Jade War

CHAPTER 18 The White Lantern Club

Shae arrived at the White Lantern Club twenty minutes before her scheduled meeting with the Espenian ambassador and the commander of Euman Naval Base. She wanted to secure one of the best tables and to position herself as host before the foreign guests arrived. She asked the hoji master to bring up two recommended labels from the cellar as well as a bottle of imported wine and to place them in the center of the table. A few of the club’s members noticed her arrival and looked intent on coming up to pay their respects. Woon went around to greet them and deftly head off any possible attempts to initiate conversation, explaining that the Weather Man was here on important business and unfortunately could not be distracted right now, but he would be glad to carry their regards to her.

Shae went into the restroom to check her makeup and wash her hands, which felt clammy. She was wearing a bold red skirt and blazer, cut in an Espenian style with wide lapels and cuffed sleeves, and a high-necked white blouse that hid her jade bracelets and choker. Her earrings were the only visible green. She took out two folded pieces of paper from the inside pocket of her blazer and reviewed them. A few important economic and political facts and figures, gathered after talking to Maro. A page of strategy notes written to herself during a recent working session with Woon. She stowed the papers. She was well armed, but still felt as if she were going into battle on disadvantaged terms.

She returned to the table. Ambassador Gregor Mendoff and Colonel Leland Deiller arrived at the same time five minutes later. Shae stood to greet them and shake their hands. “Ambassador. Colonel. I’m glad you could join me this afternoon.” The words came reasonably smoothly; Shae had spent much of the past two weeks with the radio in her office tuned to the Espenian station and several hours talking to herself in Espenian, refreshing her memory of the language she’d had limited occasion to use since returning home from Windton. She spoke more slowly and deliberately than usual not only to minimize her accent, but to set the tone of the meeting. She did not introduce Woon or the other man she had with her, a translator that she hoped not to have to call upon. She assumed her guests would be familiar enough with Kekonese business custom to understand that this meant they were observers only and would not be active participants in the discussion.

Shae exchanged pleasantries with the men for a few minutes as the waiter brought out tea and appetizer plates of shrimp cake and pickled figs. Ambassador Mendoff complained about the humid weather, and Colonel Deiller, not having been in this room before, commented upon the breadth of premium liquor displayed on the wall behind the bar. The White Lantern Club was an unabashedly opulent place: stuffed red leather chairs, glass chandeliers, expensive artwork on the walls, impeccable servers in black waistcoats. Membership was by invitation only and had until recently been extended exclusively to No Peak Lantern Men of a certain level and standing, as one of the most coveted status perks granted by the clan. Women were admitted for the first time five years ago. The following year, membership by application was opened to those who were not strictly No Peak business executives, including councilmen, prominent Janloon writers and artists, and Kaul Dushuron Academy faculty members. Now there was even limited reciprocal membership privileges with the Janloon City Club on the other side of the Financial District, which had long been the old boys’ social club of the Mountain clan. Even during the recent period of clan war, money was more fluid than blood. The Green Bones of the two clans might be deadly enemies, but their tribute-paying businessmen remained able to network over drinks at elite establishments.

“I trust that you gentlemen have heard the good news,” Shae said, once the appetizers had been cleared and the soup and meat dishes brought out. Espenians, Shae had learned, did not typically wait until after the meal to begin important conversations. “The government suspension on jade mining has been lifted and mining operations resumed, which means that Kekon will soon begin fulfilling its regular export contracts.”

“Yes, welcome news indeed,” said Ambassador Mendoff. The ambassador was a bulky man with a gray mustache and congenial blue eyes. He seemed, Shae thought, to be a little bemused by her; he kept angling his wide shoulders slightly to the side, glancing at Woon on occasion. Mendoff was the former president of the powerful Shipworkers Society and had been in the ambassadorial post for six months, a reward for his enormous campaign contributions to the current premier of the Espenian National Assembly. He cleared his throat. “And may I add that this comes at a vital time, Miss Kaul. Considering the political instability caused by the civil war in Oortoko, my government sees our trade agreements with Kekon as one of the primary means of promoting security in the region.”

Shae smiled at the man politely but firmly. “Ambassador, here in Kekon, the proper form of address for a person who carries jade is jen. You may address me as Kaul-jen, or simply as Weather Man, which is a term that sounds strange to you, perhaps, but means a great deal in my culture.”

