Peacemaker (13 page)

“His attachment is inconvenient, at the moment!”

“When is it ever convenient? Your years and mine pass at one speed—but the boy? His years race toward a new age,
his
age, in which
he
will face decisions without the benefit of
your father's
bad example—”

“Do not call upon my father for an example! And while we are praising the efficacy of your teaching, my
father
was all your handiwork!”

“Back away from that brink, grandson! My
son
had
his
father for an example! He had flatterers at his ear whom
his father
allowed in court! And he had the same damnable, wilful temper! I have no idea where you acquired it, if not from your grandfather! It passes in the blood, I suspect, and is
none
of mine!”

“
You
have no temper?
Ha!
”

“Aijiin-ma!” Bren said. “One would treasure the thought of unanimity in an undertaking, unanimity, and harmonious good wishes.”

“See?” Ilisidi said.
“
Harmony.
There is a word for you, Grandson. Can we manage
harmony,
in the few hours before the paidhi undertakes a great risk in our names?”

Tabini's nostrils flared. His scowl did not much diminish, but his voice was quieter. “We have been informed of as much as we wish to know, and we greatly mourn our lost aishid at this moment. These young men who serve us now have all the will and courage one could ask, but have not yet acquired the skills or the rank to undertake a challenge to the Guild. And the risk we run in this operation is life and death, nothing less, not alone for the paidhi-aiji.”

“Not for him alone,” Ilisidi said. “But we have a plan.”

“We are
sure
you have a plan,” Tabini said, “and that we are about to hear it.”

“We have unexpected assets,” Ilisidi said, “which will not, perhaps, surprise our enemies, since the events at Asien'dalun, but arms which will protect these foreign guests,
and
your son, and the rest of us while these things are underway, and in any attempt at a second coup. Bren-paidhi, do you concur? More to the point, does
he?
”

Jase. Jase, who had surfaced only briefly this morning to confer with him, and who had graciously informed Narani he and his bodyguard would rest and allow the household to rest—unless the young gentleman needed them. And who had already taken the responsibility the dowager asked.

“Jase-aiji does concur,” Bren said. “He understands the risk, and I already have his promise. No hostile operation can reach this floor with his bodyguard in place. One cannot swear to the safety of the entire building, but the safety of the persons on this floor—yes, aijiin-ma. This Jase-aiji has told me: he
can
contact the station without going through the Messengers' Guild, and if Lord Geigi were advised that you, aijiin-ma, or the young gentleman, his guests, or the spaceport itself were threatened with any harm, we all know Lord Geigi has the means and the will to act. Lord Geigi has, nand' Jase informs me, considerably fortified the spaceport in this last year. And should any violence overtake you, aiji-ma, Jase-aiji would immediately move to your defense. It would be a very foolish act to attack here in the Bujavid.”

“A foolish act, or an entirely desperate one,” Tabini said. “And should they have any such notions and find themselves countered, they may well become desperate.”

“Jase-aiji's weapons can defend you. More, he will get you and the aiji-dowager and your son to safety at the port . . . should there be need.” He saw Tabini take in a breath. “Please accept this idea, aiji-ma. Preserve
yourself.
We cannot have these bandits in charge again. The aishidi'tat cannot suffer this again. Rely on Jase-aiji. You will be constantly
in
the network, and in charge of it, at all points. Communication between the station and the ground will not depend on any system they can possibly cut off, and you can rely on Geigi to carry out your orders.”

“We have discussed the resources of the heavens. We have discussed it with Lord Geigi. I have prepared orders, honored Grandmother, which will—just as a formality, since we believe you could bully your way through on any day you chose—put the Bujavid guard and the transport station
and
the spaceport under your control—should anything befall me.”

Ilisidi raised an eyebrow and nodded somberly. “Then we should accept those orders. On the other hand, if we are not permitted to be foolish, neither are you, grandson. The paidhi's plan involves, one takes it,
reaching
the spaceport.”

