The Sisterhood

by Juanita Coulson

  “The Gevari will not succeed,” the matriarch was saying sternly. “After what they have done, they — and their cause — are no longer an issue. However, much remains to be settled before there is any hope of peace. Hostilities have not ceased.”

  “Have there been any wide-scale attacks by the Green Union of late, Most High?” Renee wanted to know.

  “Not wide-scale, no. But numerous brutal forays in isolated stellar systems.”

  Martil said, “Remember what the Arbiter Renamos explained to you, when last we spoke. That this war encompasses a great deal of distance, and communications are necessarily slow.” He didn’t mention his disdain of the primitive technologies of Niand and the Green Union, which showed tact and considerable restraint on his part. “Keep that in mind when you deal with lingering warfare in your various colonies. As we trust the Green Union will do in their regions of space, when still-belligerent units of Niand’s forces have not yet received word to lay down their arms.”

  “Has the Green Union agreed to the truce the Arbiters have proposed?” Zia wanted to know. Her face was very open, and distrust flared in her pale eyes.

  Chayo didn’t let the Arbiters reply to his sister’s query. He said glibly, “As I observed, from the vantage of the Arbiters’ own worlds, such a truce is indeed being seriously discussed.”

  Discussed. Being weighed and considered.

  A lie. Or at least a distortion of the facts. Chayo had witnessed the successful Arbiters’ mission to the Haukiet leaders. Why was he determined to sit on that info, for the time being? Was he concerned about premature leaks of that news? That made sense to Renee. The Gevari rebels were down, but not yet out. They could seize on this nugget and make one final “kill all the Green Union monsters!” — style strike at the Haukiets’ nerve centers.

  And the peace would fall apart before it could be confirmed.

  In this case, a fast lie might well be the best move.

  But … did Chayo fear a leak here? In his own mother’s HQ? Who was he guarding against? Perhaps someone in that small army of servants and soldiers, peeking at the scene from the boudoir’s various doorways.

  A phrase out of Renee’s past studies popped into her mind: A ruler is rarely, truly alone.

  And plainly Chayo intended to make dead sure that only his mother and sister would hear about the truce. He wasn’t going to spit it all out right now, when there were so many other ears — some of them possibly belonging to spies — waiting for any scrap of info he might drop.

  “Then that is where you have been in this absence?” Matriarch Onedu wondered. “On the Arbiters’ worlds? How was this done? There was no evidence of a spacecraft. I do not understand how these journeys are made. How the Arbiters travel here and there so freely.”

  Chayo pursed his lips. “Nor do I understand the technology, Mother. It is far above our present state of science, as are the Arbiters’ powers.”

  That reminder of the outsiders’ presence — and the earlier mentioned threat of their superweapon — crushed Onedu’s remaining curiosity on that particular score. But she couldn’t resist scolding her son a bit. “I do think you should have notified us, Chayo, that you were alive. Zia and I were devastated, thinking you slain. And you could have warned us when you were returning.”

  Renee stepped in, wanting to spare Chayo the necessity of telling any more lies. “There were reasons. Arbiters’ reasons, Onedu.” She paused, glancing at Martil, waiting to see if he wanted to take over. He didn’t. His sly expression as much as announced that he thought she was doing fine. So far. He might have tons more experience in Arbiter affairs and tons more knowledge in general. But on Niand, he was at a disadvantage, just as Tae was; they had the misfortune to be male. Renee said, “In light of the Gevari’s nearly successful assassination attempts, the Arbiters felt it best to keep strict secrecy concerning our travels. Now that we are back on Niand, we can entrust our safety to you and her Eminence …”

  “Call me Zia, please!” the princess interrupted. Her smile was a lovely veneer. Maybe she felt friendly toward the female Arbiter who’d rescued her brother, but Zia hadn’t warmed up nearly as much as the matriarch had. Still on her guard, and it showed in her face. Unlike Evy, the Niandian princess had no background in putting on what was called a “ghetto face,” the unrevealing mask that told a potential opponent nothing about the emotions within. Why should Zia learn that trick? She’d never been in a subordinate position. Quite the contrary.

