“True love,” he said with a shrug. “They’re happy. Amazes me, but I’m far from objecting. If my brother ever does inherit this job—Barb’s going to provide some interesting moments. She certainly puzzled Machigi, but we all survived it.”
Jase laughed at the right places. And regaled him with a few Polano anecdotes. It was, all in all, a pleasant afternoon—and they spent an hour of it with his valets, putting Jase in all-out court dress. Jase had brought wardrobe down with him, but not in the newest mode, and the occasion demanded extravagance.
So with a little tuck here and there, and a good shirt, one of his newer coats would do. They settled from that to lunch, including Polano and Kaplan, on a day become remarkably sedate and restful. Algini came back and quietly reported his mission to the Guild accomplished. Measures were being taken. It was the one worrisome spot in the afternoon, the one thing that had him gazing down the hall at Algini’s retreating back, and wondering, in this new resolve of no information, whether there was anything going on that would worry him if he knew. There had been something in Algini’s face, a little tension that said business, but the paidhi-aiji was in the midst of outfitting and entertaining his guest, and Algini had only paid a passing courtesy.
Well, and the youngsters would, so one heard through the servant network, go back with a complete wardrobe of clothes—to model for parents and friends in private, perhaps, and the wardrobe would help them keep the memories—good memories, one hoped, in spite of all the goings-on. God, in spite of all their elders’ machinations current and future, he hoped Cajeiri’s guests could hold on to that bond.
They would get their private birthday party. He swore they would.
When they’d gone out to Tirnamardi, he’d envisioned a modest, low-key celebration, with just one preceding day for the youngsters to arrive from their retreat at Tirnamardi, tour the Bujavid, go to the museum, maybe an art gallery, or some other place the young gentleman and his guests could be assured of protection, then have a little human-style party after the family one. He’d been prepared to offer his dining room for such an event.
They’d come back under entirely different circumstances, and had more time here, and it wasn’t a private party, far from it.
Well, whatever it had mutated into, Tabini willing, they might still go back to the relative privacy and security of Tirnamardi until the shuttle was prepared to fly.
But how that was going to work was becoming increasingly cloudy. The dowager and Lord Tatiseigi’s presence was absolutely required in the day or so after, if the tribal peoples bill was going to be up for debate—not even to mention the succession question in Kadagidi and Ajuri.
He needed to be available for the legislature. None of them were likely to have time to deal with a handful of increasingly restive youngsters.
Jase, however—
Jase could escort the youngsters. Jase was still known onworld as the ship-paidhi. He wasn’t fluent, but he could manage. It was a great deal to ask of Lord Tatiseigi, to turn his estate over to humans . . . so to speak.
But he could send them to his own estate of Najida, maybe. Or Taiben, Taiben, which detested roads, and distrusted outsiders . . .
Taiben would be safer . . . and it had mecheiti . . .
But the young gentleman’s dearly treasured birthday present was resident with a herd in Tirnamardi’s stables, and one did not put a child aboard a mecheita newly introduced to another herd.
Not to mention the politics of putting Tatiseigi’s gift into a Taibeni herd.
He sighed. It was just not going to be easy.
They couldn’t postpone the tribal peoples bill. Too much rode on it. He couldn’t get free. They couldn’t do without Tatiseigi. The dowager had to be there to push the bill.
“Deep thoughts,” Jase said.
“How much ground time do you expect for the shuttle?”
“What? Do you need us out of here faster—or slower?”
“Is there any chance the kids could wait for the next shuttle?”
“No logistical problem with Phoenix or station authorities. We just load cargo instead. Next rotation we load the passenger module and leave six cans of dried fruit and fish paste. The parents, however . . . Shall I ask?”
“Tomorrow will tell,” he said. “Let’s just get the lad through the actual birthday.”
“Not to mention your other operations.”
“I haven’t been a good host.”
“I have no complaints. I really should leave you to your work. I came down here to assist, not to be entertained. And I can see you’re up to your ears.”
“You know, if you could delay the kids to another shuttle, we could actually get that fishing trip.”
“You’re threatening to take me out in a shell with no attitude controls to float on a hundred meter depth of turbulent water. This is the reward.”
He laughed. “I wish I could absolutely promise it. But if you could shake yourself loose for another rotation, we’d have a better chance.”
“This hasn’t been the most opportune timing for us.”
“It’s no accident it hasn’t. But you know that. Past tomorrow, things should be a lot less tense, and there’ll be no public exposure. Can you manage it? These kids . . .”
“I know. Let me have a go at it. Gene’s mother likely won’t object. Irene’s—” Jase shrugged. “Maybe. She’ll run to ask her problematic friends, and they won’t decline a chance that makes the kid more useful. Artur’s parents—they’ll want him back. They’re just parents. But for the sake of an education—”
“He’s certainly getting one.”
“He is, that. Let me give it a try. Pending tomorrow.”
“Yourself?”
“Oh, I’ll be persuasive. If the kids stay, I can’t leave them here alone, can I?” Jase made to get up. “I should leave you to your work, however. I’ve heard the staff coming and going. Things are in progress, and I’m in the way.”
“Never,” Bren said, but it was true, and he’d caught a sign from Narani in the hall that there was important mail in-house. “I had better cross-check with staff, however, and stay up on the details. Supper tonight if we’re lucky.”
“Formal?”
“Informal as hell, I hope. Are you running out of entertainment in there?”
Jase grinned. “We’re amply supplied. My office doesn’t let me alone. And Kaplan and Polano are on the longest leave of their lives, so I’m hearing no complaints. I don’t know where their poker tab stands, but neither one gets more than twenty credits ahead of the other and it’s been ongoing for days.”
“Good.” He laughed. “Good for them.”
He saw Jase to the door, went to his office and settled to look through his mail—was not surprised when Narani arrived with the mail, and prominent in the batch was a message cylinder of the heraldic sort that usually circulated within the upper floors of the Bujavid.
Red and black.
The dowager, he thought, telling himself he needed to ask his staff how the preparations for the event were going.
“Thank you,” he said. “Wait just a moment. There may be a reply.” He opened the cylinder. The seal on the message itself was not the dowager’s, however: it was Tabini’s.