Resurgence

by C. J. Cherryh

  Sobering thought, definitely. Reasonable. Cold and logical.

  “This Tenjin,” Ilisidi said.

  “The whole aishid is in custody, aiji-ma,” Bren said. “One man is wounded fairly seriously, and he was the only one who fired. It might have been a ricochet.”

  “Self-harm, possibly,” Jago said. “An attempt not to carry out his orders.”

  “Will he die?” Ilisidi asked.

  “A Guild medic is likely attending him in the car next to Lord Bregani’s,” Bren said.

  “Nand’ Siegi will go,” Ilisidi said, with a wave of her hand at the servant standing in the shadows. “Now.”

  Nand’ Siegi was the dowager’s personal physician, a surgeon, as well, and he was good.

  Very good.

  And the order would be passed.

  “This is what we feared,” Ilisidi said. “They did not succeed with Homura and Momichi. But their tactic has potential to get them information and open doors. To ask someone to murder—such agents are a problem. The Guild will have to take this into account in checking security. Tano-nadi. How did Algini fare?”

  Again, a translation.

  “Stitches, aiji-ma. Superficial. The deafness is, we think, temporary.”

  “Go see to your own welfare. My own young men will attend the paidhi.”

  A flurry of hand-signs, and Tano looked at Bren for confirmation—evidence in itself of a little shock. Or regret.

  “Yes.” Bren nodded, adding his own signs. “Go. See to Algini.”

  “Nandi. Aiji-ma.” That, too, was in the wrong order. Tano was doing his best. Almost Bren ordered Jago to go with him, but Ilisidi gave her own order, and one of her young men moved to handle that matter.

  “A fine young man,” Ilisidi said.

  “He is,” Bren said. “He is very fine. Thank you, aiji-ma.”

  “Well, well, we may assume we have more exposure here than we wish, and we may be glad that these Dojisigi agents, however recruited, chose only to observe us in our one excursion to Topari’s house. We may also suspect that fear held them from acting until they were ordered to do so. We walked out and back safely once. But Homura himself must also stand a little scrutiny. He has broken free of their orders once. Still, the partners may still be alive, still in Shadow Guild hands, and we only hope his teammate is safe down in Senjin. Who knows what pressure may be on him?”

  “It is worrisome, aiji-ma. But they showed themselves men of character at Tirnamardi.”

  “Not of character enough, perhaps, to have trusted us soon enough. They found their conscience late. One has to ask, however, whether a fruitless search for their partners has worn on them, and what their state of mind is now.”

  “One wishes to help them. This tactic they are using cannot be our future, aiji-ma.”

  “We are determined it will not be,” Ilisidi said. “We resolve it will not. Mercy for the hands they use, but none for them. None. And no excuse for criminals that twist every rule of decency and upend civilization itself, paidhi. No pity.”

  It was no exaggeration, he thought. Everything they valued was under assault by a group cynical, desperate, and defying all that was civilized. It might be a small number of individuals, but it had the potential to tear at the social fabric of the aishidi’tat.

  It would not become acceptable. He made himself that promise.

  “Go,” Ilisidi said. “Explain to Lord Bregani and the others. Do your job, paidhi-ji.”

  She was not accustomed to use that intimate address, as if he were of her household. It warmed a cold moment. “Aiji-ma,” he said, and quietly got up, with Jago, and went out to do exactly that.

  Just as he reached the corridor, the lights came on, powered this time by internal means, he thought, as they had been relying on a transformer near them.

  It seemed a good omen.

  * * *

  • • •

  A rap had come at Cajeiri’s door, and instead of going himself, Cajeiri had let Eisi and Liedi answer it.

  Which had not been an answer to his request to Bujavid storage for another bookcase, as he had expected, but mail.

  That was unusual. Liedi closed the door, and Eisi brought the cylindrical and large brown packet to Cajeiri, at his desk. It bore the stamp of the Bujavid’s direct courier, not just the mail room downstairs; and a second stamp that was Father’s; and it had come to him.

  The packet contained a protective wrapper that looked old, wrinkled and scarred paper itself with several seals, saying Hanomiri Park.

  It was the animal park. And it contained, amid blueprints, a note from Father.

  What do you think? The park had this drawn up twenty-six years ago, but it is still their ambition, and it could be done from these plans.

  Blueprints. Real blueprints. He had never handled any such serious thing. He looked it over, saw a modern erasable line that added the note: this is the area, and a second sheet that gave plans for huge windows. Little faceless people gave the scale.

  It looked not quite tall enough, if those were people. He thought about it, and with some trepidation added another erasable note saying, Boji can climb anything. Do not have a place for him to jump to from any tree. He can jump 20 dei sideways and nothing is too tall for him.

