Jade War

CHAPTER 13 After the Show

A formal press conference was held two weeks later, the morning after Boat Day, on neutral ground in the Monument District. The grand ballroom of the historic General Star Hotel had hosted foreign heads of state, government officials, diplomats, and dignitaries of all stripes, but Hilo doubted it had ever seen two clan Pillars and this many Green Bones within its four walls. Through the expanse of windows behind the raised platform, one could see the west side of Wisdom Hall, and beyond a row of blossoming trees, the tiered roof of the Triumphal Palace. No one in attendance, including the journalists sitting in the front rows of chairs, could fail to grasp the significance: The announcements being made today were as consequential to the country as anything that came from the official government.

The show was not just for the press and the public, but for the clans themselves. Hundreds of high-rank members of the No Peak clan—Lantern Men, Luckbringers, Fists—occupied the left side of the room. Mountain clan loyalists dominated the right side. A dozen penitents in long green robes stood along the walls and in the corners as peace insurance.

Kaul Hilo and Ayt Mada sat side by side at the raised table. A microphone had been placed in front of each of them. Shae and Kehn sat at a slightly recessed table next to Hilo; Ree Tura and Nau Suen mirrored them on Ayt’s side. The highest leadership of the two largest clans in Kekon, that for nearly two years had striven to destroy each other, were seated together to face the Kekonese people and to declare peace.

Both sides had agreed to have Toh Kita, a well-known news anchor from Kekon National Broadcasting, moderate the press conference. Speaking into the cameras, Toh introduced the Pillars, who needed no introduction to anyone in the room. Then Hilo and Ayt took turns reading aloud the joint statement that laid out the terms of the truce: new territorial jurisdictions, resumption of mining activities under the reformed auspices of the Kekon Jade Alliance, cooperation to combat the escalating problems of shine dealing and jade smuggling. Both Pillars finished by reiterating their duty and commitment not only to the constituents of their clans but to the nation.

A limited number of prescreened questions from the press were submitted and read out to the room by Toh. Ayt was asked what measures she would take within her clan to ensure that “financial oversights” would not occur again. The Pillar of the Mountain replied that she took the concerns of the Royal Council and the public very seriously. Ree Tura had resigned from his post and a new Weather Man would be appointed within the month. Hilo was unsurprised at this; Ree himself did not react in the slightest. He was near retirement anyway, and had no doubt expected to figuratively fall on his sword for the clan.

A question was posed to Hilo. “Kaul-jen, with today’s agreement, are you hereby declaring that you will no longer seek personal vengeance for the death of your brother?”

“There’s been death on both sides,” Hilo answered. “My grief isn’t any less, but I know that vengeance is not what my brother or my grandfather—let the gods recognize them—would want the clan to be focused on. We have to move on.”

It was not, strictly, an answer to the question, and this was noticed by the Fists in the room who knew Hilo well. But Shae and her people had prepared extensively for this event, and it was perhaps a sign of experience gained on both their parts that the Pillar was staying so unerringly on script.

The final question asked if the Pillars had anything to say about the current crisis in Oortoko and whether they felt the geopolitical tension between Espenia and Ygutan put Kekon in danger. “The interference of foreign powers in Shotar is deeply concerning,” Ayt said. “Although we stand by our long alliance with the Republic of Espenia, we must make it clear that we will not be taken advantage of by any nation.”

“Kekon is an island surrounded by bigger countries, and we’re the only place in the world with jade,” Hilo said. “We’ve always been in danger. But we’ve always had Green Bones.”

On the face of it, the Pillars sounded very much in accord as Toh brought the press conference to a conclusion. Onstage and in view of all the spectators and cameras, Kaul Hilo and Ayt Mada stood at the same time and, facing each other, touched clasped hands to their foreheads, saluting each other with all respect. As Hilo met the other Pillar’s steady stare, a moment of almost amiable congratulations passed between them: They’d both played their parts well. Their jade auras burned against each other like hot coals and molten steel.

