Jade War

CHAPTER 52 This Is Serious

The Weather Man’s branch office in Espenia was located on Garden Street in Port Massy, not exactly in the central financial area, but close enough to still be considered the heart of downtown. Anden rode the subway to and from work every day; it took only fifteen minutes door to door. The rent on his studio apartment was too expensive for what he got, but it was one of the nicer buildings in Southtrap and only a block away from the transit station, so he had to endure less time outdoors during the coldest months of winter.

Mr. and Mrs. Hian had assured him that he was welcome to continue boarding with them after he graduated. “Anden-se, you’re no trouble at all,” they insisted. “You’re the best guest we’ve ever had, you’re practically like a third son to us by now, and so helpful around here.”

Anden was tempted; he was truly fond of the elderly couple. With them, he felt as if he had a home in Port Massy. He’d become accustomed to Mrs. Hian’s cooking and his personal space in the guest bedroom. (The noise behind the building had ceased to disturb his sleep long ago.) But, as he explained to his hosts regretfully, now that he would be working downtown and no longer going to Port Massy College, it made sense to move to a more convenient location. Also, though he didn’t mention this, the Dauks had fixed up and sold Cory’s old condo unit, and now that Anden would be earning a living, he felt he should have a place of his own where Cory could come and spend the night whenever he was in Port Massy. Anden promised the Hians that he would still visit them often, which he did, more often it seemed than their own sons, bringing them groceries and helping to shovel the sidewalk during winter. He still saw some of his old relayball friends, but less often. Derek had a new job, Sammy was training regularly under Rohn Toro, Tod was gone on an eight-month-long military deployment.

No Peak had established operations in a professional office building that housed a couple of small law firms and accounting practices, an ad agency, a college test prep center, and the headquarters of a driver’s education company. The name on the directory in the lobby and on the front door of the Weather Man’s branch office read, in both Espenian and Kekonese, KEKON TRADE PARTNERSHIP LIAISON OFFICE. There were a total of twelve people who worked in the office, which was four more than there had been on the first day that Anden had arrived for work six months ago. Anden’s official title was junior associate, which initially gave him no clue as to what his actual job would be, but he deduced that it was equivalent to perhaps an entry-level fourth- or fifth-rank Luckbringer. This was ironic and amusing to Anden; considering his grades in math during his years at Kaul Du Academy, he would never have imagined that he would one day find himself on the business side of the clan.

Fortunately, he was not expected to do much desk work. His boss, Hami Tumashon, had most recently been the Master Luckbringer of No Peak, reporting directly to Kaul Shaelinsan. Hami knew exactly who Anden was. “Kaul Shae-jen gave me the freedom to choose my own team, except she told me that I had to take you.” Hami had a straightforward manner, and when he spoke, Anden could hear the Janloon accent, which he had never noticed in himself but that he now realized was distinctly different from the way Keko-Espenians such as Cory talked. Hami studied Anden and said, gruffly but without rancor, “So I’m to have a Kaul watching over my shoulder and reporting back to Janloon to make sure I’m not wasting the clan’s time and money out here.”

Anden said, “Mr. Hami, I just graduated from the city college and my cousins are trying to find something for me to do, that’s all. I’m supposed to help you in any way I can, but if I’m not of any use to you, just tell me so.” He was well aware that he had few qualifications.

One of the first tasks that Hami gave him was to recruit new staff members. “We need some locals,” he explained. “Bilingual Espenian-born or Espenian-naturalized people who know the market, the culture, the way business is done around here. If you have friends in the Kekonese community here in Port Massy, start there and see if you can get some leads.”

Anden paid a visit to Dauk Losunyin and explained the situation. Dauk nodded thoughtfully. “Anything I can do to help your family’s business, I will,” he said. The Pillar of Southtrap was in good spirits these days; his youngest daughter had given birth to a baby girl—his third grandchild—and the police were no longer monitoring him as they were too busy dealing with the violent conflict that had broken out between the three major Crews.