  Boji hopped to a branch in his cage, then to the rattling side filigree.

  He would miss that sound. Even the screeches. A tapestry would be nice on that wall. But then it would be like every other sitting room.

  Boji rattled the cage loudly—really loudly.

  And looked toward the door.

  Something was going on. A considerable to-and-fro out in the corridor, now he thought to listen, and when Antaro and the rest of his junior aishid came in from the depths of his apartment, looking very serious, he was certain of it.

  “The seniors said stay with you, Jeri-ji,” Antaro said. “They have gone to the security station.”

  “Is Father all right?”

  “He is safe. The household is safe, or we would be receiving all manner of alarms,” Jegari said. “But there is a great deal of movement within the Guild, here and elsewhere.”

  “We are trying to find out,” Lucasi said, “but our codes do not bring us anything.”

  “Well, whatever is going on,” Cajeiri said, “we must be ready.” He was in his shirt sleeves, but Eisi and Liedi were in the doorway. “My coat, nadiin-ji!”

  They moved, not asking which one. Boji was continuing to set up a fuss, but not so loud a one.

  “The seniors are reporting in,” Antaro said. “There has been an incident involving the Red Train. Information has reached your father’s office.”

  “I shall go,” he said, and hurried out into the hall, which did not look greatly disturbed, but as he headed for Father’s office, he heard someone knock at the front door of the apartment, and a second later, heard it opened.

  He stopped, turned back toward the hall to see, and it was Uncle Tatiseigi, and his aishid.

  “Great-uncle!” he said. “Is mani all right?”

  “There was an incident, aiji-meni,” Uncle said, out of breath. “We heard from your great-grandmother’s staff, but we have no specifics. No specifics. I am here to ask your father . . .”

  “Come,” he said. “Come.” He led Uncle straight past Guild who were uncommonly numerous in the hall, and to his father’s office door, which was also, uncommonly, open. Mother was coming, likewise, from the other end of the hall.

  He did not wait. He dodged an outbound pair of Guild and brought Uncle into the office.

  Father was on the phone, saying something about a suppression force in Senjin, and about Hasjuran, and the train.

  And Shadow Guild.

  Mother and Uncle stood quietly against the wall, and he joined them, while Guild consulted and left. Father knew they were there, clea
rly, but he continued to talk on the phone, receiving calls and making them.

  Are they all right? he wanted to ask. So, he was sure, did Mother and Uncle, but they said nothing, and so he just watched Father. And the Guild. His own aishid, outranked, was out in the hall, probably getting more information than he was, where he stood.

  “There was an attack,” Father said finally, turning to them. “It did not breach the train, and the only personnel who were outside are accounted for and safe. A device was detonated behind a transformer that was providing electrical power, and there was a fire, quickly suppressed. Two personnel were slightly injured, and suffered effects of the blast—neither seriously, and they have continued on duty. The Red Train is now supplying its own power, and can do so indefinitely. Lord Topari is extremely sorry, and has expressed that repeatedly, to any who will listen, but we doubt he is in any sense at fault. My grandmother is inconvenienced, which is to say—she will not let this pass, but she does not at present see a need to distract herself from operations in Senjin. Which are now underway. The lord of Senjin has signed into the railway association, and effectively will be doing business with Grandmother, and with Machigi of the Taisigin. That will annoy the Dojisigi considerably.”

  “But they are all right,” Cajeiri said.

  “They are all right,” Father said. “Your great-grandmother can be fairly persuasive, when she is sure she is right, and when has she ever been caught being otherwise? Lord Tatiseigi.” A nod. “Be assured she is comfortably in charge. And, Miri-ma.” It was his private name for Mother. “Perhaps while the damage reports come in and we begin to figure compensation for Lord Topari’s train station, we might settle ourselves to a little mid-afternoon brandy with our neighbor. Early, but it has already been such a day. Will you do us the honor, nand’ Tatiseigi? And we shall hear any subsequent reports that come in, from Senjin or from Hasjuran. I am sure there will be details.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Tea. And quiet, in blessed light, a light that hid nothing and offered no illusions.

  Bren set down his cup—he was in the curious place of host for two lords and an almost-lord, and he was the possessor of information that greatly concerned their situation.

  “Nandiin,” he said, “we are under assault, for no greater ill than attempting to agree among ourselves, and please accept my apology for the roughness outside your quarters. Troubling news has reached us, which we are still assessing. One regrets to say, Murai-daja, that one of your trusted guards, Tenjin, has been compromised by the Shadow Guild.”

