Jade War

CHAPTER 35 Stranger Allies

A year after the Republic of Espenia entered the Oortokon War, the secretary of international affairs made his first visit to Kekon as part of an eight-country state tour. He was welcomed by a formal military procession in front of Wisdom Hall, as well as a crowd of silent antiwar protestors and scathing editorial commentary from the Kekonese press. On the last day of his three-day visit, the secretary held a closed-door meeting on Euman Island Naval Base with Chancellor Son Tomarho, selected members of his cabinet in the Royal Council, and the top leadership of No Peak. The government of the ROE had learned over time that political power on Kekon was openly underwritten by the jade warrior class, and nothing in that small country was ever accomplished without the backing of at least one of the major Green Bone clans.

Hilo tried to leave the dealings with politicians to Shae whenever he could get away with it, but he couldn’t reasonably refuse a meeting with such a high-level Espenian diplomat without appearing to be deliberately insulting the ROE, something his Weather Man would counsel him against in no uncertain terms for a variety of reasons. Hilo, Shae, and Kehn were transported by private helicopter from Janloon to the airfield at Euman. When they arrived, they were met by the commanding officer, who Shae recognized and introduced as Colonel Leland Deiller, and his executive officer, a man by the name of Yancey, who escorted them across the grounds.

As they walked past a large training field, the low collective hum of unexpected jade auras caught Hilo’s attention. Two lines of soldiers carrying heavy packs of gear faced a smooth ten-meter wall. At a signal from their instructor, the first line sprinted forward, turned their backs to the wall, and crouched in readiness. The second line raced toward their comrades, who boosted them into the air in one simultaneous heaving of jade-fueled Strength. The heavily laden soldiers flew Light and hoisted themselves to the top of the wall—at least a majority of them did, a number did not make it and fell back to the ground. Those who succeeded turned around and used their own Strength to seize their fellows at the peak of their bounds and haul them up alongside.

Yancey noticed Hilo’s interest and explained, “Cadets of the Navy Angels, the most elite special ops division in the ROE military. Only thirty percent of those recruits will make it through basic IBJCS training.” Yancey had to nearly shout to be heard over Euman’s stiff wind.

At Hilo’s questioning glance, Shae translated both the officer’s words and the unfamiliar acronym. Hilo had heard of the Integrated Bioenergetic Jade Combat System—the long and sterile term the Espenians used to describe their version of the jade disciplines, adopted and modified from what they knew of Kekonese methods—but he had not actually seen it before. Kehn muttered, in a low aside, “You’ve got to hand it to the Espenians. They know how to cook scraps into a meal.” A Green Bone skilled in Lightness could get over the wall unaided. From their auras, it seemed the Espenian soldiers wore only as much jade as a middling graduate of Kaul Du Academy, but IBJCS trained them to act together to amplify their collective effectiveness. Kekonese culture revered the prowess of the superior jade warrior, accorded respect to the victors of duels, celebrated the heroism of patriotic Green Bone rebels in times past—but the Espenians took jade and issued it as military equipment with unsentimental uniformity. Hilo’s mouth twitched in a grimace of distaste. He was certain it was no coincidence the Green Bone visitors had been escorted along this path and allowed to witness the demonstration on the training field. Whatever the Espenians wanted to talk about this afternoon, they were underscoring their message by situating it in the center of their military presence on Kekon and prefacing it with a reminder that they, too, could use jade.

They reached the main building and were shown into a large, if spartan, meeting room, containing office chairs around a gray table, and the flag of the Republic of Espenia hanging on one wall. Secretary Corris, whom Hilo recognized from media photos, was already in the room, engaged in a conversation with another man that Shae whispered quickly was Ambassador Gregor Mendoff. The secretary and ambassador broke off their discussion and came over to shake hands. Quire Corris was a typical broad-chested, blue-eyed Espenian man who Hilo thought looked almost the same as Mendoff, without the mustache. Like many Espenians, he spoke animatedly, barely pausing long enough for the translator standing at his elbow to finish relaying his words, but there was also a certain reserve in his manner, a calculating, mercenary quality in his frank gaze. It wasn’t that the Espenians were greedy, precisely, Hilo thought, but they always seemed to be holding back some human warmth, shrewdly considering how to make the deals to get what they wanted.

Chancellor Son and a handful of other members of the Royal Council were also present. “Kaul-jen,” said Son, saluting him. If Secretary Corris and the other Espenians were surprised at either the Pillar’s youth relative to the other men in the room, or the deference paid to him by the official head of government, they were careful not to show it.

