Precursor

by C. J. Cherryh

  “We have the other shuttles, not yet complete, but approaching it.”

  “And no destination for them without the station, and without the ship,” Jase said. “Nadiin-ji, I can’t leave Ramirez to die. I have to go back to him, now. He has to have the medicines. That’s the answer to all of this. He can’t die. I agree we have to get him here. We have to get him help. But right now, he needs help where he is, and every moment I stay here, the condition in the corridors could change.”

  “Thirty days’ wait,” Jago said. “Thirty days and an unpredictable situation.”

  “What situation? We’ve never received this information,” Bren said in a tone of mock indignation. “We’ve had no visitor. We know nothing. They’re cutting us off from Tabini’s messages and no knowing what else, but we know nothing of that; we’re completely ignorant and suppose Tabini simply has nothing to say. We carry on for thirty days, and wait for our messages to get down with the crew.”

  “We might trade one steward for one servant,” Banichi said. “Nojana would be an asset. The shuttle can spare him.”

  “Dangerous,” Bren said.

  “We have to get them word, at any event,” Banichi said. “If they see nothing of us, the shuttle will have a mechanical hold, some small problem, until they do hear.”

  How could he not foresee Banichi would have some such arrangement? He was appalled. “So we must contact them… and we have Kroger to deal with, too. We can’t let them blithely proceed while we change our plans. They’ll be outraged.”

  “One has one’s tasks to do,” Banichi said.

  Bren cast him an unhappy look.

  “First I must find where Jase is lodged,” Banichi said, “and safeguard his return. Then Kroger. But Kandana can go to the shuttle, and exchange very easily with Nojana. If Nojana arrives, we shall know the message reached them.”

  “Be careful,” Bren said.

  “I mean to be,” Banichi said. “Shall we find the medications, Bren-ji?”

  “Do,” Bren said, and laid a hand on Jase’s shoulder. “If the place you’re hiding has you in this condition, it can’t be helping Ramirez. We have to get him here, into warmth, and care.”

  “He won’t,” Jase said, down to the honest truth. “He won’t agree. I tried to persuade him. He’s off his head, maybe, but I don’t think so. While he’s on his own, he’s still in command. He hasn’t appealed to anyone else, any outsider. He’ll order the crew when he’s strong enough.”

  “What’s the damage?” Bren asked. “What help has he got? What care?”

  “There’s a medic with us,” Jase said. “Or he might have died. We’ve gotten supplies in. We’ve got a blanket for him. We’re just kind of short.”

  “He needs warmth,” Bren translated. “Jase, think in Ragi.”

  Jase made an obvious, physical effort. “I’m trying,” he said in that language. “I’m just tired. Questions. A lot of questions. No sleep. Hiding. I’m not thinking at my best.”

  “One of my sweaters,” Bren said. “I know we brought a couple. Whatever we can fit you up with. Is cold all you’re contending with?”

  “Cold, dark, there’s just not much…” Jase looked for a moment as if he’d fall on his face, and Bren brought him up with a hand on his shoulder.

  “The hell you’re fit to go back!”

  “Have to,” Jase said. “Not a choice.”

  “Banichi, if you can assess the conditions, determine whether we have anything that might assist.”

  “We have an emergency supply, condensates, warming cylinders, oxygen, water.”

  “We don’t have liquid water,” Jase said, “but we take ice. All of that, all of that would help.”

  “Easily done,” Banichi said. “We should move soon. Jasi-ji is right. This is a period of little activity in the corridors; it will increase in another half hour. Jago will go to Kroger, Kandana to Nojana, and I will find where Jase is hiding.”

  “Can Kandana do it? Will he know his way?”

  “There, quite well, I’m sure,” Banichi said. “And Nojana needs no instruction.”

  “Then do it,” Bren said. At certain times a prudent, reasonable man simply had to trust his security was right and dismiss the alarms clenching up his own stomach as far less important, not deserving of panic.

  He was afraid, nonetheless. He was altogether afraid, and it was as hard to send Banichi and Jago out on their risky ventures as it was to send Jase off to his hiding place.

