Emergence

by C. J. Cherryh

  More—Antaro and Jegari had every reason to believe their parents might come in. They had only touched the foyer last night—high-ranking Taibeni were not given to visiting strange manor houses, or any house but their own lodge in the heart of the forests. The lords of Taiben, in all of time, had never come visiting anyone in the association, and Lord Keimi was coming at least as far as the steps to speak to Uncle. That was something, in itself.

  • • •

  The shuttle is now under ground control, word came, hand-couriered from Shawn’s office. Station handed off control to Port Jackson, as of 10:48 local, landing at 11:30 tomorrow. They’re entering low orbit and they’ll be waiting out a little weather to our west. Weather tomorrow morning looks good and a morning landing is optimum—politically speaking. I told them just for God’s sake be safe. The airport landing makes me nervous as hell, but I guess they’ve got all this down to routine by now.

  Well, that certainly changed the plans for the day. “Kate,” Bren said in a brief phone call. “That wall color we argued over? How about gray?”

  “Gray,” was Kate’s response. “Goes with everything.” Deep and audible breath. “I think we can do that.”

  God knew what mountains Kate was going to have to move between now and tomorrow morning.

  Red would have been just too damned obvious.

  That ductwork revision had to be finished, that was all—unless the kids were going to be Shawn’s guests in Francis House until it was, and that was just far too political. Crews might work all night, but it was going to be finished.

  “The shuttle is confirmed for tomorrow shortly before noon. They will land at the airport. The spaceport runway is still under construction. The runway there would serve in an emergency, the freight handling apparatus is fully functional, but the public facilities are not, as one understands.”

  His aishid was all attention. It meant—going home, and novel as the experience had been, they were glad of that.

  But it also meant what his aishid dreaded most: public appearance. It meant watching the kids arrive, and turning them over to Shawn’s security, hoping that nothing would go wrong. It was not a situation the Guild was used to dealing with, but it was what they had to do.

  “I intend to be as minor a presence in the event as I can manage,” Bren said. “We shall be there as faces the youngsters and their parents know and trust. We shall meet them, assure ourselves they are well—then we shall introduce them to Shawn, and stand back and stand aside to let it be a Mospheiran affair. Their arrival at their new home—I do not think we should be at Heyden Court at all. They should not be seen as passing into our hands. The three young students will be there. The children will meet Kate-nandi. And Sandra-daja.”

  “Cake,” Tano said. He had mentioned that cake more than once.

  “I have no doubt there will be cake,” Bren said, amused. “I suspect, however, that she cannot manage midlands pickle, which the children have come to enjoy. I suspect Narani might greatly please her with that recipe.”

  “Perhaps,” Narani said gravely, “Sandra-daja will reciprocate with the secret of icing.”

  “One does not doubt,” he said, making a mental note to ask that, among the diminishing list of things they had yet to do.

  He hoped—hoped Irene was not sick, coming down. She had been, the first landing. And she was coming solo. Irene had escaped her mother. Renounced her mother, however tangled those feelings might be.

  Irene had stood on her own, on the station. She’d gained the dowager’s approval. But administratively, she’d had to have some parent, so administratively, and he hoped, practically, she’d been handed off to Gene’s mother, a quiet, humble-mannered woman with a son who’d also grown up much too soon, trying to take care of a mother who was coming apart. Anna Parker survived something terrible, maybe more terrible than the others, maybe less; but once she’d escaped the horror of the refugee section of the station, she’d begun to change. She’d been far more at ease among the atevi than Artur’s family had been. And when told she was to stand in as Irene’s parent, she’d positively blossomed. Being given responsibility for Irene had seemed to work a change in Anna Parker, a spark of . . . self-confidence, perhaps. Self-respect, at least. Whatever it was, he had hopes for it. Irene seemed to touch a basic kindness in Anna Parker, a lot like Gene, and that—that might be what Irene most needed.

