Текст книги "Deceiver "

Автор книги: C. J. Cherryh

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Negotiating with the Farai, who had occupied the paidhi-aiji’s apartment and refused all hints they should quit the premises.

Negotiating with Machigi over old issues, as Machigi rose to power over the dead bodies of certain relatives who had supported the usurper Murinic

All leading to this.

Suddenly the argument between the dowager and Tabini about the Edi assumed a wholly different character. Reshaping the balance of power on the coast, hell! Reshaping the entire western half of the aishidi’tat, was what. Tabini had had an operation underway and Ilisidi had moved right into the middle of it with heragenda.

And co-opted the paidhi-aiji into it.

He felt a little sick at his stomach. He looked at four faces gone utterly solemn, four close associates who absolutely understood how the game had changed—and changed in ways that profoundly affected the mixed company on this bus.

“Indeed,” he said, “I see.” Pairuti, like Geigi, had no children. Baiji was, in fact, the governing line’s main hope in that regard. So there was no family to get swept up into the order, but– “Is there a chance, still, nadiin-ji, that we can still go through with our plan and give Lord Pairuti the chance to resign?”

Banichi, Jago, and Tano all looked to Algini for that one. And Algini frowned.

“The order is without prejudice,” Algini said, “regarding his situation. He isgiven that latitude.”

“Is he viewed as complicitous, Gini-ji?” Bren said.

“As having cooperated with the Marid during the Troubles, nandi,” Algini said. “Complicitous to that extent.”

“Many did,” Bren said. “There is that extenuation. The demise of Lord Geigi’s sister, however—”

“He is not faulted in that,” Algini said.

“Can we give him at least the chance, then?” Bren said. He had never participated in an assassination order. He had the most extreme qualms, even to the extent he wanted to order his own aishid to hang back and not get involved. “Nadiin-ji, the paidhi-aiji is neutral. I am an intercessor, not—not the lord of Najida, in this matter. But one cannot jeopardize the mission, either, to the aiji’s detriment—or to the risk of his agents. One finds oneself in a most uncomfortable position.”

Banichi said. “We should take the house. That must be done, efficiently and completely, Bren-ji. If you say preserve him, we shall do that.”

“If,” Bren said uneasily, “if you can do it without risk to yourselves.” He took a deep breath and wiped his face with his hand. “This is whythe Guild has a policy against involving outsiders, is it not, nadiin-ji? I am a fool. Forget everything I have said. I withdraw my statements. I place nosuch restriction or request. My intercession should have been with Tabini-aiji, notwith Guild assigned to carry out his decision.”

“Yet Lord Pairuti could provide useful information,” Banichi said. “It is not an unwise choice, Bren-ji. But the decision must be politically supported. That is not our decision. If you say help him live, we can do that.”

“What does Lord Geigi’s aishid say?”

“They are willing to go in andto take down the lord,” Jago said. “But they are notcurrent with technology down here. It would be a risk we would not wish them to run. And they may have a personal connection with members of the household. That is another risk.”

“We and the dowager’s men can take the house,” Banichi said. “We have no question.”

“The aiji’s menc” Bren began.

“We do not discuss that, Bren-ji,” Jago said—which told the story. They were undiscussable and they were going to vanish at some critical point. It took no great wit to know they were going overland and across the local border, and in what direction, and why they were not lingering to assist his operation.

Bren absorbed that information, and Jago said, further: “There are others. Many others.”

So thatwas how they were staying current with the situation. Relays—possibly something set up on Maschi landc and there were Guild out there—many others, Jago said, moving by stealth. Bren cast a look forward, where Geigi and his aishid sat—the bodyguard reading or with heads together in converse, Geigi still seeming to be asleep.

And one could not leave hanging the question of what to do with Lord Pairuti.

And one could not ask Geigi, either, nor get any useful opinion from Lord Geigi’s bodyguard.

Though one had this most uneasy notion that Geigi’s drowsiness might notbe due to the schedule they had kept—that Geigi might be far more aware of things than he wanted to be, and intended to minimize what he did know.

The paidhi-aiji could have done the same thing—sit still while his bodyguard arranged things.

But his aishid had outright invited him into it—which meant, he thought, that they wanted him to make the political decision on what wasleft vague in their orders.

He went back to his seat. His aishid settled around him. Lord Geigi stirred somewhat, but never opened his eyes.