Tar and Woon were waiting to escort them away from the stage. Woon put a steady hand on Shae’s back and guided her toward the rear exit where their cars were waiting, but Hilo paused along the way to speak to Chancellor Son Tomarho. The corpulent politician looked pale and overworked these days; he appeared to have gained even more weight and he wheezed a little as he caught up to the Pillar. Son’s time as head of the Royal Council had been plagued by clan violence, economic concerns, and now international military escalation and foreign pressure. While ostensibly representing the interests of the common people, the overwhelming majority of councilmen were affiliated with one of the major clans; for two years, open war between No Peak and the Mountain had bred a tense and factional political environment in which the tide of political fortune might be swayed by the outcome of street battles between Green Bones. Trying to lead such a divided political body was surely not good for one’s health. Son had less than two years left in his six-year term, and Hilo suspected the man was already looking forward to leaving office.

“Chancellor,” Hilo said, forcing a smile and putting a hand on the man’s large shoulder. “Peace between the clans, like you wanted. And both of us still alive.”

Son cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Ah, yes, well. It’s true that was not always a foregone conclusion. I speak gladly for the Royal Council in commending you and your Weather Man on this achievement; the entire country is thankful and relieved.” Son touched his hands to his forehead and bent into a salute. “A great day, Kaul-jen.”

“What a miserable day, to end a miserable month,” Hilo grumbled after dinner. He spooned coconut rice custard into small bowls and passed them down the table as Kyanla cleared away the used plates. “At least I got Teije back.”

“An accomplishment that was surely worth getting yourself and everyone in No Peak banned for life from the Uwiwa Islands,” Shae said drily. “Zapunyo’s made sure that scenes of dead Uwiwan policemen are all over his country’s news programs and some international ones.”

“Shae,” Hilo admonished, glancing at their mother.

To everyone’s surprise, Kaul Wan Ria spoke up and said, “Everyone knows the Uwiwans are all crooks; even their police are crooks. To think what might’ve happened to poor Mrs. Teije’s son if you hadn’t rescued him. You saved your auntie’s life, Hilo-se; she would’ve died of a broken heart if her son had come to harm, and so far away from home. I hope he learns his lesson and stays in Kekon from now on.” She began to push back from the table.

Wen got up to help her. “Don’t you want dessert, Ma?” she asked.

“No, you should eat it. You need it for the baby.”

After dinner was a time for the Green Bones in the family to discuss clan issues. Hilo recalled that as a child, he would be shooed away to play, while Grandda, Doru, and their inner circle remained in the dining room, smoking and drinking hoji, and his mother retired to her room to read or watch television.

Hilo walked around the table behind Kehn’s and Tar’s chairs to give his mother a hug before she left. Full family dinners were rare in the Kaul home these days. “Everything okay with the guesthouse? It’ll be a lot nicer once we fix it up; we’re going to put in new floors and appliances. I know you like it in Marenia, but you should live closer once the baby arrives.” Since Lan’s death, it seemed to Hilo that his mother had aged and shrunken; he’d hired help to take care of the family’s beach house, bring her groceries, and check in on her, but it would be safer to have her behind estate walls, and a grandchild might give her some purpose.

His mother patted him on the arm. Hilo didn’t press his argument. She might be reluctant to give up the peaceful solitude she’d grown used to on the coast, but he was her eldest son now, and she was sure to obey him; he simply needed to be gentle about it.

Once his mother had departed, Hilo sat back down and ate his dessert, giving Shae another remonstrative look for her deliberate tactlessness. Securing the peace agreement between the clans had been a significant public victory for the Weather Man’s office; Hilo knew his sister had been working long hours for weeks, spearheading the detailed negotiations. But that didn’t excuse her talking down to him, in front of his own men and his wife, no less.

“You want to know what Ayt Mada said to me in Gohei?” Hilo looked around the table before settling his gaze back on Shae. “She told me to give up now. To kneel and take oaths to the Mountain, because I’m not Grandda, and I’m not Lan, so No Peak’s fucked.”

“Hilo-jen,” Kehn said, scowling, “she’s trying to make you doubt yourself. Just because you’re not the Torch, or because you’re different from Lan-jen—let the gods recognize them—doesn’t mean you can’t be a strong Pillar, or an even better one. For myself, I can’t be the Horn that you were; I can only be my own sort.” Everyone looked at Kehn, a little surprised by his honesty and thoughtfulness.

