Ambassador tya-4

by P. S. Power

  “Tell me, what's the point of having over-sized humans like that anyway? They eat more, take up greater resources and only contribute war and aggression to the world. I always thought the Cordes program was a mistake, but then Noram always did go with the idea of bigger being better. Small people would have done more for them in the end I think. Well, too late now. They'll breed themselves down to a decent size in a few thousand years. That or kill each other off, which will work too.”

  Tor sat, there was a pillow on the floor, a pink thing that reminded him a little of spun sugar. It seemed more cloud than seat but that didn't stop it from easily supporting his weight. After a moment Mutta led in part of the group, smiling and speaking softly as if they might be scared by all this. Well, it was a trap, but only one for him. Tor shrugged and turned his clothing to black combat leathers. If it was a fight, he'd try his best. It acted as a warning to the others, who all shifted their clothing to match his. Suddenly the woman in front of him clapped her hands. Tor expected an attack, but tea came instead, carried by a ebony skinned boy of about sixteen. He didn't make eye contact at all looking down the whole time and smiled, but it was like he was shy, that horrible kind of thing that made it hard to actually talk to people at all. Tor could relate but looking away right now would be a poor plan. Ambassadors couldn't afford to be shy and retiring, could they?

  “Everyone, Grandma. Grandma, everyone.” Tor said his voice gaining a bit of a lilt suddenly, he couldn't say why, but he kept going.

  “At least in part, we've been lured here, I think. I imagine they really do want the rivers too, otherwise they're going to be rather upset when we start senselessly flooding the middle of their continent.” He stopped talking long enough to get a single, but very definite nod from Gray.

  “So the question now is, why bring us here. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd have come just to chat, but this seems a little more… doesn't it? If I'm imagining things, please do let me know. I can go and get an early nights rest instead of dealing with this then. First though, Gray is it? Do you have another name I can call you?”

  The pause was long, drawn out and peppery, if that was possible. He literally smelled pepper in the air suddenly, after a moment the shields all turned on and started flaring purple. Flickers of light in the air, making thick clouds after less than a moment, each of his people glowing suddenly, brightly enough to cast shadows on the wall. It had started with his shield, but the others followed as if catching on to the threat as he did. That made sense. It was all deep mind stuff, so when his friends saw him reacting to a threat, they did too. If without having thought about it at all.

  “Nanos?” He gave the very young looking Ancient girl in front of him a hard stare.

  “Genetically modified viruses, not an attack at all. They simply cause a person to feel peaceful. A temporary effect that would last no more than three days. It isn't meant as an assault. It's just that your people are very aggressive and warlike. Plus, you in particular are probably feeling more than a little tense. Call it a bit of insurance, one that obviously isn't going to work. So, my name?” She looked like she struggled to remember something finally she spoke, her voice still far away.

  “Lara Gray. Now just called Gray. I had you brought here because I need you to do something for me. It's nothing all that big, I need you to carry a letter for me. To Austra. It must arrive in four months time and be handed directly to Glost Serge the Prime Minister there. It must go with you, or Burks Green, and honestly I think your personal odds of survival are higher, but I can't promise anything there. Don't tell Burks I said that though or he'll insist that he's the only one that can do the job. Will you do that for me?” With barely a movement a letter on fine, thick paper, folded in three pieces and tied with leather, appeared in her right hand. She passed it to her left, a slow and careful movement, and stretched a little to hand it to him.

  After a long pause Tor took it. Nothing happen, but he knew that it was a trick of some kind. If not one meant for him than for someone else. Probably. Glost Serge… he'd heard the name before. A schoolboy that had tried to kill his mother?

  Tor spoke without setting the question up.

  “Is that a family thing do you think? Everyone always trying to kill us for stupid reasons?” Rolph sat next to Sara and his sister, Trice next to Kolb and Wensa. Ursala bumped shoulders with Bonita, which was chummier than he'd thought they'd gotten, but then he'd been distracted. Lara tilted her head a little before speaking.

