Free Betrayer: Foreigner #12 by C. J. Cherryh Page B

had been, in the Guild, was not the average Guild member. They were individuals possibly with very high-level skills, and were already proven to bear a very chancy man’chi to anything at all. There were a dozen atevi words for people who betrayed a service. On the one hand, they had the disposition to govern—to be aijiin. On the other—and a paper-thin distance removed from that—they had the disposition to be a problem to society.
    The Guild itself was a focus for man’chi: in a sense it was a clan of its own.
    But it had fractured during Murini’s takeover. It had become fragmented.
    And now some of its problems were aiming at him and potentially at Machigi himself . . . with ambitions and intentions of its own.
    That was not a comfortable thought. And now Machigi’s guard had found out and presumably had told Algini what Algini had just reported to him.
    Nobody from Machigi’s bodyguard wanted to come here right now and explain things to the rest of them. Algini had gone outside to talk to—whoever he had talked to, and he had stayed out long enough to worry him.
    Second point—Algini had written it out, not said it aloud, so it was something to be kept even from those elements of Machigi’s guard that were monitoring their conversations.
    That was very worrisome.
    Maybe the servants were equally suspect.
    The cook they had to trust?
    Damn.
    Damn.
    And damn.
    Bloody damn it. He hadn’t expected local politics to come to a head this fast even with him stirring the pot.
    But it was predictable, wasn’t it? He had come here in a painkillered fog, upset the political situation with his brain just a little too closely focused on the good Machigi could become to the situation, and now Machigi himself had become a target.
    Depend on it, Machigi’s potential enemies would have long since moved agents in on him, watching . . . that went on in every noble house in the aishidi’tat. In whatever houses there had ever been marriages and associations with other houses, staff traveled, staff joined other houses, settled in—and functioned as an information network. If the lords were getting along nicely, it was two-way. Or information moved only one way if things had gone to hell.
    Staff spied. That was a given. A sensible lord dismissed servants who were suspected of dual loyalties, but sometimes the most astute judge of man’chi made a mistake.
    And cell phones, hell. Members of the legislature in Shejidan had been tying themselves in knots over whether to import cell phone technology from the human enclave, sure that there were benefits to be had. He had been trying to think of a dozen arguments against it going into public use, but atevi great houses didn’t need cell phones. Their problem was keeping information inside, not making it one step easier to disseminate. There was always the information you knew but politely weren’t supposed to know, so you didn’t act as if you knew; and there was the information your associate knew, and you knew he knew, and it was good he know, for the sake of trust, but it was just too hot for you ever to mention to him personally. Servants told other servants, who told the lords and movers, who then didn’t have to of ficially know.
    Which saved a lot of lawsuits and Guild actions, not to mention personal stress.
    Machigi didn’t of ficially know who was gunning for him at the moment, but very likely his staff was busy sussing out who it was. And if Machigi’s staff was faithfully in his man’chi, they would be telling him all they dared, all they could, all they guessed . . . because their whole interest would be Machigi’s survival, no matter what.
    The paidhi didn’t of ficially know that he wasn’t safe under this roof, nor had Machigi officially told him—quite the opposite, actually—but nearly simultaneously Machigi’s staff had told his staff the paidhi was in danger, which was actually encouragingly good behavior on the part of his host’s household
    Did