Текст книги "Peacemaker"

A half hour later a little rap came at the door. Jago entered the office and closed the door behind her.

“Bren-ji,” she said, with an I’m-on-business directness.

“News?” he asked, remembering his aishid had been in conference with Cenedi’s lot. He turned his chair, expecting information from that meeting.

She stood in front of him, arms folded. “We have a plan,” she said, “of sorts.”

“One hears.” He stood up, courtesy, where it came to his aishid. And her. “You did receive my message from Narani.”

“Indeed,” she said. “The change does not interfere. In fact—it may be a useful distraction.”

He thought he was relieved to hear so. “What is our situation?”

“We have a twofold problem,” Jago said. “First is safeguarding the aiji and the young gentleman from counter-attack. Securing the service passages—we have done that. But this enemy may be on staff in the Bujavid, or in the Bujavid guard, or maintenance, and more—certainly for a time, and if things go wrong, permanently so—we will not be here to protect this floor.” Jago held up a thumb. “We need to order the Bujavid guard and civilian personnel not to access this floor at all. Only Tabini-aiji can give that order. We ask that you obtain that, in the aiji’s own defense.” Index finger. “We need you to ask Jase-aiji to enforce that security with his guard tonight.” Next finger. “We need you to ask Jase-aiji to be prepared, under the direction of the dowager or Lord Tatiseigi, to take Tabini-aiji, the young gentleman, and his guests down to the train station.”

“The train station.”

Third finger. “At need, Lord Tatiseigi’s bodyguard will seize control of the Transportation Guild office in the Bujavid station long enough to commandeer a train. This is Lord Tatiseigi’s part of the plan, with our modifications: it will not be the Red Train, but a freight. It will have clearance to the spaceport, and it will be defended by the dowager’s own bodyguard. Once inside the spaceport perimeter, Jase-aiji will defend the spaceport, pending the shuttle’s preparation to take them to the space station.”

Evacuate the ruling family? God. The port, given warning, was now a defensible area—especially with Geigi in possession of the other shuttles and no few ground installations which themselves could pick up and move.

But at no time had Jago said where he would be during all this maneuvering. He ached to ask. Disturbing Guild in laying down instructions, however, was not a good idea. He understood the part of the plan he had heard thus far: the port was as secure an onworld position as they could achieve.

And beyond that—with Tabini and his son in orbit, inside Geigi’s protection, and unassailable—their enemies would have no chance of staging another coup, no matter how extensive their plans.

With the spaceport on the continent in the aiji’s control, and with an adequate landing field and service facility at Port Jackson Airport on Mospheira—loyal forces could come and go. They could take key units up to the station and send them back down again for whatever operations they wished to undertake. His aishid had talked about that before now.

Militarily—it was a good idea. The Shadow Guild would not be able to reach them. Politically—it had serious problems. They had discussed that, too.

Were they down to that?

Last finger. “That,” Jago said, “if things go wrong.”

If things go wrong. He was vastly relieved to hear that she was laying down a contingency. And they all knew the problems with it. Doing that, lifting the aiji off the planet, would weaken the aijinate. For him to run, for him to shelter himself with humans, for him to abandon his people in a crisis and shelter behind human weapons—would say things about the world’s situation, and about the relations between atevi and human . . . that they never, ever wanted to have happen.

And to what is this the contingency? he wanted to ask. But he waited.

Jago folded both arms. “The plan.” A deep frown. “All this last year, not knowing what enemy we might face, but knowing there was at least one individual we needed to reach, we—and the dowager’s aishid—have had a list of individuals who are not in good favor with the Guild Council. We are now in contact with individuals in the central district and on the west coast—and this is, for political reasons, the best idea. We should not appear to rely solely on the East.”

The East—being the aiji-dowager’s territory. He clearly understood the politics so far. And he suspected which “list of individuals” Jago meant. The Missing and the Dead . . . who were no longer counted loyal, or reliable.