“I wouldn’t have made you Horn if I didn’t think you could do a good job,” Hilo said. “So there’s a difference. I never had either Grandda’s or Lan’s blessing.”

Wen placed her hand on Hilo’s leg. “You have us.”

Hilo nodded. “That’s true, and maybe that’s the one thing I have that Ayt doesn’t. We’re all family at this table, so I’m not ashamed to admit that I need the help of every one of you. For my part, I promise to listen to what you have to say, even when I don’t agree or if I make a different decision. And when I do, it’s the word of the Pillar, and you have to respect that.” This last part was directed at his Weather Man, who glanced at him sideways with an appropriate amount of grudging guilt for the sarcastic way she’d spoken earlier.

“So,” Tar said, cleaning his teeth with a toothpick, “are you going to tell us the real plan now?”

“What we agreed to in Gohei is the real plan,” Hilo said firmly, “to everyone in the clan except those at this table. I want you to make it clear all the way down the ranks. We’ll hold to the borders we’ve agreed to. No more raids or attacks on their territory, no more taking Mountain blood or jade without family approval.” Gods in Heaven, I sound just like Lan, Hilo thought unhappily.

“We’ll stick to our part of the bargain,” Hilo said, in response to Tar’s skeptical face, “because we need the Mountain to do their part in going after the smuggling. One clan can’t protect the country’s mine sites and coastline. So we have to do this; we have to make peace for now. Because it’s obvious from what happened on Tialuhiya that Zapunyo has every intention of reaching into Kekon, and that uwie midget is ambitious enough to think he can take on Green Bones. He’ll hide inside his mansion and use others—cops, crooks, addicts, anyone he can pay or intimidate—to do his work. That means he’ll have rats all over Janloon, if he doesn’t already.”

“We’ve got rats of our own,” Tar reminded the Pillar.

“Not enough of them.” Hilo directed his words to both of the Maik brothers. “We need White Rats wherever our enemies are, and that’s not just on the streets here in Janloon. We have to be watching every which way for the Mountain’s next move—Ayt will try something clever, come after us in some way we don’t expect and that doesn’t make her look bad for sitting next to me, smiling on camera. And we need people we trust or own in the Uwiwa Islands, close to or inside Ti Pasuiga, feeding us information about Zapunyo’s business so we can take it apart.”

The Maik brothers nodded. Shae said, “Zapunyo’s hardly the only one who’s interested in the country’s jade mines. And some of the other interested parties have armies. We ought to be more worried about the Ygutanians and the Espenians than about Zapunyo.”

Kehn leaned his crossed arms on the table. “The Ygutanians wouldn’t dare come after Kekon, not with the Espenians camped out on Euman Island.”

“That’s not stopping them from buying jade off the black market from dealers like Zapunyo, or under the table from Ayt Mada, who’s already established shine factories inside Ygutan to support her secret contracts,” Shae pointed out. “The Espenians think of Kekon as their jade source, and it’ll be a problem for us if they decide their wartime supplier isn’t secure or reliable enough.”

“The Espenians are full of shit,” Tar exclaimed. “They can’t handle the jade they already have. Look at what’s going on over there. They’re going to ban jade outside of military use. Even the ROE special ops guys aren’t allowed to wear it for more than three years of service, because of what being addicted to shine does to you—fucks you up, gives you cancer or something, I don’t know. There’s more jade around this dinner table than in one of their platoons.” Tar began to pull out a cigarette, but Hilo took it from him. He wanted to have one too, but Wen said smoky air wasn’t good for the baby. He poured Tar a glass of hoji instead.

“Anyway,” Tar said, grudgingly accepting the drink, “if those thin bloods tried to occupy Kekon, they’d never hold it. It’d be too costly for them, and the spennies are all about money.”

“They’re our largest trading partner and military ally,” Shae said. “If we intend to grow the business side of the clan, we need access to that market. There’re ways they can pressure or control us without resorting to invasion. They’re already trying.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have a Weather Man who speaks Espenian and stays on top of it,” Hilo said. “The Espenians can be placated or bought, like what you did last year.”

