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Authors: C. J. Cherryh

BOOK: Tracker
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He hoped he would get to see her soon, before the kyo came and everything started. Gin-nandi was the best. Gin-nandi had been on the ship with them, and she had built the robots the station used for mining, and she would be
fair.
Unlike Tillington.

And she would talk to
him,
if he got to see her. He was sure of it.

And if he got to talk to her, the furtive thought came to him, he could ask her to please be sure his associates were all right. Mani would not be happy about his saying anything.

But he would do it. And Gin-nandi would do something to be sure they were safe. He had every confidence she would.

He just had to plan how to get to talk to her.

When she came, Bren-nandi would not have to stand guard in Central. But she would be there, and Mospheiran Central was on the Mospheiran side, where he was not supposed to be.

Maybe, however, mani would ask her to dinner.

That
was likely. If Gin-nandi came to dinner, then when mani was talking to somebody else, he could get a quiet word with Gin-nandi, lean close and say, really fast,
My associates are trapped. Please get them out!

That was about as fast as he could say it, in as few words as he could say it, and it would make mani really mad.

But sometimes one just had to go ahead anyway.

And a whole lot of things were bound to happen to occupy mani's attention before they all got home.

When they did get home, however, as surely as the sun rose, mani would not have forgotten: she would find some way to make him remember he had gone against a promise to her.

He was too old now for her just to thwack his ear and tell him to mind.

And if he was wrong—if something went badly wrong because of it—

Mani had given him an order. She was not going to discuss it. Not likely. He could ask, but
he
was upset, and that was never going to go well, if he began talking to her.

Nand' Bren was the one who would talk to him, and tell him things.

That was who he had to talk to.

As soon as he could get to nand' Bren. Which was not easy, not being able even to leave the apartment.

There was a stir in the house. He listened to it, wondering if perhaps something had happened to get Guild attention. Or maybe nand' Bren or Lord Geigi had finally come back home, across the hall, or down. When nand' Bren got home, Cenedi at least would want to talk with Nawari, who had been out all day with nand' Bren, where he was.

Then there was a stir in the
back
of the apartment.

And a light went on under the door of his bodyguards' rooms. His aishid had waked. He heard them stirring, and he sat up in bed, shoving his hair out of his face.

“Nadiin-ji,” he said, as their door opened, no longer with the light on. “Is something going on?”

“I shall go see.” Jegari had hoped to slip out, clearly. A message had come through. All his bodyguard was up and dressed. And Jegari left to go ask questions.

It was probably just nand' Bren, who would send Banichi over, likely.

But Jegari came back with somebody who turned the room light on. Cenedi himself had come, and that was scary.

“Is mani all right?” was Cajeiri's first thought.

“She is,” Cenedi said. “But, nandi, one of your young associates is in custody of ship security. Lord Geigi is going there.”

“I shall go!”

“No, young aiji. Not without your great-grandmother's order. She is dressing. She will be in the sitting room shortly.”

Mani would never permit his going. He was sure of that.

“Which
of my associates, nadi? Who has escaped? Is this person all right?”

“As yet there is no word of the circumstance, young gentleman. One expects it momentarily. Will you come to the sitting room?”

He had to. If he was to gain anything, he had to dress, and go wait, and stay calm.

He felt a shiver coming on in the cool air. But he tried not to let Cenedi see it.

18

A
child had crossed the line from section 23. It was possibly one of the young aiji's guests, Geigi's second-in-command had said, but they were not sure. Jase had gotten a call, given orders in ship-speak, and Geigi and Jase had left Central together in haste.

“They will contact us when they know,” Bren said, scanning the room full of anxious Mospheiran techs and Mospheiran security.

Calling Gin to take over seemed the only help. And that took a process. He asked for that connection, stood patiently, waited until Gin came on, a thin, remote presence in the headset.

“I've got a call from Lord Geigi,” Bren said into the mike. “Something's evidently happened with one of the kids, one of the three who visited the mainland. One may have ended up outside confinement. But no one's sure. Captain Graham has gone to investigate. I'd like to. Can you take over with Mr. Harris?”

“No difficulty,”
Gin said on the link.
“I'll handle whatever needs handling. Put Mr. Harris on.”

“Mr. Harris,” Bren said, and handed him the headphone.

Harris took it, settled it on, gazing into the distance. “Yes, ma'am,” Harris said. “I'm here. We'll stay on. Yes, ma'am. —She wants us to stand by. She says she wants a report when you can, sir.”

“I'll give it as soon as I have it,” Bren said. “Thank her.” He was anxious about leaving the situation and withdrawing from hands-on control of the area. But it was Gin's job. Gin's authority, now.

They
did
need him wherever the child was.
Something
had happened, involving a Reunioner kid. Something needed to be found out. Questions needed to be asked. Fast.

“We shall go,” he said in Ragi, and a second thought said maybe he should talk to Mospheiran security as he left, but, no, that was Gin's job, too. He wasn't operating as a Mospheiran official. Not once Gin took over.

He walked toward the door with his aishid forming up around him. The others came right behind them, and Guild talked to Guild in a quiet mutter of relayed queries, finding out locations, whatever details they could get.