“Member access to Guild Headquarters has been severely restricted,” Jago said, “since the aiji’s return to office. Ordinary Guild members no longer have routine access beyond the entry hall and the offices there. The Council Chamber is now restricted to those on the Council agenda—and the Council, of course, controls who gets on the agenda. The administrative hall adjacent to the Council Chamber has been declared off limits to anyone except very high ranking Guild on official Guild or state business. All these measures are new, all since the coup. They call it security. It is an inconvenience. Ordinary members have simply worked around it.”

He still listened. Clearly enough—they were talking about Guild Headquarters, on the other side of the city. They needed to get inside. And it wasn’t easy.

“If we assault Guild Headquarters head-on,” Jago said, “and break down the doors—there will be key personnel inside that we cannot contact safely, persons who would join us if they knew what we know—but who, if they do not, will obey Council orders until the end. It will mean the loss of innocent and important people, a loss to the Guild—and assuredly the loss of records we need. If Assignments has any warning at all—those records will certainly go.”

Records detailing the whole pattern of personnel assignments, Bren thought.

“You know,” Jago said, “that certain of the senior Guild went underground when Murini came in. Some that were listed as dead—were not; and are not; and among them are those who operated the network to bring Tabini-aiji back. The seniormost have claimed retirement. Others have stayed dead—for the record. They have now watched the Guild purge itself once, and twice. The current Guild leadership has repeatedly ordered them back to duty, and they have not come in. This war of wills has been going on since the coup ended. Personal issues are certainly at work. These people are not in agreement with current leadership. What I am about to tell you, even the aiji has not heard—and is not to hear; but you need to know, Bren-ji.”

“Whatever I should hear, Jago-ji, I shall keep even from the aiji.”

“This, then. Three individuals head the current Guild Council. One of them is compliant with the other two and more a failure than a problem. The other two have a pattern of action we question. They have pushed through, with a rapidity that admits no debate, whatever the Office of Assignments has recommended—including the recent assignment of chief officers in the Dojisigin Marid. During the trouble in the west, when we needed assistance, they were slow in moving forces, so much so that Tabini-aiji himself took the field, because his presence trumped the process of querying Guild Council. And at a critical time when the retired Guild might have been willing to assist the aiji’s action in the south, the Guild diverted itself from assisting Tabini-aiji and us, as we had requested—and instead sent a mission to arrest the two seniormost retirees—an extended distraction that ended with one unit dead and the retirees officially outlawed. It is an outlawry without effect, since there is no other Guild in the area where they are—but it is on the books, and will justify whatever Shadow Guild can eventually reach them. The Missing still ignore the Council’s orders. But they do not ignore us. We—Cenedi—and we—have been in contact with them since we returned from Najida, since the Council’s attempt to arrest them. We sent a message yesterday morning, before we went dark, using your name, requesting a boat sent to Najida. This was code. We have had one contact since, a contact face to face, in the lower corridors, directly with us . . . with us, because they will not deal with Cenedi in this matter.”

“Because he is Eastern Guild.”

“Exactly so.” Jago drew a deep breath. “Neutrality in disputes is the cornerstone of our guild. And there has been a cascade of events breaching that tradition: unFiled attacks on civilians, violations of code, Council refusal to bring charges in several cases, Haikuti among them. The Missing have seen the whole world change, Bren-ji. They did not approve of the space program; they fear Lord Geigi. They do not so much distrust Cenedi as they do not want the appearance of relying on the Eastern Guild. The decision they themselves made, long before the coup, to back Shishogi’s quaint demands and reject computers as a human gift—they know now that was a serious mistake. They have reconstructed, with far more names than we know, what decisions set certain individuals in charge of certain offices that arranged the coup that set up Murini. And they know that Haikuti was involved in the attack on the aiji at Taiben, and that he remained, until yesterday, untouched and his location known—they gave us names to watch. We checked them out. We reported back information—both gave and received it. The fact that Tabini-aiji had banned the Kadagidi lord—also isolated Haikuti in safety from arrest. And the Guild has kept Haikuti’s records as secret inside its files as it does any other unit’s records. But the Guild in exile knew what he had done. And what information they gave us greatly troubled Algini, and troubled Banichi most of all. Tano and I—we had no idea of it. But when we went there—when we went to the Kadagidi estate—Banichi expected trouble. He and Algini expected trouble. And he did not tell you. He was held between a good idea—a chance to build a clear case against the Kadagidi—and the fact that he and Haikuti had come to blows before. He was also preserving the secrecy of our information source—and he was caught between that necessity, and the fact that even yet there was no proof, absolutely none, of what he and Algini had learned from our sources.”

