The other cup, minus a last gulp, went down. Curious little gesture. Not quite city manners. The cup clicked onto the table.
“I do again thank you for coming, nandi,” Bren said quietly. “And I shall not waste your time. Sources inform me that you are quite perturbed about the situation of Lord Aseida.”
“I shall not argue it here.”
“One entirely understands, nandi, but I have an utterly different motive in asking you here. I am no authority within the aishidi’tat, merely a voice, but I do know that your district has become very important, or will be so, in the future. Your strong leadership is important, and my principals have no wish to see political damage occur . . .”
“Is that a threat, nandi?”
“By no means, nandi. I have asked you here because I have consulted with others of the Conservative Caucus on the matter of the Kadagidi lord, and clearly you are part of that caucus, equally deserving of the information the others are being given, or may already have. Guild administration has changed. Information is being passed from the Assassins’ Guild to various houses regarding that change and other matters. And realizing that your own bodyguard may not be tapped into that source, and that you have expressed concern about various events, I called you here to give you that information, for fairness’ sake. Appearances will be preserved, I swear to you, and there will be no news of the topic of our meeting. That we two have business could involve a dozen things—the railway and the southern route, among others—perfectly logical for us to discuss.” There was bait on a string. “But most urgently, nandi, let me state the real business, which you need to know—to have proved to your satisfaction: the action at the Kadagidi estate was entirely lawful. My bodyguard was fired upon and wounded. My Guild senior is at present lying abed injured, and as you see, I was not exempt from attack.” He lifted a hand toward the cut on his cheek. “A minor scrape. There were, however, six holes in the bus in which I was standing.”
“That is no proof. It says nothing as to who provoked the incident.”
“I agree. It is no proof at all. But proof exists. First, a document delivered to the Guild last night contains the confession of two members from the Dojisigin Marid, who were coerced to lie in wait for Lord Tatiseigi, in an unFiled assassination which provoked our visit to the Kadagidi—since, at the time of the incident, Lord Tatiseigi had guests who were put at risk: the aiji-dowager, the aiji’s son and heir, myself, one of the ship-aiji and three young folk from the space station.”
“Humans!”
“Indeed, the three innocent human children, nandi, guests of the aishidi’tat, in a diplomatic maneuver important to the aishidi’tat. In the thought that perhaps Lord Aseida, who aided the two Dojisigi to gain access to the Atageini house, might not have known about the foreign guests, who were indeed under deep security at the time—I and a ship-aiji, a former paidhi-aiji—undertook to go personally over to the Kadagidi estate to advise Lord Aseida privately of the situation, and to ask for an apology, in the name of the dowager, and the heir, and Lord Tatiseigi. Had Lord Aseida appeared, heard me, and simply given a verbal apology, that would have settled the matter and relieved Lord Tatiseigi’s honor and his of the burden in private, in such a way that would have ended the incident. The ship-aiji and his bodyguard were there to witness the Kadagidi response in the interests of their aijiin. And whenever a ship-aiji’s guard deploys in a situation, they make a recording to prove what happened in the exchange. That is their custom. And that recording, which I am prepared to show you, shows our action and the Kadagidi response.”
Expression touched Lord Topari’s face, difficult to read: skepticism, one was certain.
“And this will be entered in evidence?”
“Nandi, it is to be filed with the Guild today. The confession of the two Assassins is already filed. And being informed that you are first to ask into the facts, as someone should ask—I have asked you here to see what happened, to see exactly what the Guild Council will see, should you wish to do so. I do not say you will be the last to see it—but you will be the first.”
A suspicious look.
“It will be relatively brief, nandi.”
“Television.”
“Not precisely television, nandi,” Jago said, moving forward, “but this viewer.” She pushed a button and an image flashed up on the bare wall to the left, larger than life. Algini immediately dimmed the lights, and without Lord Topari precisely consenting—the images appeared.
Bren watched Lord Topari, whose face, in the reflected light, was grim and apprehensive, not pleased by what was simply a confusion of shadow at first, then the interior of the bus. It was the moment Jase’s guards had put on their helmets.
“We are beginning,” Bren said, “at the point at which the aiji’s guard commenced recording.”
On the wall, the view swung about, became the driveway, the still-distant house, the porch.
“Those are ship-folk notations superimposed on the image,” Bren said, regarding the numbers at the edge.
That drew a sharp look from Topari.
“What do they say?”
“They are a signature, indicating the name of the guard, indicating the date and time. This is from a camera inside the armor of Jase-aiji’s guard. Jase-aiji’s bodyguards were on duty, as of this point, wearing protective armor.”
Action proceeded. The bus stopped. Banichi got off and hailed the house.
“The paidhi-aiji and the ship-aiji have come to call on Lord Aseida,” Banichi’s voice said distantly, addressing the Kadagidi guard. “They are guests of your next-door neighbor the Atageini lord, and they have been personally inconvenienced by actions confessed to have originated from these grounds. These are matters far above the Guild, nadi, and regarding your lord’s status within the aishidi’tat. Advise your lord of it.”
“That is my Guild senior,” Bren said quietly, “advising the Kadagidi of our approach and our request.”
Kaplan and Polano got off, a confusion of images of the bus door and the side of the house, then a jolt resolving to a steady image of the house door, which had opened. A knot of armed Kadagidi Guild held the porch.
“This is the point at which I exited the bus,” Bren said. “I descended behind the cover of the two ship-folk bodyguards and in the company of my own aishid, hoping to speak to Lord Aseida.”
Banichi stepped again into camera view, rifle in the crook of his arm.
“Are those alive?” the other side called out; and now bright squares flicked here and there and showed shadow-figures within the walls, and one square flicked to the movement of a weapon, on the porch.
“These are the ship-aiji’s personal bodyguard,” Banichi answered. “And the ship-aiji is present on the bus. Be warned. These two ship-folk understand very little Ragi. Make no move that they might misinterpret. The paidhi-aiji and the ship-aiji have come to talk to your lord, and request he come outdoors for the meeting.”
“Our lord will protest this trespass!”
“Your lord will be free to do that at his pleasure,” Banichi retorted. “But advise him that the paidhi-aiji is here on behalf of Tabini-aiji, speaking for his minor son and for the aiji-dowager, the ship-aiji, and his son’s foreign guests, minor children, all of whom were disturbed last night by Guild Assassins who have named your estate as their route into Lord Tatiseigi’s house.”
“We will relay the matter to our lord,” the Kadagidi said. “Wait.”
A man left, through the door to the inside of the house. And thus far there was absolutely nothing wrong with the proceedings.