They sat, on a bus rolling along toward a major problem, and stayed in silence for a while, in a landscape no longer even relatively safe.

God, he had promised Toby. He had promised and offered assurances he had thought were reasonable, knowing the way political kidnappings usually ran, and now Barb’s safety was nowhere assured in this. A whole quarter of the aishidi’tat was about to go up in major hostilities. Tabini was using their visit to the Maschi as cover for the wholesale movement of major forcesc to attack the Marid in what amounted to war.

It was Tabini’s right to do it to them, and Tabini would naturally regret doing it—but—

Damn!

There might be villages deeper in the folded hills; they likely were numerous, with market roads leading elsewhere. This road bore an overgrowth of brush, opportunistic plants that sprang up in the clear spot a road madec indicative of a road unused for a space of time.

Except that this growth of brush had been broken down by a recent passage that might or might not be intermittent trips to the Separti road. One rather thought of the appearance of Marid Guild turning up at Kajiminda, and then at Najida, and Marid cells in Separti and Dalaigi.

Tabini’s reinforcements would have gotten ahead of them, clearing out any ambush. He had to rely on that.

One had no idea what they might arrive to find at Pairuti’s estate, Targai: the place in a shambles, or standing pristine and only this morning in reception of an official notice that there wouldbe assassination attempts, an endless succession of them until one succeeded or until the contract was set aside. The Maschi were of course entitled to send theirGuild members to assassinate the aiji without legal consequence, but it would be an enterprise little likely to succeed: the odds were somewhat lopsided.

The official notification of the Filing, which they had to pass to Geigi at some point before they stepped off the bus, would lend a certain flavor to their arrival. That was dead certain.

17

« ^ »

Mani had gotten a courier message. Jegari could not find out what it was.

That was interesting.

It was more interesting that mani ordered better dress and all of a sudden more men on the roof and had a private conference with Ramaso.

“You stay here with nand’ Toby,” Cajeiri said to Antaro, who was the more level-headed and the gentler of his aishid. “If he wakes up, say this.” And he said, in ship-speak: “Cajeiri is talking with his great-grandmother,” and made her say it three times so he knew she had it. “And if he insists he needs me, send a servant to find me. We told nand’ Bren we would stay with him, so we can never leave him.”

But he went and put on his best coat and gathered up Jegari, and went and asked permission to visit mani.

He halfway expected mani would say no and go away. But Nawari let him in, and told Jegari to stay outside.

Mani was sitting by the fireside in her usual chair. She was very formally dressed and very grim. Cajeiri went up to her and bowed very properly.

“Well?” she asked.

A second bow. “Nand’ Toby is still all right, mani. He sleeps a lot. Why are we all dressed for court?”

“Because my fool grandson—your father—has launched a war and Filed on the lord of the Maschi!” Great-grandmother snapped. “A war long overdue, and one we have counseled long since, but it is highly inconsiderate of him to do so with the paidhi-aiji and Lord Geigi in such a position. We asked for support, not, baji-naji, a general conflict with the Marid! We are highly incensed!”

“Are they in danger, mani?”

“Oh, doubtless they are in extreme danger! The Maschi may by now have been advised that they will be attacked, they will draw an immediate conclusion when the bus arrives, and if they have Guild borrowed from the Marid, thoseclans will also have been notified they are to be a target. And if you were Lord Machigi, what would youdo?”

“I would be very careful to keep Barb-daja alive and I would try to take nand’ Bren prisoner, too.”

“Brilliant! Unfortunately that is exactly what he will do. And your father did this in full knowledge of where the paidhi-aiji is going. Oh, he has committed an extraordinary number of Guild to protect them, but this is a high risk. One assumesthe Guild has notified the Marid—or is in the process of doing so. And has it deliberated with noadvance word getting to the Marid or to the Maschi?”

“They did not tell you, mani.”

That stopped Great-grandmother for a breath, and made her look sharply toward the other room, which might be where Cenedi was.

“Also,” Cajeiri plunged ahead, because the thought had occurred to him, “if I were Machigi, and I knew we were here, I would be verysure to try to catch you, mani, and me, even if my father hasgot another heir on the way.”

Great-grandmother frowned at him, and Cajeiri decided he had just been scarily pert.

“Well,” Great-grandmother said. “Well! Is my great-grandson possessed of any otherthought?”

