Her sister-in-law stopped the car so abruptly that Shae had to put a hand against the dash. Wen pulled the car over to the curb and put the gear shift in park. She turned to face Shae, her eyes flashing. “Shae-jen, I’m ashamed to say this, but there was a time when I didn’t trust you very much because I wasn’t sure you were the sort of person who would put others ahead of yourself.” She fixed Shae with a steady, almost unnerving stare. “You could’ve resigned your position to marry your boyfriend and have a child. It would create a miserable scandal for a while, but then you’d be free to live a much easier life. But where would No Peak be without you as Weather Man? How could my husband be Pillar without your counsel? What would become of the valuable work we’ve done together, and in the future how could I do anything in the clan at all without you?” Wen declared, almost angrily, “I could never forgive you if you decided to be so selfish. So how can you believe I would think any less of you for being responsible instead?”
Shae was a little taken aback. “But you have children.”
Wen put the car back into gear and began driving again. She finished the dregs of her tea and spoke matter-of-factly. “We each serve the clan in the way we’re best suited. Look at Ayt Mada and how alone she is. We must never be like that.”
Before she’d left Kekon to pursue a degree at Belforte Business School in Windton, Espenia, Shae had lived for three weeks in a room in the Tranquil Suites Hotel on Euman Island. Jerald had been discharged two months ago and was awaiting her back in his home country, and after the most recent screaming family argument, Shae could not bear to be around her grandfather and could not stand to look at Hilo’s face, so she packed her bags and moved out of the Kaul house.
Lan was the only one to come see her the night before her departure. He took the ferry from Janloon and knocked on her hotel room door to offer to take her to dinner. Shae said she didn’t care where they went, so Lan suggested a nearby noodle shop. “After tomorrow, you’ll be eating Espenian food, so let’s have something homey tonight,” he said. The restaurant was on the main thoroughfare of the port town. Neighboring bistros and bars had signs and menus written in Espenian, and on a pleasant summer evening, off-duty Espenian military personnel crowded the open-air patios and conversed loudly on the sidewalks. There were no lanterns hanging in the shop windows; Lan and Shae were not seated or served ahead of everyone else. Shae’s flight was not until tomorrow, but she already felt as if she were in a different country.
Lan did not seem irritated at not being recognized and saluted. As they waited for their meals, he took in the environs with thoughtful bemusement. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said, “if this is what the whole world looks like one day—an unrecognizable blend, cultures and people mixed together. Where will jade and clans and Green Bones fit in, I wonder?”
“That’s for you to think about, not me.” In retrospect, she’d been rude to her brother, but at the time, her jade was locked in a bank safe and she was still moody and ill from withdrawal.
“You should eat more,” Lan said, when he saw that she hadn’t finished the food in her bowl. “You have a long, tiring trip ahead of you, and then you’ll be alone in a foreign country.”
“I won’t be alone,” Shae countered. “I’ll be with Jerald.”
Lan looked at her compassionately. “We’re always alone with our own decisions.” Her brother had been Pillar for a year, and in that time, he’d grown more somber and forthright, had seemed to age in a way that widened even the nine-year gap between them. “You can make a rational, well-informed choice, and still be unprepared for what it means. You’re the youngest in the family, and a woman, and a Kaul, and none of that makes life easy on Kekon, but in Espenia, you’ll start out below everyone else. You’ll have to fight for every scrap of respect that you’re used to getting at home.”
“Did Grandda send you to make a final attempt at discouraging me?” Shae asked.
Lan’s remonstrative stare made Shae avert her eyes. “No,” he said, coldly enough to make her feel ashamed. “I’ve said that I support your decision, but I’m your older brother, and the Pillar, so that gives me enough extra life experience to tell you that no matter where you go, others will try to define you. Unless you define yourself.”
“I’m twenty-four years old, Lan,” Shae said. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can,” Lan said sadly. The waiter came to clear their dishes. A swollen orange moon was rippling in the narrow stretch of water that separated Euman Island from the skyline of Janloon, which Shae would soon watch fade from her airplane window and would not see again for two years. “Just try not to forget who you are,” her brother said.
While several countries mark the end of the Many Nations War (Victory Day in Espenia, War’s End Day in Tun, Liberation Day in the Uwiwa Islands, to name a few), Kekon’s national holiday commemorates the defeat of Shotarian occupation forces on the island and restoration of the country’s sovereignty fifty-two days prior to the signing of the international armistice. The official name of the holiday, Triumph of the Nation’s Heroes Over Foreign Oppression, is rarely used on account of its unwieldiness; it is referred to simply as Heroes Day.
As a child, Hilo had enjoyed Heroes Day, because in addition to being a day of patriotism, it was a celebration of Green Bone culture. Kaul Du Academy and Wie Lon Temple School opened their doors and put on public demonstrations of the jade disciplines. Movie theaters played a marathon of the adventure films about Baijen, the legendary Green Bone warrior. Veterans like his grandfather and late father were praised and honored. In the evening, there was a parade and fireworks. Afterward, Hilo went to sleep smiling, feeling like a prince.
As Pillar of the clan, he dreaded Heroes Day, and more so this year than any other. He was expected to make numerous public appearances and graciously accept the respect-paying of countless people while maintaining an appropriate solemnity out of memory for those slain in Kekon’s struggle for freedom. This year, he expected the holiday would be underscored with the tension of current anti-foreigner sentiment and would make the scandal over Shae’s past all the worse for No Peak. No wonder his sister was staying at home and not making any appearances today. She claimed to be feeling unwell, but he wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d simply said that she’d rather skip the shitshow and the inevitability of having to see Ayt Mada’s smug face.
“Forget the garbage Ayt and the newspapers are spewing,” Hilo had told her. “You have to get Ship Street under control. Hami was in the room with the men who came to see me. He didn’t speak against you, but he didn’t stand up for you either. That’s not good, Shae.”
His sister seemed pale and much quieter than usual. “I’ll handle it,” she said.
“If your people are behind you, it doesn’t matter what any of those other fuckers think, but they have to be behind you.”
“I said I’ll handle it,” Shae repeated. “Do you trust me?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Hilo had no intention of caving to pressure from inside or outside of the clan, but what if things got so bad that Shae no longer had the credibility to run the business side of No Peak? He didn’t want to contemplate the possibility of having to remove his sister from her post; he was certain that was exactly what Ayt Mada was hoping for. Three years ago, the Mountain had tried to weaken Lan’s position by targeting Hilo for assassination; now they were doing the same to him, undermining him by going after Shae.