Emergence

by C. J. Cherryh

  “And school,” Kate said, “will begin for them on the 23rd. Time enough to settle in. They’ll have two hours in gym and art, then some academic tests to figure out where they are in various subjects.”

  “Knowledge of Mospheira,” Bren said to Sandra, “zero, knowledge of the universe at large, probably greater than ours. Definitely the instructors will have to figure all that out. But the kids will learn—faster than we expect, likely.”

  “Sandra and John will be on premises at their arrival to get them settled in, show them how to deal with household knobs and buttons, and maybe walk them around the premises, which you might like to do.”

  Bren shook his head. “I’m going to need to get back to the mainland pretty quickly.”

  Sharp, quick look. “Trouble?”

  It was Kate. And Sandra. He had no need to conceal anything.

  “It’s not impossible I should have to go back to the mainland early. Don’t take it for alarming if I do. Not for public knowledge, there’s a little activity in the central clans that’s apparently come to a crisis, and I hope it will settle quickly with no further damage. Or turn out with a situation better than it was. Which is apparently a possibility. So is worse, unfortunately. If worse—I will have to go. Sandra, Kate will fill you in, but the phones between here and the mainland are an absolute sieve for information. The Messengers’ Guild has been a problem for as long as electricity has figured in it, and probably before that. The system doesn’t get fixed because all sorts of sides know how to operate with it as it is, and nobody trusts it would really change, only that their side would be disadvantaged if reform came through, so it’s been going on for years. It’s getting inconvenient, but everybody’s made so many accommodations to get around it, it’s almost an industry in itself. Communication to and from the space station is where it gets really inconvenient, and Lord Geigi and the head of the Messengers are always back and forth in territorial issues—he does ignore them, at need. He tries to do it as infrequently as possible: Tabini used a courier on the first message, but things must be changing rapidly, so Geigi’s been brought in on it, and protests from the Messengers’ Guild may probably be flying even as we speak.”

  “But it’s safer over there now,” Sandra said hopefully. A question. “You’re not getting shot at.”

  “Not too recently,” he said, not quite a joke. “Honestly, the situation is overdue to settle—the patch on it has been wearing thin over the last entire year—so it coming to a head is not a bad thing, granted they really have found a viable a solution. Keeping the peace in the central region has been . . . difficult, to say the least, for years.”

  “Are we need to know?” Kate asked bluntly.

  “Both of you are. Keep it close, even from the kids, Sandra, though I wouldn’t exclude John. Kate does know specifics of the history. She’ll fill you in.”

  “Understood,” Kate said. “What about the tutors?”

  “I want those three,” he said, “close to the kids. Right from the start. I’m thinking of taking them with me, at the landing. I’m being called to the mainland. I can’t stay any longer than that, and I’d only be an atevi presence in the event that really should be Mospheiran. The kids’ and parents’ first impressions shouldn’t be of being deserted to a crowd of dignitaries and a row of cameras, either. I think having the people who will be dealing with them part of the first scene is important. You two could be there, if you like.”

  “I’m not for that sort of thing,” Sandra said. “I just don’t feel comfortable being pointed out. My family—my boys—I don’t want them on television.”

  “I quite well understand that.”

  “I’ll be happier behind the scenes, myself,” Kate said. “I’ll meet them at the house. The young folk, however, are a very good idea—for one thing, they’ll need to get used to that publicity. It’ll follow them whenever they take the kids out.”

  It was a good idea. And formal dress to match the dignitaries—that wasn’t who the University lads were. Best everybody who did notice them saw ordinary students, typical University dress; best the kids saw them as what they were, just friendly, enthusiastic, and young.

  He did need to tell them—street clothes, please, just plain Mospheiran street clothes.

  19

  The yellow plane took one noisy pass over the house by way of announcing its arrival, and made a pass over its landing strip in the south pasture, a strip designated by one of the house staff with a small bag of flour.

