Deceiver by C J Cherryh

Author:C J Cherryh [Cherryh, C J]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780756406646
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2011-04-05T00:00:00+00:00

The boy had been exemplary for days. The worst he had done lately was entice sensible Lord Geigi to violate security precautions. The whole house had stood to attention while Lord Geigi and Cajeiri had destroyed pottery in the garden; but with security all about, on the roof, on the wall, and about the premises—at least it had let young Cajeiri—and their visitor from space—blow off a little steam.

Toby and Barb had taken their own little turn at freedom, coming upstairs to the sitting room, which was, if only psychologically, far more comfortable than the basement. They had procured a deck of Mospheiran-style playing cards, so staff reported, and were pleasantly engaged.

The dowager was doing a little reading, after a spate of phone calls and coded requests. Her staff was resting.

The paidhi’s bodyguard was resting again, too, since the two escapees to the garden were safely back inside—while the paidhi was still sifting through names, names, names and whereabouts and histories and genealogies and business arrangements . . . and reading through the first pages of Baiji’s sorry account of the last few years. Baiji’s writing—God! Every line was I, I-this, I-that, and I-thought and I-felt, and damned little information. There were asides, in which Baiji described, to his own credit, one was sure he thought, that he had planted fruit trees in the back of the orchard. That he had enlarged the dining patio. That he had built a new stairs on the dockside. He had built an elaborate gazebo in his mother’s memory. He seemed bound to list all his credits, never mind the information they were really after.

The account finally got to a visit from a representative of a trade office from Separti Township, and the proposal, convolutely related, for a further meeting.

That had been the foot in the door. The trade organization in question had Marid ties. They had talked finance—clear that Baiji had a very weak grasp of that subject—and cited references from various south coast companies, which Baiji claimed not to remember, except for one vintner. God! Hardly a nest of espionage there. But there was, buried deep within the account, mostly implied, the notion that Baiji had been scared the world was ending when Tabini had been replaced by Murini, and had been very relieved to receive this contact with people who represented money.

Money. Something which Baiji had been spending wildly in his first few months in his stewardship. One had not seen the monument to his mother, but there was talk of marble columns and siting the thing up on a scenic cliff with a permanent light. One could only imagine.

And who had built it? He had not hired the Edi. He had called in a company from Separti, who ended up presenting him with more bills than he had planned, and said that supplies were short because of interruptions in shipping—there was a deal more about Edi engaged in piracy and sabotage, but not, of course, the servants, who were grateful to him for his good management and his looking after their interests.

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