by Patty Jansen
The Andrahar Traders leave Miran? That would be the day the city ended. "I'm not sure if this would be such a good place." Considering what she'd just found out about the Barresh council, it might be a worse place to be than Miran.
"Don't think about today, think about the future." He held up his finger. "This will be an excellent place. Mark my words, Barresh will have the future. It is nothing now, but wait a couple of years, and it will be a very different story."
Sadly, she had to agree with him. "I don't understand who is in charge of this town. Yes, there is the council and the guards, but they seem to come from all kinds of different places, not just locals."
"The Barresh council went through some major changes last year. Previously, they had a family and class-based system like Miran's, and only the keihu section held positions of power. After the changes, all sections of the population have seats on the council, including the non-natives. It's an interesting concept that other places with mixed and large transient populations could learn from."
"But who pays for all these new buildings? Because Barresh used to be a Mirani protectorate and got its money from Miran. Now that the Mirani army is gone, I had expected Barresh to be poor."
"Each family contributes according to their abilities."
"There must be some pretty rich families here, judging by their transport." That Gazion that still sat in the private aircraft space at the airport and continued to bug her.
"You have sharp eyes." He laughed. "That one belongs to Daya Ezmi. He has made Barresh home, and yes, for now holds the position of Chief Councillor of Barresh."
She had never heard the Chief Councillor's last name. "Ezmi? How did he end up with that name?" Like Ydana, all Coldi at Hedron were from the Ezmi clan, and the tendency to only use first names in public life was Coldi. But this man was definitely not Coldi, and like the Mirani Endri, Coldi didn't crossbreed with any other type of people.
"Yes, he's a compatriot of mine. I'm surprised you haven't heard of him. He's styled himself into the leader of the free zhadya-born movement."
The what?
"You haven't heard of them either?"
She shook her head. His air of incredulity annoyed her. She might agree with him that the Mirani council's hostility to foreigners was not helpful, but she didn't subscribe to his brand of everything Miran does is stupid either. He hadn't always been that way either. She remembered him being in Miran, dressing as a local and looking happy and relaxed. Maybe he had changed more than her aunt.
"For a long time, and I'm talking hundreds of years, and possibly more, there has been a group of children born from Coldi parents who were different. They are smaller, sickly and usually died a few days after birth. The ones who survived were always completely crazy, and rarely made it to adulthood. If they did, they never had any children. It wasn't until our clan moved to Hedron and these children all survived, that we understood that the problem was that these children don't have the built-in Coldi resistance to heat. In fact, they are not Coldi at all. Most of them used to live in the outer rings of the cities on Asto, in poverty, ignored, often in prison. Out there, people called them zhadya-born.
"It was not until recently that we understood that they are throwbacks to the people who used to live on Asto before the meteorite strike and the New Beginning. In fact, they are the same people as the ones we called the buried children."
Mikandra vaguely remembered being taught the very basics of Asto's history: of the meteorite that obliterated an advanced society, and of the rise of the Coldi people since then. Coldi were artificial people who had survived the disaster where their creators had not, except for very few babies left in life-suspension chambers underneath the earth in Athyl, the largest city on Asto. These babies were the buried children.
"Asto is their home, but they cannot live there," Ydana said. "There are many of these people on Hedron, but even there, they are not well-liked because of their unusual tendency to collect energy in their bodies and release it at the most inopportune moments. A hazard, as you can understand, and they cannot work in an industrial environment—"
"Energy?" She saw a flash across a woman's face in the dark courtyard of the guesthouse in Market Street. Jocassa had said something about it. But that woman had been Pengali, hadn't she?
"A potential in energy, like the Exchange uses, but a lot less powerful. I've seen zhadya-born who are in full control of it and it's most disturbing. Daya is one of them, and never fitted in at Hedron or anywhere else, so he's decided to make Barresh his home. That is where you'll find that a lot of the Barresh council's money comes from: Daya's paid-out inheritance."
When she gave him a puzzled look, he said, "He owns half the Hedron Mines."
"But I thought the mines' owner was Edyamor Ezmi?"
"Correct, and he is the manager. But when the mines' founder Xiya Ezmi died, ownership was divided between both his children: Edyamor and his sister Seveyu, who had to relinquish her inheritance on behalf of her children when she married off-world to Thania Lingui. Daya is her son"
Oh crap, Thania Lingui was the Chief Coordinator of Asto. Daya Ezmi was the son of two very powerful people across the two main Coldi worlds: Asto, their home world and the heavy industry powerhouse of Hedron.
That answered all her questions of where the money came from. And the Gazion, and why there were Barresh guards who looked like elite Asto guards, because they were elite Asto guards and they probably reported back directly to Asto.
"Does that answer your questions?"
She nodded. It more than answered everything. This Daya was a man who was extremely dangerous, who had the money to buy his way into everything, and clear all opposition, including entire nations. Including rivals who had set their eyes on the same woman.
