Conspirator

Algini picked up his sidearm as he moved, and they all five went out together. Ramaso was waiting anxiously at the door.

“The young gentleman has eluded us,” he said equably to Ramaso, “but is probably at the boat. This is nothing new. Are we provisioned?”

“Yes, nandi, provisioned last night, and ready to sail. Only the boat is not at the dock.”

“We shall manage. We shall go straight down, bring the boat in, and likely shall sail out immediately. If nand’ Toby asks questions or seems upset, say the name of my boat, and that should advise him where we are. He knows a very little Ragi. Barb-daja likely knows none but the word yes, and the word no. Use either, as you wish with her. Address yourself to nand’ Toby, who is much more reasonable, and should he wish to go to the airport and fly to the mainland, assist him. I will pay the ticket.”

“Nandi.” The servant who had slipped in behind Ramaso had gotten Bren’s outdoor coat from the closet and offered it. Bren exchanged coats, then with a parting courtesy to the old man, took Algini and left, calmly, in good order, and leaving the troubles of the day behind him.

Left them, that was, until he saw Tano sprinting back up the terraced walk toward them, out of breath by the time he reached them, and needing to bend to breathe.

“Nandi,” Tano said. “There is no sign of the youngsters and the boat is gone.”

“ Myboat?”

“The tender, nandi, that the staff uses. The boat was dragged out—marks are clear in the sand.”

His thoughts leapt all over the place—the youngsters had gotten to his boat, or Toby’s, let the little sailboat drift away, which could happen—an inconvenience. They might lose it, or it could be battered against rocks along some segment of the shore in the coming weather.

But there were much, much worse ideas.

“Is there another boat, nadi-ji? Can we signal my boat?”

“Jago has swum out to your boat, nandi, to bring it in to dock.”

God, the water would be cold as ice. He started down, taking the atevi-sized terraces with bone-jarring steps, and ran, as Algini and Tano ran behind him. He was almost in as bad shape on the downhill as Tano had been on the uphill by the time he reached the dock at the last, and had a view of Banichi standing out on the sand, looking out toward the water.

He ran down the steps from the dock, ran across the shingle out to where Banichi stood, Tano and Algini right with him.

Banichi looked in his direction.

“Is she aboard, Banichi-ji?” Jeishanhad a stern ladder, so it was possible for Jago to get aboard. He was relieved when Banichi said, “Yes, nandi.” And a moment later he saw the slight puff of smoke above the water as the engine started. The bow power winch went into action, hauling one anchor cable up. Then the other started up, and hauled away.

It was bad news. If the youngsters had been aboard, Jago would just have gone to the rail and signaled. Taking in cable took forever. He stood in the chill wind, waiting, watching as Jeishanbegan slowly to move, her anchors still drippingc not back to the dock—but over within hail of the Brighter Days.

He waited, shivering in the wind, and waited. He heard the loudspeaker clear to the dockside, as Jago queried whether anybody was aboard.

No answer. Nobody came to the rail of that boat. And the last of the tide was moving, rocks standing bare that at high tide were well-submerged along the margin, with far more beach than showed at high tide. Bren’s gaze drifted to the mouth of the bay, all that vast wooded shoreline, where, one could still hope, three youngsters, having realized they were no match for the tide, might have turned back to shore and gotten stranded. Not a one of them had ever handled a sailboat. But all they had to do was let the wind blow them straight across. There were fishing docks across the bay. There were boats out. They could get help.

They might be, even now, hiking to some phone where they could call.

Please God they were safe ashore, just stranded by a contrary wind.

“Nadiin-ji,” he said to the three with him, “can one of you call the house and tell them to ask the village constable to go along the shore on the far side?” They were skittish and wary youngsters, not prone to trust strangers whose man’chi might be in doubt. They would rather try to walk home, but that was a day’s rough hike, just to get to the curve of the bay, let alone clear to Najida.

That was the good supposition. If, on the other hand, they had gotten beyond the mouth of the bay, if they had gotten swept well out, the current off the point bent southerly.

“And phone Kajiminda: tell our neighbor what has happened, and ask Lord Baiji to put out boats to search, in case they have been swept out to sea. Say we have a boat with children swept out into the bay. Tell them we need help.”

He had to call Shejidan. He had to admit to Tabini that he had allowed a catastrophe. They had a radio on the boat, and Jago had it underway again, using the engine to bring it back to the dock. He had his coat, his aishid was equipped, the boat was outfitted for their fishing trip, and that meant entirely—food, blankets, everything they needed for a search.

He stood watching as the boat came closer, and listening as Banichi, on com, spoke to Ramaso up at the house, advising him what had happened, passing orders in rapid succession. He said to Banichi: “Tell Ramaso to tell my brother we have an emergency. Tell him get his boat out. Fast. Meanwhile can you find out if there were any life vests in that tender?”

Banichi nodded, while talking and listening. On the life vests, it was thought, up at the house, that there were two.

Two. Marvelous.

Meanwhile Jago was nosing Jeishanin to dock, ru

Bren jumped for the deck and headed for the bridge, heard thumps behind him as Tano and Algini came aboard, then Banichi. He didn’t even look back, except to take a glance out forward and find his course clear. He didn’t want to take the time for Jago to get the Brighter Daysinto dock, but none of his aishid were experienced seamen, and it was worth it, if Toby’s expertise gave them an expertly-captained second boat to travel line-of-sight and try to figure the currents and where, at the moment, that little sailboat might have gone.

“Jago-ji,” he said as he joined her on the bridge, Jago in nothing but her underwear and a sopping wet tee. “Go aboard Toby’s boat and get it to the dock—wait for him. You can communicate with him. Call the house and have them send down spare dry clothes.” Banichi had come in, meanwhile, carrying Jago’s jacket and other clothes, and she declined to put it around her shoulders.

“Yes,” she said plainly, to his order, and grabbed her clothes and gear up and went outside in the cold wind, wet and half-naked. They were free of the dock, the lines taken in almost as soon as they had pulled into shore, and Bren throttled up, heading for the Brighter Daysand maneuvering to avoid her anchor cables. Jago went around to the starboard bow, ready to move across.

He came in close, very close, backed the engine, and gave Jago as steady a platform as he could—no need. Jago made an easy jump, was on, her clothes and gear tucked under one arm, and on her way to the bridge, where, presumably, Toby had left the ignition keyc

But messages would get Toby down there, and if Toby had the key with him, somebody would have to swim it—likely Jago—one more time. He couldn’t wait. He’d given Toby someone who could communicate on radio, somebody with Guild authority. He throttled up and took out toward the southern shore of the bay, confident that Jago would do what was logical and getToby out on the search.