  “You tell them,” he said last to Jase, “that if they harm you, the aiji will take a very hard line with them, and that the aiji has a firm alliance with Mospheira, no matter what they think; tell them you’re highly regarded in the Mospheiran government as well, and if they harm a hair on your head they’ll have no cooperation.”

  “I never was as convincing as you,” Jase said, in a laugh a little short of desperate.

  “If they harm you,” Bren said, “in any way, I’ll file Intent. I’m not joking. I’ll take them down, personally, under the legitimate provisions of atevi law.”

  Jase had started to laugh, obedient good will, but then he seemed to understand that it was indeed serious. Jase understood Banichi’s Guild very well, by all his experience on the planet.

  “I’m not worth that,” Jase said.

  “If they deal badly with one of their own, who wishes them nothing but good” Bren said, “then damn them to hell, and we’ll govern, the aiji will govern this whole solar system, by atevi law. The aiji will tolerate all sorts of provocations, but you think about it, Jase. Chaos is the absolute enemy of the aishidi’tat, and he won’t have it, he won’t have the abuse of his own associates up here. I told you that you have power. Use it!” He took Jase by both arms and lightened his grip on the left as Jase winced. “You get back here, hear me? Make it unnecessary for me to do anything so rash. I set that on your shoulders, because if anything happens to you, I’ll take this place apart. Hear me?”

  “I do,” Jase said. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Fishing trip,” Bren said. “Promise.”

  “Deal,” Jase said. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got to go now.”

  “Get out of here,” Bren said. “Banichi.”

  “I am with nand’ Jase,” Banichi said. “Jago-ji, instruct Kandana.”

  “Yes,” Jago said, and on that, Banichi hurried Jase out the supposedly locked door, with no fuss or delay at all.

  “It’s not supposed to do that,” Bren said, feeling that things were not at all going according to his preferences. Half an hour ago he’d thought he was bound down to the planet where he could present Tabini apologetically with a negotiation gone to hell and ask his brother whether he’d been able to find his wife and children.

  That was not the state of affairs he had. He had just been coopted into the very thing he least wanted, and the very thing that might give Tabini what he demanded, if they could keep Ramirez alive… if he could get his security team back alive, and Jase back alive.

  Someone was in deadly earnest, some eruption of factional violence within the crew, and he could only look to their defenses and hope his security had foreseen the control of heat, light, and air being in hostile hands up here.

  He could not permit the situation to degenerate. He had his meeting scheduled with Sabin, sure as he was she would break the appointment. He had Ramirez within reach, and the means, perhaps, perhaps, to get word to the crew—if he could get to the one almost-friendly officer in C1…

  He sat down with his computer and drafted an announcement:

  Captain Ramirez, having suffered an attempt on his life, has taken shelter…

  Sometimes one could see things more clearly in draft. And if that message went out, the immediate counter-rumor would be that outsiders had done it; if Ramirez died, they would be left with that accusation hanging over them.

  But if Ramirez died, Jase would be the scapegoat, Jase who had ties to the foreign power, Jase who could no longer be trusted.

  H
e saw the net drawing about them. He saw absolute chaos developing in the prospect of Kroger going down and him staying and his crew running about the corridors in various small teams.

  He really wanted an antacid.

  He wrote: A dissident faction on the Guild Council has attacked and wounded Captain Ramirez. He appeals for support among the crew. The crew must demand the return of Ramirez and the support of his agreements…

  Who? he asked himself in despair. Who would support those programs?

  And he remembered Ogun’s face, Ogun’s handshake, the fact that Ramirez had chosen Ogun to sit with him, the whole changing body language of that meeting that indicated to him that Ogun, too, had reached a like decision.

  He cleared that draft and wrote, a third time:

  Captain Ogun, Captain Ramirez needs your help. Jase Graham saved his life from an attack from someone who wanted the agreements nullified. I think you know better than I who that would be. We will stand by you and Ramirez and the agreements, and we have rejected the chance to go down to the planet. During this crisis, we offer whatever support you may need, including secure quarters.

