Jade legacy, p.64
Jade Legacy, page 64
Slowly, however, he’d reemerged. Perhaps it was because he and Wen leaned on each other so much in their mutual grief. The rest of the family would see them walking around the estate, or eating at the patio table in uncharacteristic silence, or going to Widow’s Park together to visit the family memorial. Or perhaps Niko’s return to the family drew Hilo back to life; instructing his nephew in the skills of clan leadership forced the Pillar to return to his responsibilities in a way that felt personal and necessary. Over time, he began to smile again, to train, to attend to clan affairs.
And he took a gradual interest in things that hadn’t interested him before. Without any prompting, he gave a large endowment to the Charitable Society for Jade Nonreactivity. He donated to the Janloon public school board and paid for a new auditorium at Jan Royal University. Although he was well known for avoiding politicians, he unexpectedly appeared before them, sometimes with Wen by his side, to voice his support for legislative proposals that he’d never previously deemed to be important: A bill to prevent employment and pay discrimination against stone-eyes and those with mixed blood. A return of thousands of hectares of traditional tribal land to Abukei control. A limited allowance for the Kekonese military to use medical-grade SN2 in conjunction with its training programs, and to lower the threshold of martial education required of adult recruits into the Golden Spider Company—measures proposed by Jim Sunto fifteen years ago that Hilo and nearly everyone else had opposed at the time, but were now being reconsidered given the gradual destigmatizing of shine.
Some observers, particularly those aligned with the Mountain, muttered that the Pillar of No Peak was growing soft, pandering to the sentiment of jadeless reformists because he kept too many close advisors who were not typical Green Bones, or not Green Bones at all. Others praised the clan for being in touch with current social concerns and setting an example of philanthropic leadership.
Anden knew the truth. His cousin did all these things for Ru. All of Ru’s social causes, the arguments he used to make to his father about the good the clan could do, the things he’d wanted Hilo to care about that his father had humored or ignored—they had taken on a different meaning. Now they were deeds Hilo could do for Ru that he had not done during Ru’s short life, that would’ve made Ru proud of his clan and happy to be a Kaul—the only way left for Hilo to prove he still loved his son.
“Uncle Anden.” Maik Cam came up to Anden, perhaps noticing him mulling his plastic cup of hoji too seriously. Kehn’s son was proudly sporting a new jade ring and three new beads on a platinum chain—understated and professional, a good look for a young lawyer. He’d won his latest spoils in a recent duel against a disgruntled member of the Mountain clan who’d not taken well to the filing of a trademark infringement case. Cam had all the famous greenness of his father’s family but his scholastic leanings came from his mother, Lina, a teacher. He touched his forehead in casual salute and said, “Thanks again for overseeing my duel. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re fast with the blade,” Anden complimented him. “I’m glad you won. I’d much rather be patching up your opponent than you.”
Under new laws, clean-bladed duels required the presence of at least two witnesses, one from each side, along with someone with emergency medical training. As the most prominent Green Bone physician in the No Peak clan, Anden’s schedule was peppered with requests to attend contests. That was not the only change to dueling custom. A twenty-four-hour waiting period was now required between the issuing of the challenge and the fight itself. Only Green Bones were allowed to duel using moon blades or talon knives, and there were limits as to how much jade a combatant could take from an opponent who conceded defeat.
Previous attempts to place restrictions on the tradition of clean-bladed dueling had always failed. The shocking difference this time was that Kaul Hilo had publicly supported reform. He even went so far as to admit that some of the many duels he’d fought in his life had not been strictly necessary. Green Bones, he said, could gain combat experience and earn jade with less injury and death, and jadeless citizens should be encouraged to try to solve disputes in other ways. His own son, Hilo declared, might be alive today if he’d not felt the need to duel, or if the duel had been delayed or better controlled.
The Pillar’s astonishing shift in position had caused fierce debate in the Green Bone community, but even the traditionalist Koben family couldn’t argue against it without seeming ridiculous, as Hilo had fought more duels and won more jade in his life than any of them. The Pillar wielded his will toward the issue with the same amiable, dangerous persuasiveness with which he ran the clan, so what he wished for happened quickly.