The lift system was the first thing they needed. They reached it, and there Geigi's man, Sakeimi, on the verge of pushing buttons, stopped and took on a preoccupied look for a moment, listening to something remote, then said: “There is word from Jase-aiji, nandi. Jase-aiji ordered the child brought out. Ship-folk security delayed long enough to query Ogun-aiji on the matter. Ogun-aiji has now set the child in Jase-aiji's hands, and says, nandi, as Jase-aiji translates, Please deal with this urgently.”

One strongly suspected that was a very loose translation of what Ogun had actually said.

“Where shall we find him?”

“Jase is going to the main interface. He has ordered the child brought there.”

That was the central and largest of the three lift stations that had, on one side, the atevi side of the station, and on the other, the Mospheiran area. One passed through it, going in either direction, to deal with the other side. But getting off there—there was a very small shared zone. Administrative and shipping offices that had their backs to each other. And a checkpoint.

“Then we shall go there,” he said. It was
not
a place most people saw, except shuttle crews and people employed in cargo. “Tell him we're on our way. Which child?”

“I shall ask, nandi.” Sakeimi punched the lift call. It arrived fairly quickly. They all entered, and Sakeimi quickly put in the numbers.

“We are in communications silence,” Sakeimi noted. But that was no news. Guild communications, not going through Central, was an issue in certain places, and the lift system was one such. Sakeimi had asked. But there would be no answer until they actually arrived.

It was a dogleg turn and ascent before it slowed and stopped. The door opened in the human zone, beyond which was a simple security gate of rotating bars, and a window on either side that gave a panoramic view of the other side's offices.

There was, uncommonly, an atevi presence on
this
side besides their own: Lord Geigi had arrived with Jase, both with their bodyguards.

“Who is it?” Bren asked Jase first-off.

“I'm not sure. The description is dark-skinned, not as dark as atevi, dark hair—speaks Ragi, won't respond to questions.”

Smart. Presented a quandary that required a command decision—

“They called up to command,” Jase said. “I ordered the kid escorted to the atevi side. Ogun—the man's getting no sleep—first intervened to object, then cleared it. He wants an answer.”

Other lifts had opened around them, discharged a few humans, who looked sharply toward a gathering of atevi Guild, a ship's captain, and two atevi lords, and avoided their vicinity.

Then a lift opened right next to them, disgorging ship security, and a smaller figure in atevi riding clothes. Hair dark, close-clipped as no ateva would wear it . . .

That hair had been gold. Abundant and glorious, on a brown-skinned child.

Now it was black, slicked down tight.

That dress, that dignity and a fluency in Ragi,
could
pose an enigma to ship-folk who'd never seen an atevi youngster close-up. Irene had the bearing of an atevi lord.

She saw them and started walking. “Wait!” one of the escort said, and Irene never flinched, never reacted as if she understood, clever girl. She just walked toward them, and the man who'd made to stop her—didn't touch her.

She stopped at a proper distance. Bowed quite solemnly and properly.

Bren bowed. Geigi did.

“Irene-nadi,” Bren said quietly in Ragi. “Come. You may come with us now.”

She bowed slightly, perfect manners. She came forward. Banichi and Jago let her through. Then Guild in general closed ranks, so that no passersby could see.

“Dismissed,” he heard Jase say to the escort. “Go on back. We're fine, here. Good job.”

“Sir,” the answer was, smartly. And that was that.

“Irene,” Bren said, and in ship-speak: “You're all right now. We've got you.”

There'd been no crack in her demeanor. None. Now Irene sucked in a deep breath and hugged her arms about her as if chilled to the bone.

An atevi lord didn't hug a person in front of witnesses. But he could hold a wounded one. He flung an arm about her, hugged her thin frame. What colored her hair was a hazard to a good coat, but he had no care for it. “Good girl. Where are the others?”

“I don't know,” she said. She held to his arm, shivering. “I was so scared. I was so scared.”

“Let's go to the atevi section,” Jase said. “Get her entirely out of Mospheiran reach.” He changed to Ragi. “Let us go to the residency, Geigi-ji. Never mind crossing the interface. We shall take a car from here.”

“Gin Kroger is in voice contact with Mospheiran Central, Geigi-ji,” Bren said. “Harris-nadi is in charge in Central.”

“Harris-nadi is sensible,” Geigi said, “and most control still rests in my boards. I trust my lieutenant. Let us all go to the residency. Introduce me to this pretty child.”

“This is Lord Geigi,” Bren said, as Jase went to use his override on a lift call.

“Nandi,” Irene said, half out of breath. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

“One is gratified,” Lord Geigi said. “But one believes you have done very well for yourself, nadi.”

A lift arrived, the door opened, and Guild escorted them safely inside, as Geigi's escort keyed in numbers.

Then the door shut and the car immediately began to move. “Now we are officially in atevi territory,” Lord Geigi said, “and under the aiji-dowager's authority. You are entirely safe, Reni-nadi.”

“Nandi,” Irene said, and started to shiver as she pushed away from Bren. “Your coat,” she said in ship-speak. “I'm sorry.”

“It's all right. It's all right. Where are the boys?”

