Jase-aiji had lingered to talk with nand’ Bren and their security. But nand’ Bren was going no farther, so this, now, was where they had to say good-bye, having gotten at least this far together.
His guests understood, too. Irene’s eyes started watering, and she kept trying to stop the flood, and trying to make her face calm.
“One regrets,” Irene said in good Ragi, wiping at her face. “One tried not to do this, Jeri-ji. It’s stupid.”
“You have to go,” Cajeiri said, “but remember what we said last night. We are associates. Forever. And I will get you back, so long as you want to come back. If everything goes well—I shall get you back for my next birthday. Maybe sooner.”
“We stay connected,” Gene said.
“I have my notebook,” Irene said. She sniffed and her voice shook.
“Just be careful what you say to everybody,” Cajeiri said. That was his greatest worry. “Tell only the good things. Be careful. And remember you should not have to pay anything to send letters or to call me on the phone. Do not let anybody say you have to pay. Nand’ Geigi will send the letters for you if you cannot reach nand’ Jase. Just get the letters to him if you have any trouble. And go to him first if anything goes wrong.”
“We shall write,” Gene said. “A lot.”
“Come along, kids,” Jase-aiji said, waiting with his bodyguard. “Sorry. They want us aboard. They’re going into an unscheduled hold for us.”
A moment of panic came down then. They looked at each other. Irene took a deep breath and managed to steady herself. Artur and Gene gave a little bow, very proper.
Then they walked away, all three.
· · ·
The youngsters all three were very polite, very proper in their leaving, bowing as they passed on their way to Jase, and Bren returned the bows very gravely, in silence.
Irene was the last.
“Nandi,” she said properly.
“Reni-daja,” Bren said. That was Cajeiri’s name for her. “Have a very good flight.”
“Get me back!” she whispered suddenly in ship-speak, looking up at him. “Please get me back, sir!”
Then she spun around and ran the few steps to catch up with Jase and the two boys, wiping tears as she went.
God, Bren thought, a little shaken by that. He stood watching as Jase and the kids walked on their way to the shuttle, along the safety corridor painted on the pavement. Jase had his hand on Gene’s shoulder, and the boys had Irene between them, holding her hands.
He turned then to see how Cajeiri was taking the departure, and saw a forlorn figure, as tall as he was, back already turned, boarding the bus with his own bodyguard waiting.
Damn, he thought as he headed back to the bus. He wasn’t sure whether Cajeiri had seen or prompted that exchange with Irene, but he was relatively sure Cajeiri’s young bodyguard had seen it.
When he boarded, Cajeiri had gone to the rear of the bus with his bodyguard, and they were all talking to him, heads close together.
The adult world that made good-bye necessary just wasn’t going to have any welcome advice for the boy right now. And he and Jase had planned as much as they could plan to be sure the kids would come back next year.
It was bound to hurt.
It had to hurt. But it was part of the boy’s growing up.
He settled behind the driver with Banichi and Jago for the trip back, sighed sadly, and leaned back. The driver started the bus, took a broad turn, and headed back the way they had come.
“How is the schedule, nadiin-ji?” he asked them.
“We are well within the window,” Banichi said. “One freight is inbound for the port, but we have plenty of time.”
They would have no trouble getting off the spaceport spur before then. The shuttle would launch before then.
And it was significant that Cajeiri hadn’t asked to stay and see it go.
“One cannot read the young gentleman at the moment,” he said to his aishid. “One is concerned for him.”
“He is making every effort,” Jago said, “to bear this in a dignified way. He has done very well today.”
So Jago thought the boy was handling it well enough.
But making the boy happy to go back to the confines of his life in the capital, making him content, there—
That was not going to happen.
· · ·
They reached the platform, they left the bus in silence and crossed to the train. Tano and Algini waited for them at the steps.
The boy, first inside, with his bodyguard, just settled where he and his guests had sat, in the empty seats, at the now lonely little table. His young aishid stood, uniformly long-faced, in the nook beside him.
“Young aiji,” Bren said, pausing by the table, “if you should wish to join me at the rear of the car, you would be welcome. One does not insist, however.”
A muscle jumped in Cajeiri’s jaw, a little effort at self-control. The boy looked up. “I shall prefer to sit here, nandi. Thank you.”
Fragile. And so wishing not to give way right now. Bren gave a little bow and with a movement of his eyes, advised his valets, who were in charge of service on the train, and poised to offer tea or anything else desired, also to let the boy be. The boy’s own bodyguard would do anything the boy wanted. Cajeiri just asked to be alone, and one had to respect that, in a boy who had, overall, done very, very well and behaved bravely in recent weeks.
So Bren went back to the bench seat at the rear of the car, with his bodyguard, and with his valets following closely.
“The household might have tea, nadi,” he told his valet quietly, including Supani and his partner Koharu in the suggestion—and he settled into his place on the corner of the bench seat, where he habitually sat. His bodyguard settled with him, and the train began to roll.
Quiet again. Devastatingly quiet. No Jase. No kids’ laughter.
In another half hour he had the word from Tano that the shuttle had started its takeoff.
Within the hour he had the word that the shuttle had cleared the atmosphere and was in space, safely past the most dangerous part of its return.
“Advise the young gentleman’s aishid,” Bren said and Tano did that, via Guild communications, just the length of the car.
The young gentleman settled after that, over against the wall, head down, arms folded, apparently asleep.
Despite the adrenaline from the launch and the climb to orbit, the youngsters on the shuttle would soon be ready to fall asleep, too, seatbelts fastened, for the next few hours.
They’d certainly earned it.
They’d all earned it. Jase and his bodyguard, too.
· · ·
The paidhi-aiji, however, who had been up before dawn composing documents for Jase, had two reports to outline while the details were fresh in his mind, and another set of documents to translate.
The train was headed home, on an eastward route right back around to the Central Station. They would come into the capital, then take the ordinary route along the edge of the city, to the Bujavid train station.
Tatiseigi had returned to the capital some three days ago. Ilisidi was back from business in the East.
And the letters waiting for him in his Bujavid residence were surely overflowing the message bowl by now, business postponed as long as it could be.
Aiji-ma, Bren wrote to Tabini, the guests have gone home with many expressions of gratitude for their visit. The young gentleman is exhausted, and sleeping as I write. His comportment was exemplary in these last days. I am very glad to have had him as my guest at Najida and he is welcome at any time to return. He is a great favorite of my staff.