Cam grinned. “The other fellow could’ve beaten me if he wasn’t so exhausted from dealing with our lawsuit,” he said, managing to be both polite and cleverly self-aggrandizing at the same time. Cam was burly and broad-shouldered, as tall as his father had been, but unlike Kehn, he had a quick smile and sense of humor. “Where’s Jirhu?” he asked Anden. “Is he not here tonight?”
“No,” Anden said. “This is…” He glanced around at the gathering. “A bit too much of a clan occasion for his liking.” He and Jirhuya had come to a long-standing compromise. Anden’s boyfriend came to Kaul family gatherings, where he got along with everyone despite being a little more reserved than usual, but he avoided large No Peak clan functions. Jirhu faithfully wore a ring of bluffer’s jade on his right thumb and did not hide their relationship, and he was accepted by the Kauls because of his importance to Anden, but he was not associated with No Peak in any other way.
Over time, Anden had come to appreciate what had initially seemed to him to be Jirhu’s unreasonable concerns about the optics of patronage. In fact, he was thankful his boyfriend’s career and daily concerns had nothing to do with the world of Green Bones. Jirhu was a refuge from the clan. He listened to Anden’s troubles and encouraged him but never pressed for details or demanded explanations about clan affairs. In return, Anden didn’t pressure Jirhuya to interact with No Peak beyond what he was comfortable with, not even picking up the phone to solve a simple problem through a Kaul family contact rather than accomplishing it some harder way on his own.
“Niko,” Cam called out, and motioned his cousin over to join them. Seeing Cam, Niko’s face relaxed into a smile. He came over and embraced both Anden and Cam warmly and let Cam refill his cup. Despite his size and tough looks, Cam was naturally gifted at putting people at ease. Whenever the cousins were together, he seemed to bring out a different side of Niko. “Where’ve you been hiding, keke? The Juens want to know when we’re all going to train together again.”
“We’re a couple of suits now, Cam,” Niko said. “The Juens will destroy us.” The twins, Ritto and Din, were both first-rank Fists.
“That’s what they think too,” Cam said, glowing with eagerness to put his newly acquired jade to use. “We should do our part to keep our clan’s Fists from getting too cocky.”
Anden left his nephews to continue their conversation and went over to Hilo and Shae. “Where did all these young people come from, Andy?” Hilo wondered. “It’s barely past midnight and I’m tired as fuck. Let’s sneak out together so it looks like we’re talking about important clan issues.” He put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder and they made their way toward the elevators. Anden smiled, and when Hilo said, “What is it?” he shook his head and said, “Nothing, Hilo-jen. It was a good evening.”
The world came crashing down in the form of a simple newspaper clipping that Shae read while waiting for her daughter’s dance practice to finish. Behind the studio’s soundproof windows, the girls leapt and twirled in flowing silks to music she couldn’t hear, but Shae sat immobilized, a deafening roar building in her ears.
The Euman Deal.
Shae’s ordeal with the Faltas had given her lasting emotional scars and ruined her jade tolerance, but it had also left her with a burning question, the only one the barukan captors had asked her that she had not been able to answer: What is the Euman Deal? Tell us about the Euman Deal. She shuddered and felt tendrils of panic crawl over her every time she thought about it, yet the demanding questions came back to her, swimming into her waking nightmares, taunting her years later.
What’s the Mountain’s big plan? You’re the fucking Weather Man of No Peak, you know what Ayt is up to, don’t you?
She’d investigated all the Mountain’s tributary businesses and assets connected to Euman Island. There was not much: a few properties in the town center, an upscale escort service catering to foreigners, a shipyard. She could find no evidence that any of them might be part of a major deal with the barukan.