Besides the leaders of No Peak, there was one other individual in the room wearing jade: General Ronu Yasugon, senior military advisor to the Royal Council, and perhaps the only person in Kekonese government who could be said to be an exception to the ironclad cultural and legal prohibition against jade in political office. This one violation was deemed acceptable because, like medicine, martial education, and religious penitence, joining the Kekonese military was one of the few ways for a Green Bone to honorably renounce clan oaths and pledge loyalty to another calling. Unlike those other professions, however, jade-wearing individuals could not go into military service straight after graduation; they were expected to spend at least one year as a Finger. The clans made certain that most of the young jade talent went first to them; after a certain period, less promising Fingers were subtly or not-so-subtly encouraged to serve their country in uniform. General Ronu was an exception; he’d left the Mountain as a junior Fist to begin a military career eighteen years ago, and he wore more jade than most officers—a watch with six stones set into the steel band. He saluted Hilo, and the Pillar touched his forehead in greeting. “General.”

When everyone was seated, Secretary Corris began the meeting by talking about what a pleasant and productive visit he’d enjoyed, and thanking the government and the people of Kekon for being such generous hosts. He spoke at length about the importance of Kekon-Espenia relations and the premier’s commitment to continued strengthening of the political, economic, and military alliance between their two nations. “As different as our history and cultures are, we have one crucial thing in common,” said Corris, pausing to allow the translator to catch up. “A fierce sense of national pride and independence, and an equally fierce loyalty to our friends and allies.”

Those were at least two things, not one, Hilo felt like pointing out, but Ambassador Mendoff nodded and smiled in agreement, and the Kekonese listened politely to the foreigner’s hyperbole. Corris cleared his throat and said in a graver tone, “As you know, gentlemen—and ladies,” he added with a quick glance at Shae, “the Republic of Espenia has committed considerable resources to defending the sovereignty of Shotar against Ygutanian expansionism. Unfortunately, at this point in the campaign, it’s clear that we still have a long way to go to win the war in Oortoko.”

This was a rather significant admission. The Espenians, ever confident in their military might, had anticipated victory in Oortoko within a year. The eastern Shotarian province, however, was proving to be a difficult battleground for them. The terrain was hot, arid, and mountainous with plenty of places for the rebels to hide their camps and blend in among the civilian population. The ROE was unparalleled in the world in naval strength and also boasted a massive quantity of ground troops and bombs, but they were not accustomed to guerrilla warfare against entrenched enemies.

Colonel Deiller spoke up. “Due to the nature of the military engagement, small, nimble, special operations teams are proving the key to success in the Oortokon conflict. The physical and extrasensory advantages afforded by bioenergetic Kekonese jade allow our elite forces to operate with greater precision and effectiveness, thus minimizing civilian casualties.”

Hilo’s eyes narrowed in impatience. Was this entire meeting another of the foreigners’ attempts to persuade Kekon to sell them more jade? Shae had already made it clear to Mendoff and Deiller that the Kekon Jade Alliance would not be increasing quotas.

Secretary Corris raised his hands. “Now, I understand the issue of jade exports has been discussed at length before, and although my government is disappointed we can’t see eye to eye, we appreciate the pressures you face from prevailing public sentiment about the preservation of your natural resources. What we haven’t fully discussed yet is the potential for Kekon to provide military support in Oortoko.”

A frisson of discomfort traveled through the Kekonese side of the room. Chancellor Son leaned forward and placed his ample elbows on the table. “Secretary,” he said, speaking slowly for the translator, “we’re honored by your visit and we value the relationship between our nations, but you must understand: We are a small island nation. We’ve never committed aggression against other countries. In fact, as General Ronu can explain, our military is not designed for such things.”

Ronu was sitting slightly behind and to the left of the chancellor. At the sign that he’d been given permission to speak, he straightened and said, “We maintain a modest force of sixty thousand active-duty personnel to defend Kekon’s surrounding waters, airspace, and borders.” It was, indeed, a small number even for a country of only twelve million people. The military was accorded nominal respect, but hardly considered a vital national institution by the Kekonese.

“I think that’s rather understating the matter, isn’t it, Chancellor?” said Ambassador Mendoff, once Son’s and Ronu’s words had been smoothly relayed into Espenian. “Your official army includes several thousand personnel equipped with bioenergetic jade. And your real combat strength lies in the civilian population. When you take that into account, it’s no exaggeration to say you have the largest reserve force of jade-enhanced soldiers in the world.”

The discomfort deepened. Chancellor Son tugged at the collar of his shirt and glanced at Hilo, who was the only other person on the Kekonese side seated directly at the table in a position to speak with the same authority as Son. Slightly behind and to either side of him, Hilo could sense the aura of his Weather Man crackling with wary vexation and the rumble of displeasure from his Horn. The Espenians were astute—they understood that Kekon’s actual fighting capability was to be found in the ranks of the Green Bone clans—but their arrogance was staggering and offensive.

