Jade War

CHAPTER 5 Every Advantage

"There must be some misunderstanding, Kaul-jen,” said Mr. Enke. The stocky, gray-haired Lantern Man wore a disgruntled frown, and though he was careful to keep his voice respectful, the glower he fixed on Shae from under his bushy eyebrows was indignant. “My company has been the leading commercial real estate developer in Janloon for over a decade. I’ve been a Lantern Man of No Peak for twenty-five years and my family has always paid clan tribute. Two of my sons are Green Bones; one is a Fist who followed your brother when he was Horn and now answers directly to Maik Kehn. How could this contract go to a smaller firm, one that has barely any history with the clan and is not even fully Kekonese?”

“The other company’s bid promised earlier completion at a lower cost,” Shae said from across her desk. “The clan values the loyalty and friendship of our long-standing Lantern Men, but the contract was awarded on the basis of merit.”

Mr. Enke made a sputtering sound of disbelief. Slightly behind and to her left and right, Shae could sense Hami Tumashon and Woon Papidonwa shifting uncomfortably at her words. “I’m not sure how you define merit, Kaul-jen,” said Mr. Enke in a temper now, “but I ask: What is the purpose of the clan if it does not look out for the interests of its most loyal members? Can the friendship of the No Peak clan be so easily broken by unreliable numbers on a piece of paper? Are we not Kekonese anymore, but Espenians, selling ourselves to the lowest bidder?”

“With the Weather Man’s permission,” said Hami, speaking out of turn but clearly intent on reining in the situation, “perhaps we can reach an accommodation.” Shae’s lips tightened, but she nodded, and Hami went on. “Mr. Enke, the clan has to look out for the interests of the country as well as its Lantern Men; we can all agree on that point. Smaller firms should be given a chance to succeed, and foreign investment is good for the national economy. That isn’t to say that No Peak values you and your family’s allegiance any less. In fact, we hope to see your company continue to grow by investing in equipment and personnel. If the Weather Man agrees, we would negotiate a reduction in tribute payments to support you in this.”

Hami looked to Shae, who inclined her head stiffly. “That seems reasonable.”

Mr. Enke did not look entirely satisfied by this concession, but after a few moments of silent consideration, he grumbled, “Very well. I’ve trusted in the clan of the Torch—let the gods recognize him—for too long to let this one unfortunate experience get between us.” The way he eyed Shae made it clear that he did not trust her in the same way. “We’ll take advantage of the lower tribute you’ve extended and do our best to put together a more convincing bid next time.”

After Woon closed the door behind the departed Lantern Man, Shae turned to Hami and said, “Why did you speak without my prompting? You offered him too much prematurely.”

“You appointed me as Master Luckbringer to speak my mind,” said Hami gruffly as he stood and walked to the door. “So I’m speaking my mind now: You mishandled the situation. The Enke family is an old and influential one in the clan. Even if you had good reasons for your decisions, you made them feel disrespected.” He paused and spoke over his shoulder. “Right now, Kaul-jen, you need the support of the Lantern Men more than a hundred million dien of cost savings.” Hami pushed through the door of Shae’s office, letting in a brief wave of noise—ringing telephones and clacking typewriter keys from the cubicles across the hall—before the door closed firmly and the man’s proud jade aura receded down the hallway.

Shae slumped back in her seat. Hami was right; her defensive response to Enke and cold talk of merit had struck the wrong note and forced the Master Luckbringer to step in and offer a solution before she did. She’d come across as a naive young woman, overly influenced by her foreign education, not a properly experienced Weather Man of a Green Bone clan. Finances she understood, strategy and politics she was learning, but clan leadership required managing not only the vast scope of No Peak’s business concerns but the seemingly irreconcilable interests and expectations of its people. “What was I supposed to do?” Shae demanded aloud, hearing the exasperation in her own voice.