  In point of fact, between the two possible options, Artur’s father had seemed a little strict, and Anna Parker had seemed permissive enough to get along with Irene’s independence, that was all. But maybe, just maybe, it would work out better than all right. He hoped so. He hoped everything for those kids, on whom so many hopes rested.

  Not least among them Cajeiri’s. The three kids were a friendship made in hellish circumstances. Cajeiri’s wiring was as different from them as his aishid’s was from his own—Cajeiri collected associates, collected them with a set of standards and a complete passion for their collective welfare, because—well, that was his nature. He was not only atevi, he had an aiji’s drive to take power and run things his way.

  And thanks to Ilisidi, a strong sense of responsibility came with it, a need to figure out what was right and what worked. His emotional makeup and the kids’ was not key and lock, but it was a good set of interlocked branches, young trees grown together. Cajeiri would understand atevi, the others would understand Mospheirans and Reunioners, and the world was going to change, with those kids well-grown and in charge someday.

  He’d cast one leaf onto the waters when he’d set one Guy Cullen into a relationship with the kyo.

  He’d cast another when he’d supported Cajeiri in his insistence on maintaining an association with humans, a situation that likewise had yet to prove itself.

  He’d been a risk-taker in years past. With nothing to lose, he’d cast himself down mountain slopes and let himself fly in a set of decisions that had no delay and no second try. He’d found skiing cleared his head for his regular problems. It had kept him from expressing his opinions in the Linguistics Department, it had kept him and Toby in touch, no matter his mother’s favoritism, it had prepared him to deal with Tabini, God help him.

  There were just some times he had stopped and looked back and thought—God, was I there? Did I just go down that hill? I’m an absolute fool.

  Here he was in charge of three children’s lives and safety, working them into the Mospheiran government, making them virtually Shawn’s kids, dragging every resource he could command into the setup. He was bending time and lives, shaping how the Reunioners were going to fit in, how the whole sequence of events that had separated the colony into two antagonistic packets, one bound to land, one headed off with the ship—was finally going to resolve itself.

  Or not.

  He had the sudden view from the snowy mountaintop, the dizzying perspective of the downhill skier, the whole lower course beginning to be obscured with fog. Mist covered everything. He had been in that situation. It still recurred in dreams.

  No choice, no way down from here but to launch and go. It was a lifetime too late for anything else.

  • • •

  Information arrived in the conservatory in bits and pieces, through Guild communications, mostly, though there was a phone call that Uncle took personally, and listened, and nodded as if the person on the other end could see him. “Uncle,” Cajeiri wanted to say, “you have to say something.” But whatever it was seemed to satisfy Uncle . . . one thought it might involve Lord Keimi coming in, maybe permissions at the gates. “Not at the train station?” Uncle asked then, and frustratingly, Cajeiri could not hear the answer, but Reijiri’s guard was due to arrive by train this morning, so surely that was what it was. “We can send him.”

  That was entirely puzzling.

  But then Uncle gave the phone back to Heisi-nadi.

  “Well,” Uncle said, “I had hoped to have y
ou here, Nomari-nandi, to meet Lord Keimi, and various notables of Atageini, among other matters of the day, but it seems the Guild has urgent need of you in Ajiden. They are, it turns out, at the gates.”

  “At the gates,” Nomari echoed, looking entirely dismayed. But he said nothing except, “Thank you, nandi.”

  “Is this the aishid he should have?” Mother asked, frowning. “Or is this the Guild’s investigation? They have had no time to have come from Shejidan!”

  “We are not, frankly, certain,” Uncle said, “but I assure you we shall have it clear fairly shortly.”

  “Aiji-meni,” Rieni said very quietly, at Cajeiri’s elbow, “you might order us to ask Headquarters before this mission comes that far onto the grounds.”

  “Do!” Cajeiri said, and Rieni walked off across the conservatory, his back turned, and doubtless with communications engaged that Guild had not used in days.

  “We should have asked,” Mother said.

  “We certainly have force enough here,” Uncle said, and in a moment Rieni, his back still turned, made a Guild-sign with his free hand.

