Tell them they were all going to be prosperous up in space? Or as a result of others going into space?

They weren’t going to understand that. They wouldn’t believe the Ragi would give them an equal chance at anything.

Tell them they were going to give up on conquering the west coast and accept an alliance with the hated north?

That wasn’t going to be an easy sell, either.

Then there was the old quarrel with the west coast Edi, an ethnic group who had been moved onto that coast many, many decades ago, at the very founding of the aishidi’tat. The Marid had been claiming the west coast—and the Ragi, the ruling clan of the aishidi’tat, had high-handedly moved Edi refugees in and given the west coast to them—fierce fighters and absolutely determined on their own independence. The Edi themselves were allied to the Gan, another displaced ethnic group to the north, who would involve themselves inside the hour if things blew up. And the Edi in particular had been the target of Marid reprisals, and there was exceedingly bad blood there.

Tell these fishermen and merchants the Edi, already entrenched in Najida Peninsula, were going to gain a lordship in the aishidi’tat and be voting, thanks to the other part of the aiji-dowager’s personal agenda? The whole Marid was going to have a fit when they found that out.

What in hell could he offer Machigi to induce him to let thatslide by unchallenged?

What was in Machigi’s interest?

Power.

Survival.

Pleasing those fishermen.

Underlying issues. Poverty, perpetual poverty in most of the Marid, poverty locked to traditionalism and a general low level of literacy.

An educational system based on apprenticeship, which didn’t include more than one needed to know to buy and sell or to fish and maintain a boat.

Bloodfeuds two centuries and more old. In some places on the continent the network of allies and shared bloodfeuds was the cement that held communities together.

The whole district, with its internal wars and feuds, had lagged half a century behind the technology of the rest of the aishidi’tat. The district had phones, they had electrification— but not everybody in the country did. Their fairly modern freighters got their fuel from refineries to the north, and the whole region stayed dependent on the north for that resource, while hating them for it.

They had rail, a straight but antique line from the west coast of the Marid to Shejidan, running through Senji and ending at Tanaja. Everything else, absolutely everything else, moved by boat, among clans situated around a common sea.

The dowager, too, came from a staunchly traditionalist region. Over on the east coast wooden boats still went out to fish. Not every great house and not every village in the East had electricity, to this day, and the dowager’s own house had it only as an afterthought—but in that case, it was stubborn traditionalism.

In some ways the dowager’s East had a great number of values in common with the Marid.

In some Eastern districts, by choice, technological development lagged. Distrust of the western Ragi Guilds meant minimal rail and air service, though that was increasing.

Damn, yes, there were lot of similar points.

Get the Marid, the most dedicatedly hostile district in the aishidi’tat, to refrain from ancestral feuds and talk to the aiji-dowager?

He had to be crazy. But there werepoints in common.

Machigi would never agree with the West. But being approached by the East?

There was a shred of hope in that idea.

2

« ^ »

It was at least half an hour before Tano and Algini came back from the phone business, looking unruffled and fairly pleased. “Lord Machigi himself listened in, Bren-ji,” Tano said.

“So we were plainly informed. We asked permission to call Cenedi with your message. We further asked to report that Barb-daja and Veijico are found. That was granted, with a written text to read from. So we did. We expressed to Cenedi-nadi your personal doubt that Lord Machigi’s orders were behind the kidnappings and the illicit explosives and that you wish him to request a suspension of Guild proceedings against Lord Machigi. Cenedi-nadi agreed and we terminated the call on that basis. We also, under the same arrangement, called the head of Tabini-aiji’s security in Shejidan and informed him first that we are here in Tanaja and that negotiations with Lord Machigi are proceeding at the personal urging of the aiji-dowager and under her auspices. We asked him to relay to Tabini-aiji that you request his personal Filing against Lord Machigi be voided on the same grounds. We are assured that message will be conveyed. Both messages have answers pending, and Lord Machigi’s staff will notify us once the answers arrive.”

“Well done,” Bren said with a deep sigh. “Very well done, nadiin-ji. Breakfast is here, should you wish.” As if they hadn’t noticed. Banichi and Jago had just taken up plates, and Barb had declared she would venture it, Veijico having finished her breakfast half an hour ago without dying.

“Yes,” the pair said in near unison, and headed for the buffet.

He had a little fresh toast, himself. He was by now not quite in good appetite, whether from the compression bandage, subliminal pain, or the fact that the job was far from finished with just two phone calls. He had now to produce results with Machigi, personally, and even toast with orangelle preserve did not sit well on his stomach.

Indeed, before he had quite finished his breakfast tea, there came yet another knock at the door. A servant advised the paidhi that Lord Machigi would receive him in half an hour.

So he would get to see Lord Machigi today.

That was good.

He was still forming his notions of what to say.

That wasn’t.

Well, but he had enough bread on his stomach to cushion the pain pills. He had two thoughts that lay in a straight line. He supposed he could be ready.

Damn, he’d so desperately needed time and resources; and Barb and Toby and Veijico and the missing kid, Lucasi, all kept nagging at his mind.

But they were all side issues. They had to be. If he couldn’t work his way through the minefield of Marid relations with the rest of the aishidi’tat in the next hour, at least in some tentative way, they could die, all of them, first strike in a general war.

And he wouldn’t bet he knew how Machigi’s mind worked, not by a long shot.

Well, but he’d wanted a chance to talk to him. He had it.

He went to his bedroom in the few moments left, and sat down for a few private moments, at least, trying to get his domestic worries out of his mental circuits.

He stayed there until a knock on the door announced and Jago’s entry advised him Machigi’s escort had shown up.

“Nandi,” Jago said, all formality now.

“Yes,” he said, and went out to the sitting room, where Banichi and the others waited. The outer door stood open, and two of the local guard were waiting for him. He didn’t look at Barb.

And Barb, who wouldn’t have understood above three words of anything anybody was saying, plaintively asked where he was going.

“Business conference,” he said, still not looking at her, not wanting to make her the focus of a scene in front of the guards, and walked out, Banichi and Jago in close company with him.

***

Machigi elected to receive his guest in a large sitting room, this time with his Minister of Affairs, Gediri, present, along with two other persons, one a plump, bespectacled, middle-aged woman, the other a grim fellow of like age with part of an ear missing. The woman was, Machigi said, Adien, his Minister of Trade and Transport, and the half-eared man was Masitho, his Minister of Information.

There were, necessarily, bows and acknowledgements. Banichi and Jago had taken their places at the door, with eight others of the Guild. Bren personally bet that two of them—