Intruder (26 page)

Suddenly everything in the world was going as right as it could go.

Well, except for the baby coming.

L
etters and committee meetings.

Committee meetings, and more committee meetings, and a reasonable forecast of arguments and squabbles between regions that had to be headed off once the details of the Machigi alliance became public. Jealousies existed between clans within regions, and between provinces and regions, where it came to prerogatives and agreements with the government in Shejidan. Philosophical disputes existed between the modernists and the traditionalists and the Rational Determinists, a philosophical quagmire that the paidhi-aiji didn’t remotely wish to navigate. When it came to philosophy, one could let Geigi, a Rational Determinist, use his influence, from a safe remove at Kajiminda to make headway on that front. Let Tatiseigi, a staunch traditionalist, have at the rest of his associates in Shejidan,
in favor
of the paidhi-aiji’s position.
There
was a novelty.

The whisper was getting out regarding the new proposals for the disposition of the coast and the tribal Gan and Edi. Rumors were also getting out about the treaty settling the Marid and about the paidhi-aiji’s position on cell phones.

Three issues. One could not have shouted fire in the halls of the Bujavid and stirred up any more passionate reaction than that combination of news. There were increasing rustlings of alarm from every political entity in the aishidi’tat.

Jago reported that Tabini was getting questions, too. Tabini was letting supporters of the cell phone issue down by stages, saying
that the matter was complex and under renewed study, not quite mentioning yet, for the benefit of those opposed to cell phones, the possibility of some device still more technical in the offing.

And the irony of it all was that, for all the furor the agreement between Ilisidi and Machigi was causing, there was no point at which the various clans, districts, industries, associations, organizations, and philosophical groups—could actually get to vote on whether or not there would be an association between Malguri and the Taisigin Marid. An association was purely—and traditionally—a matter between or among the participants, and it was, to a certain extent—nobody else’s business until it was signed.

Then
the implementation was going to rattle every door in the aishidi’tat.

Atevi politics at its finest.

The aiji-dowager sent word she was winging her way here—or was about to. The time was flexible. The shuttle was coming…that took time, but gravity was
not
flexible. And Machigi’s representative would be coming in; the train would be on a commercial schedule, not being a special.

As for Ilisidi’s timing, it was a toss-up as to whether it was news about the shuttle, news about the representative, a personal letter from Tatiseigi, or the fear that Lord Geigi would be coming in to have a potential encounter with Tatiseigi that had gotten the dowager moving—but moving she was, possibly to fling herself between her two rivalrous associates.

Adding to the stir, the porcelain exhibit had just opened its doors to the Merchant’s Guild, as a “gift from the lord of the Marid,” and the word had now gone from the paidhi’s office to the Merchant’s Guild that this exhibit represented an opportunity for a trade that had not been available for a very long time. The first merchants to set up agreements in Tanaja naturally stood to profit most, and to get their hands on a currently limited number of items…oh, they understood that part very well.

That bid fair to start a feeding frenzy, and the feeding frenzy was almost certain to cross party lines and to upset just about every vested interest who couldn’t see a way to profit.

The Marid representative, too, was going to get a great deal of attention once she arrived—dangerous attention, in some quarters. And the Guild knew it.

Bren sent, by means of the Guild, a welcoming message for the representative when she arrived, along with a bouquet of suitable and auspicious flowers of the season, and a card marking the occasion.

That handled the question of the representative with a certain grace. Holding the rank he did, he was hardly obliged to run down to the hotel district to attend the mere representative of another lord while she unpacked, but he had made gestures of welcome, offered help, and invited contact through channels readily available to the lady should she have the energy left to want a meeting tonight.

Looming over the schedule was the face-to-face meeting with the Merchants’ Guild Council, all of whom were supposed to have been invited to view the porcelain exhibit downstairs today.

That meant the reports had to be ready, not only for that Guild, but for Transport, for the Messengers, and for the Assassins—the last
as a courtesy, the first as intimately involved in the arrangements the dowager planned to make.