According to what Anden had heard from Rohn Toro, Boss Kromner had become fearful of Skinny Reams’s growing status and suspected him of skimming from the new jade business. He’d sent another of his foremen, Moth Duke, to have Reams killed, but Reams escaped and allied with Anga Slatter, who knew that Kromner’s Southside Crew was sure to come after the Wormingwood Crew sooner or later and saw this as an opportunity to act preemptively. Reams and Slatter gained the tacit cooperation of the Baker Street Crew, and shortly thereafter, the bodies of Moth Duke and two of his men were found in a boathouse, strangled and suffocated with white plastic bags tied over their heads. A signature Crew-style execution, meant to serve as an explicit warning to others. Kromner went into hiding south of the city.

All through the spring and summer, the highly publicized Crew battles and dramatic fall of Port Massy’s celebrity crime boss were splashed across the headlines of the city’s newspapers. Jade—made popular on the black market by the ongoing international attention around the Oortokon War—was blamed for the violence. Four members of the Wormingwood Crew were killed in broad daylight by two assassins reportedly moving faster than any normal human being. There were a combined eight hospitalizations for jade poisoning and SN1 overdose. The Port Massy Police Department, facing public allegations of corruption and ineptitude, cracked down on the Crews. A jade-polishing warehouse on the Camres River was uncovered and shut down, the drugged migrants deported.

With the Crews at each other’s throats and the police beleaguered, there was little trouble in Southtrap for the Kekonese community. While repairs were going on at the damaged community center, the grudge hall was quietly relocated to a converted warehouse owned by Derek’s uncle. When the original space was reopened, demand was such that the new location also stayed open, so there was now additional space for Green Bones to train by day, and high attendance and gambling money flowing freely by night. A week after the news broke that Boss Kromner had been tracked down and apprehended by the police on trumped-up charges of labor exploitation, Anden received a call from Dauk Losun, for no particular reason other than to inquire as to how he was doing these days in his new apartment and at his new job.

“My friend,” Dauk said, “if there is anything you or your family ever need, please do not hesitate to ask. May the gods shine favor on No Peak, as they say in the old country.”

A couple of weeks after Anden’s request for assistance, Dauk Sana arrived at the Kekon Trade Partnership Liaison Office with a list of two dozen names. Anden introduced her to Hami and the two of them spent some time talking about which part of Kekon their respective families were from before Sana got down to business. “Mrs. Kuni is one of my longtime clients, because of her stomach troubles. Right now, her son works in the mortgage industry but he doesn’t like it very much; he would be interested in a new job. He was always good in school. His Kekonese is so-so.” Dauk Sana moved her finger to the second name on the list. “This is my eldest daughter’s friend from law school; she quit work to have a baby. Now she wants to work again, but her old company says they gave her job away. She’s very smart, and her husband’s family is Espenian military.” Out of Dauk Sana’s list of twenty-four names, ten people showed interest when contacted; seven were brought in for interviews, and four hired.

Hami was pleased. Apparently, Anden had shown himself to be of some use, so he was next assigned to learn everything he could about the liquor market, which included reading trade publications, going around to liquor stores, restaurants, and bars to interview proprietors, and purchasing samples of hundreds of different types of alcoholic beverages and having them packed up and shipped to Janloon for product comparison tests. No Peak thought there might be a market for Kekonese hoji in Espenia. After that, he was sent to scout commercial real estate.

Anden was surprised, as the autumn days cooled and Harvest’Eves decorations went up again, to find himself enjoying his job. His coworkers were mostly Kekonese, so he felt at ease among them, but his tasks were such that there was plenty of need to interact with outsiders, and to speak, read, and write Espenian. His duties were varied and consisted of whatever Hami needed done, so he was rarely bored, and he learned a great deal about how a small part of the Weather Man’s office was run, as well as different sectors of the Espenian economy.