He bowed. That was always safest. And thought fast. “It would be good,” Cajeiri said desperately, “if Machigi came here, since they would not be attacking nand’ Bren with all their people, and wecan be ready for them.”

Great-grandmother suddenly laughed aloud, the grim lines fracturing into great delight. “Great-grandson, you have your father’s nerve and, one is very glad to see, ourwits! We have sent word to the Grandmother of Najida. We are about to call and thank your father for the extravagantfavor he has done us all at this delicate time. And we are calling in the Gan.”

“The Gan, mani-ma?” He knew about them. They were very much like the Edi, also from the island of Mospheira from when the humans landed, and they were independent like the Edi, but also allied to them, and lived on the northern coast near Dur.

“Relatives of the Edi, seafarers, who will be glad to be invited into a quarrel with the Marid. Your father will notapprove, since they will be asking for the same privilege as the Edi, an estate, a state, and a lordship of their own, but we have another strong connection to them. Do you recall the young pilot, Great-grandson, who showed up at Tirnamardi?”

“Without a doubt, mani-ma!” He was immediately excited. It had been a beautiful yellow plane, and the young pilot dashing and gallant, and he had wanted to fly, too. “He is not Gan, however, is he, mani?”

“He is not, nor is his father, but in the way Lord Geigi has represented the Edi, his father represents the Gan, and stands for them, and he will immediately see the benefit in defending us. A threat to the paidhi-aiji will bring them here, we have no doubt. So go! Consider how you and your aishid will protect nand’ Toby if we come under attack. We shall need to take shelter belowground and we have that pernicious nephew of Geigi’s in our way.”

“We could move the stored things up into the suites, mani, and clear the storerooms and then we would all fit downstairs.”

“Good! Flexibility is a commendable trait. Send me Nawari while you talk to Ramaso and have it done.”

“Yes,” he said. He had never been given an important job until yesterday; and now mani handed him one, too, and he was supposed to be in two places at once. Mani clearly was short of people to take her orders, which meant she had everybody busy.

He stopped outside, where Jegari waited with Nawari. “Gari-ji,” he said with a little bow. And another: “Nawari-nadi. Great-grandmother wants you immediately. Gari-ji, come with me.”

“Where are we going, nandi?” Jegari asked.

“We are on Great-grandmother’s business,” he announced with some satisfaction, and headed off at a quick pace.

He was not sure he could get Ramaso to do what he said, and move all the furniture. But he intended to try, without any recourse to adult authority. He had gotten fairly good at getting his way.

It was becoming useful, even to mani.

18

« ^ »

The land had begun to rise again, as the bus entered a region of white rock and ancient, weathered evergreen, under a noon sun. One sat thinking about snipers, and watching those high rocks with some misgivings.

But it was, given other information, likely that those rocks were already cleared, and occupied by Tabini’s forces. One didn’t ask—only trusted that if their bodyguard were in the least suspicious, they would all be sitting on the floor.

Then the roofs of a village appeared in the distance—reminder that whatever force they could bring to bear, Maschi clan territory had a fair population. This village would belong to an affiliated clan, the Pejithi, who lived their lives and conducted their commerce with the capital, and likely with the Marid.

In the distance, around a bend in the road, and past an intersection with a better-used market road, rose a different outline, the sprawling roofs of a noble house of that same white stone, a noble house surrounded by a ruined remnant of its fortified walls, sign of great antiquity in this region.

Nowadays the breached walls, interspersed with zig-zag rail fence, would simply be keeping wandering herds of game out of the formal gardens that showed in those gaps. It was a picturesque house, with its two standing towers and its curved tile roof, a regional style. The television antenna somewhat spoiled the effect.

Lord Geigi stirred from his nap, or his pretense of one, even rising from his seat for a moment’s better look out the front window.

“I have not seen Targai since I was a boy,” Geigi said to Bren. “It has not changed. Not visibly. Except for the antenna. And the power lines.”

One of Geigi’s bodyguard said: “Best sit down, nandi. For safety.”

Geigi sat down. The bus kept up its steady pace toward the gate.

At any moment, literally at any moment, they might come under fire. And as yet nobody had said that the non-Guild among them should get down on the floor.

“Should one not get down at this point?” Bren asked Jago.

“We have surveillance on the grounds, Bren-ji. But if you would feel safer, do so.”

“The aiji’s men are already here?”

