Intruder

Dur had landed. Ajuri was due in, but for the aiji’s apartment, not the event, and with extraordinarily bad timing for events in that household.

He slipped on the vest and held out his arm for Supani to fasten it.

“They are shouting,” Antaro reported, her ear against the door. “One ca

Antaro set her back to the door, saying things had quieted. But with what outcome Antaro could not say.

A time passed.

And he was very glad Grandfather had not arrived yet, and he was sure now the signing downstairs must be getting organized, so at least mani would not come bursting into it.

For a long time it was quiet. Then steps, lighter as well as heavier, sounded in the hall, and seemed to go off to the sitting room.

But if his parents had gone to the sitting room, it might be to have tea and to sit for a moment. And talk.

That could be good. Or not.

He decided he should clean up. He had a complete change of clothes, with Jegari to help him, and had his queue redone, smart and smooth and pulled tight, with a new red ribbon, and he had his almost-best coat, to give his best impression if they called him. It was not just of defense of Boji. It was defense of him. Of his whole aishid.

It was court dress to the nth degree; the flash of jewelry on Bren’s person was limited to a single pin, but Geigi turned out with an impressive flash of jewelry, most of it diamonds, which had traveled with him, brought down to the world for any chance state occasion.

It was the paidhi’s business to be in the reception hall before Lord Machigi, and Machigi before the dowager—the same order of things as at any formal di

Getting there, however, was not without obstacles. The whole main hall was filled with onlookers—lords with their own bodyguards, other Guild officials, even Bujavid staff. Bujavid security kept the hall where the lifts were located completely controlled, and at the turn to the left, toward the great doors and the display cases, they had established a line along the wall and displays, keeping spectators back. News cameras were there, a knot of them, and another nearer the reception doorway.

“The paidhi-aiji!” the shout went up, and “Lord Geigi,” the rumor went through the crowd; the years spent in space had made Geigi less recognized among lords, and a rare sight for the Bujavid. There were Bujavid staff in the crowd, lesser officials, and just the general public and tourists, who tended to show up for the spectacle when there was anything afoot on the hill; if one was in town, and there was some pageantry accessible to the public (and the lower hall of the Bujavid was,) the public came, dressed in their best, and partaking of whatever commemorative cards and ribbons the Bujavid might be passing out for the occasion.

On the left, the Lesser Hall doors stood open, and the guards there, armed, let them and their bodyguards into a more organized sort of crowd, glittering lords and ladies in their household colors, all milling about in the pre-event social, a rainbow interspersed with the black and silver of bodyguards in great evidence. Chairs were at some remove, near the walls. There were three tables set up at the head of the hall, for the signing, and at the side of the hall long tables with offerings of flowers and piles of refreshments.

One of course toured the floral arrangements, parsing them for origin and meaning, and they were always set out, with the exception of sponsoring parties, in order of receipt, so being first mattered. The arrangements all looked thoughtful and fortunate, and one trusted they wereproperly fortunate: that was the province of the kabiu masters.

One read Prosperity frequently and prominently in the flower choice. One read Peace. That was good. One read Welcome, and one brave Offense Forgiven on the part of the Oturi, south of Sheijidan; the kabiu masters of the Bujavid had let that one in, but anything of greater controversy would not have made it. The next one read New Things. And Good Fortune and Auspicious Skies.

One refused a cup of fruit drink. One wanted no accidents, either of spills or of poisoning. The occasion was, for the paidhi and all his staff, pure business.

But not without pleasure. “Nandi!” he heard near him. Adigan, elder lord of Dur was there, and the new lord of the Maschi, with their respective bodyguards; and young Dur was there as well, gri

“Lord Machigi is on his way to the train station, nandi,” Banichi advised him.

Immediately after there were polite greetings for them both from the legislators of the Commerce Committee, who were very glad to have a word with Lord Geigi, in his capacity as representing space industry, and the members of the Library and Records division offered polite felicitations. Behind them, a traveling backdrop, were the official secretaries of that department and their assistants; and there was a very discreet television presence—one did not miss that. The event was not going out live, but it would be out with a half-hour time delay and be done before the west of the continent went to bed this evening, and sent to the East by radio.

One sat, in one’s almost-best coat; one even attempted to do one’s homework—anything to make the time pass—but one had no concentration on it, however one tried, with ears pricked for any sound at all from the rest of the house, the coming and going of servants, the heavier tread of bodyguards, the opening and closing of doors.

Boji, exhausted, had had his egg and curled into a furry knot on his perch. Boji was the only one who had had supper.

And Cajeiri was hungry, but he had no appetite. He supposed everybody was in the same state. His bodyguard were all sitting at the little table, Antaro and Jegari playing chess and Lucasi and Veijico giving advice to them. But he was sure they were all listening for what they could learn.

It grew quiet. It stayed quiet for a while. He looked at the clock on the shelf, and he was sure mani and nand’ Bren and everybody had gone down to the signing by now, so he was really all alone up here, whatever happened.

And it still was not good, outside. He was sure it was not. Hardly anybody was stirring, just occasionally a servant going past on some errand, but very, very seldom. When staff got quiet, things were bad.

Once he had heard his mother’s voice. And not since. At least he had not heard his father shouting.

All the rules could change. He could be sent here or there, or forbidden this and that, because everybody in the world had a theory on how he ought to be brought up.

At least Grandfather had not shown up in the middle of everything, and that was good. He told himself he just had to be quiet while his father settled things, if they could be settled, and if he had a punishment, he could hope it was just a talk, and maybe a sort of an apology to his mother. He could do that. He was sorry to have upset her, and he was sorry about the baby things.

He was thinking that when Lucasi said, suddenly, pressing a finger to his ear: “Nandi, we are back in link again. Your mother’s staff is dismissed from the Bujavid. They are being sent back to Ajuri. Tonight. This instant. They will leave from the servants’ quarters. They are not being allowed back on this floor.”

His heart began to beat very fast. He hardly knew what to think.

“And my mother?”

“There is no word, nandi.”

He nodded and sat there a moment, not knowing what to do with himself, or what he had touched off, or what he even felt, if it turned out his mother was moving out.

Maybe his father had ordered her to go home, with the new baby about to be born and all. He was not sure what he thought about his sister being born in Ajuri. He was not sure he wanted that.