Destroyer

“You’re that sure they’ll rally.”

“If they don’t, for that, they never would. And I believe they will, so long as they’re alive and have resources. They’ll be there.”

“It’s the best chance for our situation,” Sabin said. “If you can reestablish relations with the atevi government—stabilize their situation—maybe get a new government installed, one that’s pro-space—get supply moving up here. Do you have a plan?”

Back to that nasty question. “As you say, captain. We stabilize the situation for starters. Vindicate Tabini-aiji. Vindicate him, even if he’s dead. It’ll make a difference in the shade and shape of any government that follows him. Beyond that—I can’t guarantee the outcome.”

“The boy?” Sabin asked. “The heir? Or the dowager?”

“Cajeiri might succeed. He’s Ragi, like his father. With the dowager as regent. Although the hasdrawad, their house of lords, has refused her claim before—frankly they were afraid of her in those days, because she was too closely tied to the eastern provinces. That perception of her had somewhat changed in recent years… but I don’t know where her province has taken its stand in this current situation. So I don’t know which the hasdrawad would choose—a regency, with Ilisidi behind the scenes, or a strong government, with Ilisidi in power, with Cajeiri still as heir-apparent.”

“Still, all our eggs in one basket, taking them down there. I know, I know, everything’s what she decides. But if he were up here, with Lord Geigi… ”

“Geigi’s Maschi, ruling an Edi population.” And at Sabin’s unenlightened stare: “He’s not Ragi. We absolutely can’t afford the perception of the boy under any influence but his own family’s. We can’t have him viewed as a puppet for Lord Geigi, or, God forbid, for human rule.”

“God,” Sabin muttered. “All right. All right. We go with it.”

“Best we can do is work fast,” he said. “If we get down in one piece, we’ll still have to reconstitute the maintenance facilities for the shuttles and locate all the perso

“Agreed,” Ogun said. “And that is what we pla

Sabin tapped a stylus on the table and frowned. “As it happens,” Sabin said, “your Lord Geigi’s called up the shuttle crew all on his own, and the dowager’s already shifting baggage and perso

Could he claim he was surprised, either at the blinding rapidity of events or by the fact humans knew everything Geigi did? “Then I’m asking your support,” he said. “The station’s technical support for the operation. And for whatever follows. We may need to call on you, maybe even for a limited strike from orbit. It’s nothing I want to think of, but it could become necessary.”

“You’ll have it,” Sabin said. Ogun, for his part, nodded. Of Jase, there was no doubt at all.

“Well, then I’d better go catch my shuttle,” he said, with this time a glance at Jase, who’d not said a word—who gave him a direct and worried look now as he stood up to leave, as the senior captains rose. To them all, Bren gave a little bow, the atevi courtesy. But he paused for a second look at Jase, who edged around the table to intercept him—didn’t say a thing, just looked at him, and he looked at Jase, the one of the captains who’d go down to the planet with him in a heartbeat.

But Jase couldn’t do that. He’d gone back to space, accepted duty aboard Phoenix, and severed himself from Tabini’s court. Jase couldn’t be half the help to him on the planet that he could be up here serving as bridge and go-between.

“You know the things they need to know,” Bren said. “Translate for me. Make them understand.”

“I can do that.”

“If anything should happen—”

“I’ll work closely with Lord Geigi, in that event,” Jase said, with no silly demur that nothing would possibly happen. “And with Yolanda.”

Discounting all the history in that relationship.

He embraced Jase, patted him on the shoulder. They’d been through everything together. It was harder to part now than ever before.

“You’re not even going to get a night in your own bed,” Jase said.

“Luxuries go by the board, I’m afraid. I’ll send up tea and fruit candy and canisters of all sorts of things, first I get the shuttles flying.”

“Waiting with bated breath,” Jase said. “Good luck. Good luck, Bren.”

Neither language seemed apt to what he wanted to say at the moment. And there was nothing either of them could do but part company and go out their separate doors.

He left with Banichi and Jago, Jago going first outside the door, Banichi behind him, the old, carefully measured steps that were by now completely automatic. The human guards outside, knowing them, were unruffled by their ways.

“So we are boarding?” he asked them as they walked on.

“Imminently,” Banichi said.

“Your staff is prepared,” Jago said, “and Tano and Algini request to come down with us. So do Bindanda and Narani.”

He thought about it a pace or two along the hallway. About Tano and Algini he had no question: those two were, like Banichi, like Jago, like Cenedi and Ilisidi’s other bodyguards, members of the Assassins’ Guild, partners, in sets, like most others.

But Narani and Bindanda, though members of that Guild, too, were no longer young. They were well suited to the warfare of the court, but not to ru

“What would you advise, nadiin-ji?”

“Tano and Algini would be helpful to us,” Banichi said. “Narani and Bindanda would be extremely valuable to Jase-aiji.”

“And they will not thank us for saying so,” said Jago, “but our venture onto the continent will be no holiday in the country, Bren-ji. If we could leave you on the Island, and plead a Filing on Murini and his supporters without you, we would.”

The legalities of the situation came home to him. One did not simply decide to attack an atevi of any high rank. “We should File Intent on him, shouldn’t we?”

“If one can manage to get a signed letter to the mainland,” Banichi said dryly. “We shall certainly attend the matter, Bren-ji. You only need fix your signature and seal to the document.”

“My seal.” It was on his finger. He hadn’t used it in two years, except to sign notes back and forth with the dowager. Di

“One believes the dowager and Cenedi will be well before us in any Filing, nonetheless.”

“We do need to send a letter.” The ordinary details of atevi life flooded back into memory, the rules, the procedures. “But if we’re asking a hearing, do we not automatically have protection in reaching the Guild?” If one Filed Intent, meaning an official filing of intent to assassinate, for personal or public reasons, another individual, the paper must go before the Assassins’ Guild to be debated—a proceeding much like a court of law, with arguments pro and con largely coming from other members of that Guild, members in service to various houses, as well as those at large. Not infrequently it entailed an appearance before the Guild Assembly, separately, by the principals in the dispute. He recalled a provision for protection for persons summoned, or for persons attempting to File, that they could not be struck down on Guild grounds.

But that prohibition certainly left a lot of the continent under no such protection.

“Certain people may not observe the niceties, Bren-ji,” Jago said. “The Guild president is dead, so Lord Geigi’s people say. One doubts that assassination was easily accomplished, or without repercussions.”