  Cajeiri was able to watch from the stairwell window. It was beyond frustrating not to be out there when Reijiri landed. But he was not a fool. Things were still unstable in the region, and he stayed by the window as he saw Reijiri come around again and line up on the mark.

  Uncle’s guards were out there. Reijiri’s own were due in on the train in a few hours and the bus, with two new tires from its own storage, was going to pick them up. He had Antaro and Jegari back, and Rieni and all his unit, so if anything came of what was going on at Ajiden, or out of the Ajuri camped on the lawn, it was not going to reach them here. Still—

  He had had a look out the front door this morning. The bus was a truly sad sight, by daylight. The right side windows and the windshield were a mess, hit multiple times, but not broken; while the body was going to have to have panels replaced, so he could fairly well guess where the guns had been relative to the bus.

  And here he stood, watching a little plane coming down, under power, but riding the wind, too, light as a leaf. He had been too worried to think too much about Bren and the island, and the landing there, which was a little scarier, but now it flashed up like a vision. That great heavy machine, bearing his people down to the world to stay. He had spent so much worry on Uncle, and Mother, and his sister, and Nomari, he had just trusted the other end of nand’ Bren’s trip to nand’ Bren—to be there when his associates landed, and to set up things so they would be happy, and safe. Of course they would get down safely. The shuttles had never failed. Of course nand’ Bren would take care of them and have everything set up for them.

  But now—seeing the plane land—he thought of that, and he wanted to be there.

  He could be no help at all. And Father would never approve his going to Mospheira. That association had to stay as it was, and his associates had to learn to live there, which he could not help, either. But his chest tightened when all that flashed into his mind, and he knew—he knew how out of touch he was, and how unsettled everything was.

  Nand’ Bren had promised he would try to set up phone calls, so that he could talk to his associates—not too often; but now and again, to know how they were. They could certainly write letters.

  And if it were not all working out over there, he was sure word would get back to the Guild that there was trouble, and that Rieni would hear about it at his level, even if Antaro could not. And surely Rieni, if he was all that he seemed to be, would advise him, no matter how things were going here in the midlands. There was nothing they could do, but he trusted Rieni would tell him.

  The plane touched delicately down on the grass and rolled out of sight behind the stable, to that place where people would be waiting to meet it.

  “You have not heard anything,” he said quietly, still gazing out the window, “about nand’ Bren, how he is doing? When my associates are landing?”

  “We have heard nothing, nandi,” Antaro said, and Rieni said, “We have heard that the paidhi-aiji is safe and well and making progress, but nothing about the landing. They likely will not announce it until the last moment, nandi-ma.”

  “Tell me, good or bad, the moment you know something.”

  “We know no reason to worry,” Rieni said. “No hint of trouble has gone through the system. But we would not know specifics while we are in the field.”

  “You can ask that we track a situation,” Haniri added.

  “Do,” he said. “
Where you can.”

  “Yes,” Rieni said.

  What else can you do, he wondered, that my younger guard cannot?

  No more, certainly, than my father lets me know.

  He will know how nand’ Bren is, and how things are.

  “Anything involving my family or my associates. Anything that can touch them, nadiin. Uncle. Nomari. Lord Geigi. And Machigi.”

  “Machigi, nandi.” Rieni sounded a little surprised.

  “He is associated with my great-grandmother and with Nomari. I want to know.”

  “Yes,” Rieni said, with peculiar emphasis. He meant it, Cajeiri thought. Rieni was not sorry at all about that order.

  “You should also tell Antaro,” he said. “They always need to know—all the situation.”

  “Yes,” Rieni said again. “This is entirely acceptable.”

  He could not hear, at this remove, whether the plane’s engine had stopped. He thought it would have.

  “I was thinking,” he said, “that Gene and Artur and Irene must be landing soon, and nand’ Bren will see they are settled. When he gets back, one hopes we have his bus fixed.”

