by Fonda Lee
“So she’ll talk if we lie down and let the Mountain walk over us?” Hilo’s nostrils flared. “I know you think I’m touchy about things sometimes, that I get angry and take things personal, but trust me Lan, I know what’s going on out there. Gont looks like a meathead, but he’s crafty. Every time I’m not looking, he takes a bit more from us. Little by little but never enough to provoke an outright war. I’ll find out two of our Lantern Men are now paying tribute to his Fists. Or that somehow the lease on a building that housed our businesses went sour, and the landlord sold it to a cousin in the Mountain. They can’t swallow us whole like they did the Three Run clan, so they’re picking and picking at us instead.”
Lan turned to his Weather Man. “What do you think, Doru?”
Doru took his time responding. A little too much time, Lan thought, as if he was deliberately trying not to come off as being too ready with an answer. “I think Ayt-jen’s proposal has merit. The Fists of both clans can only see as far as they can swing their blades; whatever petty disagreements they have over territory are not terribly important in the larger scheme of things and shouldn’t influence our decision when it comes to big business.” A criticism of the Horn’s side of the clan, discernible in his gravelly voice. “Ayt-jen is right about how the foreigners all want SN1, how there’s a great deal of money to be made in establishing a reliable supply that we Green Bones control. Since the operations would be offshore in Ygutan, there’s no danger of it polluting our own country. Green Bones have always been strongest when united; instead of trying to divide Kekon between us, we could strike an alliance with the Mountain to increase the gain for us all.”
Hilo’s lips were drawn back. “There’s no such thing as an alliance with the Mountain. Three Run found that out the hard way. At the end, we’ll be two clans with two Pillars, or one clan with one Pillar.” Hilo tipped back an ice cube from his glass and crunched it, his face set in a sure scowl. “If we show interest in this, if we agree to work with them, they’ll only use the opportunity to control us. I don’t believe for a second that Ayt is serious about sharing power. She’s not the type. She hasn’t even made it clear what she wants from us. Financing? Manpower?”
“For a start, it seems she wants our assurance that if nothing else, we won’t stand against them,” Doru said. “It makes perfect sense; why else make a play for Anden? When the boy graduates, we can send him to work for the Mountain in their new Ygutanian operations. It’s a good job, like Ayt-jen said, full of responsibility. Through him, we would know everything about the Mountain’s operations there, and for their part, they would be certain we were invested in keeping the peace, not undermining them or going to the Espenians. So there’d be trust on both sides.”
“Send Andy over to the enemy?” Hilo’s eyes bulged with disbelief; his aura was becoming uncomfortable to Perceive.
Doru said, “During the Three Crowns era, royal houses often exchanged children so both sides were motivated to maintain good relations.”
“You mean offer Andy as a hostage.” Hilo spun toward Lan with a snarl. “Never. Not a fucking chance!”
Doru sniffed. “Sometimes, the old ways are not without wisdom.”
Lan held up a hand to forestall Doru saying anything more, and looking into Hilo’s flushed face, he said quietly, “Calm down. Anden’s not a pawn, and we’re not sending him anywhere he doesn’t want to go.” Lan had been swirling the melting ice cubes in his glass as he listened and pondered, and now he set his glass down on the table, having come to an inescapable conclusion about what his response to the Mountain had to be. Hilo had a tendency to react personally, while Doru evaluated options with cold-blooded, strategic pragmatism, but there was a third angle that neither of them had voiced, that was, for Lan, the deciding factor.
Lan turned to Doru. “I’m going to prepare a reply to the Mountain, and I want you to send it through their Weather Man’s office, the way it ought to be done in business matters like this. We don’t have to act improperly just because they do. I’m going to decline any alliance or partnership with the Mountain when it comes to the production of shine. However, we won’t stand in their way either. They’re free to pursue their venture, so long as it doesn’t threaten any of No Peak’s businesses or territories.” He paused, then added, “Make no mention of Anden; he’s not part of this. If Ayt wants assurance of our neutrality, she’ll have to take our word for it.”