  He opted not to rouse help from Cl just yet. But he wrote:

  Aiji-ma, things are going as optimally as in any machimi of homecoming.

  And in Mosphei’, to his mother:

  Please let me know how things are going.

  He wanted to write: I’ve not been sure my messages are reaching you, but he dared not give so strong a hint that he suspected the majority of his messages were going straight into a black hole, and that the ones he had been getting were old messages recycled.

  Instead he wrote: I’ve had a great deal of time to think how very much the family has arranged its affairs and its expectations around me, and I think this has always been a strain on everyone. Trust that I’m well, Mum, and that I’m happy where I am. My brother’s grown up into a remarkable man, and I hope you see that and give those great kids of his a hug for me. We’re both your successes. I just turned out a little different, that’s all, and I’m very content with that difference and with the choices I’ve made. I’ll never stop loving you and Toby, and no matter where I am, I’ll always be with you in mind and heart.

  It was one of his better letters. He hoped it survived to get to her.

  He wrote to a few of the councillors as well, the usual assurances that he remembered them. He did. He wrote to his staff, bidding them take privilege as they could and rest, since more work seemed imminent.

  He hoped that would be the case.

  He waited until near stationside dawn, and was still waiting when Nojana turned up, quietly.

  “Nadi,” Narani said, “Nojana has arrived safely. What place shall I assign him?”

  “Kandana’s, for now,” Bren said, and heaved a breath of relief, hoping now that the shuttle made schedule. “Thank him. I’ll speak to him after breakfast.”

  In a very little more, Jago slipped into the section.

  “How did they take it?” Bren asked her first of all. “How was it out there?”

  Jago gave a delicate shrug. “Banichi isn’t back yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “There was a close pass of their security,” Jago said. “I heard them, and feared they might come my way. I took a lift up, then down again when I hoped they had gone.”

  Hearing. There was an atevi advantage he generally forgot to reckon.

  “I hope Banichi hurries,” he said. “The Mospheirans weren’t pleased, I’ll imagine.”

  “Not pleased. Tom-nadi is still going down, to fly to Mospheira to report; he hopes to come back on the next shuttle. Gin-nadi is remaining. She thanks you for your advisement and wishes to meet with you.”

  “You told her about Ramirez.”

  “Yes, nadi.” Jago was very clear on that. “I told Kate-nadi to be sure the message was accurate, and asked Kate-nadi not to speak the news aloud, but to write it for her very small and to beg her not to speak this information aloud even among themselves. I indicated also we believe they are monitored. She replied by writing, and I memorized it and destroyed the note: namely this.” Jago took a breath. “ ’The hardliners have taken control. They want to deal only with us, using only Mos-pheiran help, no atevi in orbit. They want to fill out the crew by training Mospheirans. I’ve told them we can’t produce the resources and can’t manufacture what they need. They talk about surmounting that problem. The ship is armed, but I don’t know what they can do. I believe we are potentially in trouble.’ That is word for word her answer. Tom-nadi is going down to warn the President.”

  “It’s not good news.”

  “Do they think to start another war?” Jago asked him. “Does this reference to weapons mean weapons turned against the mainland?”

  “I don’t discount the possibility. I rather think they mean that they can get the Mospheirans up here. That means getting their hands on a shuttle and being able to fly it.”

  “The shuttle has no accessible autopilot,” Jago reminded him.

  The autopilot required a complex code which atevi pilots would not surrender. “I’ll feel better when I know it’s away clear,” Bren said, and thought to himself, And when Banichi’s back.

  * * *

  Chapter 22

  « ^ »

  C1, Bren said, ”send-receive to Mogari-nai.” “Yes, sir.”

  There was no question to him about the shuttle, which was due to depart. Nojana had informed them that the captain’s instructions were clear and that the shuttle was continuing a normal preparation for launch. Kandana would be aboard by now; Lund would be headed in that direction at any moment, for a launch at local 0900, and there was still no Banichi, still no word from Jase, no word, as Bren expected at any moment, that the meeting with Sabin was canceled.