  “Right now,” Rieni said, “it is useful. It will be useful in getting you and your mother and sister back to the train station, if nothing else. Your aishid would value that level of protection, all things considered.”

  “Mother is not talking about leaving, is she? I do not think she would, right now.”

  “It is our opinion she will stay to see Ajuri resolved.”

  “Uncle has phoned Father.”

  “Yes,” Rieni said. “It is at that stage of things. And Guild teams have been searching Ajiden the last several hours. Even if they find a cache of records, they will not assume that is the only such. They will search until they have searched everywhere.”

  “What is this thing they have, that lets them see through walls?”

  A pause. “There are some things we know that are not need-to-know, young aiji. You are better-served if the Guild retains some secrets.”

  “I am better-served if I know what my resources are!”

  A second pause. “We are your resources, nandi. We hope to be adequate.”

  Frustrating. But the question had tested the boundaries, and found them.

  Fortunately, Antaro’s team would tell him, if they knew. So he would know things.

  The plane had indeed landed. Lucasi and Veijico were out there, a matter of courtesy, since he had asked Reijiri to come. “Tell him,” he had instructed Lucasi and Veijico, “that I would have come, but security will not let me.”

  “Yes,” had been the economical answer, so he was sure that message would pass. And there would be a guard on that plane so long as it sat out there, Uncle had promised that.

  They no longer had Great-aunt Geidaro to worry about. The Shadow Guild posed a much more serious threat. But the Shadow Guild itself had to be really worried now, with Guild investigators searching every nook of the understructure at Ajiden with, as he had learned from the seniors, that mysterious equipment that could find even hidden compartments. Nobody was going to be allowed down below until the Guild had finished, partly, the seniors had said, as a safety measure, to be sure there was nothing planted on the premises.

  That was a scary thought. But the enemy had already tried to burn Ajiden, which the servants had prevented, so maybe they had been moving too fast to set up anything more thoughtful.

  All that was going on, and Uncle had sent an advisement to Father. So, probably, had Mother. Probably Guild communications were flying all over the place, messages from Taiben and the officials at Diegi and Dur and places he had not thought of. Not to mention advisements from the Guild in the field.

  Now he saw Reijiri and all the escort Uncle had sent—including three of Uncle’s servants, who were bringing Reijiri’s baggage—emerge from behind the corner of the stable. They angled toward the back door, not as elegant a reception, but certainly safer and more convenient than having to walk all the way around to the front where the tents were, housing individuals whose man’chi was still, as mani would say it, not quite baked yet.

  It was time to run—well, to walk sedately, because his senior aishid was with him, and Antaro and Jegari were still not in the best form—up the servant stairs and down the hall to reach the grand stairs and the great hall before Reijiri did. Mother, he was sure, had already headed downstairs. Uncle had. Back in their suite, Eisi and Liedi had already had their breakfast brought up, Boji was back beside his window, fussing, though he had already had his breakfast, too, and he had sunlight and a blue sky outside.

  They reached the head of the great stairs that led directly down to the great hall, and he was so tempted to slide them on his heels, but he walked quite properly, and just as he reached the landing, a noise on the central stairs of the foyer below advised him that Reijiri was coming up from the lower passage, having passed through the hall where Nomari’s people were.

  Cajeiri reached the main floor and immediately diverted himself to the central doors, where, indeed, Reijiri was, and Uncle’s escort. Reijiri let an expression of delight touch his face. So did he.

  “Aiji-meni,” Reijiri called him as he reached the main floor.

  “Nandi!” he said, in an exchange of bows. “Come to breakfast. Everybody is here, well, probably except my sister. She sleeps in the morning.”

  “The little one is here! I hope to see her!”

  “You shall. Come! Come!” He waved Reijiri toward the dining area—staff having, he found, set up breakfast in the formal area, not the breakfast nook, where Uncle and Mother and Nomari stood waiting for them.