Doru inclined his head, but it was easy to see from both his tight expression and the prickly change in his aura the disappointment he felt in the matter. “If I might ask, what is your rationale for deciding on this important matter so quickly?”
Lan didn’t really want to hear whatever counterarguments he knew Doru was sure to provide but he owed his highest advisors an explanation. “It takes us down a dangerous path. If more foreigners have access to shine, demand for jade will rise as well. There’ll be pressure on the Kekon Jade Alliance to increase mining and to reform export quotas to sell not just to the Espenians, but to the Ygutanians and others as well, or risk the black market filling that demand with smuggled jade.”
Lan could not condone that; he had just voted against an increase in jade exports at the last KJA meeting. Jade was Kekon’s most precious natural resource. It was the birthright of the Kekonese people and lay at the center of the Green Bone culture and way of life. Selling it as a militarily useful substance to foreigners, to people who had no jade warrior training or upbringing, who did not understand aisho and could not appreciate what it meant to be green … it sat uneasily with him. Yes, the export of jade maintained the alliance with the Espenians and enriched the national coffers, but it had to be strictly limited. That was why the Green Bone clans held authority over the Kekon Jade Alliance in the first place. Now one of the major clans was proposing something that was sure to undermine the power of the KJA in the long run, and that disturbed him greatly.
“Forgive me, Lan-se,” Doru argued with more forcefulness than usual, “but surely the KJA is an example that our two clans are capable of existing in partnership. Any future mining and export decisions will have to be made jointly between us and the Mountain. It seems premature to worry about them now.”
Lan glanced at the Weather Man in mild surprise. He would not personally have held up the Kekon Jade Alliance as a shining example of clan partnership. The tiers of accountability and stakeholder voting requirements seemed to ensure that no KJA decisions were ever made in less than six months. “You obviously have a more optimistic view of the KJA than I do,” Lan replied. “But there are other reasons not to get involved.”
“Such as the fact that Ayt’s whole proposal is a setup,” Hilo insisted. “A way for the Mountain to appear reasonable while gaining an advantage over us.”
Lan was inclined to agree with Hilo’s suspicions but did not voice this out loud. “Shine is a poison,” he said firmly. “It erodes the natural order of society. It encourages people who shouldn’t have anything to do with jade. Like those boys, the thieves that Hilo caught at the Twice Lucky last month.” Lan set his jaw. “If we get involved in producing shine in any way, we’ll be contributing to the trafficking and unsanctioned use of jade. I won’t judge another Pillar’s opinions, but to my thinking, doing this would be a violation of aisho.”
“Is it not the highest level of aisho that Green Bones protect the country?” Doru asked. “Working together to control SN1 will make the clans stronger. That will make Kekon stronger, less vulnerable to foreigners.”
“And what if the Espenians find out that Green Bone clans are selling drugs to the Ygutanians for military use? Ygutan will blame the SN1 factories on Kekon and deny any official involvement. The Mountain is courting conflict, and I don’t want No Peak involved.” Lan cut off Doru’s attempt to say anything further. “Doru-jen, my decision on this is final. Are you going to fulfill your responsibilities as Weather Man and handle this the way I’ve asked?”
The old advisor’s tapered chin dipped in unenthus
iastic acknowledgment. In a final attempt to argue his position, he said with clever mildness, “Of course I will, Lan-se, but perhaps we should talk to Kaul-jen before making a final decision.”
Lan had had enough. “You’re talking to Kaul-jen now,” he said, so coldly that the startled Doru fell silent. Hilo smiled.
Despite having made what he thought was the right decision, Lan was disheartened. Gods in Heaven, it was difficult to be Pillar with his impetuous younger brother on one side and his grandfather’s cagey old crony on the other. It wasn’t hopeless, however. Hilo had kept his head this afternoon, and Doru was, however reluctantly, falling into line. Now that the hard talk was over, Lan spoke in a more conciliatory tone. “I think our nerves are a little frayed. You should know, both of you, that I value your opinions.”
“So now what?” Hilo asked. “We wait to see how Ayt responds?”