She asked, "Why Barresh?" A man like that could buy anything he wanted. Why Barresh other than that he wanted to annoy Miran and get a foothold into Ceren?
"Why not?"
Oh, how could he say that in such an innocent way? "It's only going to inflame old conflicts."
"Daya could not predict the reaction by the Mirani council, nor the recent spate of anti-foreign decisions."
"But surely, the presence of Thania Lingui's son is what the Mirani council is reacting to, isn't it? He was here before the election. Nemedor Satarin was elected after his defeat in Barresh, and his election victory was based on border-tightening promises. Are you sure this Daya Ezmi didn't cause the two-day war?" Or funded it, and that was why it had been unexpectedly successful. Weapons of fire the soldiers in the hospital had said, with burn injuries likely to have been caused by Asto-made imported weapons.
He gave her a disturbed look. "What makes you think that?"
"When a Mirani Endri girl grows up, the first thing she is told is that her first child is the nation. That she must nurture it and take responsibility for its wellbeing. Barresh was a Mirani protectorate and falls under our responsibility. Picture this: a man who represents an enemy of Miran comes into town, instigates a rebellion of locals that results in the expulsion of the Mirani army. Tell the Mirani council that is not an act of subversion, espionage or plain war."
"Yes, I can see your point, but Daya hasn't done anything of the sort. He is here because he can't live on Asto and doesn't get along with his family, and didn't fit into Hedron either. Besides, he married a woman from this town."
"Someone who was already spoken for."
He frowned. "I don't know anything about that."
"I do. She is the lady Iztho Andrahar wanted to marry."
His frown deepened. "You're sure?"
"As sure as I can be." She decided against mentioning the boy. That toddler was too important for the Andrahar family. "Now Iztho is gone, the Andrahar Traders are facing a trial for importing something that Barresh made illegal but that comes only from Miran, something the Andrahar Traders don't normally deal with. And—"
He gave her a sideways, sharp, look. "What are you suggesting?"
/> "At the moment, nothing, because I have no proof. Except that an important Mirani family is in a lot of trouble, and none of it is of their own making."
"You're saying that the smuggling claims are false and that someone is trying to frame the family?"
Mikandra said nothing, but met his eyes squarely.
He said, "If that is true, it will come out in court."
"I hope so." But only if she or Rehan could find evidence. "Whatever the outcome of the court case, no one in Miran likes this development. Many of us do not agree with what Nemedor Satarin is doing to the city, but that doesn't mean that we're not loyal to Miran. The wounds of the past are deep. There is rarely a day in my family's house that the invasion is not mentioned."
He looked even more disturbed. "But certainly that was—"
"A long time ago, yes, but it has shaped every part of Mirani life. Miran was a beautiful, proud place—still is. People in Miran want progress, but they don't want to have it forced on them from outside. Some people have stronger opinions on this than others. Whether we're Traders or conservatives, progress to us doesn't mean that we'll just walk away from our traditions and give up on them, because giving up is not in our blood."
"I know, I know. I've battled this 'never give up' mentality for twenty-five years." He sighed and met her eyes. "Is there a solution? One that does not involve conflict and hurt to people we love?"
Chapter 23
At night in the guesthouse, Mikandra didn't join in any parties and didn't even join the Kedrasi mother and daughter, because she had already eaten. She sat in the corner of the upstairs balcony with her book and her light, and stared at the pages, seething with anger.
She couldn't stop thinking about Lihan, about how cool he'd been to her when she met him in the Guild building in Miran.
Well, fuck him, to speak with Rehan. She mouthed the obscenity that she had never let cross her lips. Traders had the reputation that they swore a lot. She might as well be true to the cliché.
"Fuck him, fuck him." It felt good to say it.
He hadn't even had the courtesy to tell her that he was getting married. We can still be friends, he had told her. What a load of crap.
Never would she be friends with him again. Never, ever.
She had hoped to transfer to his business once she'd finished the apprenticeship. She'd wanted to work with him and his father, but they had simply abandoned Miran when things became a bit tough.
That was not the way she wanted to live.
She was going to do the apprenticeship with the Andrahars. In Miran. And when she had her licence, she would either work with the Andrahars or separate in her own business and outcompete Lihan in everything.
Fuck him.
She went to bed when most people came into the room, and although she had finished being angry with Lihan, her mind now went over the political situation and Ydana Ezmi's last question. Would there be a way out of the ever-increasing madness of the Mirani boycotts and the council's responses that did not involve conflict? If Asto had its sights on Barresh, could Miran stop them? If Barresh wanted to be independent, could they do so without compromising the security of Miran? If the Mirani chapter of the Trader Guild could not live with the import restrictions and new residency rules, would they all leave Miran, and if they did, could they do so in peace?
She didn’t think any of those things were likely.
There would be more fighting. The Mirani army would continue to try to influence Barresh, gamra would continue with the boycott until something broke in Miran. Until the Traders left, until the huge body of Nikala people in the city were fed up with the lack of everything and staged a revolt against the council. And surely, Asto would continue to make use of that situation to push into Barresh.