Hilo hated diplomatic bullshit. He considered letting Shae speak in his place; she was used to dealing with the foreigners and would no doubt give a tactful response. Instead he leaned forward. The Kekonese politicians around the table edged back. Fixing a look on the foreign secretary, the Pillar said, “Those jade soldiers, as you call them, live by a code that you wouldn’t understand.” Though his face retained a mild friendly neutrality, there was an edge to Hilo’s voice that made the translator hesitate a second before relaying his words. “Green Bones defend Kekon and fight for the clan they swear oaths to, not for any foreign government.”

“You’re the leader of your clan, Mr. Kaul-jen,” said Secretary Corris, without missing a beat. “So I assume it’s up to you to decide what your clan’s interests are. And from what I understand, it would seem they’re aligned with ours. Your people have been partnering with us to combat illegal jade and drug trafficking, seeking investment opportunities, and lobbying for reduced barriers to international business between our countries. Unlike the other prominent clan leader in this country, whose public rhetoric has been downright antagonistic and jingoistic, your family seems invested in continued good relations, which we greatly appreciate. That’s why we’re making an effort to maintain an open dialogue with you.” No Kekonese person in the room had failed to notice that Ayt Mada and representatives of the Mountain clan were not present.

Secretary Corris continued, “Premier Galtz, myself, and the secretary of the Industry Department are prepared to pass several of the trade reforms you’ve been asking for. We’ve already lifted restrictions on foreign real estate ownership, and we’re looking at reduced tariffs on Kekonese imports in select industries and a streamlined visa approval process for Kekonese expatriates working or pursuing higher education in Espenia. Of course, certain Kekonese companies and organizations that inspire our confidence would be deemed preferred partners.” The secretary inclined his head to make it clear that his statement applied to the people in this room.

Hilo was somewhat surprised; the Espenians were not as ignorant about the clans as he’d assumed. They were offering something that would give No Peak an advantage over the Mountain, and they knew enough to understand how valuable that was to the Kaul family. Hilo suspected that if he turned to consult with his Weather Man, she could quantify the value in terms of dien—but there was no point. Everything was a transaction to the Espenians—and some prices were too high to pay.

Hilo laid his hands on the table and said, “My Weather Man has been working hard to expand our businesses, so naturally we’d like to see all those things you mention come true.” Shae had once told him that the Espenians interpreted the word no merely as the starting point for negotiation, so he paused to make it absolutely clear that he meant what he said next. “But as Pillar of my clan, I will never send Green Bones to fight for strangers, no matter what you offer.”

The secretary appeared unperturbed by Hilo’s blunt refusal. “Kekon is the linchpin of our strategic presence in the East Amaric. If we can’t count on your military contribution to this vital effort, then it’s all the more important that we have your staunch political support.”

Chancellor Son let out a cough. “Kekon is hosting more foreign troops on our soil than at any time since we achieved independence in the Many Nations War. That is considerable support.”

“It’s to our mutual benefit,” said Colonel Deiller. “The presence of ROE forces on Euman Island acts as a deterrent to aggression in this region and ensures your country’s safety.”

“A few months ago,” Hilo said in a soft, almost placid voice, “I spoke to a couple whose sixteen-year-old daughter was raped by Espenian soldiers. Ask Mr. and Mrs. Eyun if the foreign troops gambling, whoring, and getting drunk on shore leave in our city streets is good for safety.”

Ambassador Mendoff winced in distaste. “Tragic, isolated incidents notwithstanding,” he said, undeterred, “what we’re concerned about is Kekon’s willingness to stand firm on issues of regional security, namely, acting as a reliable bulwark against the growing threat of Ygutan.”

“Ygutan’s aims are to expand its territory and extend its influence in any way possible,” added Colonel Deiller. “The Directorate in Dramsk and their body of religious leaders, the Protecks, are preaching a vision of manifest national destiny in which the Ygut Coalition stretches across the continent of Orius from the Amaric to the Ullyric Ocean. If, God forbid, Oortoko falls to the Ygutanians, Dramsk will be emboldened to commit further acts of aggression. Kekon’s proximity to the Orius continent, its unique resources, and its strategic position in the West Tun Sea would make it an obvious target.”

The Kekonese politicians exchanged sullen glances but did not respond to Deiller’s assertions. An attack by Ygutan was possible, but Hilo was certain the Espenians were overstating the danger. The truth was that an Ygutanian victory in Oortoko would have a far more certain and immediate consequence for Kekon: It would cause the ROE to panic and pour even more military resources into the region, to assert control over Kekon before their enemies did, all in the stated interests of “defending” their allies.

“We’re aware,” said Secretary Corris, “that there’s a growing desire from the civilian population, and from some parts of your government, for Kekon to increase its humanitarian involvement in the war, particularly in regards to admitting and resettling refugees.”