Daisibi and his staff had their work cut out for them.

The flower arrangement on the committee room conference table suggested calm and felicity as well as prosperity—that touch, arranged by Daisibi, was always good with the merchants. It was a low arrangement, appropriate for such a gathering. Bren, far shorter than the rest, could still see the faces above it.

And the Guildmaster of the Merchants, a lean, thoughtful man whose name was Marchien, sat at the broad end of the table, flanked by his own chief officers.

Bren, paidhi-aiji, and, in this meeting, the representative of the aiji-dowager, sat at the other alone—in what convention called a mirrored arrangement. Higher members of the Guild sat toward Marchien, and lower officers of the Guild sat next to Bren. It was a big table, the largest conference room in the Bujavid, with microphones inconspicuously set at each place.

There were the opening courtesies. Then came the initial statement, not from Marchien, but from the Junior Guildmaster at Marchien’s right.

“We have seen the exhibit downstairs, nand’ paidhi. We take it this arrival from the Marid, in light of other events, represents somewhat more than a gesture of good will. But are we to take this level of artistry as an earnest of the sort of trade they intend, since your letter suggests the whole porcelain industry as a starting point, nandi? Such craftsmanship and costliness hardly seems an article of common trade, which could be economically meaningful. And this of course supposes that this agreement with the Marid goes forward.”

“Here is the proposal,” Bren said soberly, and signaled Banichi and Jago, who signaled Tano, who signaled the staffer with the cart in the service passage, and in rolled stacks of booklets, three
reports for each member of the committee…thank God for the assistance of the clerical staff, who had pulled together historic reference and maps, import and export figures, listings of exporters and trade offices, plus photographs of the Eastern harbors, to go with the maps. There was a volume of history of trade with the Marid going back to the Great Wave and figures on Marid commerce and economy since, with the history of the five clans, plus information on the Marid porcelain industry and the suppliers of raw materials within the aishidi’tat. There was the economic history of the current trade within the Marid, plus photos of typical types, with annual sales figures.

Thank
God
for the clerical staff.

And give the Merchants’ Guild one thing. Like the Assassins’ Guild, the Merchants’ Guild was quite refreshingly easy in the singularity of its purpose.

And they were, in that light, also among the most honest of the guilds: It was very hard to get it to play any politics that ran contrary to that central purpose, since it was dedicated to profit, and its membership was passionately averse to losing money or losing opportunities to make money. Since they thrived best in peace—weaponry fell under another guild—they tended to prefer that condition, another fact in their favor.

There was quickly a proposal on the table to bring in the curator of the Bujavid collections to educate the Guild membership on the worth and technicalities of Marid porcelains compared to those of other regions.

“One may also suggest,” Bren said innocently, “the assistance of the lord of the Atageini, who is himself a renowned expert in the collectors’ market and knowledgeable in the value of collectors’ items, in the higher end of this trade. One is certain he would be a great resource.”

The Guild took notes.

And requested several samples of ordinary commercial craftwork, declaring they would seek expert opinions on that.

There was animated discussion of the opening of the Marid factor’s office
and the arrival of the Marid representative in Shejidan—and there was strong interest in the establishment a Merchants’ Guild office down in Tanaja. There followed a motion to bring in the Transport Guild to discuss rail options for increased traffic between Tanaja and Shejidan and one to bring in the Assassins’ Guild to discuss security both in Tanaja, for the proposed office, and in the Marid north, considering the prospect of moving shipments from the Taisigin Marid through the Senjin Marid.

When the Merchants’ Guild moved, it moved on many fronts at once, efficiently and boldly, in areas of endeavor it was confident it knew. And it moved fast, with uncommonly little debate.

The meeting went rather well, in Bren’s estimation.