Shae snorted. “You make it sound so simple.” To Hilo’s amusement, she and Wen exchanged a glance that might’ve been commiseration. “That’s what I get for being the Weather Man at a family dinner table full of former Fists.”

“Come on, Shae, don’t be like that.” Hilo prodded her arm. “You could balance things, bring someone into the family from the Ship Street side of the clan. I’m sure Ma would like it if you brought Woon Papi home for dinner. He comes from a good Green Bone family, doesn’t he? And with business sense too.”

To Hilo’s delight, his sister blinked. Color began to rise in her face. “Woon-jen is the Weather Man’s Shadow,” she said stiffly. “Our relationship is entirely professional.”

Hilo chuckled and the Maiks hid smiles. “I’m sure it is for you,” he agreed. “Ah, Shae, how can you be so smart in some ways, and so dense in others? I’m guessing it’s because you’ve already got someone else in mind. Have any of the clan’s families succeeded in pitching an eligible son at you?” He could tell that his wide, teasing grin was starting to embarrass and infuriate her, and it improved his mood considerably—not because he wanted to get into a fight, but because it made him feel oddly nostalgic for their many childhood battles. Besides, she had acted so superior with him earlier.

Hilo stacked the empty dessert bowls. Kyanla came from the kitchen to clear them and brought out a pot of tea. As Wen poured for everyone at the table, Hilo leaned back in his chair. “Enough of that fun stuff,” he said. “We made peace with the Mountain today, like I said.” The smirk vanished from Hilo’s face and he spoke in a voice of complete seriousness. “So when we make our move, we can’t do it halfway. We can’t injure them and start another bloody war. We have to cut the tree down all at once. That means we have to figure out how to do it. When we act, we have to be strong—in our people, our businesses, everything. Ayt was plotting for years before she showed her hand. That was good for her; she almost got what she wanted and she hurt us badly, but we’re still here and now it’s our turn. Everyone here is kin, so we all know what happened on that stage today was for show.”

Hilo paused and looked around the table. No one said anything. Their gazes remained on him and their jade auras hummed evenly and without surprise. “The Mountain has weaknesses we don’t know about,” he said. “Otherwise, they would never have agreed to a truce. We have to find out what those weaknesses are. Even if it takes time. Then we’ll plan how to kill Ayt Madashi and her followers and destroy her clan.”

Hilo awoke rested but vaguely anxious the following morning. The conversation at the dinner table last night had tumbled about in his mind before he’d fallen asleep. Perhaps other people in Janloon would go about more happily today, knowing the clans were officially at peace, but Hilo felt no different. As Horn, he’d seen Fists duel for jade, pimps and drug dealers knife each other for the best street corners, dogs and vagrants fight over food. One thing he knew for certain was that stalemates and compromises always broke down. Lasting peace came from unequivocal victory.

Even as he thought about how to eventually bring down the Mountain for good, he had no doubt that on the other side of town, Ayt Mada was likewise scheming to do the same to him. He did not yet know how to go about crippling the Mountain so thoroughly that he could be sure it would never again threaten his family. It seemed an insurmountable task, one he wasn’t certain even his grandfather or Lan would’ve known how to achieve, and yet No Peak’s ultimate survival depended on it entirely. On top of that, now there were other adversaries and threats for him to think about as well. Too many pieces—all of them shadowy, instead of out in the open.

He curled himself around Wen and wrapped his arms around her gently bulging belly. If he concentrated, he could Perceive the tiny life inside her—a faint, rapid drumming, like the heartbeat of a mouse nestled under his wife’s familiar energy. It delighted and aroused him, to think of Wen growing his child in her body. He began to fondle her, gently but a little impatiently, cupping her swelling breasts, rolling the dark nipples under his thumbs, running his hand along the curve of her hip and over her buttocks and between her legs. He pressed the heat of his erection between her thighs. Wen rolled over and smiled sleepily at him, squirming closer. He pulled her nightgown over her head, turned her onto her side, and made love to her, perhaps a little more carefully than he ordinarily would, because of the baby, even though she said there was nothing to worry about.