  “I sometimes wonder. People have tried to kill me hundreds of times, and I can only think of about four that had valid reasons in the whole bunch. The most common being fear from a person that can't admit they're afraid. Anyway, that's what I want done and why I asked you here. So if that's out of the way, tell me about my daughter. If the letter isn't out of the way, please deal with that now.”

  It was his mother’s voice and bossy tone, but magnified over time into something bitchy and off-putting, lacking the basic politeness Tor expected to find there, even as her voice lilted and sounded basically sensible. Not really friendly or playful, but businesslike while, clearly looking down at him for some reason. Burks didn't do that, so it wasn't just an effect of being old, Tor didn't think. No, this was just her.

  Right. Well, going to the heart of an enemy power during a war, that seemed reasonable, didn't it? He nodded slowly to show thought, wondering if he'd really do it. It didn't seem likely, but a lot could change in four months.

  Nodding again he smiled gently.

  “I won't promise it, but if I think it can be done without getting me killed or hurting anyone, I'll try. If that's not good enough, then… I'm sorry?” It was, he hoped, a diplomatic and honest answer.

  At least the Ancient woman nodded back.

  “That's fine. I'm not trying to send you on a suicide mission. It's just a note that may help my daughter in time. Or not. It's all I have to give in the way of aid to her right now. We don't fight here you know.”

  Tor suspected that kind of aggression had been genetically removed from the people. They didn't fight… and they couldn't. What protected them from invaders he wondered? Or Tellerand missionaries. They were legendary for going where they weren't wanted and demanding that other people change their traditions and beliefs to match their own. He didn't have a chance to say anything about it, or ask, because Lara Gray started to ask questions about Laurali one right after the other. Obviously the conversation had changed, even if he wasn't ready to leave the current topic yet.

  “Yeah, well if you want to know what she looks like, imagine you about ten years older looking. Or change and go look in a mirror, that should do it. Her hairs short right now though. Personality wise? She’s a bit… darker than you really, seems a little more sane most of the time, but she has her moments, oddball things… She doesn't seem to hate men as much as you do, but she does tend to act like were all a little dumber than we actually are. Is that part of your pattern? Genetics I mean? Eleven kids, which is too many, but seems to be to her personal plan, not an accident. I don't know what to say other than that.” It was his mother. What could he say?

  You didn't insult your mother openly, especially to your grandmother.

  A lot more could be said, it seemed, because if he wasn't asked three hundred questions in the next three hours… His butt fell asleep on the cushion and his legs started to tingle. It should have been fascinating, but this older version of his mother, with her vast experience was… strange and rude. Off-putting. Not just to him either. That could easily have been expected just based on the resemblance to his own mother. There was a constant feeling that she was just barely able to put up with Tor as a person and the other men clearly angered her even more with their presence. It wasn't anything she said, exactly. Mainly in the tense way she ignored them and seemed irritated by everything they said or did. Even when they had additional information she wanted and asked for.

  Rolph jovially recalled speaking to Laurali and Douglass not two we
eks before, how pleased Lara's daughter was with Tor and what he'd managed to accomplish, and her other children. How Timon was going to start school the next year at the new Printer Academy, even though he would be only twelve then, and Tiera was to go to Lairdgren the year after.

  The Ancient looked like she wanted to backhand the Prince where he sat. It was obvious enough that he gave her a strained smile and stopped speaking after only a minute or so, his words tapering awkwardly. A bit later talking about the river placement, Kolb produced a map and pointed to what he meant in his description of where things were to be placed. Lara sighed loudly, and asked him to stop nattering, because the ladies were trying to discus important matters. Kolb folded up the map and put it away, his ire obviously up at least a bit, easily seen by the tense set of his jaw and shoulders. After that things just kept getting worse.