“I don't know. Bjorn. Bjorn's father came. He said Bjorn was at classes when the tunnels shut. He didn't get home. His father wanted to ask me and I wanted to help. But my mother sent him away and I couldn't talk to him. Bjorn's father's com wasn't working. He said nothing is working. I'm scared. I'm
scared
for them.”

“Could he have tried to come back in the tunnels?”

“He could have. They
all
could have gone there when things went crazy. Cajeiri said—he said, if anything ever goes wrong, get to Lord Geigi or Captain Jase. They might have tried to go. They might have tried— Damned hiccups. I always do that. Sir. Sorry.”

“It's all right.” He set a hand on her shoulder, felt her shoulder heave. “Do
you
ever go in the tunnels?”

“No, sir. I can't. I couldn't.” She swallowed hard, fighting hiccups. Stammered, “Mr. Braddock's there.”

“Where?”

“My mother's apartment. They're—”

“It's all right. He's in your mother's apartment?”

A nod. A grimace, fighting her reactions. “My mother. Was with this Bocas. Braddock's lieutenant. But since the doors shut—Braddock. Braddock showed up. With this woman. They moved out the people next door. Braddock and this woman moved in. And they asked me—they came over to our apartment. They asked me. Asked me where Gene was, first off. I didn't know. They asked about
Gene.
That was all.” A tremor shook her voice. “They didn't
ask
about Artur. Or Bjorn.”

Which could mean they already knew where Artur and Bjorn were. It wasn't good. It wasn't good at all. “Braddock's living next door to your mother.”

Nod. “But he sleeps. In our apartment.”

The lift slowed, changed directions, sideways. Jase had been keeping up a quiet, running translation of the details for the company.

“Didn't ask about Artur and Bjorn,” Irene repeated, teeth chattering, and swallowed hard, trying to get the hiccups under control. “Didn't have to ask—about me—either, did he? They knew where I was.”

Smart kid. Very smart kid.

“We'll do what we can.”

“In the tunnels,” she said, teeth chattering. “They could freeze. I'm so scared. I'm so scared.”

“There's emergency kits, emergency shelters,” Jase said grimly. “But how kept, in the
old
tunnels? I don't know.”

Damn. Damn it all.

He pressed Irene's shoulder carefully, gently. “We'll do what we can. We'll try. Think of all the information you can. We need addresses, accesses, any information you can think of.”

She reached into her coat, pulled out folded paper. “My notes,” she said, and handed it to him, a wad of information, everything she had.

A charge. A trust. A responsibility handed to him he didn't have time for, with the kyo situation advancing and the human situation poised on a knife's edge of old history and suspicion. They didn't have a way to extricate the kids, even given the addresses, without the possibility of stirring up problems that might
threaten
the kids and put them in the center of a riot. And they couldn't bet on
any
schedule of operations: they were utterly dependent on what the kyo decided to do.

And to stir something up that might not be finished by the time the kyo ship decided to dock . . .

But what in
hell
was Braddock doing moving in on Irene's mother? They didn't ask about Artur and Bjorn, but they asked about Gene?

And
They knew where I was . . .

Braddock didn't want Irene's mother, he strongly suspected. He wanted those kids, and if they took action, they were going to force Braddock's hand. Otherwise Braddock would pick his own time to stir up a problem, to gain leverage, involving—what was Tillington's phrase? Those kids being
Reunioner royalty?

It didn't take a gift of prophecy to figure Braddock's intentions once the kyo showed up and the pressure was on.

He'd already shifted his priorities long enough to deal with Tillington. Conscience on one side said no, the kyo problem had to take over his attention at this point. Let Jase deal with getting the kids out. Let Gin. Let people who didn't have a unique skill on which all their safety depended.

The kid's hand clenched his, chill and desperate. He didn't find the resolve to look down at her as the door opened in their outside hallway. He was telling himself it was damnably irresponsible to involve himself in Braddock's moves, that the kids' lives weren't likely in danger.

Their sense of justice might be.

And Cajeiri's.

And the value of Tabini-aiji's protection.

Damn it.

Promise
this kid? He couldn't.

But try his damnedest in the time he had left, before things went critical? He could do that, at least.

 • • • 

Irene
was coming. Cajeiri sat, dressed in his second-best coat, waiting. And mani was waiting. Mani had ordered tea, but Cajeiri was too anxious to drink more than a sip.

Only
Irene was coming. Irene was the last of them he would expect to try to reach them. Irene was scared of things. Irene was terrified of flying. Her mother was the strictest, besides, and supervised everything Irene did.

And where were Gene and Artur? And Bjorn, for that matter? Bjorn hadn't been allowed to come down to visit. But he was trapped with the others, likely, on the other side of the locked doors.

And only Irene had escaped?

He heard the sound of the main door opening, and he heard an exchange in several voices, Jase-aiji and nand' Bren among them. And what sounded like Lord Geigi. That door shut.

The quiet disturbance reached the door of the sitting room, and Cajeiri stood up as first nand' Geigi came in, and then nand' Bren, and a dark-haired human boy in fashionable riding clothes, with Jase-aiji behind.

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