  “Authorized,” Haniri said, no faster than Cajeiri recognized it for himself. Rieni stayed in the exchange for a moment, then walked back to them and gave a little nod.

  “The Guild-senior of the senior unit,” Rieni said, “is Adiano. We know her. We are confident in the information. Her instruction comes from Headquarters, who report, unofficially, that the documents are filed and you are, though unofficially, Komaji-nandi’s successor. You have an official escort, an assigned aishid.”

  “Well,” Uncle said, “that is welcome news. You will of course go. And you will take your followers. If the Guild is seeking information, they may have some to give.”

  “I am overwhelmed,” Nomari said. “I shall have no fear for myself, nandiin. But I hoped that I would be taking these people to a safe place.”

  “Guild will surely see to it,” Uncle said, “if your people follow instructions. And one does suggest you state that firmly to them.”

  The phone was ringing. A servant picked it up, hastily brought it to Heisi, who said, “Nandi, the call is for our guest.”

  “Ha,” Mother said, and they all watched as Nomari took that call.

  “Yes,” he said, and: “Yes, aiji-ma. Absolutely. One is so grateful, aiji-ma.”

  Then he looked uncertain, and looked at them, still holding the phone.

  “Well,” Mother asked. “Are you confirmed?”

  “I am,” Nomari said, seeming a little dazed. “He said I was. Is that it?”

  “It certainly is,” Uncle said, amused. “You are indeed, baji-naji, equal to myself—to Lord Keimi—to Lord Machigi.”

  “Not—for a time, nandi. I have years to learn a tenth of what you know.”

  “Well, well, Lord of Ajuri. Baji-naji, that is what you are, neighbor. And one assumes you will gather up all your people and take advantage of transportation. If you need advice, ask your aishid. Call me. I shall be very willing to advise you.”

  “What shall I do now? I need to advise my people. I need to change clothes.”

  “One hopes you will meet your aishid,” Uncle said, “and certainly you will accept our gift of wardrobe, such as it is. You will offend us if not. My staff will pack for you. Heisi, see to it, both here and all the personal belongings that may be in the tents. All our Ajuri guests will go, as many trips of the bus as may be necessary. Eight seats for the aishid on the first trip.”

  “Nandi,” Heisi said.

  “See?” Uncle said. “A simple thing. You will need a major domo you can rely on. You must work that out. Guild will assist you. Very senior Guild. And of course, your neighbors. One suggests you attempt to rehabilitate staff such as you can, but do not trust too much. I would, were I asked, which I am not, first look to those staff who put out the fire, and perhaps look to those who have come forward to speak to the Guild. Were I in your place.”

  “Nandi, I—shall take your advice. Every scrap of it.”

  “The young aiji’s aishid advises you your Guild-senior is known to them, and you may trust them. You may learn how extraordinary a recommendation that is. I would say the Guild is determined to install a presence in Ajiden that the Shadow Guild will neither subvert not surpass. Trust them.”

  There was the sound of motors, more than one, Cajeiri thought. Onami had retreated somewhat from the area and was speaking to someone not present.

  It was happening. Heisi had gone off to direct staff. And news would be reaching Nomari’s followers very soon.

  “Nand’ Reijiri,” Uncle was saying, “may I beg your forgiveness—that we shall not be able to provide the bus until afternoon.”

  • • •

  Something had arrived. One had no doubt of it when all four of his aishid suddenly stopped, listened to empty air, and Banichi and Algini both went immediately back to the rear of the apartment.

  “There is a message,” Jago said. She and Tano were still seated, waiting, as he was. “From Tabini-aiji,” she added after a moment.

  “Good news,” Tano said then.

  Good news was the sort they rarely got. Bren found his shoulders braced even against that, because it even more rarely meant good without a slight complication. He really, truly wanted not to have that call which meant charter a plane, go to the airport, fly straight to Shejidan.

  Banichi and Algini came out of the back rooms with the expressions that might attend fairly good news.

