Intruder

The shuttle was on its way in, and meeting it required a train trip, a very pleasant trip in the closed quiet of the aiji’s red-upholstered private car, on loan again.

Meanwhile, the Guild reportedly had the Taisigi representative’s premises in ordercmeaning, of course, all the bugs were politely tucked in and well-concealed. Banichi and Jago professed themselves satisfied by the report they had from Tano and Algini, so one could take that arrival as going well. The clerical office had sent the flowers for the lady.

And for the rest, it was a smooth trip on rail out to the far side of the airport, until the train drew up to wait on a siding within view of the shuttle landing strip.

They had not long to wait. A call from ground operations advised them that the shuttle was now visible on approach.

One’s heart beat a little faster. Definitely. Even after a trip on a starship, these landings at the mercy of a planet’s unforgiving mass, involving so much support, involving weather, involving very high-velocity machinery, never became entirely routine. He got up and walked to the open side door to watch—he had on the bulletproof vest, as he had promised, a better-proportioned version and not so uncomfortable as the makeshift one. He stood in the light of a setting sun and spied the shimmering speck that was the shuttle. He watched it grow larger and more solid. He had landed on that very shuttle, and he knew everything going on in the passenger section, people taking last-moment account of any stray items. When the shuttle braked, it braked.

Wheels touched. The nose came down elegantly, and it slowed and braked, using up a scary lot of the runway.

Now it was simply a matter of waiting while the support vehicles moved in, while the exterior cooled a bit, and the safety crew had a go at the craft.

Inside, the passengers would be shifting about, gathering up their hand luggage, and the shuttle crew would be putting the shuttle into a safe condition for its two weeks or so of servicing and checks and refueling—the normal schedule for any shuttle on the ground.

Well, the show was over. Now it was all waiting. Bren returned to his seat as Banichi and Jago shut the door. They shared a little tea, it being close to suppertime, while Jago kept an ear to ground operations and Banichi kept track of events downtown in Shejidan.

“The Marid representative has reached her apartment, Bren-ji,” Banichi reported, “and Tano and Algini have met the lady, who expresses gratitude. She is quite pleased with the apartment and office and is particularly pleased to find an excellent and approved restaurant across the street, which is arranged to provide menus and deliver to her premises.”

“Excellent,” he said. He was entirely relieved. Two things were going well at once. Unprecedented.

He sat and sipped tea, while Jago followed post-flight operations. At last she advised them that the shuttle doors were opening and that a bus had been dispatched to convey the passengers and their baggage directly to the train, customs waiving an inspection on executive privilege.

Bren gave it a few minutes more, and when Jago reported that the bus was well on its way to the siding, he got up, set his own teacup in a safe enclosure at the back of the galley counter, and went back to the door with Banichi and Jago.

The modest spaceport bus came purring up alongside, next to a low ditch and blooming water flower. It stopped and opened its door, lowering its steps with a pneumatic hiss.

Out first came a young man: young Casichi, one of Narani’s many nephews, and then, white-haired and moving slowly with the young man’s help, Narani himself, who looked up with a wide grin.

Immediately after Narani came the portly and distinguished Bindanda. Then—was that Asicho, or Sabiso? Asicho, Bren decided, the excellent young woman who, with Sabiso, had attended Jago’s needs in their very male household aboard ship—the two were partners and cousins, as alike as sisters; Sabiso was right behind her.

And Jeladi! Jeladi, his sometime valet, who had been their man-of-all-work aboard ship, who now would assist Narani at the door and with the accounts.

Then came Kandara, and Palaidi, and Junaricall, all welcome and happy faces, men who had been on a grand adventure and now might have—finally—a chance to visit their homes in Najida village.

Bren descended a step. But Jago put a hand on his shoulder.

“Narani will need assistance, nadiin-ji,” he protested.

“Then you must stay here, nand’ paidhi,” Jago said firmly and primly, “freeing your bodyguard to do that service.”

Wherewith, she easily skipped to the ground as the senior company from the bus made their way toward the train. The younger members of the company had started offloading their bulkier stored baggage, a great deal of it, from the bus.

There would be gifts for family, all ma

Narani reached the bus. And with these people, hang back as he must, Bren had no solemn formality at all. He offered Narani his hand for assistance up the last step, took a good grip on the door frame and assisted Bindanda—who had not lost any of his girth—and one after the other of the others. Banichi and Jago arrived hindmost, shepherding the baggage handling, and they and the younger folk heaved their loads up into the car in a happy and noisy chaos. Atevi on public occasions showed very little emotion, all stiff formality, but there was none of that reserve in this moment: everyone fairly beamed with happiness, even Bindanda, and most of all gentle Narani. Hugs were out of the question. There were simply deep bows, repeated deep bows, and very, very happy staff, while baggage was shifted and people found seats.

“Nandi,” Narani said more than once, “you do us very great honor. One by no means expected the paidhi-aiji to come in person.”

“I would have walked here barefoot to see you, Rani-ji, and you, Danda-ji, and all of you, and you know it! Welcome back! Welcome home! We have made our bestefforts to put things in order in the apartment, as best we could, with the help of some young folk from Najida, and a young cook, Danda-ji, who is terrified of meeting you and so much hopes to have your good opinion. And by no means shall any of you delay meeting family. If any of you— anyof you—have urgent need to visit your own houses for any reason, nadiin-ji, we shall make every effort to get you there and back again; and you all, in precedence of service, may have a week in Najida, at your pleasure and my expense. Nadiin-ji! One is so very, very gladto see your faces again!”

There were more bows. Protestations that none of them, not one! would leave until the household was in good order.

“You all resume your rank and your duties,” he said, “except, Jeladi—”

“Nandi!”

“You know your circumstances, that you will assist Narani-nadi!”

“Yes, nandi!”

“One has the greatest confidence, nadi! Sit, be at ease. We have every sort of beverage and fruit juice. But mind, mind, we shall have pizza on our return to the Bujavid, and you must arrive in good appetite!”

That roused a cheer. Fruit juice was the overwhelming favorite choice, and the youngest took over service. They had at least two rounds before the train began the careful climb up to the Bujavid train station.

From there it became a traveling celebration, a laughable effort trying to get all the baggage into the baggage office, and arranging to transport it themselves.

Upstairs, then, in more than one elevator load, their advance guard reached the front door—where Supani and Koharu met them. Koharu with some little ceremony turned over the keys to Narani right from the start. “An honor to do so, nadi,” Koharu said graciously, and with that, Narani resumed the post that was his.