Euman Island was best known for the Espenian naval base. Had the Mountain struck a secret alliance with the ROE military? Ayt Mada’s relationship with the Espenians was hostile to nonexistent, so it seemed unlikely—though not impossible. But Shae could not find any sign that Ayt Mada was in contact with the ROE government. If she was, Ambassador Lonard and Colonel Basso would’ve gone to the Mountain instead of No Peak to ask that the protestors be run off.
We know they’re cutting in the Matyos somehow. That was what the Faltas had said. The Matyos are moving money to the Mountain. What are they getting for it?
That part, at least, No Peak’s spies had been able to verify. The Matyos barukan were moving millions of Shotarian sepas into overseas bank accounts. Shae’s informers had long ago told her that Iwe Kalundo, Weather Man of the Mountain, was divesting the clan’s businesses in Ygutan. Perhaps that was simply because he didn’t want Mountain capital tied up in a country that was losing the Slow War and sliding into political instability, but it seemed the clan was still sitting on the proceeds and not reinvesting them elsewhere. It was not like Ayt to be passive. The Mountain and the Matyos were building up a joint hoard of cash and liquid assets. For what purpose?
Niko had told her that both Jim Sunto and the CEO of Anorco, Art Wyles, had part-time homes near GSI’s training compound on Euman Island. Perhaps the Euman Deal had something to do with those foreigners. Hilo and Lott Jin already had No Peak spies planted in Sunto’s organization, but they hadn’t investigated Wyles directly. Shae had dug up every bit of information she could about the man. She had the clan’s branch office in Port Massy keep an open file on him, informing her every time he appeared in the news. Now Shae was looking at an article from yesterday’s Port Massy Post, the story clipped, photocopied, and faxed along with other memos and reports.
The article was short. It announced that Art Wyles, newly appointed secretary of Foreign Trade, had tendered his resignation as president and CEO of Anorco Global Resources. Although he was not required by law to do so, he would be selling his controlling share to an unnamed private Kekonese investment firm. The article ended with a statement that Anorco was valued at sixteen billion thalirs and the conglomerate’s assets included proprietary offshore bioenergetic jade mining technology and Ganlu Solutions International, a private military company. The deal would close in ninety days.
The Euman Deal.
In the dance studio, the class ended. The girls saluted their teacher and began to mill about, chatting as they gathered their bags and shoes. Tia stayed behind with another student to practice a section of their routine, leaping with such height and elegance that she seemed on the verge of Lightness. She had all the natural athleticism of a Green Bone’s daughter, channeled toward warmth and imagination.
Normally, Shae would get up and gather Tia’s belongings, waving from the window to remind her that they had to get home for dinner, but she remained on the bench, a slow panic beginning to crawl over her as all the pieces fell into place.
The “private Kekonese investment firm” cited in the article was the Mountain clan. The proceeds from the sale of Ygutanian assets, combined with money from the Matyos, would be used to conduct the Mountain’s largest-ever acquisition. Ayt Mada would take over Anorco and become the owner of her own jade mining company, with technology and assets completely separate from the Kekon Jade Alliance and beholden to no one. She could supply jade to military forces and other organizations around the world with no oversight from other clans. She would also gain control of GSI, which had jade-wearing soldiers, training campuses, helicopters, weapons, and gods knew what other military assets. Anorco and GSI had offices, personnel, and assets in Espenia, so in one swoop, the Mountain would leapfrog No Peak’s presence in the ROE. The passage of the bill repealing the ban on jade, which Shae had pursued doggedly for so many years, would now, ironically, benefit the Mountain clan more than anyone else.
In exchange for their financial partnership in the Euman Deal, Ayt Mada would give the Matyos enough jade and military power to assert complete dominance over the Shotarian underworld, especially in East Oortoko, which was rife with organized crime in the wake of Ygutan’s diminishing control. She would not only make peace but cement the loyalty of the barukan factions in her clan alienated by the Kobens.
Tia came out of the studio. “I’m starved,” she exclaimed as she put on her shoes. “What’s Da going to make for dinner?” When Shae stood without answering, her daughter looked up at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Tia-se,” Shae murmured. “Just… thinking about work.”