“My own plan consists in not replicating the mistakes of the last incident,” Tabini said. “Reaching the spaceport, yes. And
holding
it.
And
its communications.”

Getting off the planet, Bren thought, but he had no intention of arguing with Tabini at this stage. If Tabini just agreed to get that far—with Jase—they had everything they needed. “One is grateful for your agreement,” he said.

“We shall not be caught by surprise, paidhi,” Tabini said. “And
you
are not to die.”

Bren inclined his head. “One will do one's best, aiji-ma.”

“Give us back the Guild,” Tabini said. “Give us
that
one resource, and this firestorm over the Kadagidi and the Ajuri will evaporate in the morning sunlight.”

The legislature was in session. The enemy's rumors about the Kadagidi situation would have traveled. One could only imagine.

Would
it all evaporate? He was less sure.

“They can stew,” Ilisidi said with a wave of her jeweled fingers. “Would we had shot that fool Aseida outright.”

“Would that someone had, long since,” Tabini said, and set his hands on his knees, preparatory to rising. “However, honored Grandmother, you will decline to dine with your guests this evening. You will attend
my
table tonight, so Cenedi informs me.”

His own aishid's plan. Guard the aiji. Get their problems into one defensible spot. The aiji's apartment lacked the servant passages that made other apartments a security sieve. Get them all into the aiji's premises and set Jase and Jase's guard to hold it—while they provoked all hell to break loose.

Ilisidi arched a brow. “Dinner, is it?”

“The party will include the young gentleman, his host, his guests, and the ship-aiji, so we are already informed. The paidhi-aiji is invited, of course, as a courtesy, but we understand he has a prior engagement. Now we know what that engagement is.”

“Aiji-ma.” Bren gave a little, seated bow, then rose as the others rose, and bowed a second time. Tabini had agreed.
Jago
had prompted him to ask what he had asked of Jase.
Cenedi
had argued out what they needed from Tabini. Their bodyguards had nudged the pieces into place.

Now the dowager had agreed.

It was done. Arranged. And the action was underway.

In that moment of realization Bren had a little twinge of panic—a sense of mortality. Fear—maybe, at how very fast things were moving. But he refused to entertain it: there was no time for second thoughts. He bowed, saw his guests to the foyer, and watched Tabini depart.

He felt, then, the dowager's hand on his arm. It closed with startling force. “Do not lose,” Ilisidi said, and walked out.

 • • • 

“I have one fancy coat,” Jase said, “for the formal party. Should I wear that to the aiji's dinner?”

“God. No. You can't wear it to both. Borrow one of mine,” Bren said. “My staff will see to it. Brown, blue, or green?”

“Blue.” Jase's own formal uniform was blue. “Moral reinforcement.”

“Your bodyguard will be in armor all evening, until God knows when, maybe into morning. Sorry for them. Staff
will
see they get fed.”

“No question they'll be in armor,” Jase said, “and all of us will be hoping like hell we won't need it. They'll appreciate the food. Especially the pickle, apparently.”

“God, humans that
like
the pickle.”

“They seem to.”

“Amazing. Enjoy your dinner this evening.
Watch
the exchanges between Ilisidi and Damiri—the dowager's going to be on a hair trigger. Damiri's going to be operating with a sure knowledge something's going on and I'm not sure anybody's telling her anything. She's going to be upset. Cajeiri's going to be nervous. Most of all keep all the youngsters low key and don't let them get scared.”

Jase exhaled a short breath. “I'll be hoping to hold dinner down.”

“Calm. Easy. It'll all work. That link to Geigi . . . if you can assure me that's going to be infallible and available from inside the Bujavid, I'll be a
lot
happier this evening.”

“I won't tell you how. But, yes, rely on it.”

