“The city will be wild tomorrow night,” Jago said, “once that news is run out.”

“An excitement that would tax resources at the best of times,” Banichi said. “Bren-ji, we have kept this as quiet as possible—but the Guild had a choice last night, when the new leadership seized control of communications. We could continue the old communication system—which could expose our operations to the remnant we are hunting. We could shut the system down entirely. We could continue to use it but redefine the signals for a given few, which could create dangerous confusion. Or we could go ahead with technical changes, which would lock everybody but a chosen few out of the system entirely. The Council opted for the latter, which will deny access to any units not specifically cleared, until they can be approved into the system.”

“We cannot reach the Guild?”

“We can. We, that is to say we four, the dowager’s units, those assigned to the aiji, and those assigned to Lord Tatiseigi, will all be cleared into the system from the beginning. This includes the aiji’s under-classified personal guard; Guild Headquarters, and units that it puts in place in and out of the Bujavid. We have argued to have the young gentleman’s bodyguard put onto the system, but thus far we have not moved the Council on that matter, since the Council is still reviewing records and has not cleared them. It is solely on our recommendation and Cenedi’s that the Council has not removed that unit from the young gentleman’s premises because of the date of their assignment. We will be able to use our equipment through the change, but we are noticing small interruptions. We were warned of this. We are assured there will be no interruptions from tomorrow afternoon, but we count that an optimistic assurance. Reliable Guild assets are moving into position right now, but, in the same security considerations, we are not informed in all cases where, or in protection of what.”

The paidhi-aiji was supposed to stay out of Guild affairs. The resolution of his non-involvement had held, what? Less than a day.

“The Guild, however, does not yet know the aiji’s intention for the event,” Bren said.

“No,” Algini said. “They do not. And this is not information I would gladly commit to the network at the moment.”

“One of us,” Banichi said, “needs to make another journey down to headquarters, before the crowds make van traffic impossible.”

“One hopes they have the headquarters doors back up,” Algini said. “They will have to reduce building security and reactivate numerous units to take duty in the streets, one assumes, without full communications resources.”

“Will you go?” Banichi asked him.

“Surely you will not,” Algini said. “And Cenedi has already made one such trip today.” Algini rose from his chair and reached for his uniform jacket. “Baji-naji, I should be back in an hour or so. I shall inform Cenedi on my way.”

“Take four from Cenedi,” Banichi said. “Better this floor be short five guards than have you approaching Headquarters alone. And ask them again to put the young gentleman’s bodyguard into the network. Name them again those of the Bujavid guard in whom we have confidence. Tell them— I leave it to you what to tell them. Convince them if you can.”

“Yes,” Algini said, agreeing, buckled on his sidearm, zipped his jacket, and left.

At least, Bren thought, the kabiuteri and the ’counters had been discreet enough that the dowager’s network hadn’t picked it up—a testament to the historic integrity of those individuals.

The Bujavid printing office, too, which also prided itself on discretion, had to have gotten its orders now, at least as far as the director, who at least would have cleared the presses to run. The cards to be handed out to the public, as well as the special run for the attendees at the event, would likely be in process within the hour, boxed, and kept in tight security until the official release . . . in the Audience Hall, and on the steps. Such public distributions were limited usually to thirty thousand of the first issue, and while atevi crowds understood the principle of keeping an orderly line, the distribution of cards could not be without Guild presence in force.

Unfortunately, at the moment, Guild presence in force had some problems.

“I had best leave you to your concerns,” Bren said quietly. “I have no needs at the moment. Jase-aiji is in his room and I am answering correspondence. I shall need nothing today that I foresee, unless the dowager sends for me. I shall ask Jase-aiji to check on the children.”

 · · ·

He went back to his office, hoping Algini managed a quick passage, and hoping Algini had picked up a unit from the dowager’s household.

Traffic would be picking up down at the foot of the hill. The long-awaited Festivity being tomorrow, the streets down in the hotel district would be filling up with booths. By evening, as the crowds grew, anticipating tomorrow, the smaller streets would become absolutely impassable to van traffic. That meant those wealthy sorts accustomed to the luxury of the finer hotels and their ready transportation were going to have to use the common rail or go on foot to their destinations.

It would not likely be as crowded as at the seasonal celebrations, but short notice or not, people rarely lost the chance for a holiday, and would to go to the largest town or city they could manage—to Shejidan itself if they were near enough. Certainly the whole city population would be involved in the event. Little eateries and open-air pubs would be busy around the clock. The usual number of individuals would imbibe too much, perhaps spend too much, and definitely eat too much, having a splendid time along the way. Musicians would have country dances chaining through amiable crowds—

Or at least that was the sort of atmosphere one hoped would prevail, given the recent goings-on. Number-readers and ’counters real or self-proclaimed would solicit coins at one-legged wandering booths shaded by the black and gold umbrellas of their trade—apt to be a brisker business than usual, given the rumors bound to be circulating in the drinking establishments. Entertainers were not so formal—they’d take the coins that came their way either in a bowl or a bag, as they circulated through the prospective audience. There’d be drink, food, excess before the small hours of the morning . . . likely a little broken pottery, a few canopies knocked askew . . .

He had never, himself, ventured down into the press. He had the security of the Bujavid. In a year when he had felt competent to navigate the events—security had become far too precarious. But he had been as far as the Bujavid’s upper steps, and seen the banners and the press below.

And the colors. Festival clothing observed heraldic colors only for the lords and their households. For everybody else it was a display of only occasional political significance. The lords of provinces and associations would have their tents going up out on the northeastern shoulder of the Bujavid hill, and outward, in an ancient precedence of place. Clans major and minor would be flying their flags there and representing their clan, offering services to any of their own who might need them—impromptu Contract marriages were not unknown, sometimes repented with sobriety.

And the tents offered shelter to clan lords, lost children, and others who might want to take a break from the noisy goings-on in the streets without braving the crowds on the way to the hotels.

Najida was entitled to a tent. He had not provided one—and he should. He was resolved to do it, and to provide transport for Najida folk who wanted to come so far, and for staff of his who wanted to go down: they so deserved that benefit—granted security improved. In a public Festivity, the lords actually resident in the Bujavid would not likely be braving the press of bodies down in the hotel district; but those seasonally resident in the hotel district might well take a night in the tents—the noise on the esplanade was not conducive to sleep. It was ordinarily one night of moderate rowdiness, a second of mild madness and a great deal of food and drink . . . utterly, utterly out of the question, but he conceived the oddest longing to go down there himself—granted his bodyguard ever approved.