  Come on, he wished Banichi, as everyone on staff tried to pretend cheerfulness in spite of the situation. Jago was brisk, cheerful in her comings and goings.

  Bren thought of the fact of Banichi’s absence in every other breath, telling himself that if anything should happen to Banichi for his sake he would never forgive himself. He could hardly look at Jago. He had no cheerfulness to spare.

  The upload was felicitations for the safe shuttle flight from numerous agencies, and from his mother…

  From his mother, an honest-to-God letter.

  They say you’re on the space station, and that’s why you couldn’t return my calls. I shouldn’t be surprised ever at anything, I suppose. I know you must be worried about Barb. I sent her flowers in your name. She came through the surgery. She’s very strong. She’s gotten rid of a couple of the tubes, which she says is about time. I haven’t told her where you are. She doesn’t remember anything about the accident. She asks whether she fell on the escalators or whether she was shot or something.

  And you tell her, but she forgets. They still have her sedated, and she wanders in and out. She talked about going up to Mt. Adams with you, to the lodge. She said you’d promised that. I haven’t told her anything to the contrary. You can’t reason with sick people and this isn’t the time for it.

  I had a disturbing call from Toby. He’s having trouble with Jill. He says she objects to his coming here, as if she didn’t visit her family two and three times a year, not to mention dropping those kids on Louise. I think Toby should put his foot down about that. The children run around at all hours, and I know they’ve slipped out of the house at night. Louise can’t keep up with them, and if Jill doesn’t take a strong hand with those kids, they’re going to be a problem in another couple of years. Toby just thinks anything Jill wants is fine and the kids are spoiled the same way. Too many material things, not enough family time, and by my opinion, too much running about on that boat. I never approved of exposing the children to the mainland. I know certain things are all right for you. But the children shouldn’t see them.

  At any rate, things are quieter here. I wish you were here.

  Why did he let things like this bother him? Why, am
id every other world-threatening worry he had, did this one letter send his blood pressure soaring, and how could it persuade him he was derelict not to drop everything and run home and talk sense to his mother?

  There was no logic. She was his mother.

  He wished she hadn’t written today. He honestly wished that. And felt guilty about it. He felt angry about Barb lying there with a damned batch of flowers his mother had signed his name to.

  How dare she? Easily. She just did, that was all. She knew best. Ask her.

  “Bren-ji.” It was Jago who leaned in the door, supporting her weight in transit on the door frame. “Four men outside.”

  The knell of doom, it might be. His mind leaped into a completely different track: Banichi might have run into serious trouble. Talking them out of it might be an option, but not with a handful of armed men.

  And there was a reason atevi residences were constructed as they were. “Mantos an,” he said, for which there was no translation, nor any more order needed. Jago relayed the order, mantos an, and every door they owned whisked shut, within the same ten seconds.

  Jago stayed on his side of the door. He was certain that Tano and Algini were in the security post, and that that door was shut, and in his mind’s eye he could all but see Narani, alone, walking to the door.

  The station might have opened that outer door and secured a tactical advantage. Whatever was up, they had opted not to do that.

  Bren rose, having taken the gun from his computer case, wondering if the captains’ men might cut down Narani and use some electronic key to the door locks, defeating all but armed resistence; and for some moments he waited, quiet, straining to hear any activity at all outside.

  Then came a light, muted tap at the door, and Jago opened it, on her guard: he stood with gun leveled.

  Narani was there, alone, with the silver tray, bearing an odd wisp of pink cellophane. A candy wrapper, and a card.

  “They have no message cylinders, as it seems,” Narani said. “They are Johnson-nadi and his associates, the ones displaced by our residency.”

  Bren cast Jago half a glance, confused, but it was most certainly a candy wrapper, and somehow it had ended up in the transaction with Johnson and associates. “Kaplan,” was his instant guess, the only route by which it might have happened, and he set his gun carefully on the counter and went out into the hall, with Narani.