Conspirator

“Fishermen will help us, Bren-ji,” Banichi said calmly.

“Put out a general call. Say: Children from the village. Compensation from the estate.”

Cover story with the right and useful details: Banichi knew exactly why, and got on the radio and put it out that way— village children swept out in a sailboat from the estate dock, the estate to compensate any fishermen who diverted their boats to the search. There were no better searchers, to know the tide, the currents and the coast, but none of them were going to keep up with the yacht on its way outc Jeishan’swas a potent engine, for security reasons, the paidhi’s security, in point of fact.

But it wasn’t helping them. Tano and Algini were out along the rail, braving a bitter wind to scan the wooded shoreline unobstructed by fogged glass and spatter from the spray. They were moving under power, moving fast, with the last of the tide.

There was no guarantee if the youngsters had gotten to shore that they would have had the skill or the strength to get the boat in: it might well have gotten away from them, granted only all of them had gotten off if it did float away. It was not guaranteed that there’d been any signal flare aboard or that the youngsters would know what it was for. It was a simple tender-boat, dock to boat and back again, for carrying supplies, and most everyone that handled it was expert, not tending to get into difficulty that needed such things.

The kids had no idea what they were into. He sincerely hoped they hadn’t tried to swim the current. Cajeiri had never swum in water over his head, though, bet on it, he’d read a book about it; while the other two, Taibeni, inlanders, were probably worse off than Cajeiri. The possibilities were beyond frightening.

“There are rocks above water,” he said, veering off from the coastline and driving close to where he knew such rocks were, right near the mouth of the bay—a miserable perch for anybody, but a lifesaver of more than one fisherman in the history of the estate, as well as the ruin of a couple of boats who hadn’t known they were there at high tide. Tano and Algini came into the cabin for a moment to warm up—Banichi turned the heater on, to the relief of all of them, and even started up a pot of hot tea.

They ran by the first rock, with no sign of the youngsters, and on the way to the second, Bren took a cup of tea, as much for the warmth of the cup as the contents. They reached the second half-submerged reef, with still no sign of the kids—the third rock there was no likelihood the kids could reach with the tide ru

Banichi meanwhile was on the radio, talking to Jago. “Nandi,” Banichi said, “nand’ Toby is on his way. His lady is coming with him.”

“Good,” he said. It wasgood. Barb was many things, but she was an experienced hand with the boat, she had common sense in a crisis she understood, and she knew the sea. “Advise them of our status. Then one regrets to say we must concern the aiji and discreetly advise him of the situation. I would do so personally, and shall, if you will hand me the microphone.”

“Yes,” Banichi said. It wasn’t a call he wanted to make, and there was a certain hazard in a

Then Banichi used ship-to-shore to call the Bujavid operator, and the aiji’s guard—the best route, Bren thought, gazing out over a vast tract of eye-tricking water and rough coastline, and still not a sign of a boat or the youngsters. Banichi used code there, too, and evidently was able to convey what had to be conveyed, because Banichi didn’t hand him the microphone, just talked in short, coded bursts to whoever received the call. At last Banichi closed off the contact, and said:

“The aiji has been informed, nandi. The aiji-dowager is airborne from Shejidan and intends to come in at Dalaigi. It seemed more discreet for me to make the call.”

“The dowager was back in Shejidan?”

“One apprehends that she had stayed there the night, Bren-ji, after the last incident, had resumed her flight to Malguri today and is now turning the plane around a second time, and coming here. They did not give an estimated time, doubtless a security concern.”

“One is by no means sorry to have her assistance,” Bren said. He could only imagine the dowager’s state of mind after twoaborted flights. And he could only imagine Tabini’s state of mind dealing with the dowager and his son’s second disappearance, this time into real danger. But Tabini’s guard were all new men, since the failed coup, the dowager’s were not, and they had worked with Banichi and Jago extensively. Bren was himself very glad to know Ilisidi was bringing in her resourcesc upset as he was to be the cause of the problem. He only hoped they could find the young rascals before she got here and end the day with a phone call to Tabini and the dowager presiding over a family di

The light, meanwhile, hurt the eyes, glancing off the water. The sun was headed down the sky, now, into afternoon, and the far distance was obscured in white haze.

Banichi surrendered the radio to Tano, and went out with Algini to watch the shorelinec but by now certain other boats showed on the northern expanse of water. None of them were the sailboat. They were fishermen from the village and the neighboring district, all spreading themselves out in the bay and sweeping the area they had already crossed, a precaution for which Bren was very grateful.

Tano listened to something on the radio, then said, “Nand’ Baiji is launching his boats and Lord Geigi’s personal yacht, nandi. They are going out to meet the coastal current. Nand’ Baiji is going out personally.”

“Good,” Bren said. That was the most important thing, to get boats into position to catch the youngsters if they had been swept out into that southerly flow—a current strong enough in some seasons that even larger boats had to take notice of it. It was very, very easy to assume one was making progress northerly, unless one had a shoreline for reference.

More than one fishing boat had been lost when that treacherous current met a contrary wind and the waves turned chaotic. And that was not a situation he wanted to contemplate.

The peninsula that divided Najidami Bay from Kajidami Bay, where Kajiminda sat in much the same position as Najida, had a hellish set of rocks at low tide.

“What does the weather report predict?” he asked Tano, and Tano checked and reported.

“A front will arrive by morning, nandi, with southerly winds and overcast, rain in the afternoon.”

Not as bad as could be: winds blowing with the current, not cross-grained, but it would speed the little boat along. And rain and rising wind could swamp a little sailboat, not even mentioning hypothermia.

He wished that the tender had been equipped with a locator. Or a radio. Or—he had to admit it—the detested wireless phone. Any sort of communication. If the youngsters had the presence of mind to use the sun, and a shiny object. Anything.

But there was so much light out there, and his eyes burned with the effort. No sunglasses, no protection, nothing of the like turned up in the bin by the wheel. Damn it all. He wasn’t sure he wanted to come back if he couldn’t find the kidsc didn’t want to face Tabini and Damiri, or the Taibeni kids’ parents. Or the dowager. God knew he’d tried to keep up with the kids. He’d gotten distracted. He’d failed for one miserable hour to post a guard on the kids, even his aishid had been distracted for that hour, under his orders, and they’d just—been kids. The eight-year-old steered the group, the other two didn’t have the fortitude to tell Cajeiri no, or didn’t think they had the authority to fling themselves on him bodily and stop him. Adults had fallen into the same trap with the boy. A long string of adults.