  “We present our other guest,” Uncle said after initial formalities, with a nod toward Nomari. “Nomari grandson of Nichono, cousin to the aiji-consort and her line, and soon to be a neighbor to us if Tabini-aiji approves.”

  “Honored, nandi,” Reijiri said.

  “Sit, everyone,” Uncle said. “Let us have our breakfast in proper order.”

  “And a splendid one, nandi,” Reijiri said. “Laboring at first light to assure myself that the fuel pump was sound—and it was and is—I kept myself going with the thought of midlands pickle and sweet jam.”

  “Well, if you have cargo space you shall take a case of each,” Uncle said. “Calling you was the young gentleman’s notion—he has utmost confidence in you; and well-placed, I may say. That is a splendid machine. I approve of small craft with clear purpose, more than these lumbering great sky-freighters. We should paint them in colors, for every capital they visit. Bring some distinction to them. One will never mistake that brilliant little machine of yours, Lord Dur.”

  “One is greatly flattered, Lord Atageini. And indeed, I do make a distinctive target.”

  “Were you hit?” Mother asked.

  “Four times,” Reijiri said, and the fact that he made breakfast conversation of it showed how lightly he took the matter. “One enterprising fellow might have nicked the fuel pump, except that after the little affair down by Najida, I took Lord Geigi’s recommendation—and gift—and put several quite resistant panels in place on the underside.”

  “I think we must all thank him,” Mother said.

  “Profoundly,” Uncle said. “And how is your father, nandi?”

  “Oh, well,” Reijiri said. “I am remiss, nandi. He extends his sincere good wishes.”

  “You have called him, I hope, to assure him of your safety.”

  “I notified staff as soon as I landed at Diegi. I am quite sure he was not sleeping, but he would never confess it.”

  “Of course not,” Uncle said.

  It was a cordial breakfast—Reijiri and Uncle, and Mother, and himself besides Nomari. Everybody knew each other, everybody owed Reijiri and his father the old lord a very great deal, over past years. And Uncle’s kitchens had spared no effort to put on a
massive breakfast, the extent of which Reijiri, who was a thin, wiry sort, nor very tall, could not near absorb. There was tea, there were eggs, pickle, toast, berry jam, sweet pickle, and four sorts of salt fish, salt game, and some fresh, from the market, besides the breads and pastries. It cast Uncle in a very good light, and anything left over would go to Security, to staff, and back to stores.

  At the end of it, when they were about to adjourn to a quiet seating in the conservatory, Nomari came to Uncle with a request to go below and out to the tents.

  “It will give you a time with your guest,” Nomari said, “and me a time to report below. I would like to bring both groups together, at least as many as wish to, and see what we can find out.”

  “Useful as that might be,” Uncle said, also quietly, “it will be more useful to them if you stay here right now. You may find it much to their benefit.”

  Nomari paused, as anybody would, having been handed a puzzling promise. Cajeiri heard it and thought, Uncle expects something even before the sitting is done. A message from Father, maybe.

  “Come,” he said, when Uncle walked away, leaving Nomari confused. “Uncle is up to something. One is not sure what he is up to, but he would not lie about it. Come sit by me. I shall introduce you specially to Lord Reijiri.”

  “Yes,” Nomari said, like Guild, like the trades. And they settled together near one of the large potted plants, an orangelle that was trying to produce fruit, but it was still green.

  Uncle spoke with staff, quietly, then said to all of them, “Lord Keimi is riding in to join us, with a small company. He has passed the gates.”

  They were coming in with Taibeni mecheiti, and the road came between the house and the small cluster of tents.

  Small wonder Uncle would not want a crowd of people out there, with strange mecheiti arriving. Staff would be there, to be sure that the people in tents stayed out of the way. Grooms would be alert at the stables behind the house to be sure the herd stayed quiet. The wind direction mattered, and he had no idea, confined inside, what problem that might present.