Atevi associations in the microcosm, which atevi tracked in all their complexities back hundreds of years, weren’t something the paidhi could politely ask about, weren’t something the paidhi was well enough informed on to involve himself in, and he didn’t. The larger Association was stable. He’d not questioned it. He wasn’t even supposed to question it. It had been ironclad Foreign Affairs policy that the paidhiin dealt only with the central Association and kept their noses out of the smaller ones. Reports the paidhiin could get were laced with misinformation and gossip, recrimination, feud histories and threats—
But ask how Taiben’s neighboring estates had stood with each other in prehuman times—and, damn, of course the Padi Valley associations must be among the oldest: take it for that if only because archaeologists—a new science, a contagion from humans—had established several digs there, looking for truths earlier aijiin might not have tolerated finding.
“There were many wars there,” Jago said, “many wars. Not of fortresses like Malguri. The Ragi always prided themselves that they needed no walls.”
“Association would always happen among those leaders, though,” Banichi said. “And Taiben belonged to Tabini’s father-line. The mother-line, two generations ago, was from the Eastern Provinces.”
“Hence Malguri,” Jago said.
“Which,” Banichi said, “to condense a great deal of bloody history, then united with the Padi Valley to marry Tabini’s grandfather. Which had one effect: Tabini’s line is the only Padi Valley line not wholly concentrated in the Padi Valley—or wholly dependent on Padi Valley families. An advantage.”
“So if a new leader tried to come out of the Padi Valley now, he or she couldn’t hold the East. Is that what you’re saying?”
“There’s obviously one who could,” Banichi said.
“Ilisidi.”
“She failed election in the hasdrawad because the commons don’t trust her,” Banichi said. “The tashrid would be altogether another story. Unfortunately for Ilisidi, the tashrid isn’t where the successor is named—a profound reform, Bren-ji, the most profound reform. The commons choose. The fire and thunder of the debate was over the Treaty and the refugee settlement, all the lords struggling for advantage—but that one change was the knife in the dark. The commons always took orders how to vote.”
“Until,” Jago said, “the Treaty brought economic changes, and the commons became very independent. And will not vote against the interests of the commons. The Padi lords used to be the source of aijiin. Now they can’t get a private rail line built—without the favor of the hasdrawad and Tabini-aiji.”
“It’s certainly,” Banichi said, “been a bitter swallow for them. But productive of circumspection and political modesty—and quiet, most of the time. The commons simply won’t elect anyone with that old baggage on his back.”
“The Atigeini?” he asked. It wasn’t a conversation, it was a rapid-fire briefing, leading to something Tabini wanted him to know—or that his security thought he’d better know—fast. “Does Damiri tie him back to them? The paidhi, nadiin-ji, wishes he had information that helped him be more astute. I suddenly don’t follow what Tabini intends in this alliance.”
“An heir.”
“And an alliance with someone from these families? These very old families? I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.”
“No other aiji has the history with the commons that Tabini’s line has,” Jago said, “Tabini-aiji was elected by it; naturally the aiji whose line it favors wishes to keep the democratic system. Certain of the other lords, of course, might wish to change it back. But they’ll never secure election. A coup, on the other hand—”
“Overthrow of the hasdrawad itself?” Suddenly he didn’t like the train of logic. “Change back to the tashrid as electors?”
“Such are the stresses in the government,” Banichi said. “One certainly hopes it hasn’t a chance of happening. But that Damiri-daja, of the Padi Valley Atigeini, suddenly came into the open as Tabini’s lover—was directly related to the appearance of the ship, and to your safe return from Malguri.”
Stars and galaxies might not be in Banichi’s venue. But Banichi was a Guild assassin and very far up the ranks of such people: depend on it, Banichi knew the intricacies of systems and motives that caused people to file Intent.
“My return.”
“It meant,” Banichi said, “ostensibly that she felt Tabini-aiji was likely to be strengthened by this event in the heavens—not overthrown. That the longtime Atigeini ambition to rule in the Bu-javid was best achieved in the bedchamber, not the battlefield.”
“Is that your assessment of her thinking?”
“The paidhi is not a fool.” Banichi had a half-amused look on his face. “Say I ask myself that question often in a day. Exactly. The affair between them—I doubt is sham. They’ve shown—” Banichi made a small motion of the fingers “—singularly foolish moments of attraction. That, I judge, is real; and staff in a better position than I to judge say the same. That doesn’t mean they’ve taken leave of higher senses; Naidiri has standing orders that propriety is not to keep him out—while Damiri has relinquished her security staff, at least so far as her residence in the aiji’s apartment: the necessary concession of the inferior partner in such an arrangement, and a very difficult position for her security to be in. Your presence—has been an incidental salve to Damiri’s pride, and a test.”
“In case I were murdered in my bed.”
“It would be a very expensive gesture for the lady—who’s made, by both gestures, a very strong statement of disaffection from the Atigeini policies. You should know that Tatiseigi has made a career of disagreement with Tabini and Tabini’s father and his father with Tabini’s grandfather, for that matter. And Damiri offers the possibility of formal alliance. Not only her most potent self as mother of an heir, but a chance to break the cabal in the Padi Valley—and possibly, with Tatiseigi’s knowledge … to double-cross the aiji. Or possibly to overthrow Tatiseigi’s policies and his grasp of family authority.”