Mendoff flushed and looked uncomfortable, but Shae continued as if there had been no awkwardness. “I appreciate that ongoing jade exports are of considerable interest to you.” She inclined her head to Colonel Deiller. “After all, experts say the conflict in Oortoko is poised to become the first modern jade war.”

Colonel Deiller had a square face, assertive eyebrows, and the long-suffering dignity of a career military officer who’d been posted to a dozen places in the world and seen every form of bullshit there was to see. He regarded Shae with an intensely evaluative gaze, one that made her feel faintly uneasy. She suspected the man was flipping through his mental dossier, comparing her to photographs from many years ago, when she’d acted as an informant to the ROE’s intelligence service. She’d been twenty-two at the time, the girlfriend of a Republic of Espenia naval officer, spoiled granddaughter of the famous war hero Kaul Seningtun. Perhaps the colonel was wondering how, in seven short years, she had become one of the most influential political and business figures on the island of Kekon.

“Our objective in Oortoko is to provide support to the Shotarian government.” Deiller’s voice had a heavy northern Espenian accent that Shae recognized from her graduate school years in Windton. “We’re deploying military assets at their request.”

“You were quick to amass naval forces in the West Tun Sea as soon as you suspected the Ygutanian military was equipping the Oortokon rebels,” Shae pointed out.

“The ROE’s policy is to combat any Ygutanian aggression, and it’s abundantly clear that the rebellion in Oortoko is a vehicle for Ygutan to extend its territory.” Deiller eyed the squid dish suspiciously and reached for the pork instead. “The premier and the secretary of the War Department have stated that we’ll unequivocally defend the sovereignty of our allies.” He gave her a pointed look. “Including Kekon, I might add.”

Shae motioned to the server to refill the small cups of hoji. The ambassador had finished his first serving, the colonel had not. Shae had only tasted hers. “I’m sorry to say that many Kekonese don’t see the rapid military buildup on Euman Island and in our surrounding waters as the actions of a trusted ally.”

“I’ve spoken at length with Chancellor Son Tomarho,” said Ambassador Mendoff, managing to sound indignant at Shae’s suggestion while still retaining the smooth tone of a diplomat. “I’ve assured him and the Royal Council that our heightened military presence on Kekon is a necessary and, we hope, temporary measure in our joint security interests.”

“Jade is in your interest,” Shae clarified, setting down her soup spoon. “We all watch the news, Ambassador. Stories of Espenian special operations teams equipped with Kekonese jade… that makes people very nervous. You must remember that my country has a long history of foreigners trying to invade and occupy us. How can we trust that our Espenian allies are any different? If you wanted to, could you not use your military might and jade-wearing soldiers to take over our mines for yourselves and control our country?” Shae opened her hands in a helpless gesture, as if she was only giving voice to a ridiculous paranoia, but she was certain Mendoff and Deiller had been in conversations of that very nature with their superiors. If No Peak hadn’t kept jade flowing to Adamont Capita during the KJA shutdown, or if the clan war had continued and forced the mines to remain inactive too long, the Espenians might indeed have taken military action. She said, “Don’t be offended; I’m only telling you how the Kekonese mind works. We are always on guard against theft.”

“It seems you’re already aware of our request to the Royal Council,” grumbled Ambassador Mendoff. “Nothing in this country escapes the notice of you clan people.”

Shae said, “Asking for such a significant increase in jade exports as soon as the mines begin running again, while at the same time you amass forces in our territory, is not going to cause Espenia to be viewed favorably by anyone on Kekon. The Royal Council is already under severe pressure from the public to reduce jade exports and condemn the Oortokon War.”

“Shotar is in a crisis situation,” the ambassador insisted, leaning forward for emphasis, “and Ygutan is a clear and present threat to us all. Kekon is geopolitically important not only as the world’s sole source of bioenergetic jade, but because of its strategic position in the West Tun Sea. We require your country’s full support.”

“You will not get additional jade,” Shae said. “Neither the members in the Royal Council nor the clan representatives that sit on the board of the Kekon Jade Alliance will agree to surrender more of the country’s reserves to a foreign proxy war.”