“Is there any doubt now?”

“None,” Jago said. “None in my mind. But, Bren-ji, be warned: the people we are dealing with, the Guild in exile, are not people who favor humans. They are, however, and always have been, immaculately loyal to the law. And, being Guild, they have no reluctance to take a pragmatic approach. To restore the law, during Murini’s rule, they were working with humans on Mospheira. They never favored Tabini-aiji because of his association with humans, but to restore the Guild to what it was, they will now support us and support him. We have their word. As of last night, we have their word. They are leaving their identities for the second time. Leaving families. Breaking off marriages. They are coming in—to take back the Guild, delve into records, and restore the law.”

“What are the odds?”

“As things stand—we face a bloody confrontation with innocent members that could see the wrong side win, or at best, rob us of proof. Shishogi, if he sees himself apt to be dismissed, will destroy records. The law depends on proof. The Guild enforces the law. We administer the law. We support the law. And if those of us against the current Council cannot prove our case to the membership, if Tabini-aiji has to uphold us only by decree, and by the power of the aijinate—the Guild will never again be what we were. We need an authority and a legitimacy that can only come by us standing in the Council Chamber and proving our case, that the Council itself has broken the law.”

“Can you do that?”

“Under the charter, and under current Guild rules, there are only two individuals who can enter that building and demand attention from the Council, whatever its agenda. Tabini-aiji can. The aiji-dowager can. And she wishes to do it. She is Eastern, however. The Guild in exile will balk at that thought.”

Ilisidi?

Good God. She walked with a cane. She was fragile. Walk in there, into a fortress and demand the Assassins’ Guild leadership politely resign in favor of their enemies?

Only two individuals could get in there. Legally speaking.

He suddenly knew what Jago was working toward.

“I can be either of those persons,” he said.

“Your aishid has very reluctantly entertained that thought, Bren-ji. If you can get through the front doors of Guild Headquarters, officially, we can get in with you. If Cenedi also happens to be inside the building on the dowager’s business, with a small attendance of the dowager’s men . . . as he can do on his own, being head of a regional Guild—and if several other units currently active happen to be there, on other business on the floor above . . . we can open the building from several different points at once. Baji-naji, we can prevent the records being destroyed.”

“So.” He drew a deep breath. Force his way into Guild headquarters?

He’d worried a great deal, on that train ride, about his aishid eventually deciding to take on Assignments themselves—entering the Guild’s headquarters, trying to penetrate the defenses of the whole rest of the Guild . . . because he could not see the Assassins’ Guild turning over records at anyone’s asking, even Tabini’s.

He’d not remotely thought they’d ask his help. But it made sense.

“So—” he asked. “What would we have to do, Jago-ji?”

“Pass the doors all the way to Council, while it sits in session. If it will admit us, and hear you, well and good. If not, we set ourselves in a single critical doorway, between the hallway straight ahead, which is the Council, and the hallway to the left, which leads to Assignments, and we keep that door open, preventing them from sealing the heart of the building. Likely—most likely, Bren-ji, the Council will refuse to hear you—considering the situation with Lord Aseida. That would actually be desirable. Outright refusal would be quite acceptable. Hearing you have arrived, they will view you as, if nothing else, a move by Tabini that they do not want to deal with, and that they will want to stall—especially if they get wind of any physical movement by the old Guild in the city. But should they actually let us into the Council chamber, we will be in position, and we will be armed.”