 • • • 

It was court dress for the paidhi-aiji, no less, the best, a leather briefcase to hold the relevant documents with their wax seals and trailing ribbons, and, this time,
no
small pistol in his pocket. Bulletproof vests or the like were standard with the Guild itself—it was no problem, Jago told him, for him to take that precaution. But a firearm on his person was not in the plan. Innocence. Absolute innocence was what he had to maintain. There were detectors near the door.

He was nervous as he dressed. He tried not to be. He had to sit or stand while his valets worked, and he found himself disposed to glance about, thinking—I might not be back here again. He caught himself on that one—bore down instead on recalling the image of Assassins' Guild Headquarters, and the floor plan his bodyguard had drawn for him, where the guards would be, and what they had to do in this or that case.

A rail spur ran through the cobbled plaza around which the various guilds clustered. It was an antique line, a track used these days for six regular trains from the old station, four freight runs for the uptown shops and a twice-daily local for office workers in the district. The area saw mostly van and small bus traffic, few pedestrians, except Guild members going to a few local restaurants or to the two sheltered stops, since there were no other businesses nor residences in the area.

They would have someone in place to shunt the train off onto that spur, and that would get them into the plaza.

That part had to work. The train would reach a certain point—and stop, not at a boarding point.

There were sixty-one paces from a certain lamp post to the steps of the Assassins' Guild, seven shallow steps up to the doors that had to open, and beyond that, three taller steps up to a hall that held all the administrative offices which ordinary non-Guild might ever have reason to visit—prospective clients might have business there; witnesses called in particular cases might give depositions there.

Each of those nine offices had a door and small foyer, each outer door being half hammered glass, the inner generally a full panel of the same.

Each office also had a service entry in the rear, onto a hidden corridor. Those could pose a problem.

Each office was staffed with lightly armed Guild clerical personnel, but they were visited, occasionally, by regular Guild on business, who might pose a more serious threat.

The hall reached a guarded door at the end, a single door that divided the public from the one other Guild section that was ever available to outsiders—the Guild Council.

There was, slight problem, a hall intersecting the left of that door, a short side hallway of six offices, which came to a dead end at the wall masking the service corridor.

That guarded door at the end of the public-access hall opened onto a wider area with a jog to the left, a short continuation of the main hall, and the double doors of the Guild Council chamber at its end. Those double doors were guarded whenever the Council was in session. To the right of anyone coming into that broad quasi-foyer was a wall with a bench, and to the left was a wooden door that stayed locked: that was the administrative corridor, where even high-ranking visitors did not go, and that was Cenedi's problem.

The Council Chamber, those guarded double doors in that offset stub of the main hallway, that was their target—as far as they could get toward it . . . or
into
it if everything worked well.

Arrangements, contingencies, branching instructions, if this, then that, meeting points, timing, nooks in the public hall that might afford protection at some angles if they were stalled and under attack . . . nooks that were no decorative accident, but designed with defense in mind, equally apt to be used by those attacking them: there was one angle, which the guards at the second, single door, commanded, that had a vantage on all three of those spots. . . .

He had never been so deeply involved in the details of a technical operation. They'd taken a space station with less worry.

And he only knew
their
part of it. Cenedi would be in that administrative hallway next to the Council chamber, conducting the dowager's business. Cenedi was the one of them able to get close to the Office of Assignments. Cenedi had the seniority to start with minor business at some minor office in the administrative section and get into that critical hallway on his own . . . they hoped.

And somewhere involved in all this were other persons who were, Jago had said,
in
the city, and keeping a very low profile. That group had heavier arms. They would be moving, somehow, somewhere. Jago hadn't said and he hadn't asked.

But once that contingent arrived—he could figure that part for himself—that outer hallway wasn't a good place to be. Court dress was going to stand out like a beacon wherever he was, as if a fair-haired human didn't, on his own. In a certain sense that fair hair and light skin was a protection: honest Guildsmen would try not to shoot a court official . . . but the Shadow Guild, granted that Assignments had his own agents inside Guild Headquarters, would definitely aim at him above all others. And
that
part he really didn't want to think about in detail. Not at all.