On occasion, he was given an assignment that Hami quietly told him came “from the greener side of the clan,” which meant it was a matter of importance to the Horn, or perhaps the Pillar himself. He was told to examine phone books and government records and make some discreet calls to determine the whereabouts of two former military servicemen, recently released on parole after serving a year in prison for abducting and raping a Kekonese girl while stationed on Euman Island. Anden made a couple of trips—one to the south Port Massy suburb of Orslow, the other five hours away to the town of Evenfield—to make certain his information was correct, as he knew the men were to be punished, possibly with death. After he reported his findings, he received an unexpected long-distance phone call from Maik Tar, asking for clarification on a few of the details and thanking him for being so thorough.

Several weeks later, Anden learned that one of the offenders had been ambushed and beaten in an apparent robbery attempt that left him paralyzed from the waist down, and the other suffered extensive third-degree burns from the fire that destroyed his house. Anden suspected that he was the only junior associate under Hami’s supervision who was trusted with matters such as these, and he took that as a hopeful sign. When he’d first arrived in Port Massy nearly three years ago, he’d viewed his situation in the bleakest of terms, as a jadeless, damaged exile salvaging what few options remained to him. Only now did it seem to Anden that perhaps there was a path forward, resolving out of the fog.

Anden watched Cory standing shirtless in front of the mirror, shaving. He was humming a song, something Anden didn’t know. It was a Seventhday morning in the dead of winter and there was not yet even a hint of morning light outside the windows of Anden’s apartment, but Cory had to take the early bus back to campus because he had study hall that evening. He was in his second year of law school now, and busier than ever. Sometimes he would come back to Port Massy for family events but not have time to see Anden at all, so at other times, he would come into town unannounced for a day or two just so they could spend time together. “Don’t come to the bus station to meet me,” Cory had instructed him over the phone. “My parents don’t know I’m coming and it’s going to be a world of trouble to explain it if someone sees us. I’ll take a cab to your place.”

Anden would clear his schedule; they would have sex, watch television, talk, have sex again. When they wanted to go out to restaurants, the movie theater, or the arcade, they took the subway out of Southtrap to other parts of the city—Lochwood, Quince, Athwart—where they weren’t likely to run into anyone they knew. At first, Cory visited every month, but over time the intervals stretched to six weeks, then eight. Watching Cory now, it occurred to Anden that they had not discussed when he would next visit; neither of them had brought it up.

“Who else are you sleeping with?” Anden asked.

Cory looked at him in surprise, comically frozen with shaving cream on one half of his face. “Where did that come from?” he asked, hurt and indignant. “No one else. Not seriously.”

“What does seriously mean? Is this serious? What we have going on?” Anden had never pegged himself as the possessive type and was surprised to hear himself speaking so fiercely.

Cory finished shaving, wiped his face off with a towel, and came back to Anden’s bed. He sprawled on the bedspread. The trio of jade studs around his navel stood out against his pale skin. “Look, law school is really stressful because we’re working all the time, so when we do let loose, there are some wild parties. I’ve been drunk—everyone’s been drunk—at a few of them, and ended up making out with a few people. And there was a one-night stand, only one, last semester, that was really stupid in hindsight. But that’s it, I promise. I’m not seeing anyone else.”

At Anden’s silence, Cory reached out and tapped him on the chin, giving him an entreating look. “I’m with you, crumb. You’re more real. I mean, you’re younger than me, but there’s something about you that makes you seem older. You take life more seriously. Me”—he shrugged—“I try to take things one step at a time, you know? To live for today. I don’t know for certain what I want to do after law school, but I’m keeping an open mind about it.” He leaned over and kissed Anden on his bare shoulder. “Right now, we’ve got a good thing, don’t we?”

“Cory,” Anden said. He was hesitant to begin the conversation but vexed by the fact that they had never even broached the subject. “Would you ever… want to live in Kekon? If I get the chance to move back to Janloon, I’d want to know if that was… something you’d consider.”

Cory propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Anden intently, eyebrows raised. “Is this hypothetical or is it actually going to happen? Has your family asked you to go back?”

“It’s hypothetical,” Anden mumbled. “I just thought we should talk about it.”