Ambassador Mendoff sat back and frowned. “Excuse me, Miss Kaul-jen, but you don’t speak for the Kekonese government.”

“That’s true,” Shae said. “You will have to wait for the official answer. It will be the same as the unofficial one that you’re hearing from me now. We have a saying in Kekon: ‘Gold and jade, never together.’ Those of us who wear jade don’t hold political office, but you’re not asking for gold—you’re asking for jade. In that, the clans have the final say.”

Shae hoped that the two men picked up on the subtle reminder: Kekon might be a small island with an undersized national army, but any attempt to exert military control over the country would mean contending with the Green Bone clans, which controlled the cities and all major industries and whose membership included thousands of trained fighters each wearing more jade than several elite Espenian soldiers put together.

The Weather Man said, “Allow me to explain, so you can communicate to your superiors: It’s not that we disagree with your stance against Ygutan. But in Kekon, we believe that jade is a divine gift from Heaven. A person must train for many years beginning in childhood before they can wear it, and it is our sacred tradition that it be wielded only by those who defend others. Of course,” she added, “we recognize the world has opened up and we are no longer the only ones who can possess jade, but nevertheless, it is central to our national identity. There is a large Keko-Shotarian population in Oortoko; they and other civilians will be caught in this conflict. We don’t want jade to become known as a tool of war for foreigners, one that might even be used to harm fellow ethnic Kekonese.”

“You’re suggesting that it’ll somehow tarnish Kekon’s reputation and the sanctity of jade for it to be used by military personnel in an armed conflict?” Ambassador Mendoff said skeptically. “Disputes between the clans in this country have resulted in people wearing jade killing each other with swords in the streets of Janloon. So where’s the logic in your argument?”

Shae spoke calmly but with a cold edge in her voice. “The two things you describe are entirely different. If you cannot see why, it is because you are not Kekonese.”

The two men looked disgruntled. The server came to clear their empty plates; Mendoff and Deiller glanced somewhat apologetically at the men beside Shae, who had not eaten or drunk anything from the meal. The translator, a junior Luckbringer in the clan, could not help looking at the leftover food hungrily as it was taken back to the kitchen. Woon, who knew well enough to have eaten his fill elsewhere before the meeting, did not spare the dishes a glance.

Shae waited for the server to finish pouring tea, then added in a more conciliatory tone, “Do not think, however, that this means we do not support our allies. Jade is a national resource that must be managed by all of Kekon, but I would speak to you now, not as a board member of the KJA, but as Weather Man of my clan. We can offer other things of value to you besides jade.” For the first time, she turned toward Woon, who immediately handed her a thick manila envelope.

Shae set the envelope down in the center of the table and observed that Colonel Deiller reached out to take it first. He removed the papers within and began to examine them. As he read, his eyebrows drew together, and though his face kept its gruff composure, his pulse quickened enough for Shae to Perceive. He handed the papers wordlessly to Ambassador Mendoff, who, after a few minutes of study, rubbed his mustache and looked up at Shae. “How did you get this?”

Shae had searched Doru’s files for the information he’d compiled after his trip to Ygutan on Lan’s orders two years ago. She’d questioned the Fist and the Finger who’d corroborated the report on the Mountain’s activities in that country, and with Maik Kehn’s permission, sent them back to Ygutan for four weeks, along with two of her own people, to verify and update their findings.

Shae asked Deiller, “Has the cormorant ever provided you with false information?”

The colonel’s eyes narrowed at the use of her old code name. “No,” he admitted.

Their table was discreetly partitioned from the rest of the dining floor by a wooden screen, and Woon had seen to it that the dining floor staff did not seat any other patrons within earshot, but nevertheless, Ambassador Mendoff lowered his voice. “This is evidence of large-scale SN1 production in Ygutan.”

“With ample SN1, if Ygutan can secure jade on the black market, they can use it for military purposes, including equipping their puppet militia in Oortoko.”

Both men appeared noticeably discomfited by the idea. Mendoff asked Deiller, “Why haven’t our assets in the Ygutanian government told us about this?” he asked Deiller.

“Your spies embedded in Dramsk probably aren’t aware of it,” Shae said. “The SN1 production facilities aren’t being run by the Ygutanian government. As much as we Kekonese oppose shine trafficking in our own country, there are some people—in clans other than my own—who have no problem producing it and selling it to anyone who will pay, regardless of political alliance.”

