, and they would not willingly commit unless there was some clear gain to be had.

  Bregani himself had entered into direct communication with his cousin well past midnight, and Guild had widened its perimeter steadily. Bregani had been giving specific instructions to certain officials, and Murai had done the same with her own clan, particularly in Lusi’ei, while Husai sat in the corner, trying not to sleep, but giving way to it from time to time, curled around a wad of someone’s coat.

  That had been the scene in the Guild car, but a little after midnight, Bren had concluded someone should have his wits about him tomorrow—in the ongoing operation down in Senjin, he was no more useful than Husai, desperately as he wanted to understand what was going on. But his questions could only distract, not inform, and he had left the scene. The dowager had long since gone to bed, and he had courted a few hours of fitful sleep, replaying the evening, replaying what they knew of events southward, none of which gave him answers about the dowager’s intentions.

  The clock said an hour before dawn when he gave up, sat up, raked a hand through his tangled hair and headed for the accommodation. Cold water aboard was almost as cold as the winter outside, tanks and lines evidently protected from freezing, but only just. He splashed it into his face, shocking his system to wakefulness, and threw on a dressing gown.

  No one was up. It was a prickly, exhausted morning, with no sunlight, no window except the very little one he had used before, and it—he had indeed tried it—offered no view but a snowy roof edge. There was no clue it was morning except the clock on the wall, which one only trusted was accurate.

  He could make his own tea, he thought, without disturbing Narani and Jeladi, who had refused to go to bed until he did. He managed to heat water, made the tea strong and added sugar, not always his habit, but it was a sort of breakfast, until he could get a better one. Too much stirring about and opening cabinets would certainly wake his staff. So he stood there, sipping hot, sweet tea, and wondering when or whether his aishid had ever gotten to bed.

  The dowager, he was sure, had slept. She had done her thinking, laid her plans, gotten an agreement out of Machigi, and, for all he knew, set it all up starting with that unprecedented excursion to Najida, starting a chain of events that would worry the Dojisigi and present Senjin both a lure and a threat to their economy.

  Thank God he had gotten no invitation this morning to one of her crack of dawn breakfasts. She had some compassion.

  “Nandi?” Jeladi appeared behind him, in the mirror.

  He turned ruefully, cup in hand. “Ladi-ji. One tried to be quiet.”

  “I was awake.”

  “Is there any news?”

  “Things stand much the same as last night, nandi, by what I know.”

  “The engine has not gone back down.”

  “No, nandi. Lord Bregani and his family are sleeping, now. There was a minor action in Lusi’ei as a Dojisigi ship tried to leave port. It was boarded and the crew is detained. There was a sniping incident in the rail yard, but that was handled to our advantage.”

  “Good.” He thought he would have waked if the forward cars had uncoupled, but he had been over-tired. He still was. Not having done anything but trade one seat for another yesterday, he still felt exhausted, and not just from the thin air and the chill.

  That Bregani was still with them, and that nothing had gone wrong in the last number of hours, however, was good news.

  “I shall have breakfast, Ladi-ji. A cold roll will do very nicely, if we can manage it without noise. Dinner last night is not setting all that well. And if Narani is sleeping, let him. I can dress myself.”

  “Nandi.” Jeladi went to handle breakfast. Bren found the day’s clothes hanging on the closet door—Narani had arranged that. He dressed, braided his own hair into a ribbonless queue, sat down at the little table grouping, and when the breakfast roll arrived with hot tea, he washed down large bites of the roll and took a few scant notes on the sequence of events Jeladi had reported, in the running account he had kept, times approximate, but at least fairly so.

  Then he put his head back against the seat and rested his eyes a moment.

  He opened his eyes at Narani’s quiet arrival, rubbed his face and realized it had been an hour, the remaining tea was cold, and he still had not shaved.

  “One regrets to disturb you,” Narani said. “Will you want something else?”

  “No,” he said. “I am fine, Rani-ji. How do we fare?”

  “So far, quiet prevails here and in Senjin. The dowager has asked Lord Topari to share tea in the Red Car, and there will be papers to sign.”

  “I need a headache powder,” Bren said. “Do we believe this is, again, the association document to be signed?”

  “We do think so,” Narani said.

  “I put my pistol in the top drawer last night. If we are to have strangers aboard, I shall have it.”

  “I shall bring it and the headache remedy. Green tea, black, or spiced?”

  “Black. With sugar,” he said, and read what he had written before he had fallen asleep in mid-sentence. He had no idea how he had intended to finish that line.

  He rewrote it—with a verb this time—and sorted papers in the briefcase until he had located a map of Senjin. He sat trying to fix in his head the relative position of the rail yard, the lord’s residence, the media station, the road that led to Lusi’ei, places where action had taken place. The maps were detailed, but there was no overview.

  He hoped, fervently hoped, that they would not be going down there on this trip. He was not strongly in favor of risking even the engine in sending Bregani home to deal with the crisis, leaving them stranded here for who knew how long, if the train or track were to be compromised.

 
; But the dowager had promised it, and by all rights, Bregani needed to go back, even to a situation of great risk. That risk was part of being who he was.

  And it was not as if the Shadow Guild was going to invade Senjin. That might well have happened during the Troubles; but the Shadow Guild was few in number, no longer masquerading as other than they were, and most of all, no longer able to issue orders to honest Guild. The more of that breed the true Guild could draw out of the landlocked Dojisigi mountains and into confrontation, the better.

  But as Bregani had said yesterday evening, the Shadow Guild’s moves would be stealth. Assassination and sabotage. And it was fairly doubtful they would send their major assets into Senjin now. Once they realized Shejidani Guild was present in force, they might actually try to withdraw whatever they did have in Senjin, to keep from losing them. And just as energetically, the Guild operating now in Senjin would want to prevent that.

  “Bren-ji.” Jago arrived quietly beside his sitting area and slipped into a seat, forearms on knees. “We have just received a signal from Homura, through the Guild network.”

  That was a surprise.

  Homura and Momichi, the team who had theoretically doubled on the Shadow Guild and settled their man’chi on him—before disappearing again into the south to try to find their missing partners.

  “In Senjin?” he asked, and Jago indicated the negative.

  “They are here,” Jago said. “Or at least one is, using short-range to signal us. They do not have our current codes, but the sender is using what we arranged when they departed our company, a signal unique to them. They request a meeting, with some urgency, responding to our attempt to contact them when we left Najida.”

  “They cannot have come up from Senjin last night.”

  “Nothing has come up the grade, and we have watchers on that route.”

  Half-frozen watchers, if that was the case.

  “There are,” Jago added, “other routes, the ways the local folk use, and likely have used to enter the town. We have them mapped. But it is not easy for outsiders to find a welcome in those remote villages. No. The likeliest answer is that they have been here. There are outsiders coming and going in Hasjuran. When they came north to move against Lord Tatiseigi, Hasjuran could have been the route they used, and they well may have contacts here.”