Woon didn’t react to her change in tone; they’d worked together closely for too many long, late hours over the past year for her to maintain the same professional demeanor with him as she did with Hami or anyone else in the office tower on Ship Street. The Weather Man’s Shadow looked down at his folded hands, then cleared his throat. “I can only say what I think Lan-jen would’ve done. He would’ve called Mr. Enke into his office and, out of consideration for his status in the clan, given him a chance to match the lower bid. If the Lantern Man couldn’t do so, then he would explain that regretfully he had to give the contract to the other developer, but he’d ask what the clan could offer to help his business become more competitive.”

Shae stared gloomily out the rain-splattered windows. She’d spent the past six weeks grieving her grandfather and almost, for a short while, forgotten how much she missed Lan.

Woon leaned forward in his seat, elbows on knees. “The clan is a big, old ship—powerful but difficult to steer, Shae-jen. I know you want to make changes and improvements, but you should do so carefully. In times of uncertainty, people look for reassurance that they can count on things being done in the way they’ve come to expect. They’ll talk about how you wronged the Enke family. They’re still talking about how you wronged Kowi Don.”

“I won’t run the office on cronyism the way Doru did,” Shae replied, with some heat. “Kowi Don wasn’t qualified to be hired as a Luckbringer just because he’s the son of a councilman.”

Woon inclined his chin. “You’re sitting in that chair because you’re a Kaul.”

He said it simply, with no rancor at all, but Shae winced at the truth. She was well aware that she still had a long way to go to prove herself on Ship Street. The clan had barely escaped destruction last year, and even though the street war had settled into something of a stalemate, the Mountain was larger and remained in a stronger financial position. No Peak was dominant in some sectors, such as real estate and construction, but the boom in housing and infrastructure development that had occurred in the decades after the Many Nations War had slowed; meanwhile, several of the industries where the Mountain held a greater share, such as manufacturing, retail, and transportation, continued their healthy growth. No Peak had to expand operations more aggressively if it hoped to prevail in the long run, and every action Shae took as Weather Man might improve or worsen the clan’s position relative to its enemies. Her voice and shoulders fell. “We need every advantage we can get, no matter how slight,” she insisted. “That’s driving all my decisions, even if some of them upset people.”

“Trust is also an advantage,” Woon said.

“You don’t believe the clan trusts me?”

“You’re extremely hardworking and smart, Shae-jen, anyone can see that,” Woon said, with surprising vehemence for someone normally so soft-spoken. “And you’re a Kaul. So the clan trusts you on those levels. But Lantern Men are loyal to the clan because of what it can do for them, and lately, you’ve been shutting doors instead of opening them.”

Shae sat silently for long moment. Thick clouds laden with spring rain hung over Janloon; from a distance the sky and the sea were the same indistinguishable shade of flat gray-blue. “I’m grateful I have you, Papi-jen.” She meant it. If Lan had not been killed, Woon would’ve been the one sitting in this office as Weather Man, yet he’d devoted himself tirelessly to being the Weather Man’s Shadow, her chief of staff, never expressing bitterness or complaint. Woon was not unusually cunning or clever, he did not have a forceful personality, but like Lan, he seemed made of such a steadfast and dependable fiber that Shae understood why he’d been her brother’s longtime friend and aide. She put a hand on his arm. “It’s been a long day. Go home; no need to wait for me.”

Woon stood, dislodging her hand from his arm, and she Perceived his jade aura pulse with some sudden, stifled emotion. “I have work to do as well,” he said. “Take the time you need, Kaul-jen; I’ll drive you home as usual afterward.” The former Pillarman had left Lan alone on the evening of his murder. He had not gone home early in all his time as her Shadow.

When Woon had gone, Shae went through paperwork at her desk for another couple of hours. Her reflection emerged in the darkening windowpanes as the lights of downtown Janloon came on, transforming the skyscrapers into luminous columns. The phone rang, and she picked up the receiver. “Kaul-jen,” said the slightly nasal voice of Ree Turahuo on the other end, “I’m glad I caught you still at the office. I was hoping we might have a frank discussion between Weather Men.”

