Tracker by C. J. Cherryh

looked at them all—he looked hard, trying to remember every detail of their faces, their relative height—that was going to change. By their next visit, and forever after, he would very likely be the tallest of them, and the tallest by quite a lot, once they were all grown.
    The bus doors opened, and it was time.
    They had to behave now. They had to follow all the regulations. Most of all things in the world, they had to keep nand’ Bren and Jase-aiji firmly on their side.
    Cajeiri had only one immediately chancy intention, however: to go just as far as he could with his guests, and not to have to say good-bye at the bus door. He led the way up the aisle, up to the door, as Jase-aiji’s bodyguards were going out, and as Jase-aiji was taking his own leave of nand’ Bren. If he got onto the steps, he had to go down them to let his guests out, and his bodyguard had to go out, and he would
be
outside with them.
    But Jase-aiji
and
nand’ Bren went on out ahead of him. So he was able to go outside with his guests, just behind Kaplan and Polano, and stand with them under the open sky. They were so close to the runway they could hear the address system from trucks attending the shuttle, voices talking about numbers, and technical things.
    Jase-aiji had lingered to talk with nand’ Bren and their security. But nand’ Bren was going no farther, so this, now, was where they had to say good-bye, having gotten at least this far together.
    His guests understood, too. Irene’s eyes started watering, and she kept trying to stop the flood, and trying to make her face calm.
    â€œOne regrets,” Irene said in good Ragi, wiping at her face. “One tried not to do this, Jeri-ji. It’s
stupid
.”
    â€œYou have to go,” Cajeiri said, “but remember what we said last night. We are associates. Forever. And I
will
get you back, so long as you want to come back. If everything goes well—I shall get you back for my next birthday. Maybe sooner.”
    â€œWe stay connected,” Gene said.
    â€œI have my notebook,” Irene said. She sniffed and her voice shook.
    â€œJust be careful what you say to everybody,” Cajeiri said. That was his greatest worry. “Tell only the good things. Be careful. And remember you should not have to pay anything to send letters or to call me on the phone. Do not let anybody say you have to pay. Nand’ Geigi will send the letters for you if you cannot reach nand’ Jase. Just get the letters to him if you have any trouble. And go to him first if anything goes wrong.”
    â€œWe shall write,” Gene said. “A lot.”
    â€œCome along, kids,” Jase-aiji said, waiting with his bodyguard. “Sorry. They want us aboard. They’re going into an unscheduled hold for us.”
    A moment of panic came down then. They looked at each other. Irene took a deep breath and managed to steady herself. Artur and Gene gave a little bow, very proper.
    Then they walked away, all three.
    Â â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢Â 
    The youngsters all three were very polite, very proper in their leaving, bowing as they passed on their way to Jase, and Bren returned the bows very gravely, in silence.
    Irene was the last.
    â€œNandi,” she said properly.
    â€œReni-daja,” Bren said. That was Cajeiri’s name for her. “Have a very good flight.”
    â€œGet me back!” she whispered suddenly in ship-speak, looking up at him.
“
Please
get me back, sir!”
    Then she spun around and ran the few steps to catch up with Jase and the two boys, wiping tears as she went.
    God, Bren thought, a little shaken by that. He stood watching as Jase and the kids walked on their way to the shuttle, along the safety corridor painted on the pavement. Jase had his hand on Gene’s shoulder, and the boys had Irene between them, holding her hands.
    He turned then to see how Cajeiri was taking the departure, and saw a forlorn figure,