Even before the clan war, Lan had anticipated that No Peak could use information about the Mountain’s overseas SN1 manufacturing operations to damage their enemies—and that was precisely what Shae intended to do. She took the sheaf of papers and put them back in the envelope, then put a hand on top of it and looked at the two men with her eyebrows expectantly raised. “Despite our differing views and priorities, the No Peak clan wishes for our countries to remain friends, which is why I asked you here today for an honest conversation and to offer you something of value.”

The two men across the table glanced at each other, apparently coming to some silent, terse agreement between them before turning back to her. “I would have to make some calls to Adamont Capita,” said Ambassador Mendoff slowly, “but you’ve done us a great service by sharing this information. It would be worth perhaps ten to fifteen million thalirs to us.”

Shae managed to hide a grimace at the sudden blunt mention of price. The Espenians were a mercenary, plutocratic people; their society was built on a long history of naval power and trade, and they treated fair commerce like a religion. They could put a price on anything, Shae suspected, certainly jade, maybe even life and death.

She leaned back and drank some tea, pretending to consider the ambassador’s offer; they would likely be offended if she did not appear to take it seriously. “Clans in Kekon have a tradition,” she said at last. “When an outsider has done something for us out of respect and goodwill, we give them a gift. It must be an item that’s green, marked with the symbol of the clan. It means that we’re grateful for their friendship, and if there’s any way we can help them in the future, we’ll do so.”

Deiller shifted in his chair; Mendoff coughed. The idea of favors and indebtedness clearly made them uncomfortable. The ambassador said skeptically, “That’s what you’d like in exchange for information of military importance?”

Shae smiled. “No, no, that isn’t your custom, so of course I wouldn’t expect you to follow it. The whole point of the gift is that there is no specific date or value tied to it. It’s meant to symbolize appreciation and trust. But I don’t need a symbolic token, and I wouldn’t expect you to accept an exchange that’s so undefined. I only bring it up because I would like this to be an opportunity for us to improve the bond between our countries. We are allies, as you say, but because of what’s happening now, the relationship is strained. If we build bridges—profitable bridges—it would go a long way in strengthening our alliance and public perception of Espenia.”

Ambassador Mendoff nodded slowly. His broad shoulders and pale blue eyes were squared toward her now. “You have some particular opportunities in mind?”

“There are many Kekonese companies that would like to gain access to the Espenian market. For that to happen, tariffs would need to be reduced or eliminated in certain industries such as textiles and consumer products. I’d like to see restrictions on foreign real estate investment in cities such as Port Massy be lifted so more Kekonese businesses can operate there.” She decided it was best to speak as frankly as they had. “Since the end of the Many Nations War, Kekon has been opening itself up to international trade, but if you subtract our primary export to Espenia—jade—we’re running a substantial trade deficit. In order to correct that, and to expand business opportunities for Kekonese companies, I would need your support.”

Ambassador Mendoff and Colonel Deiller regarded her silently for several seconds. At last the colonel said, “Well, I’m a soldier, not a politician, but I will say that Kekon is the strategic linchpin of our military presence in the East Amaric. We’re committed to our alliance and maintaining good relations with the government and people of this country.”

“Be that as it may,” said Ambassador Mendoff, “what you’re hoping for isn’t the sort of thing that can be accomplished quickly or easily. You might be well advised to accept fifteen million thalirs. I can advocate your issues with Premier Galtz and the National Assembly, but…”

“That’s all I ask.” Shae added a calculated touch of humble flattery into her voice. “I know that you’re friends with the premier and have great influence on him, or so I’m told by everyone I speak to. If you’re able to put in a word at the highest level that might improve our joint economic future, I’ll gladly take it in place of anything else you could offer me.”

“You act as if you’re the final authority in this discussion, Miss Kaul-jen.” Ambassador Mendoff looked uneasy. “Where’s the leader of your clan? Why isn’t he here?”

Because, Shae thought, Hilo would rather do anything else but sit in the White Lantern Club cozying up to foreign diplomats. “I have full authority to act as the Pillar’s representative in these matters,” Shae said. “My word in the No Peak clan is final.”