“I take it this is not general knowledge.”
“Common gossip. Not common knowledge, if the paidhi takes the difference in expressions.”
“I do take it.”
“This is a very dangerous time,” Banichi said, “within the Association. Quite natural that stresses would tend to manifest. In Mospheiran affairs … likewise a time of change. As we understand.” Banichi reached inside his jacket and pulled out a silver message cylinder. “Tabini asked us to brief you at least on the essentials of the neighbors. —And to destroy this and the accompanying tape after you’ve read it.”
Tabini’s seal.
Damn, Bren thought, and took it with no little trepidation. He unrolled it, read, very simply put, after Tabini’s heading,
Please observe great caution, do nothing to elude your security even for a moment. We expect a great deal of trouble, on very good advisement from very good sources.
The whereabouts of Hanks remains, specifically, a question. But we would not be surprised to find that she has been moved near Taiben, since the conspirators are few, their connections are strong in that vicinity, and they wish to bring as few as possible others of their fringes into public knowledge should matters go wrong for them. Certainly their more cautious supporters will not want to commit until and unless they demonstrate success.
I will not at all be surprised if individuals frequent in Hanks’ association initiated the matter. She seems to be operating in some freedom. Banichi has a tape copy of a communication we intercepted on the mainland. Listen to it and see if you can make sense of it.
He expected, dammit, before Banichi gave him the tape and Jago got up and brought him a recorder to play it on, that the tape involved not ship-to-ground communications but very terrestrial connections indeed.
And that the front of the tape would be a great deal of computer chatter—as Deana’s access code went through Mospheira’s electronic barriers like a
knife through butter.
Damn right her authorizations weren’t pulled. Completely live. Completely credited, where they were going. He jacked in, captured-and-isolated, read-only, as scared of those codes near his computer as he would have been of a ticking bomb.
The text was, again foreseeably, scrambled. He tried three code sets with his computer before one clicked.
After that, text flowed on his screen.
Cameron has turned coat and threatened the ship with unspecified atevi hostilities in order to have them land under the aiji’s control. He has meanwhile participated with the aiji’s authority to place me under communications blackout and, I am warned by reliable sources, to have me assassinated. The motive is complex, resting in the aiji’s ambitions to make the precedent of central control of dams, power grids, and rail apply to all natural resources, which will strip the provincial aijiin and the landholders of financial resources and centralize all international trade, with monopoly to the aiji in Shejidan, and consequently price controls which will considerably enrich the central government at the expense of local governments and rightful landholders.
Cameron has cooperated in this plan, whether wittingly or unwittingly, has actively backed the nationalization of resources, has suggested boycott as a tactic, has gone on a remarkable excursion to a remote observatory supported by the aiji of Shejidan and brought back a warped-space theory that I strongly believe is not based on atevi research, but on unauthorized translation of classified human mathematical concepts. This is calculated to disturb certain atevi conservative religious beliefs which are in stark contrast and political opposition to the aiji, who is not a believer in any philosophy, most particularly to throw certain provinces into religious upheaval and certain philosophical leaders into disrepute and disregard.
I am making this transmission from a secure base afforded me by the persons who have placed their lives in jeopardy by opposing this power grab on the part of the central government. In my judgment, we will do well to make this situation extremely clear to the representative from the ship if she in fact reaches Mospheira alive, which my informants suggest may not happen. The aiji may assassinate this individual and put the blame on his opposition. Since he clearly controls the Assassins’ Guild, getting a filing against his political enemies at that point would be possible. This would also, I am informed, serve as a purge of the Guild, as all Guild members opposing his aims would very quickly find themselves targeted by the aiji’s very extensive network.
I urge under the strongest terms that the government recall Cameron, revoke his authority and his codes, and demand an explanation of his actions, which are by no means in the interest of Mospheira, of the human population in general, or of atevi citizens. I do not know and cannot ascertain whether he is aware what he is aiding or to what purpose his advice and ability is being used, but I consider that my life is in present danger from agencies with whom he is working. Therefore I will move from place to place and attempt to preserve my usefulness in my job.
Please pass a message to my family that I am at the moment safe and well and protected by persons who have acted in behalf of their freedom and rights of self-determination.
He didn’t swear. He didn’t want expression to cross his face—he wasn’t sure he was going to translate this message exactly, at this time, or in the foreseeable future. He rested his elbow on the armrest and his knuckle against his lip, thinking. He’d defined the beginning of the section; he defined the end; he captured, reran it, rereading to determine that, no, there was no hint of it being taken under duress, there were none of the words to signal that such was the case—and he’d hope, in a piece like that, to see words like discorrespondance, decorrelationary, or contrarecidivistic, that to a human eye didn’t quite belong in typical text in the worst diplomatese—the standard freehand signal that the whole piece was under duress, always a worry when a note that explosive came in on computer-to-computer transmission.