  “Zia,” Renee responded politely, nodding.

  “And of course you can depend on our protection,” Onedu added. She and her daughter both extended their hands to the Arbiters. It was an all-embracing gesture, and the older woman spoke for them. “You shall not beg for our shelter in vain. The Mother and the Mother-Sister will shield you from all who might wish you harm.” The matriarch continued in a less formal tone, “And rest assured we will also purge the Gevari from our nest.”

  “Most High, Eminence,” Martil said, “my Lady Renamos must speak to this matter of espionage. Please attend her words.”

  He had rolled out a red carpet, and if she wanted to be treated as a full-fledged member of the team, Renee had to step onto that mat. She felt Tae’s guidance, subtle but strong, and some of her apprehension abated. He and Martil were simply letting her carry the ball right now to underline what they wanted said. It would have more impact, coming from a woman. Renee addressed Onedu and Zia carefully. “Consider: How many persons knew of our journey to the city of Hell-All? It was discussed, if I recall, only within this room, in your presence, and that of certain Niand soldiers.”

  “Vunj and his cohorts!” Zia gasped. The matriarch gaped at her daughter, and Zia went on. “You know intelligence has had its doubts about his willingness to seek a truce. We must insist upon a thorough investigation. Without letting him realize it, naturally.”

  A chill chased up Renee’s spine. She hadn’t formed any love for the general the time she’d met him. But she couldn’t ignore Chayo’s later comments — that General Vunj might well be his father, and Zia’s. Presumably Zia also had her suspicions on that score. And the matriarch’s reaction tended to confirm her children’s guesses about their father’s identity.

  “That will be done, on my command,” Onedu said with obvious reluctance. “We must neglect no avenue in our search for all traitors. Still … it is difficult to accept.”

  “Perhaps there is treason in the general’s ranks,” Renee suggested. “A soldier he trusted with the information, unknowing that the man had Gevari connections.” Onedu pounced on that possibility, though Zia looked dubious. Renee went on. “At any rate, we agree: The matter should be thoroughly examined.”

  “As it will.”

  “Most High,” Martil said, his patience wearing thin. “What of the conference of Niandian leaders? Has it assembled yet?”

  Zia, her tone chilly, answered him. “When we thought Chayo was dead, and that you Arbiters were, plans for the conference were temporarily suspended. Then, the search to root out the Gevari faction triggered a near-civil war on some of our colony planets. We have had much to do, putting down those uprisings.”

  “And the conference?” Martil persisted, a terrier with his teeth in the princess’s leg.

  “Thirteen of our colonial premiers are at present here on the mother world, ready to begin discussion of a truce. Wisi of Corlane, a powerful leader of our largest colonial branch, is due to arrive on Niand today,” Zia said, glowering at the dark-haired Arbiter.

  The matriarch took up the explanation. “Seven premiers who were en route to Niand were forced to turn back to put down Gevari insurrections on their planets. Four of them have since informed me that they are now, once more, free to attend the peace negotiations. I will contact the remaining leaders immediately and command them to begin their journey. However, if they are not able …”

  “Proxies?” Martil asked hopefully. He waited until Onedu and her daughter had mentally converted that int
o something understood in Niandian culture, then said, “We appreciate the problems caused by Niand’s far-flung interests. But is not further insurrection better dealt with after your Federation is finally at peace with the Green Union? Then your enemies can no longer strike at you simultaneously from without and within.”

  Renee recalled Martil’s previous sour put-downs of Niand’s “far-flung” interests, and his scorn of such a comparatively primitive culture. Diplomacy spoke with forked tongue!

  And his mention of the war dredged up other memories, less amusing ones. Watching the Arbiters’ gruesome holograms, the ones with an extra whammy. Her Ka-Een pendant throbbed gently, and Renee sensed that sooner or later, she’d have to participate with Martil and Tae in repeating that same gut-wrenching show for the Niandian peace conference delegates. As the other Arbiter team, the one assigned to the Haukiet empire, had been forced to use that tool to convince shape-shifter warmongers to close up shop, so this team had to convince Chayo’s people.