Shae put down the report she’d been reading; the phone cord stretched as she pushed her chair back from the table. “Ree-jen,” she said, her voice calm and dispassionate. “What would you like to discuss?”

“Next month, the board of the Kekon Jade Alliance is scheduled to finally reconvene and hold a shareholder vote on whether to recommence national jade mining operations,” Ree said. “How do No Peak and its allies among the minor clans intend to vote?”

Shae said, “The Pillar is considering all the factors. He hasn’t yet made a decision.”

“Come now, Kaul-jen,” said Ree, his voice sharpening, “don’t play games. We all know that your brother leans on your counsel in all these matters. You’re the one making the decision. Do you plan to prolong this needless suspension, or return the country to normal?”

“The mines can begin operations again once all possible measures have been taken to prevent another abuse of power on the part of the Mountain clan,” Shae said. “I haven’t fully determined to my satisfaction if the Royal Council’s reforms are sufficient.” She smiled to herself, wishing she could see or Perceive the other Weather Man’s reaction. A national scandal had resulted when financial discrepancies she’d discovered in the KJA’s records nearly two years ago had revealed that the Mountain had been secretly taking jade above quota behind the backs of the government and the other Green Bone clans. Ayt publicly maintained that negligence and operational issues were to blame, but few people believed that line, even within her own clan. The Royal Council had passed legislation instituting ownership restrictions to prevent the Kekon Jade Alliance from falling under single clan control, mandated annual independent audits, formed an oversight committee, and taken a number of other measures intended to safeguard the country’s jade supply and ensure its transparent management. Meanwhile, for the past eighteen months, the mines of Kekon had sat idle. No new jade flowed into the national coffers; official exports had stopped; thousands of Abukei mine workers had gone on government assistance.

Ree said tightly, “If the vote does not go through, the matter will go back to the Royal Council for gods-only-know how long. We’ll lose out on the upcoming dry season and this terrible disruption to the country’s economy will last another year. Is that what you want?”

“I want the Mountain to be held accountable for its transgressions.” The longer the mining suspension lasted, the longer the public would be reminded of the Mountain’s crimes.

A pause. Ree’s voice changed, took on a shrewd quality. “You will eventually run out of jade to sell to the Espenians. How much can you really afford to empty No Peak’s stores?” In the momentary silence that followed, Shae could picture Ree’s smug expression. “Yes, of course we know you’ve been selling your own reserves, and that’s why the foreigners haven’t yet made a bigger stink. I imagine the Royal Council and the people of Kekon would be interested to know that No Peak is bolstering its finances by selling jade directly to the Republic of Espenia.”

“I imagine our official allies the Espenians would be interested to know about the Mountain’s secret contracts to sell jade to their enemies, the Ygutanians,” Shae replied coolly. “Especially if Espenian soldiers are deployed to fight in Shotar against rebels who’re trained and supported by Ygutan. They’re hardly going to be pleased to see Kekonese jade worn by soldiers on the other side of the battlefield.”

“This is pointless sparring, Kaul-jen,” Ree snapped. “You may believe that it is to No Peak’s advantage to continue dragging out the KJA scandal, but consider our mutual dilemma. The constriction on the jade supply has done nothing but encourage smugglers and raise the rate of violent crime. The people have had enough of bloodshed and economic disruption; they’re worried that the crisis in Oortoko will turn into a war between foreign powers and spread through the region. They expect Green Bones to defend Kekon if that happens—do you think they feel confident we’re doing that, Kaul-jen?”

Shae did not answer.

“We’re not Fists, you and I, who see the world only in black and red,” Ree said. “Neither is my Pillar, though I certainly can’t speak for yours. Ayt-jen proposes a meeting between our clans. One with all the proper assurances.”