“Not quite. I said we won’t interfere with the Mountain, but knowing what they’re up to, we need to be more careful. Doru, I want you to set up a meeting for me with Chancellor Son.” Having been so strongly put in his place a minute earlier, the Weather Man nodded without complaint.
Lan turned to his brother. “Hilo, what I told you about the Armpit now applies to Sogen and all our border territories as well. Bolster defenses where you have to, but no bloodshed without family approval. No retaliation for them taking Anden either. Maybe they spat in our eye, but he’s back with no harm done, and we’re denying them the alliance they want, so best not to create more hard feelings for a while.”
Hilo crossed his arms and shrugged. “If you say so.”
“One other thing,” Lan said. “I want to make sure Shae is protected. Her apartment is in North Sotto, so there shouldn’t be any trouble, but I’m talking about when she’s going around in Janloon. Have one or two of your people keep an eye on her.”
Now Hilo looked displeased; he made a face that Lan thought was childish, as if he were eight years old and being upbraided to be nice to his sister. “Shae’s plenty able to look after herself.”
Lan said, exasperated, “You know she’s not wearing jade. She’s not part of the clan business, but maybe the Mountain doesn’t know that. After what happened to Anden today, we should take precautions.”
“If she wore her jade, she’d be plenty able to look after herself,” Hilo amended, clearly still grumpy about it, but not disagreeing. Lan let it go. He was glad to have Shae back, with or without her jade, but saying so would only make Hilo sulk. Lan had concluded long ago that there was little he could say or do if his younger siblings were determined to be cruel to each other.
CHAPTER
12
A Man Named Mudt
Bero’s face healed crooked, and when he looked in the mirror, he mused that he was ugly now. Also, he limped a little when he ran. These things did not matter so much to him, but when he noticed them, which was often, he remembered the disaster of the night at the Twice Lucky. He remembered the Maik brothers’ heavy fists, the Horn’s casual disdain, and the Pillar’s look of undisguised pity, as if Bero were a three-legged dog, not even worth killing.
But most of all, Bero remembered jade. What it had been like to have it, and what it had been like to lose it.
Sampa, that Abukei pussy, had gone straight as a rod. With the fear of anything green beaten into him, he’d taken a job as a bike courier. Bero saw him huffing and puffing down the streets of their poor dockworkers neighborhood at the edge of the Forge, his doughy body straining on the pedals as he hauled boxes and bundles on a squeaking, rusted bike trailer. When Bero called out to him, Sampa ignored him. In retaliation, Bero slashed Sampa’s tires and the boy missed his deliveries one day and lost his job.
Bero’s aunt worked twelve hours a day as a seamstress in a garment factory, and Bero slept on the floor of her apartment when she was not there. The aunt’s boyfriend worked in a warehouse at the docks and knew how to skim a little for himself. Not enough to get caught and fired but enough to sustain his drinking habit. Though the bastard never did Bero any favors, it was through him that Bero caught wind of a man named Mudt, who fenced stolen merchandise out of the back of a discount goods store in Junko.
That in itself was not so interesting to Bero, but the other rumors he heard were. He found the man in the back room of his store, counting boxes. Mudt was a tawny-looking man with crinkly hair and small eyes; he might have had a bit of Abukei blood in him. “What do you want?” asked Mudt.
Bero said, “I heard you’ve got work, for people who want it.”
“Maybe.” The man coughed into his elbow and turned toward Bero with watery, pinprick bright eyes. Even in the muggy heat, he wore a gray shirt with sleeves down to his wrists; the armpits and collar were dark with sweat. “It’s not work for pussies, though. Can you drive? Can you handle a gun?”
“I can do both.” Bero studied the man. “Is it true? That you’re green?”
Mudt smirked. Then he stuck out his tongue, showing off the jade stud pierced through the center of it. “Oh, it’s real,” he assured Bero. “I don’t mind telling you because I know you’re cut, keke. You’re hungry.” He tapped the center of his own forehead with an index finger and grinned with crooked teeth. “Perception, you see.”