  It wasn’t a demonstration Renee looked forward to. To participate, she’d have to push her newfound apprentice-Arbiter skills and knowledge hard. And it was going to be damned unpleasant, seeing those awful scenes of carnage — and feeling them so intensely — again.

  Could she help the men use that particular tool? Did she have the necessary training? Had all that forced education during her sleep done the trick? Was that possible, even for the Arbiters’ futuristic technology?

  As if in answer, those scenes of carnage blurred in her mind’s eye, replaced by other images. Three Ka-Eens, and herself, Martil, and Tae possessed by those Ka-Een entities — a team. A team with six members. Apprentice or not, she was in this, up to her neck and higher, if need be. She trusted the little gray-green-gold critters to give her a boost, if called for.

  “There is much wisdom in what you suggest, Martil of the Bright Suns,” the matriarch was saying. “This conflict, it costs my children, my people, too much. The treasure required to maintain the forces is almost incalculable. But the cost in blood and suffering has become past bearing. We have our pride, territorial claims we cannot — we must not! — relinquish easily. But … if there is the slightest chance of compromise, of peace …”

  “Summon your absent premiers home to the mother world, Onedu,” Renee said gently. “Gather your leaders. Let them hear us, and let them decide with you whether it shall be peace or further bloodshed. Do this for your children’s sake, for your citizens are your children, Most High.”

  Niandians. Ordinary beings simply trying to get by. They always took the brunt of these collisions, whether those were between two of Earth’s nations or two vast stellar empires. The little people. For several years, in the life she had known before, Renee’s heart and soul had been devoted to helping those little people. Dammit, someone had to take their part! Otherwise, they continued to get stepped on, ground into the mud. It wasn’t fair! On Earth, or here on Niand. Or even on a Haukiet world, where the green-furred shape-shifters undoubtedly had their own versions of the little people. If for no other reason than to give all of them a break, this conference simply had to come together.

  “Yes. Yes. I will,” Onedu vowed. “You are right. I must. This killing must stop.” The matriarch bent over the arm of her chair, speaking into a mini-communicator that suddenly appeared there, popping into existence. The Niandian monarch’s voice was heavy with sorrow for past agonies as she relayed the orders.

  Renee felt a tug on her emotional strings. She hadn’t felt such caring rapport with an older woman since her own mother had died. This was no place for succumbing to sloppy sentimentality, though. The Arbiters had too much to do. There was no time to waste in getting all gooey affectionate over a woman not even related to her, and an alien woman, at that.

  Sighing, Renee shifted her gaze, and caught Zia staring worriedly at the matriarch. Concerned for her mother’s distress? Or was something else eating at the princess? Zia became aware that she was under the Arbiter’s scrutiny and hastily changed gears, trying to plaster a polite smile on her perfect features. It didn’t work. That was no poker face. Zia didn’t dissemble at all well. She’d never had to learn how. No need for her to adopt a noncommittal, uninformative expression. She wasn’t a member of a sexual or racial minority, playing humble games for the bosses. Zia didn’t even have to bat her eyelashes and pretend fascination with economically powerful but utterly fatuous men. Not on this world, and not with this species. Women here ran the entire show, from bestowing their smiles on a would-be suitor to deciding if a prospective father was worth their cooperation to put something in the uterine oven. Plus Princess Zia was the second-highest-ranking female of her race, a race ruled by a biologically dominant woman.

  “It is done,” the matriarch said, and shut off the chair-arm communicator. “And I have additional news. Wisi of Corlane will be arriving within the hour. She wants to make your acquaintance, Arbiters, if you would be so kind. Would you meet her?”

  Zia perked up, delighted. “Excellent! A deft political move. Wisi of Corlane, Renamos, wields enormous power in our Federation. Her vote at the peace conference will be crucial. If she is favorably impressed with you …”

  Renee darted an inquiring glance at her Arbiter partners. Tae was nodding his approval of the suggestion. Martil was shrugging, not wanting to concede wholehearted agreement on such short notice. “Thank you, Zia. We shall be happy to meet the Esteemed Lady.”

  “And perhaps I can show you a few of Niand’s architectural and cultural achievements, along the way,” the princess went on with growing enthusiasm. “You had no opportunity to view these things on your earlier visit, to our shame.”

