Protector

He was not sure he wanted to know what might happen back there, but he had done as much as he could, and perhaps more than he should. Black Guild uniforms were securely about them both, now, the presence of those nearest and most faithful, in every emotional sense. And he didn’t know whether he wasgoing to sleep tonight, playing that business over and over and trying to think of what he should have said, and whether he should have said less.

“Return becomes a relief, Bren-ji,” Geigi said. “In my steel world up there, in the atevi sector, I am free. The Guilds cooperate, and our little community is so reasonable.”

“May it remain that simple,” Bren said. They reached their own door, and Banichi or Jago had already passed a signal. It opened just as they got there, and Narani and Jeladi met them to take coats and ease their way into the safe quiet of a house at rest.

Interior lights were dimmed. There was not a sound of revelry to be heard, and the air smelled only of the flowers in the hallway. The aiji’s had not been the only party going on. His domestic staff and Geigi’s had held their own farewell celebration; but in the discreet way information flowed in a well-put-together staff, he had absolute faith they would have begun to set things in order once they knew the party in the aiji’s residence was ebbing down. He was sure that nothing now was out of order, and that he would find all the preparations for Geigi’s trip were on schedule.

He thanked Narani and Jeladi, who had stayed awake and dressed to let them in, and he dismissed Geigi and his bodyguard to two servants who turned up quietly in the inner hall—Geigi’s valets appeared; and his own valets, Supani and Koharu, had not gone to bed yet either.

“Koharu, if you will attend my aishid,” he said. His bodyguard was perfectly capable of seeing to their own persons, and usually did so, but they had a short turnaround before them, with breakfast scheduled for daybreak, and that train trip to make to the spaceport. Anything that would aid his bodyguard to get a little more sleep tonight was to the good, and Koharu went off in that direction.

Geigi, however had not gone to his room. Geigi quietly dismissed his own bodyguard, with his servants, and cast him a significant look.

“A moment, nadi-ji,” Bren said to Supani and Supani bowed and stood aside.

Geigi said quietly, “A moment of conversation, Bren-ji.”

“My office,” Bren said, and weary as he was, came quite, quite awake. It was nothing casual that brought a request to talk at this hour. He was sure of that.

He led the way into his small office and shut the door when they were inside. “Is it a one-pot problem, Geigi-ji? Or would you wish another brandy?”

“Tea would not help my sleep and the other would hasten it too much, Bren-ji. What I have to say is fairly brief. But you should hear it.”

“Indeed.” He gestured Geigi to a sturdy chair, and took its mate, at the side of the office. “I am listening.”

“The children. The young gentleman’s guests. And station politics,” Geigi said. “I have attempted twice to explain to the aiji. I have postponed saying anything to trouble you, in the notion that I would have the chance to speak to the aiji tonight. I did so. He has promised the young gentleman his festivity. You should know I argued against it.”

“Againstit,” Bren said. Geigi was the one who had conveyed the children’s messages, who had acted as intermediary in setting up the forthcoming encounter.

“The children the young gentleman knew on the ship,” Geigi said, “are, you recall, from Reunion.” Geigi cast a look at the side table, where a brandy service did reside. “I think I will have that brandy, if you will. But none of the staff to serve it, Bren-ji.”

“No need to trouble them,” Bren said, and got up and poured a small dose apiece, not that they either one had much capacity left.

Geigi took a sip, shut his eyes—composing his thoughts. Bren waited, not expecting good news.

The station’s politics—and mention of Reunion in connection with Cajeiri’s birthday guests—was not a well-omened beginning.

There resided an infelicitous fourdistinct populations currently on the space station. There were the ones atevi called the ship-humans, who had lived their whole lives aboard Phoenix.The ship had been absent from the world for centuries, and on its return had opened up the mothballed station and made contact with the planet.

The human enclave, centuries settled on the isle of Mospheira, were descendants of colonists who had come down from the space station, some to get freedom from the station authority, and the rest because the ship had left them and the station had lost so much population it could no longer sustain its operations. With the ship’s return, humans from Mospheira had reoccupied the station. That was the secondpopulation aboard.