Protector

“They may simply bar the door,” Jago said.

“Frightening them is surely worth something. And meanwhile we have them pinned down, we can interdict anyone who comes outof that house, and Lord Geigi candrop something on their land, with a great deal of precision.”

“Bren-ji,” Banichi said, “your resolution never to advise your bodyguard is in serious breach.”

“Then advise me. I shall certainly hear advice. But I cannot lose you. And the dowager cannot lose Nawari. You—and Cenedi’s team— youhave more importance than I do, when it comes to a fight inside the Guild. You know the names and histories of these people. You have accesses nobody else does. You are notexpendable and I am, comparatively, in this part of the fight. If it requires a readjustment in your man’chi—make it. We cannot risk you, and I do not countenance Cenedi risking Nawari, either. He is doingthis because he needs you, and he is staying meticulously within the law—but I do not agree he should. We should go in there prepared to deal damage, and Jase and I should make the approach, because our status gives youthe right to take them on without a Filing on our side, if they compound their offense with one bullet headed our direction. If there is any legal question—any political question that follows this—then that is myexpertise, nadiin-ji, and I will defend this decision. I would look forward to dealing with anycounterclaim this old man in the Guild or his allies can make.”

There was a long silence. “We shall have to talk to Cenedi,” Banichi said, “and advise Tano and Algini. Not to mention the dowager herself. Speed in this is advisable. We do not know whennews from the south may reach Guild Headquarters. —Jago.”

“Yes,” Jago said, got up, and headed for the door.

Banichi also left. Theyhad things to arrange. Cenedi to consult.

He, meanwhile, had to talk to Jase—urgently.

•   •   •

“We have a problem,” was how he started the explanation, while Jase, roused from sleep, sat amid his bedclothes. Kaplan and Polano had opened the door, and stood in the little sitting-room, in their shorts.

He explained it. Jase raked a hand through his hair; then said: “We’re in. Can we get a pot of that strong tea in here?”

“Deal,” he said. “I’ve got a spare vest. Choice of colors, brown or green, and bulletproof. I’ll send it with the tea.”

“I’m not particular.” Jase raised his voice. “Kaplan. Polano. Full kit, hear it?”

“Aye, captain,” the answer came back, and Bren headed back through the sitting room, to get back next door and send Supani and Koharu in with the requisite items. Tea for three. One vest, proof against most bullets. He and Jase were about the same size.

The dowager could still countermand the operation, but while he was dispatching Supani and Koharu, Tano and Algini came in to gather up needed gear, and it was clear that that wasn’t happening.

“The aiji-dowager,” Algini said, “has sent for the bus.”

“We do not know the capabilities of Jase-aiji’s guard,” Tano added. “We understand they are considerable.”

“They are,” he said. He put on the green vest: he had sent the brown brocade over to Jase. He had on a reasonably good shirt, his good beige coat, and Koharu handed him his pistol and two spare clips. He tucked those into his coat pockets.

Banichi came back. “The bus is well on its way. The dowager has waked Lord Tatiseigi, who is not yet coherent, and she has instructed Cenedi to tell me to tell you to stay behind your bodyguard.”

“One earnestly promises it,” he said. It somewhat troubled him that Banichi seemed cheerful—in a dark and businesslike way. Banichi and Jago both had looked worn and tired less than an hour ago, when they had explained to him that they had been outranked on the mission. Now they were full speed ahead—and he had to ask himself whether he had put temptation in their path.

But he was right,damn it all. Putting Nawari in there to try to draw a response was the best of a bad job. Nawari was a perfectly legitimate target. They couldnot risk the dowager going over there—though she wasn’t a legitimate target. And Cenedi was going by the book, against a Guild problem that wouldn’t.

He was far from as cheerful as his aishid in the prospect—it wasn’t in his makeup. But he’d been through hell down in the Marid, and he wasn’tGuild, with a traditional bent. He’d begun his career with a far simpler book, a dictionary of permitted words—and he’d watched that dictionary explode into full contact, up on the station.

He’d watched it work. There. Down here . . . he’d watched the world change, and he understood atevi for whom it had changed too fast. His job—his job,as Mospheira had originally defined it—was to keep the peace and recommend the rate at which star-faring technology would be safe in atevi hands.

In that sense, he’d failed miserably. But eventshad proceeded too fast, there’d been no time to temper the impact, and now . . .