No one replied for a moment. Then Hilo’s mouth curved into a humorless, sardonic smile. “You want us to keep out other foreigners, in order to protect the ones that are already here.”
Secretary Corris pursed his lips to one side and gave a small shrug that, while not in overt agreement with Hilo’s statement, was ample confirmation. “What we want is the assurance that our allies in Kekon will do their utmost to influence public policy and legislation in a way that preserves the long-term strength of our relationship and our mutual security. We want to feel confident that you’ll stand against other, more shortsighted, rabble-rousing voices—and we’d like to help you do that, by making it economically advantageous to remain our friends.”
Hilo nodded, then stood up. The Espenians had said everything they’d intended to say, and he was tiring rapidly of the long-winded sugary political talk, not to mention the continued pretense that this was anything but a bribe, made at the highest level. Gods in Heaven, he’d been a Fist and then the Horn for years before he was Pillar; he knew all about the delicate balance of threat and inducement required to get what one wanted from reluctant assets. Shae and Kehn stood up with him, and after a beat, Chancellor Son and the other Kekonese politicians did so as well. Secretary Corris followed their movement with faintly raised eyebrows.
“Ayt Madashi is my enemy,” Hilo said, “but that doesn’t mean you’re my friend. I’ll deal with you and your government so long as it benefits No Peak. But you’re still visitors here. Don’t ask for too much, or presume to control Kekon. Other foreigners have tried before you.”
When the translator had finished repeating Hilo’s words, Secretary Corris smiled, showing a flash of white teeth, and to the surprise of everyone in the room, raised clasped hands and touched them to his forehead in the traditional Kekonese salute. It was done with just the right amount of deliberation to be a pointedly casual retort without being overtly mocking.
“May the gods shine favor on your clan, as they say in your country, Mr. Kaul-jen,” said the Espenian diplomat. “Or as they say in mine: ‘May you see and bear the Truth.’”
“Fucking Espenians,” Hilo said, after dinner that evening.
Kehn grumbled in agreement and pushed back his empty plate. “Dealing with them is like wrestling a creature with many heads. One head’s smiling at you, another’s stealing your food, a third’s taking a bite out of your ass.” The Horn crossed his arms. “They knew we wouldn’t send Green Bones to fight on their side in that hellhole. They only said it so they could be more forceful asking for what they thought they could really get.”
“Spennies—they’d line up to sell their own mothers just to see who could get the best price.” Tar was leaning back with a contentedly lazy look on his face, having spent the afternoon with his sometimes lover Iyn Ro instead of on Euman Naval Base.
“You could’ve let me mention a few things in that meeting,” Shae said to Hilo, a little sourly. “Such as the fact that the proposed trade agreements benefit their economy as well. Manufacturing capacity in Espenia has been shifted to the war effort and they need foreign trade to meet consumer demand. So it’s not as if the leverage they’re trying to apply is one-sided.”
“There were already enough people in that meeting trying to sound like the smartest one in the room,” Hilo replied. “The bottom line is we’re stuck: Most people hate the foreigners being here and want to suck on Ayt’s teat every time she whips out another of her speeches, but we’ve tied ourselves to their godsdamned money.”
Shae crossed her arms in response to Hilo’s squint. “You’re looking at me as if it’s my fault the Espenians are demanding and unscrupulous. Yes, they’ll try to take advantage of us, they’ll make offensive requests, they’ll bargain for the most they can get out of every situation—that’s their way. But they’re still our strongest edge over the Mountain.” The destruction of the Mountain’s shine factories in Ygutan five months ago had dealt Ayt a serious financial blow. Shae was keen to press the advantage by cutting off their rival’s other overseas investment options, especially in Espenia, where the Weather Man’s office was focusing on expansion. “The Mountain is still in a stronger position than we are with their core businesses in Kekon. But if we secure trade agreements that benefit us and lock them out of the Espenian market, we could be the larger clan in five to ten years.”
Hilo approved of Shae and her people eking out every economic victory they could over the Mountain—anything to weaken Ayt Mada’s position as a leader and strengthen internal opposition against her—but he was not willing to wait five to ten years for results. K-Star Freight was prospering, raising the Ven family’s prominence in the Mountain, but Ven Sando’s opposition to his Pillar had not yet spawned any concrete action that would see Ayt feeding worms in the Heaven Awaiting Cemetery.
“Ayt’s been too quiet lately,” Hilo mused. Perhaps she wasn’t as eager to make public appearances now that Shae had cut off half her ear, but Hilo wasn’t so optimistic as to think she had been dissuaded by her failed attempt to oust Shae and bring down No Peak in the process. More likely she was simply gathering her resources for some other attack. “Money’s not enough; we need to keep stirring the Mountain’s shit so it doesn’t settle. Have you dug into the Iwe family, like I asked?”
Shae frowned at the way Hilo changed the subject, but she said, “There’s nothing on Iwe Kalundo. He wears two jade rings on his smallest fingers, and a band of three stones on his left wrist, and has never had any problems so far as anyone knows.” Shae opened her hands and turned them up. “But… his aunt nearly died of an SN1 overdose two years ago and doesn’t wear any jade now. Both Iwe’s youngest brother and his cousins are addicts, and they use the same supplier—a dealer in the Crossyards who’s rumored to quietly sell the highest-quality shine to Green Bones.”
Hilo eyed his sister, impressed. “How did you find this out?”
“Rats are everywhere these days,” Shae said, so smugly that Hilo smirked. Gossip about drug addiction and vice was not exactly the sort of intelligence he’d imagined the Weather Man’s network would be able to deliver, but if Shae was exercising some creativity in her role, he wasn’t about to complain.
Wen smiled and spoke up. Long gone, it seemed, were the days when she would hold her tongue except when she and Hilo were alone. “If we know who to look for, it shouldn’t take long for Kehn’s Fingers to find this dealer.”
“Do it quietly,” Hilo said to the Horn. “Tell me when you’ve found him, but don’t act unless I say so. You have enough to do already, handling the raids on Ti Pasuiga.”
Kehn’s wife, Lina, came back into the dining room with Ru, his diaper freshly changed, and handed him back to Wen. She kissed her husband goodnight and said that she was going back to their house to finish marking term papers. Kehn nodded, gazing after her with the obvious besotted look of a newly married man. Hilo smiled to see it. The wedding last month had been a lavish event befitting the Horn’s status, and between Lina’s enormous extended family and all the Fists and Fingers of No Peak, it had taken up most of the General Star Hotel. Tar made a teasing face of mock disgust and threw a napkin at his brother.
Kehn tossed the napkin back at Tar, his usual gruffness reasserting itself as he returned his attention to the table. “Our attacks on Ti Pasuiga—there’s good and bad news,” he said. “The good news is that we’ve killed dozens of Zapunyo’s rockfish, confiscated hundreds of kilos of raw scrap, and about five hundred million dien worth of cut jade.”