The Treasurers’ Guild, which was to say the bankers and accountants, had meanwhile, and simultaneously, held its own meeting and invited the paidhi to the summation of the session, again the upper echelon of a Guild with a well-defined objective and a set of simple and predictable requirements. They had heard the business afoot in the Merchants’ Guild pretty well as it transpired, having had a representative present for the presentation, who had kept sending notes by runner to the Treasurers’ Guild, and they wanted an office in Tanaja too.

But, even more ambitious than the Merchants, they were particularly interested in the rumored opening of new Eastern ports, a topic the Merchants had not yet raised in more than a passing mention, pending more concrete recommendation from the Treasurers. Several independent banks in that Guild intended to consult with the Merchants’ Guild to talk about an expansion into the East, where a different currency had prevailed from antiquity…and
that
was going to have its own complications, not to mention howls of outrage if western currency started to circulate in the East.

That issue had to be dealt with diplomatically—a note to oneself to urge the Treasurers to come up with a special currency or means of exchange to get value between the East, the Marid, and
the main part of the aishidi’tat. The Marid was likely to deal in anything that worked, but there was serious opposition in Shejidan to any fragmentation of the currency, as they called it.

Not to mention—and one had rather
not
mention, if one could avoid it, but it was inevitable—the side issue that was under discussion in the Treasurers’ Guild: an audit and accounting for the long-tangled affairs in Sarini Province, since it had been determined that Baiji, in his tenure at Kajiminda, had been involved in numerous off-the-books transactions, which needed to be brought
onto
the books, involving, potentially, most of the west coast.

The Treasurers took a by-the-book attitude toward any assistance rendered the Edi people in the construction of a new governmental center: they wanted a public record of source and amounts—and such things tended to come back and haunt the donors if there was a tight vote in the legislature and any question of bribery or collusions of an illegal nature. Some exchange of gifts was routine, but it was understood to be a gesture. Extravagance could mean adverse publicity.

That audit was a looming headache that he and Lord Geigi were going to share, not to mention the new lord of the Maschi at Targai, and if Lord Geigi headed back to the space station for somewhat more critical matters there, it was going to be the paidhi-aiji helping the new lord of the Maschi explain it all. There
were
no financial records in the Kajiminda affair that they had been able to find, beyond the stash of Baiji’s notes and correspondence, which the scoundrel had probably kept as potential blackmail of his managers—the depth of Baiji’s naïveté and stupidity had not yet been plumbed—and, yes, the paidhi-aiji
and
Lord Geigi would be perfectly happy to provide copies to the Treasurer’s Guild, so long as the investigations did not run counter to the aiji’s current dealings and negotiations with the Taisigin Marid, the Dausigi, and the Sungeni.

If the Treasurers’ Guild wanted to find problems in the accounts
of the other two clans in the Marid, they must present those findings directly to Tabini-aiji, and the findings would ultimately be brought onto the books.

But there would be no investigation of the Taisigi and their allies reaching back into a diplomatically sensitive past. That situation, damn it, came under a general amnesty, and he now realized he had to ask for a signed document from Tabini to make that clear before some accountant waded in and tried to raise issues that were covered by the amnesty. Sometimes amnesty had to mean amnesty, or they ended up refighting useless battles, and things went to hell on skids. The Marid had seen two hundred years of almost-progress periodically ended by publicity at the wrong moment…a fact that he had tried delicately to point out to the Treasurers’ Guild.

One definitely wanted a stiff brandy and a day to rest after
that
meeting.

The Messengers’ Guild, the guild most notoriously corruptible from antiquity upward, wanted the Assassins’ Guild to protect its crews in repairing and maintaining its phone lines in the more troubled districts of the Marid, and, oh, it was
very
interested in the paidhi’s opinion on the cell phone bill. The rumor that the paidhi had changed his vote on the bill having begun to spread like wildfire, it drew mixed reactions from the Messengers—with, Bren thought, perhaps an automatic suspicion that, from loudly opposing the bill, perhaps they should now vote
for
it, since they always had opposed the paidhi’s programs.