Divergence

by C. J. Cherryh

  “I do not believe that!”

  “Nonetheless, he was, and may still be in Lord Machigi’s employ. One can understand why he did it during the Troubles. But if he did it then, he still might. And this matters. Are you following this? Lord Machigi is a safe and truthful ally so long as his concerns are all with the Marid. But if he had anything to do with our cousin showing up at Tirnamardi to ask Uncle’s support, it is all different. If Machigi, an ally of your great-grandmother, has extended a finger into midlands politics, if he has attempted to insert an agent into my clan and yours, a present neighbor to Lord Tatiseigi and a future neighbor to your sister . . .”

  His heart began to beat heavily and faster. “Honored Mother, I see what you are saying, but . . .”

  “That is why she invited Nomari on this venture, all innocent, with Lord Machigi aboard. She has everything invested in Lord Machigi keeping his place in the Marid and doing what she expects. She does not favor anything or anyone who may interfere with that, or who may give Machigi ideas of power outside the Marid. Even if he did not send Nomari north to deal with Uncle Tatiseigi, who actually has Nomari’s man’chi? Machigi may effectively have saved his life.”

  “We have it!” Cajeiri said. “Uncle has it, I have it, and you have it. I am sure of it!”

  “Are you that sure of it? He was young. He was left alive. He was running. And Machigi, at some point, took him up. Was it when he was young and vulnerable? Or was the transaction of a later date, in fair trade, service for shelter? A great deal rests on that one question.”

  “He is not Shadow Guild. I am sure of that.”

  “I agree. They killed his parents and his brother. They hunted him to kill him. All that, I think your great-grandmother accepts. But that he has wandered the country for years unattached—”

  “But gaining the man’chi of all the Ajuri that also ran . . .”

  “That is the thing, is it not? He gained others. He has the gift. One is born with it or gains it in life. And Nomari has it. He cannot move me, son of mine, nor you, being what we are, outside Ajuri, but you saw him meeting the clan, you watched him respond to them, you saw what he roused, yes. He has the gift. He can lead. Adversity crushes some, rouses others, and he clearly has it. The question is—and your great-grandmother did not witness him with his own people—in what direction he will take them. It is difficult to explain to your great-grandmother when she did not witness it. You know how she is. Her own eyes see it, or it does not exist. And when she sees clear facts, she will reinterpret them in her own way. You have noticed that.”

  He had. It was true. But he did not want to take Mother’s side against mani. It was man’chi, it was who he was, and Mother, sadly, did know that.

  “She is not all that stubborn,” he said.

  “You are so like her,” Mother said.

  “But I am right in this.”

  “I hope you are. I do hope it,” Mother said. “But there are liars that can be anyone. Shishogi was one. Something was missing in him, so he could become whatever he needed to be. I think even my father—to a certain extent—was one.”

  Grandfather had scared him. He felt a chill, remembering it. But Grandfather had died trying to turn on Shishogi.

  They hoped that was what he had been doing.

  “It is an Ajuri curse,” Mother said. “And the only thing we can do about it, son of mine, is be aware of it, and not to carry it on. I think, in effect, it is a prime reason your great-grandmother has always mistrusted me.”

  She does not, would be the polite thing to say. But he was too old to say that. “I think her opinion is improving, honored Mother. I think she just has not understood.”

  “She did not want me in her children’s bloodline,” Mother said. “As she has grave doubts about Nomari. I hope, I personally hope, that he is everything we hope he is, and not what she fears he is.”

  “She is not superstitious. She says the ’counters are a cheat. She has no care how many red flowers are on a table.”

  “Oh, but you may wager she has counted them—habit, perhaps. She was brought up in the old way, and more of it governs her than you have ever seen.”

  “She taught Father, and he has no respect for ’counters. Or superstition.”

  “And you do not.”

  His shoulders gave an involuntary twitch. It seemed courting misfortune to say it aloud. “I think Father is right.”

  “Oh, politic!”

  “He is.”

  “And I think much the same. But, understand, son of mine, I respect your great-grandmother. I simply was not in her plans for her son. She did not trust Ajuri, she did not want Ajuri linked to Uncle Tatiseigi, and certainly not to your father. From that beginning, we were bound to be at odds. And I admit she was entirely right. But had she had her way about Ajuri from the beginning, I would not exist and you would not have been born. I regret I lost you and she brought you up. That was not my choice either. But I see the result in front of me, and I would not choose any other son.”

  He had never heard her say so. He found his breathing quite stopped, and his mind thinking—what if he had not gone with Great-grandmother?

  But if he had not, then they all might have died, and the kyo would have destroyed Reunion, and the mainland might be at war with Mospheira and the ship, which they never could win.

  “Honored Mother,” he said. “Father chose the best.”

  She said nothing for a moment, then gave a thankful sort of nod, but face—she maintained it for a lengthy moment, so he knew she was moved, and was not letting it out.