“How—armed?”

“The ordinary. Indeed, Bren-ji, we have even thought of Jase-aiji’s weapons. But we cannot set that precedent, and there are too many innocent people in the way. We shall have our legal sidearms. Cenedi will have no more nor less than that. And his is the more dangerous task: Assignments will know what happened in Kadagidi territory . . . and if we are unlucky, Assignments and his allies in Council may know that we have been in contact with the opposition. Assignments will be particularly unhappy to see us—and Council may set up protection and issue orders to stop us at the doors. If we are lucky, they will become busy watching us and not watch Cenedi. We shall have no idea how things stand as we go in. We shall need speed, we shall need precise coordination with our other units—and all this without any recourse to Guild communications. We shall need the front doors opened, and, ideally, that second door opened and held open. Both are our problems. The aiji-dowager cannot do this. For one thing—their refusal of her would connect with a political history in the legislature that does not suit us. For another—you can move faster than she can. You are as recognizable as she is. And you are willing to take cover. We are not so certain about the dowager.”

Grim joke. But he didn’t have the right reflexes. He couldn’t react quickly enough, nor in the right direction. He was a liability under fire. He’d proven that often enough.

Worse, they would instinctively try to protect him.

“I fear being a risk to you, Jago-ji. I am entirely willing, but I fear moving in the wrong direction. And I absolutely do not want to put you at risk protecting me.”

“There are things you can learn. That you must learn, to do this with us. And you will definitely be wearing the vest.”

Bullets hurt. God, they hurt. But that was nowhere in any important calculations. “Then advise me what I need to do, Jago-ji. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Moving with us is important. We can coordinate very precisely without communications, given a known distance and a precise rate of movement. We do not wish to look as if we are counting—but we will be counting. You will practice that with me.”

He nodded. He knew how that worked. “Yes.”

And the rest—he would do. The stakes were that high. And it was going to be a very, very narrow window they had if they hoped to act fast enough to get at those records.

Were there people who could step into the breach and deal with the political situation if he and his aishid were shot down in a hallway?

Tabini and Geigi could.

His own brother, Toby, would connect with the Guild in exile, and with Tabini.

And never discount Ilisidi. Keeping her alive and safe was a priority, especially if anything happened to them. The plan could not entail putting her at risk.

“We are far from pleased to ask this, Bren-ji. It will be an extreme risk, and our priorities in this, you are right, cannot be to protect you. Of all units that could get in, we are the youngest, and our field skills, unlike some of the senior Guild, have not rusted.”

“Baji-naji, Jago-ji. Our instincts in such a situation are occasionally at odds. We discovered that on a hillside in Malguri, and I apologize that I have not in the least reformed, though I know more than I did. I confess I am far happier to go in there with you than to send you in there without me. I know your feelings are quite the opposite. I can only say I have gotten cannier over the years.”

“You cannot go armed, this time, Bren-ji. There will be detectors.”

“But you can.”

“We, certainly. But you, and the documents you bring to the Council, must represent the aiji, on some matter that can be proven, even if we cannot file them, to be completely within the aiji’s rights—and completely apart from the Kadagidi matter. There is our proof of Council misdeed, do you understand? That is our issue.”

“Indeed.” He drew in a breath. And let it out again. “Well. Well, I shall wear the vest without a complaint on this outing. And I shall stay with you, Jago-ji. When shall we do this?”

“This evening,” she said. “When the Guild Council meets.”

This evening.

God. He was not mentally ready for this.

But he had to be, evidently. He had to be, to do the things that needed doing. Anything else—gave their enemies time to figure them out, or for something essential to leak, and for lives to be lost. Or the whole effort to be lost.

Tonight it was, then.

“Is Banichi going?” he asked.