“Well, hypothetically…” Cory rolled onto his back and crossed his hands behind his head, gazing up at Anden’s ceiling. “Yeah sure, I wouldn’t mind spending some time overseas. Seeing where my parents are from, getting in touch with my ancestral roots, that sort of thing. I’ve never lived in another country. It could be a toppers life experience.” His eyes danced with optimism at the idea. “Of course, it would depend on timing and circumstances, but anything’s possible, crumb.”

“What would your parents think?”

Cory rolled his eyes back in exasperation. “Why do you always ask that? You’d think they were your parents, the way you worry.” He sat up and blew out a heavy breath that ruffled the hair over his brow. “Look, I’ve been a good kid to my folks. I’ve done what they wanted: I wear jade, I help out in the community, I’m going to law school. My ma will always want to keep me close because I’m the baby boy, and my da expects me to be ‘successful’—which for him, is a very specific combination of being an old-school Green Bone and a wealthy lawyer.” Cory laughed, but there was an edge of frustration to the laughter. He sobered and looked straight into Anden’s eyes. “I want to do right by my folks, but I’m old enough to make my own life decisions, crumb. If moving to Kekon is important to you—to us—then we should seriously consider it.” Cory leaned over and gave Anden a quick, sunny kiss, then swung his legs off the bed and stood up, stretching his long, lean body. He glanced over his shoulder at Anden as he picked up his clothes. “You’ve gone quiet on me again. Hey, it’s not like there’s some big rush to decide, right? We can talk about it more another time. It’s just a matter of figuring out what we really want.”

Anden thought about the conversation later and still felt dissatisfied. He wished he had been more honest and assertive in that moment, told Cory that he already knew he wanted to return to Kekon, and when the time came, he hoped Cory would come with him.

Then he remembered what Hilo had said about Cory Dauk in their last conversation, and his doubts rose. He couldn’t make it as a Green Bone in Janloon, you know that. Was his cousin right? Could Cory be happy in Janloon? Their positions would be reversed; Cory would be the foreigner. If he wore his jade there, he wouldn’t be protected by aisho—would it be too dangerous for him? Even though he was aware of and involved in his father’s dealings, he had no real understanding of the way the clans worked in Kekon. And if the Dauks did not want their son to leave, might that not create bad feelings between the families, when they were now allies and Anden’s cousins were relying on the good relationship with the Dauks to accomplish the things they wanted to in Espenia?

All of these worries were currently without purpose, Anden told himself. After all, he had no definite timeline, no real impetus to force the issue. Better to live a day at a time, as Cory said.

Early one morning on a Sixthday shortly after the Kekonese New Year, Anden received a phone call at his apartment. He’d gotten out of bed only fifteen minutes ago and was standing in the bathroom with his feet on the heater vent as he brushed his teeth, his reflection visible in the small fogged window that showed nothing but frosted darkness. The small television he’d turned on in the main room was recapping the week’s news: mounting public and political pressure on Premier Galtz and the National Assembly to order a withdrawal from Oortoko, rising interest rates, the latest gossip about some movie starlet.

At first Anden thought the ringing he heard was coming from the television; then he realized the call must be from Janloon because who else would phone at this time? It would be early evening back home. When he shut off the television and picked up the phone, he said, “Hello?” in Kekonese; still, he was surprised to hear Hilo’s voice, muted by the long-distance connection. “We need to talk to you, Andy,” said the Pillar. “Shae and Juen are here in the room too. I’m putting you on speaker.”

Since he’d moved to Espenia, Anden could count on one hand the number of times he’d spoken to Hilo on the phone. “He doesn’t like talking on the phone,” Shae had said to Anden once, apologetically. Anden suspected that more accurately, Hilo did not like to talk to him on the phone, to be reminded of his disgraced younger cousin being so far away. And Anden had certainly never been on a conference call with the Pillar, the Weather Man, and the Horn of No Peak all in attendance. Worried now, Anden said, “Is there something wrong?”

Shae’s voice came from a distance on the other end. “Nothing’s wrong, Anden.”

“We need your help, cousin,” Hilo said, “to get something done in Espenia.”

Anden turned on a lamp and sat down on his bed. “What do you need help with?”

The Pillar said, “Killing a man.”