  She kept it up the whole time, not sparing any of the men at all and saying derisive things about them as if they were too dumb to notice it. If she'd been drinking they could have written it off, maybe, but her tea smelled like leaf water, nothing stronger and she didn't slur her words or anything of that nature, she just kept on insulting the men.

  Even the women with them started to get worked up after a while, shifting uneasily and going pale several times, like when she implied that the Prince might be mentally defective, or that Kolb's best possible service to the world would be learning to sew and service his wife in bed. Finally Tor knew he had to either leave now and go back to the ship for the night for some sleep, or go and leave, never to come back. Hopefully his own mother aged more… sanely. This woman in front of him seemed almost like she wanted to push them into going to war or at least into killing her.

  It was looking close to that really. And she wondered why people always tried to kill her?

  No wonder the whole land was messed up, if she'd been riding men like that for millennium non-stop. She wouldn't have been happy breaking their spirits either, she wouldn't rest until she broke their very patterns, which had probably been what happened to them all. Finally, almost reluctantly, Tor had to call her on it. It wasn't polite or kind of him, or very diplomatic, but it needed to be said for his own peace of mind. Besides, She'd basically been declaring war on Noram for over an hour by insulting Rolph like that. Kolb may be mad, and Tor felt a little put out himself, a lot really, but saying things like that about the heir to the throne was insanely stupid. Rolph kept his cool, but it was starting to become difficult to ignore.

  “I'm sorry, but you really have some incorrect ideas about men Lara. Real ones I mean, not ones broken by your genetic tampering to sap their will and damage their intelligence so that you can live in your little fantasy world where you and your “daughters” live the perfect life. I have to tell you that if you degrade and deride even ten percent of your population as a culture, then your culture is ill and going to fail in the end.” His voice was, surprisingly enough, calm and matter of fact, not angry or pissy sounding.

  She looked shocked. Like he'd thrown his beverage at her or tipped the table over.

  “What? I don't know what you’re talking about. Men are treated as total equals here.” The list she gave them, describing what men did to prove her point, was a joke. The home making and child rearing parts were the highlight. Really the only valid work they were allowed. Even their hobbies were controlled to a degree that made him squirm. Knot tying? Most of the men practiced decorative rope work… Not a bad thing, but it was almost all they were allowed to do for fun, that and weaving goat silk or tending the herds.

  “You honestly can't see it? Just totally blind to it? Right in front of you and…” Tor waved a hand in front of his own face, past his eyes. “Nothing? You've led an entire part of the world to hate an entire gender, and I mean to the point of severely abusive behavior and it isn't that you justify it, or try to explain, you can't even see that you’re doing it at all? I'm certain you aren't stupid, probably the smartest person in Afrak… so… are you insane? Have you simply lived so long in your own world, one of your personal making, that you can't understand that things could be done differently?”

  Tor rose and began to walk out.

  “I can't change your culture, or order you to respect your own people, but I can insist you don't insult people, men in this case, who came across half the world to help you do something you haven't managed on your own for a thousand years or more. If you can't bring yourself to apologize to mere men for your behavior, we'll just leave in the morning.”

  Tor dropped the letter on the table and walked out. If she'd just insulted him he could have swallowed it, but she'd been insulting his friends. By insulting and questioning Rolph like that, she was insulting Noram directly too. If what they had to offer wasn't worth basic politeness, then they could leave. Maybe go to Soam. They were supposed to be incredibly polite there, if a little odd. Whatever, it would work out. Tor started setting up his carriage so Kolb, Wensa and Trice did the same. They were all pushing the size limits of the craft, but it would work.

  “Court Jester! Court Jester! Tor! Wait, please! I… I came to apologize for the elder, the old sometimes forget their manners, things change and they fail to adapt, I… don't want to lose the rivers. No one else in the world has them or anything close at all. Without them this project won't start, possibly not for another thousand years.” Her voice was plaintive and he thought of her as a friend, but the matter wasn't about her at all. So he had to shake his head.