“He has pills for infection, pills for pain, and a stimulant which he may be taking in excess. He has to be there—he promised the exiled Guild he would be. And,” she added, “he is added firepower.”

He understood it. He far from liked that part of it. But he understood what it was to have a member of a team down: it was like an arch missing a keystone.

“He has Algini for backup,” she said. “He and Algini both know the senior units on sight, as Tano and I do not. And the plan does make sense. What more we need—you, Bren-ji, can get a document from Tabini-aiji, something with conspicuous seals and an abundance of ribbons, on a matter we might reasonably bring before the Guild.”

“I shall get it,” he said.

This evening, he thought. Damn.

He needed to have his valets set his court dress in good order for reasons not to do with the impending holiday. And he needed to write a few letters he hoped Narani would never have to send.

Then there was Jase.

He had to talk to Jase.

 · · ·

“We have a difficult day planned,” was how he began, with Jase, alone, and with the inevitable pot of tea between them. But human-fashion, and because time was short, tea and discussion of business were simultaneous. “We’re going into the Guild offices tonight to get our target. We’re figuring how to get through the doors.”

“We.”

“My aishid. And I. Politically—you should not be involved in this. You should not be in the least involved.”

“Damn, Bren.”

That was of curious comfort, that human expression. Toby would say just about that if Toby were here. He was very glad Toby was not.

“What can I do?” Jase asked.

Toby, he thought, would ask that, too.

To that, he had an answer. “This. Guard the aiji. Guard Ilisidi. Guard Tatiseigi and the children with your weapons. With everything you’ve got. If you’re attacked here, get a message to Geigi. Ask for help, tell him everything we know, and very likely at that point you’ll be paidhi-aiji.”

Jase took a deep breath. “You’re not taking stupid chances, are you?”

“I have no intention of it. But my aishid is going in, for reasons they explained, so it’s down to me. I’m the only official who’s in any degree expendable. I can get through a certain door that needs to be opened, that otherwise would cost lives. My credentials can do it. And if the people in charge try to stop me—we’ve got all the legal grounds we need for what happens next. Which will either go as we hope—or not. Say that having you for backup and knowing they can’t strike at our backs, so to speak, will make me a lot happier this evening. If the aiji and his household are safe—they can’t win.”

“Whatever I can do—yes. No question. But understand—if things blow up down here, I’m under orders from Sabin to get myself and the kids back to the spaceport.”

“Exactly what we want you to do. And take Tabini-aiji, the aiji-dowager, and Lord Tatiseigi with you.”

“Are they going to agree to that?”

“I’m going to arrange it at least with Tabini, and I hope he can move the other two. In whatever happens—these are the people to trust.” He held up three fingers. “Those three.” A fourth. “Geigi.” The thumb. “My brother Toby. Any Guild working for the three. Or for Geigi. My brother’s partner Barb: she understands security and secrecy, she’s loyal to him and she’d carry a message, but she’s a bit scattered.”

“Understood.”

“If you come under threat, don’t waste time wondering if you should go. Go. Take everyone you can, the aiji, the aiji-dowager, Cajeiri, the guests, and anyone they insist on taking, and get down to the train station. That’s the most direct route. There’s a danger of someone blocking the tracks, but agents of ours are going to take control of the Transportation office in the Bujavid and try to keep that track clear for you. If at any point you are blocked, stay with the train, defend your position, and trust the dowager’s people to identify anybody showing up with alternative transport. However you can, get everybody to the spaceport, shut the gates and trust no one from the outside of that fence. If for some reason you can’t reach the spaceport—get to the Taibeni and the Atageini or the dowager’s fortress in Malguri as a place to stay: but those are survival scenarios. The goal is, as soon as possible, get everybody up onto the station, link up with Lord Geigi, and sort it all out from there. Do not let the dowager or the aiji convince you to stand and fight. If you need another paidhi, consider my brother Toby. Clans that can help you: Dur, for sea transport; Taibeni, for hiding; and Atageini, for political fights. Beyond that—you do the planning.”

