“Better to move our operations to the library,” Jago said.

That was a thought: it would be closer to the front door— though one of the dowager’s favorite sitting spots, it was a thoroughly sensible suggestion, there being only this remaining suite remotely accceptable for a lord of Geigi’s rank.

One last suite to be had—this one, small as it was, with only three rooms; and if Geigi brought more than four Guild with him, it was going to be a squeeze. But Geigi could handle that. He was adaptable—hence his success governing the atevi side of the space station.

“We must move this afternoon, then,” Tano said.

“We do not, Bren-ji,” Algini said quietly, “propose to give Lord Geigi’s aishid, Guild though they be, close access to our own operations. We hope for your firm support in that position.”

“Without question, nadiin-ji,” Bren said. That posed another sticky little question. Lord Geigi was—one never said friendamong atevi, who had neither the concept nor the emotional hard-wiring to feel that sentiment. But certainly he was a personal ally, a very closely bound ally of many years, through many very difficult circumstances. There was nobodymore reliable than Lord Geigi, and they owed him profound gratitude and a feeling of absolute acceptance and trust.

But one could not rely on staff, Guild or otherwise, who might have suffered a confusion of man’chi—that warm emotion in atevi which attached individuals to other individuals of greater power. Man’chi, the glue that held atevi society together and made households function, had a certain tendency to weaken—given long absence or political upheaval.

And Lord Geigi, while only a phone call away from the planet, had spent the last decade up on the space station. The Guildsmen with him had been long out of touch with whatever ties they had had here in Sarini Province, or elsewhere.

Given those circumstances, staff’s sense of precaution was entirely reasonable, by atevi lights.

More, that absence had left Geigi’s estate—and his once-close relationship with the Edi people—to suffer the effects of two caretaker lords: first his sister, and then his nephew Baiji— whose flaws of character had been extreme, and whose staff had ranged from questionable to Marid-based.

No knowing, in effect, what Lord Geigi would be walking into over at Kajiminda if he imprudently tried to go there straight away; and no knowing—a worse thought, which popped into Bren’s head quite unwelcomely—no knowing what odd influences might have gotten onto Geigi’s staff even while he was on the station, slowly and over the years. Tabini had been very careful who got into orbit—and with the shuttles grounded all during Murini’s administration, nobodyin Murini’s man’chi had gotten into orbit—but man’chi was always subject to revision, given changed circumstances. Houses onworld had risen and fallen: allegiances had rearranged themselves clear across the continent. Certain clans had fallen. The Guild itself had suffered upheaval, including the overthrow of one Guildmaster and the assassination of another. Relationships on the planet had undergone profound change—and that might affect a whole range of things that could make a once-reliable relationship unstable.

No, he decidedly did not want Geigi’s current staff having free rein in his security operations. Algini was very, very right about that notion. They would have to research Geigi’s bodyguard, learn who their relatives were, how placed, how connected, during the usurper’s regime. Matters which could hang fire forever so long as these men served in orbit could reach out to change loyalties, once they were on the planet. Geigi himself would know that, and likely had been very careful which of his staff he picked to go with him—but would he have done it with perfect information?

God, what a mess!

“Are we, however, yet admitting the heir’s two new guards to trusted levels?” he asked, a point of not-idle curiosity.

“Not in any particular way,” Tano said, and Bren nodded slowly. Lucasi and Veijico, whom Tabini had installed in addition to Antaro and Jegari, came to the household with high-level credentials, too. But by that statement, his aishid was not turning over the house codes to them, not yet admitting them to decision-making, apparently not even letting them give orders to the servants. The dowager’s staff, yes, could do all those things. Cenedi, absolutely; but Cenedi was a long-standing exception. His staff was clearly running a very tight ship.

So Geigi’s staff was destined to be under-informed until the investigation ran its course.

“I concur,” he said. It was not a lord’s business to critique security decisions unless he found serious fault—and with his aishid, he didn’t. Ever. He was damned lucky, he thought. Very damned lucky to have this bodyguard. He would not be alive, if they had been in the least lax, but they had not, not even when they had arrived on what they had expected to be a working vacation. They still smarted over the ambush at Kajimindac when their domestic sources had given them bad information, and when their lord had not picked up on the clues that should have warned him.

“Do what you need to do,” he said. “Staff will move anything in the library that you want moved out.” Staff would not be allowed to touch Guild equipment. But historic porcelains and small tables and sitting chairs were definitely something staff could handle, and should, with their own sort of care.

So he went out and gave the orders to the servant staff. The household security station, in the advent of another guest, was about to be remade as a visiting lord’s residence.

All of which meant the paidhi’s office now became his last refuge, the last secure, quiet place where he could work and answer correspondence and prepare arguments for the coming legislative sessionc which was what he had been doing when all hell had broken loose in the district.

But the legislative documents, regarding a proposed cell phone installation, lay underneath a stack of research and maps of the west coast, which was pretty well the situation in reality. He was no longer sure he would make it back to the capital for the sessionc but then, he was no longer sure the cell phone controversy would make it to the floor, thanks to the nest of problems he’d stirred up. He shouldbe in Shejidan for the session.

But he was likely to be here, on the west coast, trying to comprehend Edi interests and figure exactly how the dowager’s proposal was going to work in practicality.

Oh, the debate in the legislature was likely going to be loud and nasty.

Another armed set-to with the Marid?

Well, on the one hand, another Marid flare-up was the one thing he could think of that might draw the Padi Valley clans back together—fragmented as that local association had been since Murini’s clan, the Kadagidi, had seized power in alliance with the Marid. The Marid was generally detested now. By everyone—including the Padi Valley.

But, ironically, and on the other hand, a proposed Edi seat in the house of lords could see the Padi Valley andthe Marid united in opposition. The Padi Valley would oppose it because they were the old nobility and ran the legislature, and liked it that way. The Marid—

Well, the Marid needed no excuse at all to oppose the Edi.

Not to mention that certain conservatives in the legislature blamed the paidhi’s influence for the recent troubles. Now he would be associated with offering the Edi equality and a voice in politics.

He really, truly neededto preserve this one little sanctuary in the house, where he could get his thoughts together and figure out what to say when he finally did have to face the legislature.

And facing that moment with an acceptable solution already worked out would make life so much easier.