But there was no such clue. He read it a third time simply to absorb the tenor and content, to try to strip out emotional reactions, and to ask himself honestly whether there was any remote, even astronomically remote or conceivable likelihood that Deana was actually right and he was wrong.
That Tabini’s true aim in the current crisis was elimination of dissent.
No, dammit, it was not the purpose of Tabini’s actions. It was not the action of the aiji whose answer to rebels in Malguri had generally been understated, as witness llisidi’s corroboration that things were settled; the aiji whose punitive use of the Guild had been, if at all during his administration, so covert as to be undetected. It was not the action of the aiji who, if reports were true, having perhaps assassinated his own father, at least declined to assassinate his grandmother, who was still in all accounts a very reasonable culprit in the demise of her son.
One added sideways and up and down and power grab didn’t describe Tabini in the least.
It didn’t describe Tabini’s overenthusiastic (by Ilisidi’s lights) embrace of things human; or his willingness, in personal argument with common citizens, constantly to push court suit and trial as an enlightened substitute for registered feud; his insistence to push air traffic control as the system countrywide in spite of lordly objections because it made sense, even if it sequenced five and six commoner pilots in line ahead of provincial aijiin and their precious purchased numbers in the landing sequence—it also kept aircraft from crashing into each other and raining destruction on urban Shejidan.
It didn’t, as Banichi had pointed out, describe the aiji’s support among the commons. Elected by the hasdrawad. It was a very enlightening view of why the Western Association was stable. Human scholars called it economic interdependency, and believed the public good and public content propped Tabini’s line in power—which might be the same information; but the economic changes Jago mentioned, bringing real economic power to the trades and the commons—yes, it was the same thing, but it was the atevi side of the looking-glass. And in the concept of man’chi, and atevi electorates—it was an atevi explanation for the peace lasting.
Because the hasdrawad wasn’t about to vote against the interests of the commons. Which the hasdrawad hadn’t seen as congruent with Ilisidi’s passionate opposition to things the hasdrawad wanted, like more gadgets, more trade, more commerce, roads if they could push them, rail if that would move the freight, and to hell with the lords’ game reserves: wildlife didn’t rank with trains as long as wildlife, the only atevi meat supply, was in good supply in general. He’d heard the arguments in Transportation, in Commerce, in Trade … always the push for the big programs. Which no lord wanted if it wasn’t in his district or his interest—or, contrarily, if it infringed his public lands, meaning the estate he used, and on which he hunted, during his seasons of residency.
He was aware of Banichi and Jago sitting opposite him, across the small service table. He was aware of them watching his face for reactions—and he shot Banichi a sudden, invasive stare.
“You can’t have broken the code in this document,” he said to Banichi.
Banichi’s face was completely guarded, not completely expressionless. A brow lifted, and the appraising stare came back at him.
One didn’t pursue the likes of Banichi through thickets of guesswork and try to pin him down. Banichi wouldn’t cooperate with such petty games.
One went, instead, straight ahead.
“You know this is from Hanks to Mospheira. And you know who she’s with and what they’ll have told her.”
“One can certainly make a fair surmise.”
“Hence what you just told me. About the election. About the hasdrawad.”
“Bren-paidhi, what Tabini-aiji asked us to tell you. Yes.”
“Meaning a handful of lords want to restore their rights at the expense of the commons.”
“One could hold that, yes. And, yes, if that is Hanks reporting to Mospheira, and the persons who have her have let her do this, and she’s done it willingly
, one does rather well believe that she’s at least convinced them she believes them. I take it the report she’s made supports their view.”
“You take it correctly. She has the opportunity, I’ll be frank, to use words that would negate everything she says even if they did have a translator standing over her shoulder. There’s no linguistic evidence an ateva dictated it word by word, and I’m not pleased with the content.”
“I should have shot this woman,” Jago muttered, “on the subway platform, I would have saved the aiji and the Association a great deal of bother.”
“I’ve a question,” Bren said, and with their attention: “Ilisidi—has always—to me—supported preservation of the environment, preservation of the culture. Not preservation of privilege.”
“But,” Jago said, “one must be a lord to assure the preservation of the fortresses, the land holdings, the reserves. A lord on his own can knock down ancient fortifications, rip up forest—it belongs to him. No association of mere citizens can stop him. And no decree of the hasdrawad can dispossess the lords. The tashrid can veto, with a sufficient majority.”
The airport at Wigairiin, he thought. The fourteenth-century fortifications. Knocked down for a runway.
For a lord’s private plane. The lord’s ancestors built the fortress. The lord inheriting it knocked the wall down, the tourists and posterity be damned.
“Do brickmasons and clericals on holiday … ever tour Wigairiin?” he asked—clearly perplexing Banichi and Jago.
“One doesn’t think so,” Jago said. “But I could find out this information, if there’s some urgency to it.”
“Nothing so urgent. One just notes—that such ordinary people do tour Malguri. With the dowager in residence. Whose doing is that?”
“Ultimately,” Banichi said, “Tabini’s.”
“But Ilisidi has made no move to prevent it.”
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