“You’re not to get yourself killed, Bren. I really want you to avoid that.”

“I really intend to.”

Jase drew a deep breath. “Understood. I’ll do it, Bren. Me, Kaplan, and Polano—we’ll do what we have to. Any help we can give you. I know Geigi’s the same.”

“This one, this one is something worth the risk. We’re going in to rescue the law. The Assassins’ Guild is the law, and it’s had something wrong in its gut for a long, long time.”

“Can you fix it?” Jase asked. Outsider’s question, clear and cold and honest, and for just one beat of his heart Bren asked that question of himself.

Then he thought of his bodyguard.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, we can fix it. There’s enough of us.”

“Four of you,” Jase objected, then, atevi-fashion: “Five.”

“A little more than that. I don’t know all the plan. They’re still working it out. But we’re going in to open those doors all the way to the inner halls and pose a serious problem to people who deserve it. And we’ll fix it.”

“Rely on me,” Jase said. “Concentrate on yourself. Here will get taken care of.”

 · · ·

There were, after that, letters and authorizations to write. In case.

To Cajeiri he wrote: Place yourself and your guests inside Jase-aiji’s protection and obey his orders without question. He will be protecting those of you in the Bujavid. I am going into this with good hope of success, but should you be reading this letter, something untoward has happened, there is a threat to you and your guests, and your great-grandmother and your father and Jase-aiji will protect you and Lord Tatiseigi by wise actions. You are an excellent young gentleman. Apply yourself to become an excellent and wise aiji, when that day comes. I am glad to take this action for your long life and success.

To Toby: Brother, if you’ve gotten this letter, things have gone wrong on the mainland and very likely I’m not on the scene any longer. Contact Geigi. Don’t come to the mainland until you’re sure it’s safe, and until Geigi and Jase agree it’s a good idea. If things I arranged went well, Tabini and the aiji-dowager and the heir will be on the station in safety. If not, they will be in places you can guess. Get into communication with them. Tell the President to avoid any provocation of the mainland and consult closely with Lord Geigi. Do what you can to keep the world safe. I love you, brother. And I rely on you. You don’t have the command of the language I do, but you’ve got the understanding. I’ve told Jase that when he has to pass the torch, you’re it. Trust Ilisidi, trust Geigi, trust Tatiseigi, Dur, and you know the rest of the names. Take good care of Cajeiri. He’s the future. You and Barb—stay safe as you can.

To Tabini: One regrets very much, aiji-ma, that I was not able to come back. Rely on Jase-aiji and on Lord Geigi. I have arranged everything to get you and your household to safety and for you to accomplish the defeat of your enemies, the restoration of the Guilds, and the preservation of the aishidi’tat with as little loss of life as possible. I have absolute confidence in your leadership of the aishidi’tat, and I say freely that you have been the great leader that I have hoped for.

God, he hoped that letter never had to be delivered while he was living. Tabini’s ego was large enough.

Rely on my brother-of-the-same-parents, Toby. Rely on all the ship-aijiin, who view you as a very valuable and trustworthy ally; and especially rely on Jase-aiji—he is a good ally, a human who will not change sides, and an authority with great power in the heavens. Do not, however, trust Yolanda-paidhi: she has changed.

Believe that you have earned the confidence and good will of humans and atevi alike. Rely on your grandmother and on her allies. She has always favored you and your son above all other answers for the world.

To Ilisidi:

If you are reading this at least my own part of it has not gone well. I am therefore doubly glad and honored to have replaced you in this venture, and regret only missing the actions you will take next, which I hope will be initially down the paths to safety and power that I have spent these last hours securing for you.

Rely on Jase-aiji, on Geigi, on Lord Tatiseigi, my brother Toby, and know that I have watched over you in these last hours. Thank you for many actions which you know and which I will not mention. If any of my aishid survive, take them to your service, as I also hope you will look favorably on my staff on station and my major domo and my senior staff once you return to the world.