They walked out to the car, one of Shae’s bodyguards following and opening the door for them. Ever since she’d stopped wearing jade, she had to put up with having personal security at all times. On the drive home, Tia talked about rehearsals for the school play, her upcoming math test, brand-name jeans she wanted to buy. Shae wasn’t able to hear any of it. She was thinking that Ayt’s acquisition of Anorco would be lauded as a great national victory, a repatriation of Kekonese resources from the hated foreign offshore mining company that thousands of people were protesting against at this very moment.
Public support for the Mountain clan would surge during a year of Royal Council elections. Assuming that all the newly districted seats in Lukang went to politicians loyal to the tributary Six Hands Unity clan, the Mountain was poised to control a commanding majority of the Royal Council, something neither clan had been able to accomplish for years. With so much power—military, financial, political—Ayt would install the successor she preferred. She would no longer need the Koben family’s numbers or popularity. Iwe Kalundo’s grand accomplishment as Weather Man would provide ample justification for her to bypass her nephew and name her loyal second-in-command the next Pillar of the Mountain, ensuring her will continued to prevail.
How had she done it? Shae wanted to scream the question. How had Ayt coerced the Espenian business tycoon Art Wyles to sell his multibillion-thalir conglomerate? What leverage did she have that would force Wyles to surrender his business empire, his claim to Kekonese jade, his Truthbearer’s commitment to Operation Firebreak? It could not be anything so simple as the threat of death. She had clearly been planning this for years.
Shae was rendered speechless with awe. She should’ve read the clouds. Ayt Mada was simply a better Weather Man than she was, a master strategist on a level she couldn’t hope to match. Where others sought honor or vengeance, Ayt sought only control.
“Ma? Ma, are you listening? Are you sure you’re okay? You look like something’s bothering you.” Tia was looking at her with pouting concern.
Shae felt an ache in her chest, the opening of a chasm. This was what it meant, to not send her daughter to the Academy, to not raise her as a Green Bone. Tia lived in a bubble of ordinary preteen concerns. Even when she was older, she would never fully understand her own parents, or the rest of her family.
“I’m sorry, it’s… clan things. Nothing for you to worry about,” Shae said as the car pulled up in front of the Weather Man’s house. “Go wash up for dinner.”
Tia ran inside, dropping her bag by the door and shouting hello to her father as she went up the stairs. Shae followed slowly. The house smelled of garlic and spices and cooking meat. Woon came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “I didn’t oversmoke the duck this time,” he said proudly. Woon had barely cooked anything before the age of fifty but was now far more skilled at it than her. Seeing her expression or Perceiving her churning emotions, he stopped, the smile sliding off his face. Shae went to her husband and put her arms around him, laying her head against his broad chest without a word.
It didn’t matter how quickly No Peak grew or how strong its warriors and businesses were. It could not compete against such overwhelming weapons. Ayt Mada would finally destroy the Kaul family and take the No Peak clan. It might be quickly orchestrated, or it might simply be a slow, inexorable defeat. Either way, the outcome was not in question.
It’s over, Shae thought. Ayt’s won. We’re finished.
“We’re not finished until we’re all dead,” Hilo said.
Shae had called an immediate meeting. The leadership of the No Peak clan was gathered in the Pillar’s study in the Kaul house. When Shae had been a child, this room had seemed huge and intimidating. Her grandfather, his Weather Man, and his Horn would sit in leather armchairs, smoking and discussing clan affairs, sometimes late into the night.
Now, the study seemed intimate and conspiratorial. Hilo sat slouched in the largest armchair, tapping the edge of a playing card against his thigh. He had them lying around all over the place to keep his hands busy whenever he felt the craving for a cigarette. Lott was standing next to the flat-screen television. Wen and Shae shared the sofa, and Anden occupied the remaining armchair. Shae had explained all of her conclusions to them, laying out every aspect of Ayt Mada’s master stroke. “It’s a brilliant and elegant plan,” she admitted.
