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And the efficiency of staff contacting staff meant that by now Tabini was as unofficially in the loop as he wished to be—which was, for public consumption, not involved at all—and only Ilisidi’s staff was quietly working with Bujavid offices regarding the venue for the signing.

Banichi came in to report that set-up was finished in the downstairs reception hall and was undergoing a security check, and that the Guild was satisfied with arrangements for Machigi’s travel to and from the Taisigi trade mission.

By now, if the paidhi were playing for more than points, he would have been sunk in debt.

They tried small talk, which did nothing for one’s card-playing; by luck, the mail this afternoon had involved a report on the construction at Najida, and that carried into an engaging conversation with Geigi—and two lost hands—on the merits of native stone and wood as a theme for Najida’s new wing and the relocation of the sitting room into the new wing, with a window looking out over Najida Bay.

“A brilliant notion,” Geigi called it. “And what for the old sitting room? It was always quite convenient to the front door. One imagines the paidhi-aiji might enjoy the state of a reception hall.”

“Oh, one thinks not,” Bren said with a laugh. “One finds oneself quite content with the character of a country lord, nothing so grand as a reception hall in my house. One was actually thinking of making it another guest suite. And yet another idea was relocating my own quarters to the new wing and having the entire front hall for my guests. Guests were never a consideration in the original arrangements at Najida.”

“The old lords were never a social lot,” Geigi said. “But you are quite apt to have a cluster of associates dropping by with large staffs, never forgetting the young gentleman. You may need that new wing to extend to the road.”

“I have thought of that,” Bren admitted. And they fell to discussing architecture, and the need to keep the view rustic, and to keep it from impinging on the tranquility of the bay, and of Najida Village.

“Trees,” Geigi said. “Native trees.”

One liked that idea. There were no trees on the ridge, and one had the notion, considering the field across the road, and the forest that quite abruptly began on the next rise, that the previous holders of Najida had gotten their timber by clearing that land.

It was hunting range. One had to consider that and leave ample grazing for certain species.

But the renegades and their mortars had done immense damage out on the heights—cratering the landscape. Granted it had been rock and scrub, it had been peaceful rock and scrub, and thathe was determined to sculpt back into a semblance of something more natural than shell craters.

Not to mention the hazard of unexploded shells. They currently had the entire area posted, and the village children were strictly warned. A handful of children, in fact, had been the first ones to report the location of shells, and had quite wisely given them a wide berth.

“One is determined to restore the heights,” he said. “We may derive some stone from that source, but we will do plantings there, as well.”

“It has been neglected ground for centuries,” Geigi said. “Since the Edi were moved onto the mainland. I have in my collection woodcuts that show that area densely wooded.”

“That surprises me. Perhaps I shall consult with your new majordomo, Geigi-ji.’

“Please do. And I wish you to do something for me, Bren-ji.”

“Beyond a doubt I shall. What is it?”

“Will you look in on Kajiminda from time to time, even after my nephew has an heir, and that young woman moves in? One wishes Kajiminda to open its doors to all neighbors, in the way of the Padi Valley establishments, and to maintain a gallery for the exhibit of my collections. Those are the instructions I have left. I wish to open the doors to the Edi folk and to tourists I believe may come, once the agreements are in place. I wish people to see these old woodcuts of life as it was and to see my porcelains, such as—those that my scoundrel of a nephew did not barter away. I shall be making those arrangements with my staffcand setting up needful security. Visitors will keep them on full salary, and provide traffic for the region’s enterprises.”

“I should be very happy to open Najida in the same way, except the secure rooms,” Bren said, the whole idea flashing forth with a vision of roads and tour buses and maybe an inn near the train station, eventually with all the amenities. “One finds it a brilliant notion. We should correspond about this, Geigi-ji.”

“With great enthusiasm,” Geigi said. “Once I am on the station, I know my mind will be all plastics and metal and circuits again, except my little potted trees. I should be very pleased to have such a correspondence and a partner in such a project, to remind me constantly of my Kajiminda.”

“You must remain lord of Kajiminda, no matter how long this young lady may be resident, Geigi-ji. I value my neighbor extremely. I shall never give you up!”

“One is more than gratified,” Geigi said. “Ah, Bren-ji, how pleasant these days in your residence! You have been a most excellent host. Even under fire at Najida, one could feel it.”

He had to laugh. “One accepts the compliment, nandi.”

“Humans have the concept— friend, different than associate. Would you say, Bren-ji, that we are friends?

That definitely set him back. He had built such a strong wall about that word, never, ever to use it with an ateva—even with his aishid, who were closer to him than anyone on earth, even closer than Toby.

But if there was one ateva who could use that word advisedly, exploring the interface from the opposite direction—it would be Geigi, who lived and worked with humans of every sort, good and less good.

“I shall admit to that feeling from my side, Geigi-ji,” he said carefully. “And you may have the confidence in me that a human would have in such a relationship.”

“It is an intimate relationship. Excluding family. Excluding loyalties. Excluding obligations of clan or birth.”

He nodded. “It is that. Though it can admit any of those co-existing, it is independent of them.”

“It can occasionally be unwise.”

“As clan obligations can occasionally be unfortunate.”

Geigi gave a little laugh. “No way of being is perfect.”

“Regrettably, no. One thinks not.”

“Yet you are, paidhi-aiji, my friend.I would not say that of any other human, except Jase Graham. And one has not dared use that word with him. He has not your understanding of the hazards.”

“Advisable, that exception. He could misunderstand.”

“But you will not. I also live on that dividing line, Bren-ji. So I say, you are a peculiar association. The connection I have with my aishid, with my staff, these things are absolute and passionate. But there has to be a peculiar word for such a peculiar position as we have with each other. We are in some ways the same person.”

“It would be apt,” Bren said. “I think it would be apt to use that word, Geigi-ji.”

Geigi laughed at that, and said, with a deprecating gesture, “One would hesitate to attempt the word love.

Geigi was joking. And there was humor in it. Friendship without love involved was a peculiar thing. But this was an ateva who, like his aishid, would fight for him. His aishid would fling themselves between him and a bullet. They in fact had done so. Geigi, if he were so physically inclined, would still be a puzzle in that regard. Probably Geigi would not be so inclined. He was a leader among atevi, having come to that position not quite by instinct but by circumstance. He was not a leader as atevi usually defined the term—strongly instinctual, driven to be that. Not an autocrat, not inspiring a following. If Geigi had ever had to take the aijinate, it would have been a cold, calculated move, and he would have been very unhappy in the office, continually feeling out of place—as he evidently did not feel, on the station.