Afterward, as he lay on his back, considerably more relaxed, Wen said, “Maybe Tar’s right and Espenia’s not likely to invade Kekon directly, but people are nervous. For years, we’ve been happily taking foreign money to build the country, but now for the first time the average person is realizing what it means for foreigners to have what’s always belonged to us.” She propped herself on her elbows next to him. “They’re starting to wonder if our decisions have put us in danger. Maybe by trading our jade, we’ve lost our souls or angered the gods. When people are scared, they make bad decisions.”

Hilo shifted onto his side to face her, puzzled. “Why do you always do this? When we were all talking after dinner yesterday, you stayed quiet and didn’t say anything. Later, we’re lying in bed, and you want to talk clan business. If you have things to say, why not say them at the time?”

Wen looked away and rested her chin on her folded forearms; to Hilo’s surprise, she looked a little hurt by his question. “It wasn’t my place; I’m not a Green Bone.”

“You’re not like my ma, either, leaving as soon as the talk starts. You’re not a Green Bone, but you’re my wife. Everyone here is family; you should just talk if you want.”

Wen was quiet for a moment. “I’d rather speak to you alone.” She turned to face him again, her head pillowed on one bent arm. “When it’s just the two of us, I can say anything that’s on my mind. I know you’ll listen even if you don’t agree. I talk to a lot of ordinary people: small business owners, contractors, office workers, students.” Wen had turned a talent for interior design into a job consulting for clan-affiliated properties, and she was taking classes at Janloon City College to further her career. “So I’m only telling you what I’m hearing out there.”

Hilo pulled her near and pressed his face against her chest. “When the baby comes, you’ll have a new job to occupy you so you won’t have time to worry so much about mine.”

“I’ll always worry,” Wen said. “Even though I know there’s no man greener than my husband. Every time I see all this”—she ran her fingers down Hilo’s collarbone and chest, gently tracing each jade stud—“no matter how proud I am, I think of the danger you’re in, of how many enemies we have.”

“I will never let any of them near you,” Hilo promised. “Or our children.”

They kissed and touched each other for a while longer, and just as Hilo was thinking he ought to get up because he had a thousand things to do, Wen spoke quietly. “Eyni replied to my letter. I wrote her a long message and mailed it right away. I gave her news about the whole family and asked her to come visit with her boyfriend and son. I knew it would take time to get a letter to Stepenland and back, but still, she took over a month to reply and wrote only a few sentences.”

Hilo sat up with his back against the headboard. Wen rarely sounded so aggrieved; she was generally of a warm and caring disposition, but when she was upset, she could be extremely stubborn and cagey about the specifics of her displeasure. He had to prod her to elaborate. “So? What did she say?”

“She thanked me for taking the time to write but told me not to contact her again.” Wen sat up beside him, her eyes flashing with hurt. “Why would she say something like that? We’d met before. We weren’t close friends when she was Lan’s wife, but only because we never had the chance to get to know each other. I can’t make sense of her rudeness.”

“I told you, Eyni was always stuck-up like that.” He’d always considered his sister-in-law to be a shallow, selfish woman—someone who liked nice clothes, theater, wine, and the status of being a Pillar’s wife but who didn’t fit into the Kaul family at a deeper level. He’d done his best to show respect to his brother’s wife, but had gotten the distinct sense that she looked down on him, thought of him as an uncouth kid (which he supposed he had been), and she’d never made an effort to talk to him. Lan must’ve appreciated her cultured intellect and pretty face, but Hilo had been unsurprised and secretly relieved when the marriage ended.

“You have to write back to her this time,” Wen insisted. “If she won’t show me the courtesy of a proper response, she’ll at least have to acknowledge the Pillar of the clan.”

“I thought we talked about this,” Hilo said, but seeing the determined look on his wife’s face, he relented. “I don’t think it’ll make a difference, but all right.”

Wen nodded, satisfied, although obviously still vexed. “If she won’t make the effort to come here, you should go see her in Stepenland. Even if it’s a long trip, it would be worth it.” At Hilo’s doubtful expression, she said, “You always say yourself that meeting face-to-face is best.”