  “There is a new lord of Ajuri,” Banichi said. “His name is Nomari, grandson of Nichono, approved by the aiji-consort, the young gentleman, and Lord Tatiseigi.”

  Lord Tatiseigi. “So the feud is ended?”

  “Apparently. He is assembling a party at Tirnamardi and will take possession in person.”

  The Atageini-Ajuri feud had been part of the scenery not quite as long as the Taibeni feud with everybody, but it seemed, if there were no but—the geography of the midlands had just shifted.

  “Dur is present, offering felicitations,” Algini said, “and Geidaro-daja is confirmed dead, confirmed to be Shadow Guild action—none of them caught yet, but names are known. Ajiden suffered only minor damage. Guild units are now in Ajiden, and will remain in Ajiden looking for information, such as they can get, on Shishogi, on any other subject of interest. The new lord will be protected in Ajiden, and Headquarters has given him a very skilled senior aishid, one whose focus has been, for the last while, unraveling Shishogi’s mischief and tracing Ajuri’s connections to Kadagidi. They are investigators, and they may become permanent with this new lord, granted he can gain their man’chi. Certainly they are experts in the dealings of the Padi Valley Association, all of it, and there could be no one more qualified. This new lord has an asset that can keep him alive, if he will listen to them. There is that matter.”

  That was good news. That was unqualified good news.

  “The aiji also wished to forewarn you, Bren-ji,” Banichi said, “that the aiji-dowager is in residence at Najida. And that Machigi is her guest there.”

  • • •

  Word had spread. And noise had begun, in the lower hall, a buzz of voices so urgent that Nomari begged leave to go down.

  “When you have your aishid,” Uncle said. “Wait. Take my advice and wait.”

  Nomari waited, and fretted.

  But it was not that long before heavy engines rumbled up before the front doors, more than one motor, to be sure, and Rusani reported two trucks had arrived.

  It took only a moment more before the lower doors opened and two units of Guild came up the two short flights to the hall.

  They were not junior, that was clear by the scattered gray in the hair of one unit; and the other unit were no youngsters, either, Cajeiri was sure of that. They presented themselves respectfully to Lord Tatiseigi, and to him and Mother, to Reijiri,
and then—then to Nomari.

  “Nandi,” the foremost said, a woman with a particularly fierce look. “We are here by assignment. I am Adiano. My partner Sadito, our teammates Kurali and Senami.”

  “We are assigned to you,” Adiano said, “on what may become a life assignment, the center of which is keeping you safe, nandi, as your aishid, by your will and ours. We are directed by the aiji and the Guild Council to take you to Ajiden and see to your safety. Beyond that, we are at your orders.”

  “I am ready,” Nomari said in a voice not quite steady. Nomari cleared his throat. “I hope you will extend that protection to the people who have supported me in coming here.”

  “If they stay close to you, nandi, we shall give it a high priority. We have two trucks. We are advised that we may have the use of the bus sitting at the front steps. That would let us accomplish this in one trip.”

  “You are most certainly welcome to use it,” Lord Tatiseigi said, “provided its driver goes with it and returns forthwith.”

  “Nandi. Thank you. Let us set this operation in motion. How many shall we transport, and with what baggage?”

  It was, shortly, as if a storm had blown through the front doors. “Will you be comfortable here, nandi,” Adiano asked, “while we arrange transport?”

  “Yes,” Nomari said quietly, seeming a little overwhelmed. “We have two groups, nadiin, those in the house who gathered here with me, and those outside, who arrived from Ajiden last night—who have pledged man’chi. They are under my protection. But with caution, nadiin. With some caution.”

  “My aishid will assist,” Uncle said dryly. “And there are a few uniformed Guild we shall send with you, who may have had a reconsideration of man’chi, wherever it may have resided.”

  “Nandi,” Adiano said, and gave, Cajeiri thought, a slight nod toward him—but not him: toward Rieni and his unit, just behind him. “We shall deal with the problem. Your leave, nandiin.”

  She turned toward the stairs.