Chancellor Son nodded warily. Mounting civilian casualties in the Oortoko region had captured the public consciousness; people were moved by the plight of the ethnic Kekonese in the region—those who’d been relocated to Shotar generations ago, oppressed and discriminated against by Shotarian society, and were now suffering in a bloody contest between foreign powers. Even the prevalent stereotype of Keko-Shotarians as mixed blood, nephrite-wearing barukan gangsters had not discouraged grassroots calls to repatriate Oortokon refugees. That, Hilo mused cynically, was the undeniable power of television. At what other time in history had the Kekonese ever bothered to care about what was happening to people overseas?

“The human sentiment is understandable, but it poses a security risk that we’re not sure you’ve fully analyzed,” said Ambassador Mendoff. It irritated Hilo that the Espenians kept changing who was speaking, so he was forced to continue shifting his attention. Secretary Corris was supposedly the highest-ranking person on their side, and it seemed the others were in agreement with him, so why was it necessary for them all to take turns jumping in unprompted?

As if to underscore Hilo’s thoughts, Colonel Deiller said, “Ygutanian agents are prevalent in Oortoko, and our intelligence has confirmed that there are ties between the rebels and Keko-Shotarian organized crime groups. Unless Kekon is vigilant about guarding its borders, it risks Ygutanian infiltration, which would be an unacceptable danger to our military assets here.”

“Your assets,” Chancellor Son echoed dubiously.

“It’s in your interest to take this threat seriously,” Colonel Deiller responded. “Currently, there are no restrictions on travel within Kekon. Civilians move freely between Euman Island and the rest of the country. That would change if there were Ygutanian agents within your population who could steal military information, sabotage our facilities, or send bombing coordinates to Dramsk. They might even work to undermine your government and install a more Ygutanian-friendly regime. The best line of joint defense against such unacceptable risks is to prevent them from entering in the first place.”

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.”

Not for the first time, Hilo envied his brother-in-law. The duties of the Horn were difficult and dangerous, but simpler and more tangible. “The bad news,” Kehn went on, “is that clever dog Zapunyo keeps getting more creative. I’ve seen jade disguised as buttons and children’s toy marbles, packed in frozen seafood, or hidden in canned goods. We catch some of it, but the Espenian navy catches more. Another reason why Shae-jen is right. We need to stay in bed with the foreigners if we want to put that Uwiwan dog out of business.”

Tar shook his head at the irony. “The spennies start a war that grows the black market for jade. We get them to help us shut down the smuggling that they caused in the first place, and in return they expect us to be grateful and do their bidding like children.”

The political demands of the Espenians, the constant threat of the Mountain, the dirty schemes of Ti Pasuiga—any one of them was more than enough to have to deal with, but they were all connected in inextricable ways that made Hilo frustrated and uneasy. “It’s getting late,” he said. “That’s enough talk for tonight.”

Kehn and Tar departed for their own homes. Niko came down the stairs to say that he’d had a nightmare and didn’t want to be alone. Wen handed Ru to Hilo and rose with a pregnant groan to settle the boy back to bed. The Pillar and the Weather Man were left alone in the dining room except for the drowsy child in Hilo’s arms and the sound of Kyanla doing dishes in the kitchen. Shae appeared deep in thought; Hilo noticed that she’d developed the habit of rubbing absently at her bare throat where her two-tier jade choker had once rested.

Shae dropped her hand and turned to him. “I’m going to Espenia for a couple of weeks,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about what Anden told me over the phone, and I think we should meet these people, these Green Bones in Port Massy. One thing was clear from the meeting on Euman Island today: The Espenians have leverage over us because they have people here, and they know more about what’s happening in our country than we know about what’s going on in theirs. It seems everything the Espenians do affects us in some way, and from what Anden’s said, their largest city is turning into a battleground for jade, just like here at home. I need to go over there and learn more.”

Hilo considered her words. “No,” he said after a minute. “You need to stay here. There’s too much political bullshit going on with the Royal Council, the KJA, and the Espenians these days. You can’t afford to be gone from Kekon that long in case something happens, and now that you have the support of the clan back under you, the last thing you should do is leave Ship Street and travel to Espenia again.” The Weather Man opened her mouth to argue, but Hilo said, “I’ll go.”

Shae did not mask her surprise. “You… will?”

“I’m the Pillar; if this could be as important as you say, I should handle it in person. You keep telling me that our advantage is in Espenia, that we need to invest there. I’m going to that country to see it for myself.” Part of the problem, Hilo thought, was that foreign people and businesses had always been Shae’s thing. Now they were too much a part of No Peak’s fate, indeed Kekon’s fate, for him to leave them entirely to his sister’s attention. Hilo had always found that when things were unclear, when he couldn’t immediately see the right action to take in a confusing situation, he needed to get closer. Talk to the right people, understand it all better. The solution was always there on the street, somewhere in plain sight.

Ru began to fuss, and Hilo stood up to walk around and calm him. “Besides,” Hilo said quietly, “it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Andy. Too long, I think.”