Jago shrugged. It fell under the heading of not discussing Guild operations, but one began to regard those ancient towers in a different light. He had the very uncomfortable vest on—leaving his head vulnerable, but that was, he hoped, a significantly smaller target, and one did not expect the paidhi-aiji to be wearing body armor.

He sat where he was, behind opaque windows, as the bus pulled into the drive and trundled on around to the great house.

A pair of Guildsmen in black exited the house—placing themselves in great jeopardy. And if those were not the aiji’s, Bren thought, his pulse racing a bit, they were likely native to the region, and deeply loyal, to be exposing themselves like that—granted they knew about the Filing.

Their own situation was potentially looking up—or getting far worsec because that brave gesture of peace politely required another, reciprocal gesture, which—he felt a rising tide of apprehension—had to come from Guild of similar rank, unless they meant to wade in shooting.

The bus braked. Banichi and Jago got up, and Bren bit his lip and knewwho had to deal with this welcoming committee.

He leaned forward, himself. “Nadiin-ji,” he said. “Tell Lord Pairuti he has a safe refuge with the paidhi-aiji if he will take it. Tell them so, urgently.”

Jago listened, then inclined her head once, grimly, before the door opened and she followed Banichi off the bus—Tano and Algini taking up position with leveled rifles behind them in the doorway thus exposed.

The bus door faced the welcoming committee. There were weapons in evidence on the other side, but not drawn.

And wherever Tabini’s men were, it was not, at the moment, here, where such a threatening presence would have been very useful.

One of the pair said—Bren could hear it clearly: “Stand there, nadi.”

And Banichi answered her: “Advise Lord Pairuti, nadi, that he has an offer of safety and personal intercession from the paidhi-aiji. Your lord, we believe, is aware of the Filing of Intent.”

“He is aware of it, nadi.”

There was a moment of silence, then. Bren could not entirely see what was happening because of the doorframe, but he saw Jago standing quite, quite still, with her hand ominously near her sidearm.

“There is a signal passed, Bren-ji,” Tano said without diverting his eyes from their potential targets. “Banichi has asked whether they are under duress. They have responded they are under internal threat.”

Handsigns, that silent language of the Guild.

They had a problem, then. Marid agents—in the house. These two were out here in a desperate bid to negotiatec

Either that, or these two were lying and intended to set them up.

Tano said, sharply, “Bren-ji, up! Get off the bus. We are taking the house.”

Damn! Bren thought, and flung himself to his feet and around the rail to reach the steps with Tano and Algini right with him. He thought he was going to run for the doors. But Tano seized him around the ribs in one arm and outright carried him to the front of the house, setting him down to the side of the entry as Banichi and Jago kicked wide the half-open house doors and fired one volley down the hall.

Then they were not alone. From cover of somewhere—the ornamental bushes down the drive, the ancient, crumbled masonry beyond, God knew—there suddenly appeared other black uniforms, guns lifted, signal of peace.

Tabini’s men, Bren thought, heart lifting.

The two local Guild meanwhile turned their backs to the situation, hands held outward, a declaration they were not going to contest the takeover, Bren saw with a sideward glance. He felt sorry for them: they were in a hell of a situation, relying on hisword there was a chance to save their lord.

But if the wrong word came out of the house, those two would fight. And die without a chance.

Geigi’s guard had reached the door of the house just a little ahead of Geigi himself reaching Bren’s position. The bodyguard had their rifles aimed generally up, but a scant heartbeat from going level and wreaking destruction down the hall.

Tano and Algini kept themselves in the way, cutting off view of any proceedings inside the building, while Banichi and Jago continued to issue orders from just inside. Nobody had touched the two local Guildsmen, who had not moved in all this, not a muscle.

“Lord Pairuti is offered the paidhi-aiji’s intercession!” Banichi’s voice rang down the hall. “Let him come out and surrender to the paidhi-aiji!”

There was silence inside. Bren was not in a position to see what was going on; there was a large bush and Tano’s very tall body between him and the hall. Tano maintained a grip on his arm with his left hand, the rifle in his right, tucked under his arm. On the other was Algini, also armed, and partially blocking his view of Lord Giegi, who was similarly jammed into the bushes, with four or five of the newly arrived Guildsmen between their positions. The two still-armed bodyguards maintained their posture, waiting, arms outstretched, unmoving.

“ Come out!” Banichi shouted down the inner hall, with Jago standing right by him—her rifle aimed right down that hallway.