If it was true that Mudt had jade, then the rest of what Bero had heard was probably true as well: that Mudt had false papers and a reliable source of shine, that as a small business owner in No Peak territory, he paid nominal tribute to the clan, but made his real wealth as an informer for the Mountain. Mudt was a self-made man. Proof that you didn’t need to be born into the right family or go to the right school to have what the Green Bones had, to take power when it wasn’t given to you.
“I want to work for you,” said Bero.
CHAPTER
13
A Favor Asked
Shae was beginning to quite like her new home in North Sotto. Tackling the tasks of settling into an apartment made her feel productive and, even if she wasn’t sure what she was going to do next as far as work was concerned, it gave her confidence that she could do this—she could live in Janloon and be near her family but still maintain her independence. She purchased attractive but basic furniture, stocked the apartment with necessities, and got used to cooking for one person again. She began exploring the neighborhood around her building and was pleased to find it contained an assortment of shops selling everything from brand-name handbags to malodorous herbal powders, and a range of eateries from oyster bars to nighttime noodle stands. More upscale than the crowded, unkempt Sotto Village, North Sotto was a gentrifying, trendy district populated by young professionals, artists, and a decent smattering of foreign expats. Shae could wear bold prints and bright skirts from her Espenian wardrobe, and far from looking out of place, appear trendsetting and stylish. This was Janloon at its most cosmopolitan and worldly.
However, even though an innocent visitor to the city might not notice it, it was apparent to Shae that the clan ruled here as strongly as it did anywhere else. She saw white lanterns—real ones or cheap paper cutouts—hanging in windows wherever she went. More than once she passed one or two, occasionally three, of Hilo’s people. Without her jade, she could not Perceive their auras, but they were easy to spot: tough, hard-bodied young men and sometimes women, well dressed, casually armed with knives or blades, jade almost always on prominent display. Most people hurried past them, not wanting to draw any undue attention. Shae did the same, though for different reasons.
Her neighbors consisted of a twentysomething couple who looked as if they worked in the Financial District (the woman owned a tiny dog with the size and charm of an overfed rat), a single middle-aged woman who was always having her other single middle-aged woman friends over to drink wine and play loud card games, and a college-age young man who moved into the apartment down the hall from Shae’s about two weeks after she arrived. He seemed to come and go frequently, and after they’d nodded to each other several times when passing in the hallways or
on the stairs, Shae thought she ought to introduce herself. She was hesitant to do so. Once she said the name Kaul, her pleasant anonymity here would end.
She told herself it was ridiculous to let such a thing prevent her from ever meeting anyone new. When she next saw her neighbor, they happened to be leaving the building at the same time. “I keep seeing you, but I don’t know your name,” she said to him, smiling.
“Ah,” he said, looking slightly abashed. He tipped his shoulders forward and touched his forehead in informal greeting. “I’m Caun Yudenru.”
Shae returned the gesture. “I’m Shae.”
Caun Yu raised his eyebrows. Heat rushed into Shae’s cheeks. She’d meant to give her full name, but somehow only the diminutive personal had escaped her mouth. Gods. He must be thinking her a shameless flirt. Caun was attractive—though he was younger than she and always wore the same black skullcap hat that made him look like a delinquent—but that wasn’t the point. She wasn’t interested in a rebound relationship. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Caun.” Shae backpedaled into formality, secretly cringing at what an odd mess she was making out of a simple encounter. “I will … see you soon, then.”
Somehow, she kept her poise, smiled benignly, and strode down the street without hurrying, as if she’d meant to make a fool of herself all along.
Determined to start making some headway on finding employment, she went to the city library and perused business directories of Janloon, jotting down the names and addresses of companies that interested her into a coil-bound notebook. After a couple of hours of this, she was struck again, as she had been with the apartment hunt, by how needlessly slow and ineffective the process was. No Peak controlled businesses in many sectors, some through direct ownership but far more through patronage relationships with tribute-paying Lantern Men. A few well-placed phone calls and she could bypass all this legwork. She wondered if adhering to her policy of no help from the family was truly a worthy principle, or if she was just being prideful to the point of idiocy.