Sooner or later, there would be a proper war, not a lame two-day one. Based on technology, there was no way Miran could win. It was in Miran's interest not to let a war happen.
In the darkness of the night, her worries grew into wars that spanned the continent, her fear for her family grew into massacres, until the snowy mountainside was drenched with blood and no one could possibly have survived.
Miran would die. History would be wiped out. A beautiful city would become frozen-over and empty of life.
She was exaggerating, she had to remind her wayward imagination. It wouldn't be like that. The council had more sense than that. The Traders would never leave. Miran would never be so stupid to challenge any other entity in war.
But her mind continued to conjure up ever more horrible images.
When she realised that sleep wasn't going to happen, she got out of bed, ignoring the muffled noises made by some lovers on the other side of the room and took her book of notes downstairs in the courtyard amongst the remains of the night's party. She cleared glasses and bottles off a table and opened her book. The light in the holder above her had almost burned out but gave just enough glow for her to write down all the new things she had learned.
On a blank page, she drew a diagram that showed Barresh as a small circle within Miran. It used to be that the Barresh Exchange operated illegally and every traveller or legal freight had to come through Miran. No more. She drew a line from the Barresh enclave to the left-hand edge of the page to symbolise the direct line out of the city-state.
It used to be that the Barresh council was a group of decadent fat keihu men who had no power because all their decisions had to be approved by the Mirani council. No more. She drew a jagged circle around Barresh to symbolise a real, effective border.
It used to be that the Mirani army sent troops there to "keep the locals under control" but effectively to misbehave with as much decadence as they pleased. It used to be that people from outside couldn't visit Barresh unless approved by Miran.
Now everyone could visit. She drew a lot of arrows into Barresh.
Some of those arrows were from Asto—she drew a little circle in the corner of the page to represent that world and a few arrows from there to Barresh. The page was getting pretty messy by now, and that's what the situation looked like in reality: messy. Barresh was like the leak in the waterbag that was Miran. No matter how much Miran fortified its controls, undesirable people would come in through Barresh.
Why would this man Daya Ezmi set up this group for what-ever-they-were-called-people in Barresh if he wasn't interested in spying into Miran, especially someone who was said to be able to look into other people's minds?
That was a disturbing thought. Anyone in the street could be scanning her on behalf of the Barresh council. They possibly already knew everything about her.
She took a few calming breaths. Well, let's not worry about that, because it would be the end of her.
So.
Iztho.
She drew a little circle on the adjacent empty page.
And his lover.
Another circle.
The lover was in this group of Coldi throwbacks, and Iztho found out things he shouldn't have.
Hmm. What things?
They were either things that the Barresh council did—she drew a circle for the council—or things someone in Barresh did, or things the Asto leadership did in Barresh.
This Daya was Thania Lingui's son.
She drew lots of squiggly lines between Barresh and Asto.
In any case, Iztho, loyal to Miran, had too many fingers of influence with the new power in Barresh and had to be taken out of the picture.
Or something.
Of course, the suggestion that someone had falsified Exchange documents to frame Iztho was just that: a suggestion.
But there was no shortage of people with motives to do this.
She turned over the page and listed them all:
Barresh council
Daya Ezmi
The woman Anmi
Thania Lingui
And then, a bit further down, the ones that were much less likely, but should not be discounted:
Miran council
Nemed
or Satarin
Antho Tussamar and rival Traders
There, that list "only" mentioned the six most important people or groups in the system, or even all of settled space. The more she looked at it, the more it gave her the creeps. If any of these people had done something to frame Iztho, the consequences would be serious and ramifications felt throughout gamra. There would be major conflicts, none of them within her control.
But the most likely people to have wanted Iztho out of the way were the first two. She drew a circle around Barresh council and Daya Ezmi and his woman.
She stared at the page for a while, but it didn't bring her any insights. Then, because it was starting to go light, she closed the book, put it in her bag and went to the Exchange.
Like most days, Rehan was waiting for her by the time she'd settled into her usual cubicle.
There were times when she wondered what else he did in a day and how many people still worked in that office. She wondered if he sat there alone because they couldn’t afford to keep the other staff and because it was too dangerous for them to traverse the streets anyway. She wondered about Trimon and Zimana and what would be a hungry winter for them if Trimon lost his job.
After the usual chat about the weather—it was snowing in Miran—she asked him, Have you ever heard of a group of non-Coldi people born from Coldi parents?
She expected questions, but his reply came back immediately. The Aghyrians. I've heard of them. There are a lot at Hedron.
I hadn't heard that name for them before.
Coldi use the term zhadya-born, but I don't think they like that description. They're not just zhadya-born either. The buried children are of the same people. They are the people of the old Asto city of Aghyr. They call themselves the most powerful people who ever lived. They say that they invented the Exchange and that there would have been no human settlements other than on Asto if it hadn't been for them.