There was a moment of silence.

“There are rather heavier weapons in their hands than armor-piercing rounds, Bren-ji,” Jago said. “And we may well meet them.”

“Is that more danger to us than a Shadow Guild campaign, violating every rule—while wehave to obey the law? I am not happy with the notion of explosives being brought to villages, and I am not willing to see people of the dowager’s man’chi and mine take every precaution to observe a law these people freely disregard in their attacks. The Kadagidi have a history of raising claims about theirrights. But we have them on failure to File, we have them in the two Dojisigi, who can give the lie to any claim of innocence Kadagidi clan wants to make. If they fire first, with them already under a ban, Tabini-aiji has justification to remove Aseida as lord, with any force it takes. The Shadow Guild has been constantly shifting targets, in this region and that, striking and departing, doing damage as they please. But Kadagidi is a fixed asset. We have them pinned down. And I do not intend to see anyof our people observing Guild rules while the other side breaks them. We have the dowager to protect, and these foreign guests to protect. Jase-aiji has every right to use the defenses hehas, and those run all the way to the station.”

There was a moment of silence, two guarded, worried looks. Then Banichi said: “And what will you answer if they accept a conference and Lord Aseida invites you and Jase inside?”

“I should then ask my aishid what I should answer, and I doubt you would advise that, in a household under the aiji’s ban.”

“They may simply bar the door,” Jago said.

“Frightening them is surely worth something. And meanwhile we have them pinned down, we can interdict anyone who comes outof that house, and Lord Geigi candrop something on their land, with a great deal of precision.”

“Bren-ji,” Banichi said, “your resolution never to advise your bodyguard is in serious breach.”

“Then advise me. I shall certainly hear advice. But I cannot lose you. And the dowager cannot lose Nawari. You—and Cenedi’s team— youhave more importance than I do, when it comes to a fight inside the Guild. You know the names and histories of these people. You have accesses nobody else does. You are notexpendable and I am, comparatively, in this part of the fight. If it requires a readjustment in your man’chi—make it. We cannot risk you, and I do not countenance Cenedi risking Nawari, either. He is doingthis because he needs you, and he is staying meticulously within the law—but I do not agree he should. We should go in there prepared to deal damage, and Jase and I should make the approach, because our status gives youthe right to take them on without a Filing on our side, if they compound their offense with one bullet headed our direction. If there is any legal question—any political question that follows this—then that is myexpertise, nadiin-ji, and I will defend this decision. I would look forward to dealing with anycounterclaim this old man in the Guild or his allies can make.”

There was a long silence. “We shall have to talk to Cenedi,” Banichi said, “and advise Tano and Algini. Not to mention the dowager herself. Speed in this is advisable. We do not know whennews from the south may reach Guild Headquarters. —Jago.”

“Yes,” Jago said, got up, and headed for the door.

Banichi also left. Theyhad things to arrange. Cenedi to consult.

He, meanwhile, had to talk to Jase—urgently.

•   •   •

“We have a problem,” was how he started the explanation, while Jase, roused from sleep, sat amid his bedclothes. Kaplan and Polano had opened the door, and stood in the little sitting-room, in their shorts.

He explained it. Jase raked a hand through his hair; then said: “We’re in. Can we get a pot of that strong tea in here?”

“Deal,” he said. “I’ve got a spare vest. Choice of colors, brown or green, and bulletproof. I’ll send it with the tea.”

“I’m not particular.” Jase raised his voice. “Kaplan. Polano. Full kit, hear it?”

“Aye, captain,” the answer came back, and Bren headed back through the sitting room, to get back next door and send Supani and Koharu in with the requisite items. Tea for three. One vest, proof against most bullets. He and Jase were about the same size.

The dowager could still countermand the operation, but while he was dispatching Supani and Koharu, Tano and Algini came in to gather up needed gear, and it was clear that that wasn’t happening.

“The aiji-dowager,” Algini said, “has sent for the bus.”

“We do not know the capabilities of Jase-aiji’s guard,” Tano added. “We understand they are considerable.”

“They are,” he said. He put on the green vest: he had sent the brown brocade over to Jase. He had on a reasonably good shirt, his good beige coat, and Koharu handed him his pistol and two spare clips. He tucked those into his coat pockets.

Banichi came back. “The bus is well on its way. The dowager has waked Lord Tatiseigi, who is not yet coherent, and she has instructed Cenedi to tell me to tell you to stay behind your bodyguard.”

“One earnestly promises it,” he said. It somewhat troubled him that Banichi seemed cheerful—in a dark and businesslike way. Banichi and Jago both had looked worn and tired less than an hour ago, when they had explained to him that they had been outranked on the mission. Now they were full speed ahead—and he had to ask himself whether he had put temptation in their path.

But he was right,damn it all. Putting Nawari in there to try to draw a response was the best of a bad job. Nawari was a perfectly legitimate target. They couldnot risk the dowager going over there—though she wasn’t a legitimate target. And Cenedi was going by the book, against a Guild problem that wouldn’t.

He was far from as cheerful as his aishid in the prospect—it wasn’t in his makeup. But he’d been through hell down in the Marid, and he wasn’tGuild, with a traditional bent. He’d begun his career with a far simpler book, a dictionary of permitted words—and he’d watched that dictionary explode into full contact, up on the station.

He’d watched it work. There. Down here . . . he’d watched the world change, and he understood atevi for whom it had changed too fast. His job—his job,as Mospheira had originally defined it—was to keep the peace and recommend the rate at which star-faring technology would be safe in atevi hands.

In that sense, he’d failed miserably. But eventshad proceeded too fast, there’d been no time to temper the impact, and now . . .

A descent into the dark ages that had preceded the organization of the aishidi’tat would put a hellof a lot of inappropriate technology into inappropriate use. Hell if he was going to watch that happen.

And the instant he’d seen Jase, with a captain’s personal defenses, descending from the shuttle with the children—he’d had a little chill thought that Lord Geigi had sent him. Lord Geigi had gotten that briefing on his way to orbit. Geigi knew the situation inside the Guild. Knew exactly howit had to be stopped.

Geigi might have recommended the children come ahead. And he might have given the facts of the situation to the other captains, who were hell-bent on seeing the children’s mission work out, not in some ideal situation, but involved in the world as it was.

Jase had come down with just his bodyguard. The ship-paidhi.

With his bodyguard. From the starship.

Geigi, he suspected, had sat back at his desk, scarily satisfied.

17

The bus trundled onto the drive at the very edge of dawn, a slight blush to the sky above the hedges. It had a secret, sinister look, its red and black both muted by the dim light, except where the front door light cast its own artificial brilliance.