  “Mutta, you don't even think I made the rivers, do you? You can just go to Noram and find the woman who did then, and ask her couldn't you?” His tone wasn't accusing, just suggestive, as if it were a real option instead of basically telling her to go on a wild goose chase. He was tired of these people already though. Who brought someone across the world to do things for them and then just insulted them, over and over again?

  His own family apparently.

  Lovely.

  Violence not happening there or not, she still clenched her fists in frustration. Tor looked at her and then at her hands. Finally she looked down and gasped slightly, clearly embarrassed by her own implied threat. Tor shrugged.

  “It's never fun to hear you and your whole culture has holes in it. They all do, just like everyone has weak spots. But… seriously, you've seen our culture and how women are treated and you saw that in there. Do you think we can be anything but insulted right now? Wouldn't you be? Tell me that if the roles were reversed you'd have been fine with it, and mean it, and I'll get up in the morning and go start working on those rivers, even if no one else will.” Arms crossed and head tilted he waited for a denial or more protests, something.

  Instead she sighed.

  “Have you ever tried leading a stubborn most Ancient being around and make her apologize? She's never been like this before, not even with the Tellerand, and they're hard to deal with, always insisting others pray and fast as they do and take up their ways. Please… Court Jester, give me some time to get to the bottom of this before you leave? I've worked too hard, for my entire life, to have a fit of anger ruin it now, yours or hers. I'll make her apologize. Can you meet us here in the morning before you ready to go? I'll be going with you to set up the rivers.” The voice went matter of fact then. Confident as if she knew for a fact that Gray would be doing as she'd promised.

  Everyone else stood around looking at them, Rolph had good control of his face, but Karina and Trice looked ready to hit someone and Wensa actually fingered her weapons in the small cloth pouch on her right hip. One of the male Royal Guards held a force lance in his hand and faced a growing crowd of women, no, Tor realized there were men too, peeking shyly from the back of the group, looking at them through their long lashes. There were men here, it was just that they were all so docile, so gentle, that he mistook them for women.

  A prejudice of his own? Probably. Tor would have to reconsider his thinking on the topic then. After all he knew Wensa, Trice and Karina… and all the women with Kolb, those in the Royal G
uard, even the Queen… Most of the women he knew were anything but docile.

  Fine, he'd fix himself then.

  Take the person for who they were alone. It wasn't the easiest way to do things, but who ever said the easy way was best?

  Nothing wrong with not being an overbearing jerk, of course, and he couldn't fault the men here for being what Lara and her family had created. That he was her family too bothered him a little. She was overbearing, pushy about it and couldn't see that her own way might not be the only way. In other words, she was his mother.

  Tor winced visibly, which caused half the people behind him to tense up and ready themselves to fight and Mutta to take notice. The crowd missed it all, but then, as pointed out, they didn't have violence. A single Noram child with a stick could have cowed the whole lot of them without even landing a blow.

  “Fine. We'll be here in the morning and ready to go to work. I won't really insist that your life's work hinge on the whims or convoluted plans of my own grandmother, but… seriously Mutta… she tried to infect a peaceful delegation with something, including two members of the royal family! I'm kind of surprised that Wensa and Kolb didn't kill her on the spot. That's an act of war, you know that don't you? She needs to do something to make that right. I'd suggest vast amounts of bowing and scraping. She's old enough to have gotten past her own ego by now, if not I suggest she learn quickly.” Sighing he shook his head.

  “I'm the wrong person for this job aren't I? She's basically my own mother and you know, I love my mother, but she isn't always the easiest person in the world. That has to be in her field pattern too, because Lara is exactly the same! Only worse. Frustrating old bat. And yes, feel free to tell her I said all that. If she wants to fight with me over all this, that's fine, we're family and have to put up with each other, but taking off after Prince Alphonse was stupid and taunting Kolb… well, just point out to her that it was a mistake and she should know better.”