  “No,” Murai said. “No, nand’ paidhi. He never would.”

  “We do not blame him, Murai-daja. We are informed that the Shadow Guild has kidnapped his mother, his wife, and his son, they have threatened their lives, and they are, unfortunately, ruthless enough to carry out the threat. The aiji-dowager has great sympathy for his situation, as do I, and we are not releasing any information that might indicate what happened aboard this train, or that this man is in custody. For what they may know, he is still in play.”

  The lady was upset, clearly, likewise her daughter and lord Bregani.

  “We do not believe,” Bren continued, “that the others of your bodyguard had any knowledge of this—not even his partner. The dowager regards the unit as compromised, but innocent, and intends to assist this young man as best she can at this remove. We believe that the explosion was intended to signal an action on his part, whether against me, or you, Lord Machigi or the dowager herself—a crude and unspecific signal, but our enemies would be pleased by any harm they could work—for publicity, if no greater advantage. It entirely failed, but the Shadow Guild cannot know it yet. I also have every hope the agent who triggered the explosion will be found—alive, we sincerely hope. The dowager’s men are looking further into it. We are safe here. The dowager will not be threatened with impunity. The incident has thus far served us, and exposed a problem—fortunately before anyone could be harmed, nand’ Bregani, and before Tenjin-nadi had to commit such a breach of trust. He has to be desperately afraid for his own family, and it is up to us to protect them by keeping this incident quiet. We are now looking for any means to find his family, and free them. It is a very terrible situation, nandiin. Anyone who has any exposure to such tactics is wise to take precautions. Most of all, we do not want the kidnappers holding his family to realize he has lost his value.”

  “Nandi.”

  A very quiet voice, from the corner of the bench seat.

  “Nadi?” Bren asked.

  “In Lusi’ei and several other places,” Nomari said, “I know people. People who can find people, and some who might know places.”

  Heads had turned. Even Machigi’s, when it was likely Machigi had used such resources in the past.

  “Granted,” Nomari said, “that they have not run when the Guild began to move. Some have immoveable assets. Understand, I would not betray these people, nand’ Bregani. They have done you no harm. And they might be supportive of a lord who ended Dojisigi threats and interference. I think they would be very grateful for a lord who did that.”

  There was a moment of profound silence.

  “Inform us,” Bregani said. “I shall be grateful for their assistance.”

  “Not all,” Nomari said, “have a clean legal record. Not all are Senjin by birth, but few would be safe outside your territory.”

  “Doubtless,” Machigi said, “some may be mine.”

  “I say it with the paidhi-aiji to witness,” Bregani said. “I have signed the documents. I have joined the aiji-dowager’s association. I ally myself with my neighbor to the south, and I will support the northern Guild in what action it takes to secure Senjin against Dojisigi retaliation. Tiajo is a blight on the Marid, and the organization that supports her is a far greater one. I say that, too, with the paidhi-aiji to witness. Nothing is safe from now on. She may do anything. Let me see Tenjin. Let me promise him we are doing all we can to find his family. And let it be true.”

  “I will support it,” Machigi said. “With all my resources.”

  “Nandiin,” Bren said, “Nomari-nadi, I shall inform the dowager.” Given that monitoring was probably operating again, along with the lighting in the windowless cars—it was very likely the dowager already knew.

  It might be a watershed on the way to peace. It might be the brink of disaster. At the moment, there was no way to know. But it signaled the union of the entire Marid, save one region of it, large and powerful as that portion might be.

  It signaled linkage of the south to the rail system.

  It signaled the likely approval of a new lord in Ajuri, one related to Tabini’s heir and Atageini, so the old axis of the Dojisigin Marid with the Kadagidi in the north would find no resurgence, if Tabini did not sever that troublesome clan into its constituent parts.

  It signaled—no one knew what, if Machigi’s Taisigi replaced Dojisigi as a sea power, but with connections eastward instead of west.

  “Brandy,” he said. It was something, that the paidhi-aiji dispensed the dowager’s brandy in charge of a meeting in the Red Car, but it seemed apt, at the moment. Lord Bregani had his man to see to, he had Tano and Algini on his mind, and Homura somewhere out there in the snowy township, with an agent on the loose who had triggered an assassination attempt in the Shadow Guild’s new style.

  There were things to do.

  But right now, given that the lights were back on and two old rivals had found common ground, they could make a good beginning.

  About the Author

  SFWA Grand Master C.J. Cherryh has written more than seventy books, including the highly popular Foreigner science fiction series. She won the Hugo Award for her novels Downbelow Station and Cyteen, and her short story "Cassandra." She has also won the Campbell Award, Locus Award, and more.

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