  “To the Gevari rebels’ shame,” Renee corrected, smiling. “Chayo, are you coming with us?” Zia bristled at that, as if annoyed. Did she object to her brother butting into an excursion she was hostessing? Sibling rivalry, on a social level?

  The matriarch pressed her son’s hand. “No, Chayo must contact his loyal subjects and give them the gladsome news of his survival. We will arrange a Federation-wide broadcast while you meet Wisi. Do go on. And please enjoy yourselves, Arbiters.”

  Chayo made a fuss over Renee’s hand, kissing it, an act that made Zia raise her delicate eyebrows. “My Lady Renamos, my apologies for not joining the party,” the prince said. “But as my mother has said, I have duties to perform.”

  “Most commendable.”

  Onedu regarded him dotingly. “Chayo has ever been an obedient son. Was he not willing to make the first approach to the Arbiters for my sake? Knowing the dangers, he still took the risks.”

  “Yes, ever the brave gallant,” Zia said brusquely, then gestured to Renee and the men. “If you please, Renamos, will you and your … companions follow me?”

  They did so, leaving Chayo in a whispered conversation with the matriarch. Renee did her own share of whispering, telling Martil, “Fulfilling his end of the bargain, huh?”

  They and Tae were trailing Princess Zia along a palace corridor. Servants scuttled out of their way and armed guards snapped to stiff attention, saluting.

  “Chayo is a useful ally, no argument,” Martil muttered.

  So he backed up Renee’s speculations — that Chayo intended to get in a bit of propaganda during his broadcast to the Niandians. And it was likely he’d throw in some private stuff to impress upon the matriarch just how powerful the Arbiters were. He’d been convinced, thanks to all those tours of the Arbiter worlds Martil and Tae had dragged him to. Now it was Chayo’s job to pass on his discoveries to his people’s absolute ruler.

  Corridor after corridor. Hundreds of wide-eyed, busy servants. Ranks of uniformed soldiers, eager to serve. Finally, Zia led the Arbiters out into a colosseum-size room. The place was jammed with Niandians. All shapes and sizes and a variety of colors. Some had the ivory, butterscotch-colored, or burnt-caramel skin tones Renee had already encountered. Others, though, came in hues she had to hope were natural, and not the product of a hideous diseas
e.

  Petitioners pushed forward as soon as Zia entered. One especially aggressive fat man with a startling mauve complexion fought his way to within touching distance of the princess. “Your Eminence! If you would just look at this trade agreement I’m proposing to the Sush Cluster worlds …”

  “Not now, Deputy Premier,” Zia said, sniffing.

  Other petitioners and favor seekers crowded in. Renee, Martil, and Tae were hemmed in tightly by a cordon of soldiers; the men and the princess did okay, but Renee, much shorter than those three, was beginning to get an attack of claustrophobia. She couldn’t see anything but shoulders and waving hands and Zia’s back, and the air was getting stuffy, here in the middle of the melee.

  “Eminence! The delegation from Taja wishes …”

  “Eminence! The launching of the …”

  “Daughter of Onedu! Her Excellency the sub-matriarch of Esher requests …” That was the fat man, again, screaming to make himself heard over the crowd.

  Zia glanced around nervously. The crush was getting out of hand. There was a noise behind the princess, someone bulling her way through the mass of court favorites. More soldiers appeared, thrusting aside the pushiest of the pleaders, and the matriarch’s ugly servant, Beyeth, edged past the Arbiters, tugging at Zia’s arm. As the guards emphasized the order, Beyeth roared, “Her Eminence will hear your petitions later, at the proper time, during the regular procedural audience.” Her voice was strident, slicing past the babble quite effectively.

  As the hangers-on fell back, Zia started forward again, saying, “I beg your indulgences, my loyal subjects. Duty demands my attention elsewhere at this moment.”

  Renee thought of the “bad cop, good cop” shtick; Beyeth and the princess played that expertly. The servant growled and chased people off while Zia blew verbal kisses, keeping taut the bonds of affection between herself and the Niandians.