Fire came back, a shot so loud Bren jerked; and in the same muscle-twitch their side fired back.

“Stay here, nandi!” Tano said, half a heartbeat behind Algini moving. They took up position in the doorway: Bren stood pat, heart pounding, wondering what had happened, whether Banichi and Jago were all right. He could just see Banichi down on one knee, with rifle braced to fire. Nobody was shooting now. And in a moment Bren saw Jago shift into view, standing, rifle covering the hall.

Algini moved, to insinuate himself past the open door and cover both Banichi and Jago, with no fire at all.

Then Bren became aware that Guild around them had moved—some vanishing from the driveway without a sound, just gone, when Bren looked back in Geigi’s direction: the corner of the house offered a likely destination. Others had dragged the two locals out of the line of fire and applied medical aid to one of them—who must have been felled by that shot.

For a moment that gesture of mercy was the only movement, one of the two brought down by a shot presumably from their own side, and surgery being performed right on the driveway, in the cover of the bus.

Not a nice situation, no.

But it was over, he was thinking, starting to plan how he was going to get into the hall.

Banichi and Jago opened fire suddenly, a deafening discharge; and simultaneously moved, with Geigi’s bodyguard at their backs. There was nothing Tano and Algini could do about the situation, not with two helpless lords in their care. Bren had the pistol in his pocket, but he left it there: they already had the example of friendly fire on the driveway. And he stayed right where he was, beside the open door, next to a row of bushes; and they daren’t budge from here. Geigi was immediately behind him.

Get back to the bus? It was a sitting target, even if it hadn’t gotten so much as a ding in its painted panels on this venture.

Better to be where they were. Unless things went very, very bad in there.

And God, there were so many ways it—

Blast from inside. Grenade, or boobytrap. There were wires that could take a head or foot off. There were a hundred ways the Guild could kill intruders in a territory they had prepared for invasion; and Bren stood there against the bushes trying not to think of that.

Then massive fire erupted inside the building.

Followed by a deafening silence.

Stinging smoke wafted out of the doorway.

And out of that smoke, Jago appeared on a leisurely retreat, spoke code into her com, and looked as if she had understood something in the instant before her eyes shifted for one split-second toward Bren and Geigi.

“The aiji’s men have come into the house from the garden entry,” Jago said, watching down that hall again, “meeting ours.”

“Are they all right?” Bren asked in a low voice—not wishing to distract Jago from business; and in fact Jago’s look of concentration never broke from the hall.

“They have asked the same of us,” Jago said under her breath. “There are targets on the grounds. Probably it will be best to move inside the house, Bren-ji. Now.”

Bren moved, jammed his hand into his pocket to find the butt of the pistol, and, with Jago, Geigi, and Tano and Algini, rounded the corner into the hallway.

Banichi, two of Geigi’s men and a handful of other Guild were the only persons standing under a high pall of smoke in that hall. Two people in civilian dress were sitting on the floor, knees tucked up, against the wall—denoting their noncombatant status, and inconveniently far from any side door. Those were servants.

Two other Guild lay face down in a pool of blood. He and Geigi were still near the door, with their bodyguards; and Tano, stepping to the side, drew Bren against the wall there– a safer place than mid-hall, in case anybody should burst out of one of the side rooms firing, Bren thought belatedly. Geigi was in the same defensive position, their bodyguards arrayed as a living shield between them and anybody appearing from down the hall, and Algini, at their rear, guarding against anybody trying to retreat into the house and coming at them from behind.

Not an optimum approach, if they wanted to save Pairuti and what he knew. Bren looked at Geigi and saw distress: not an optimum homecoming, either, with dead in the hallway and house servants trying desperately to keep out of the line of hair-triggered Guild. Banichi signaled the two servants they could move to safety, and they quietly did so, getting into a side room, shutting that door.

So they were the only possessors of the hall, now. And the whole house grew very quiet for a moment.

Then shooting erupted outside, somewhat to the rear of the house, and again from the roof right over their heads. Footsteps sounded on the ceiling.

Attics. Attics in this district were a hazard, and this house, like Najida, like Kajiminda, was in the peak-roofed, sprawling style that had a full reach up there. Bren cast a worried look up, tracking that sound.

“They are ours up there, nandi,” Tano said then.

That was a relief. What was going on out on the grounds was another matter. Fire kept up.

And their chances of finding Barb alive grew less and less—if she had ever been here in the first place.