  “So,” she said. “This morning another train has arrived in the region. Your father is acting. Your father would not have chosen this particular day to move on the Marid, granted two key lordships are vacant and the humans are about to start dropping from the skies at our spaceport, but the Marid has never chosen convenient moments. Your father could not have ignored the Dojisigin making a move to take Senjin under its administration, and your great-grandmother decided Lord Machigi’s warning this was increasingly likely made it a choice between contesting it after it had happened, or preventing it entirely. Her plan is to get Lord Bregani’s cooperation to maintain a force there, wear the Shadow Guild down, taking out their resources, taking out their agents, and reducing the threat to manageable size. Unfortunately she has become the Shadow Guild’s prime target, and we have word that the threat involves several Shadow Guild moves to assassinate her, and anyone else in her company.”

  His heart was beating fast. He was moved to say, I know. But that would expose Rieni, and it was not fair. He let his distress show.

  “Surely we can warn her.”

  “We have warned her,” Mother said. “She is descending into the Marid and going ahead with her plans, relying on Bregani and Machigi.”

  “And nand’ Bren.” His throat felt dry. He finished his flavored water. “So what will Father do, honored Mother?”

  “He will put that train between your great-grandmother and the Dojisigin,” Mother said, “and he has not told me all of it. But he launched that train just after she left. I do not know what words they may have had, but I know he felt, on the one hand, that they could not ignore Machigi’s information, and on the other, that we do not want a war in the Marid. Nonetheless, he is launching a serious effort against Tiajo.”

  “Tiajo is nothing!”

  “Tiajo is their legitimacy. Without her, the administration falls apart, all the offices, all the authorizations, all the supplies in warehouse, all have to be taken over to be made to operate, and the Shadow Guild is short of that sort of agent. A clerk knows how to find and move supplies. The sort of agent they have trained will not have that ability. When things run short, finding more will be a problem. Their agents are foreigners. The Dojisigin will protect their own households first. Supplies will likely disappear. So will weapons, and transport. Fo
reigners have never fared well in such situations. Tiajo is nothing. But she is key to the system. Shishogi knew that. Many of his key people were clerks. Has your great-grandmother ever mentioned that?”

  “I . . . do not believe we have discussed it, honored Mother.”

  “Tiajo has to go down,” Mother said. “Quickly, before they can get her and the official seals away, to settle legitimacy of a successor. But your father has moved the heavens to protect your great-grandmother. That was his word on it. She often deals with areas that he cannot, for one reason and another, one in the field, one in the office dealing with committees and receiving reports. He cannot take the field. He would, but I, for one, have begged him not to. And Lord Geigi concurred. This has been going on even before your great-grandmother took it on herself to leave. I do not know everything they said, but certainly your father has been talking to him a great deal about the landings and transport of the humans from the station, and all that, and I know that they have talked about your great-grandmother and her projects, and about Senjin, and Lord Geigi was against your father having anything to do with it, because Dojisigin is all folds and mountains and very, very difficult land to find anybody.”

  “Lord Geigi could find them.”

  “I have heard something about that. I think that has been under discussion. But not for your father to go in, certainly.” Mother set down her brandy glass. “I do not want you to worry about it. You should be aware, but you should not worry. Your great-grandmother has been managing moves of her own long before either you or I was born, and she has the very best people around her. Cenedi is a very canny fellow. And she listens to him, more than anybody.”

  “And nand’ Bren,” Cajeiri said. “Nand’ Bren is very smart. And he can even get Lord Machigi to agree.”

  “That he can.” Mother stood up, and he must. He gave a little bow, understanding he was dismissed and he knew as much as Mother was willing to tell him, and, he almost thought, as much as Mother herself could guess, which was a great deal. Father came and went, or had the office door shut, and tonight it was no great surprise that Father missed most of supper.

  It was like that, to be aiji. He saw that. And when Father did talk, it seemed, at least in this, and probably because of Nomari, to be with Mother, and not even his aishid, or his own seniors could have gotten more than they had.

  “Do not worry too much,” Mother said at the last.

  But thinking how there was a question about Nomari, and that the Shadow Guild was making a serious effort to go after mani—worry seemed what he had to take from what Mother had told him.

  10

  The train moved on the flat now, after a last braking descent. It had gathered speed for a while during dinner, and in the racket of the faster clip, Bren took the chance to take a little sleep, a court official’s kind of nap, at the cleared table, head on arms, carefully not mussing his clothes.

  A change in pace waked him. He lifted his head.

  “We are approaching the other train,” Jago said.

  “The dowager,” he said, seeing Narani and Jeladi and Banichi, but not Tano or Algini in the compartment.

  “We are waiting for a message,” Jago said.

  The dowager might be doing the same as he had, there being no guarantee of rest anywhere in the future.

  “They are waiting on the siding,” Bren said.

  “Yes,” Jago said. “Communication is minimum. We will pull alongside and confer. The dowager is preparing and wishes you to be ready.”

  “I am,” he said. Information had been in extremely short supply. One hoped to have more of it in short order. He stood up, and heard the clicks of the rail becoming less frequent.

