“To the young gentleman himself, more than the ship-aiji?” another lady objected.
“To the ship-aiji, yes, they are obedient; but the young gentleman has their loyalty.”
“Yet humans do not, do they,” an old man objected, “truly have man’chi. How can they feel?”
“Yet I feel, nandi,” Bren said patiently, finding himself back in an old, old role. “And one hopes my loyalty to the aiji is not in doubt.”
“By no means, nand’ paidhi. One hardly meant—but they are so young!”
“Indeed, nandi, one takes no offense at alclass="underline" you are right to question. For us, a childhood association is not a trifle. These children are part of a population rescued from great danger, taken from their home and moved to the station above us. On that voyage, they met the young gentleman. He was their only comfort in a strange and harsh existence, and they attached to him in the strongest possible way. His generosity, his curiosity, and his kindness attached them to him, clearly in a way a year’s absence has not dimmed, and though they are all, despite their size, older than he is, he leads. He always has. Do accept my assurance that these three have, just as atevi youngsters do, many caretakers, atevi and human, all of whom have the strongest possible concern for their good character.”
“Wise,” an old lord said, nodding. “Wise proceedings.”
Flattery? Politics? The old man had six grandchildren. There was a warmth about his expression.
“They seem interested in the exhibits,” a woman said.
“Nandi, they are. The color, the images, the representations are all very exciting to them.”
“Commendable,” the old man said. The conversation dwindled to courtesies, and the old gentleman meandered off among the lighted displays, talking to his bodyguard.
“Well done,” young Dur said, who had turned up by his elbow.
“One hopes so,” he said. Adrenaline was absolutely on the ebb. He had put out too many fires this evening, already, in what was supposed to be a relaxed social event, and had three hours of a far more important court function yet to go.
Two of the Liberal Caucus lay in wait near a red figured vase, with questions about the tribal bill. “Your vote will secure the west,” Bren assured them, “and prevent another dispute with the Marid. That will remove the need for a strong naval presence, and direct the funding toward merchant shipping.”
“It will work,” he assured another such inquirer, at the next turn. “The Southern Ocean is not impassable. We have vastly improved weather reports, vastly improved technology, vastly improved navigation and stabilization in heavy weather. I have a report upcoming in the Transportation Committee this session, on the ship technology.”
“Assistance from the ship humans. What, nandi, can ships in the great ether understand of ships at sea?”
“Ah. It is not the ship technology we are borrowing, nandi, but their vantage point. They can see the storms coming. They can declare a safe route.”
“Even through the Southern Ocean?”
“They have an excellent view, nandi, and are learning from us, as well. They can steer ships around hazards. But first the tribal bill. The tribal bill is key to everything.”
Another lord, a Conservative, approached and asked: “One has heard a rumor, nand’ paidhi. What is the truth on the upheaval in the Guild? And why this damnable malfunction in Guild equipment tonight?”
He was intensely conscious of Banichi and Jago, right at his shoulders, and of the lord’s own aishid, considerably lower in Guild rank, right behind him.
“It is a technical matter,” he said, “about which one has very little information. But the Guild has promised extensive reform of the system, which has created confusion, especially in recent weeks. The aiji is extremely optimistic.”
“Indeed, nand’ paidhi?”
“Very much so. He entirely supports this change, and I do not doubt he will say so in coming days.”
“You are still backing the tribal bill, one hears.”
“Definitely, nandi, with complete enthusiasm.”
He escaped, half a step, when another accosted him with: “Nand’ paidhi. You are backing the bill.”
“As is Lord Tatiseigi, nandi, as is the aiji-dowager.”
“That she will is no news. But Lord Tatiseigi—”
“He stands with the aiji-dowager.”
“One imagines there might be agreement,” the second said dryly. And the first:
“What of the removal of Lord Kadagidi? One would hesitate to believe the rumor, that this attack was arranged by the Liberals, and that this concession is the price of the tribal bill.”
“One would call that removal not a concession, but a correction long overdue, nandi,” he said firmly, then lowered his voice conspiratorially. “One vital to the security of the aishidi’tat. Lord Aseida, nandiin, was not ignorant of circumstances behind the coup. The Guild will be investigating.”
“Indeed, nandi!”
He knew these two. He knew their tactics . . . the two worst gossips in the midlands. “There will be abundant proof of the entire exchange at Asien’dalun, nandi. The aiji is in possession of evidence, and I shall be pleased to show you and anyone else who asks all the proof they could wish, both of what happened and what almost happened, which is far worse; it involves the arrest of several hidden agents. You are unaware, no doubt, that Lord Aseida in recent days threatened the aiji-dowager, the young gentleman and his guests. Lord Aseida claims ignorance of the plot, but the intention behind it was clearly to harm the administration.”
“That can be proven, nand’ paidhi?”
“To the satisfaction of any who wish to see the photographic evidence. Minor children, nandiin. Foreigners who, as guests, have now witnessed an illegal act on the part of a lord of the aishidi’tat. This was assuredly not the way the young gentleman hoped to impress his guests.”
“So the young gentleman was not at Malguri,” a newcomer observed.
“No. He was not. He was at no time at Malguri. For security reasons, he was a guest of his great-uncle at Tirnamardi.” Again he lowered his voice, so the second lord had to lean forward to hear. “The Kadagidi lord’s own bodyguard received orders from a remnant of the Murini faction to help Assassins from the south eliminate Lord Tatiseigi. Possibly they neglected to tell their lord about their illegal actions, or the purpose of southern Guild arriving in the household. There is a little doubt. That is why Lord Aseida will likely be asked to resign the lordship. As the aiji inquires more deeply, there may be more evidence tying Lord Aseida himself to some of these decisions—and he would be very wise to take that offer while it is available, especially since this all unfolded to the annoyance of the aiji-dowager, whose patience is very short, and whose influence is considerable. The Guild will be going through papers recovered from Lord Aseida’s own office.”
“Indeed,” that lord said quietly. And that ended that line of questioning.
“One regrets,” Banichi said with a deep sigh, “that that problem reached you.”
“We are neither one as agile as we might be. How are you faring, Nichi-ji?”
“Not too badly,” Banichi said.
The doors were all open, now, and some attendees had found their way back out into the cool hallway. Lord Tatiseigi had passed out all the cards, and joined Ilisidi in a walk about the cases, Lord Tatiseigi personally commenting on his treasures to a number of interested attendees. Tabini, Damiri, and Cajeiri were still conversing with elderly guests, while Jase and the youngsters were off in a side hall, with the Reverence Statues.
It was almost time. Tabini was, at the moment, a bit apart from Damiri, who was listening to an older woman who was casting disapproving glances back at Cajeiri’s guests—who were doing absolutely nothing amiss at the moment. Cajeiri was not frowning—Cajeiri was too well-brought-up for that; but Cajeiri’s shoulders were stiff and his hands were mangling a program sheet behind him.