One had, lifelong, become philosophical about Tabini’s little surprises. Bren had told himself repeatedly it was how Tabini stayed in power. It was the way atevi managed things, and it was not the paidhi’s place to critique it. The paidhi, however, hadaccepted appointments—had risen as high in politics as it was possible to rise, infuriating Tabini’s opposition, astonishing his supporters.

And here he was, having involved himself in a district where peace had never existed, not since the War of the Landing, when the Ragi atevi agreement to pull two aboriginal peoples off Mospheira and settle them on this coast had thwarted their own major rivals, the Marid, in their grab for the same coast.

A quiet district, yes, under the threat the central region posed to any breach of order; but not peace, nothing like peace.

And the paidhi-aiji had been oblivious to the undercurrents sweeping toward an attack on the Marid, despite Tabini’s personally reconnoitering the region, despite Tabini’s curious engagement with his grandmother on the topic of Edi sovereignty. The paidhi-aiji had gone on assuming Tabini was going to stay out of it and just let his grandmother make her peaceful deals.

And it was Tabini, of course, who had givenhis resident human an estate in the plain middle of an old, volatile situation.

Tabini might well have known the district was a tinderbox when he’d cleared Bren to leave the capital and go vacationing on the coast. Tabini claimed not to have known. But that was not guaranteed to be the truth. Tabini was completely capable of sending somebody in to stir the pot.

God, at the moment he so wished he’d just gotten a hotel in town.

Another burst of gunfire, right out front. He hopedTabini’s men were enough. This was not a good position, standing here in the front hall with the doors open.

Better than standing out there in the bushes, however.

And Geigi—he threw a look Geigi’s direction and caught a grim expression. Hell of a homecoming, all around, first at Kajiminda and now at Targai. Geigi and Geigi’s bodyguard surely had their own sentiments about Tabini’s actions—a human was not, possibly, wired to understand precisely that mix of emotions, the profound draw of man’chi toward Tabini and those aggressive urges of a born leader—literally, a born leader—and the draw of their own duty to Pairuti, who’d made a hash of his leadership of their clan. Grasp what a clash of emotions was going on in Geigi? Probably. Intellectually, he could.

Feel it the way Geigi felt it, in his gut? Not likely.

Have a clearer head than Geigi did at the moment? He might well. He didn’t trust that gentle Geigi wouldn’t order somebody shot.

It had gotten quieter outside all of a sudden. That was either good or bad. If bad, they were in the next place trouble would arrive.

“Nadiin-ji,” he said very quietly. Tano and Algini were on high alert, watching any movement down the long hall, where Banichi and Jago, nearly back to back, were directing men probing other hallways. “How are we doing out there?”

“The aiji’s men have the roof and the tower,” Tano said, “and are reporting no movement on the grounds.”

That was a relief. “Barb-daja. Any sign?”

“No, Bren-ji,” Tano said. “Regretfully, not yet.”

“The resistence is partly local,” Algini said from behind him, without losing his concentration. “Partly outsider. Marid, likeliest, the first shot, that hit the man out front.”

Thus starting a firefight—since all the local Guild, aware of the Filing, were going to assume they were under active attack. Their incursion had had everything under control, they’d been about to draw Pairuti out under a safe conduct and the local Guild had been taking it slowly, trying to get the best possible situation for their lord.

And then somebody had fired and hit probably the Guild senior of Pairuti’s bodyguard, maybe not even aiming at Banichi. The Marid would be completely willing to see the place shot up, Pairuti silenced, his honest Guildsmen dead, and things in as big a mess as they could possibly be.

That added up to Marid infiltration. Pairuti had let these people in, the same way Baiji had done, and they’d taken over, the way they’d taken over Kajiminda.

After a long period of maneuvering to get himself in the right in public opinion, Tabini now had a provocation that would be evident to the whole world.

With his own grandmother right in the middle of it.

Maybe for once Tabini had even surprised Ilisidi. Thatwould be a first in planetary history.

Deep breath. Tabini also trusted the paidhi-aiji wasn’t going to get himself killed to no particular advantage. Tabini expected his people not just to sit still in whatever situation he’d engineered them into.

Damn him.

“Where is Pairuti at the moment, Tano-ji?” he asked.

“We believe, in the sitting room, nandi. But we have not gone in there yet.”

“I need to reach him. I want him alive, Tano-ji.”

Tano threw him a look.