  “My coat,” he said, and waited for assistance, hoping, meanwhile that there might be some sort of news from Shejidan, possibly some instruction, or information from Koperna.

  Narani brought the bulletproof vest. He did not object. There was too much at stake. But he was surprised by Jeladi offering a heavier coat, not the extremely heavy one he had worn up in Hasjuran outdoors, but the middling-heavy one.

  He did not ask. It was a coat, it was there, and perhaps they were going to stand a bit and shut down the heating. He had no idea. Perhaps he might be going across to confer with the other train—it might become his job, though he rather expected Guild to have their orders . . .

  The question would be whether Ilisidi would be happy with those orders.

  He could well be sent across, maybe more than once, if there was to be a dispute in proxy between Ilisidi and Tabini. He did not look forward to that, if such proved to be the case, but go he would, certainly, as many times as he had to enter prickly situations, and he hoped they would manage to coordinate whatever was going on.

  At very least, what they were approaching now was their mystery train, it was on their side, and, Jago informed him, putting on her own heavier jacket, they would indeed be going outside.

  Slower and slower.

  “The dowager is going outside,” Banichi said. “Everyone is going outside. And when we do, we are asked to look up.”

  Up, for God’s sake . . .

  “Why?”

  “We do not know,” Jago said.

  It was the dowager’s instruction, from her aishid. One went.

  The Red Train was at a standstill. The corridors resounded to movements, and even Narani and Jeladi were putting on coats.

  Bren followed Banichi and Jago, expecting that Tano and Algini, wherever they were, would join them. Somewhere a door opened, and as they exited the passage doors the smell of the air was different, fresh. They opened the door to the Guild car, bound toward the Red Car, Bren supposed, and the air that wafted to them was cool without being icy. They passed that car, and the galley, and by now the general opening of passage doors produced a breeze through the length of the train that scoured out the stale air of so many days. By the time they reached the Red Car itself, with other Guild behind them, it was evident that that car’s outer door was open, and a cool wind was coming through.

  They reached the Red Car itself, behind a few of the cooks, and Bindanda. The Red Car’s door opened on night, and a plain stretching as far as the eye could see. And stars. And people outside, on the slope of the railbed, standing and looking at the heavens.

  Look up, the advisement was, and the first out—Guild—pointed to a place in the sky. Bren directed his own attention to the steps, which were always too high for his convenience, held to the safety grip and trusted Banichi, whose hand was right there on his landing.

  Then, with his feet on safe gravel, he looked up, up from the reedy plain, the endless flat, with people standing outside, and the engine of the second, modern train sitting there to the side of their own steam engine, ghostlike in the clouds that rose around the Red Train’s engine.

  Further up, where people were pointing, now.

  There was indeed something in the heavens, among the dusting of stars and the sliver of moon. It was strange, and vague, like a full moon that failed to shine.

  Ilisidi was near him, as his eyes adjusted to the dark. She was wrapped in black furs, limned in the glow from the doorway of the Red Car. Staff was by her. Cenedi, distinguishable by the white in his hair. Nawari, beside him and the dowager . . . all looking skyward and exchanging words with each other. And another distance away stood Bregani and his family, and Nomari, and Machigi, all with their separate guards. Everyone was out and looking up at that dim intruder in the heavens.

  Suddenly that disc in the sky flew away as if carried by winds aloft—and a fire flared up where the disc had been, four fires, after the initial flare, at even distance from each other . . . fires that grew closer and closer, not quite overhead, but somewhat out of their plane.

  It came lower, not as something wafting on the wind, but something coming with purpose. The light of those fires aloft began to illuminate
the entire area, the people outside their train and its engine, staring aloft, as that thing descended from the heavens.

  A shuttle? A shuttle landing was not fire and thunder, rather a rolling set-down on a runway. It was something else, something unpredicted, potentially worrisome when more than humans and atevi had recently visited in the heavens—but not likely kyo, either.

  No. Whatever it was, it was expected and known to that other train, which indicated they should look to the space station as its origin.

  And when he thought that, he immediately knew what he was seeing: one of Lord Geigi’s landers, coming down. There had been a number of them placed at strategic points on the mainland during the Troubles—none since.

  Until now.

  That disc that had blown away was the petal sail—the parachute. The rest was up to the engines. And the craft finished the descent on its own, its rocket boosters providing the light that filled the whole area as it came down. When it touched, out in the flat, it settled gently, twice the bulk of a railroad engine standing on end, and leveled itself, while grass and brush burned in a ring about it and smoke went up around it like a curtain. Lights flared behind that curtain, red and green and blazing blue.

  Ilisidi had never seen one land, either: Bren well knew that. But she stood watching, leaning on her cane, and quite as sure as he was what she was seeing, knowing it was Lord Geigi’s, and knowing that things at issue had surely just gotten—larger.

  A lot larger.

  Machigi, Lord Bregani and his family, Nomari—and all the Guild and staff who had never seen the like—had to be appalled.

  And with this arrival, the question of who had sent the train this morning suddenly became much wider.