Jade War

Son Tomarho came out of the shower humming a tune and walked into the sitting room of his two-story house in the wealthy neighborhood of Green Plain. He startled to find a tall, older man sitting on his sofa. At first he had no idea who the man was, though his eyes fell immediately upon the jade carried on leather bands around the stranger’s wrists. Only when the intruder said, “Chancellor Son, I’m sorry to surprise you like this,” did Son recognize Nau Suen, the Horn of the Mountain, and he knew that, aisho notwithstanding, there was a better than average chance he would be dead in the next five minutes.

The former chancellor of the Royal Council had been in some tight spots in his many decades of business and political life, and he managed to keep cool and collected now, as he said, “Nau-jen, you’ve caught me at a disadvantage, I’m afraid. I would’ve been happy to meet and speak to you at a time when I wasn’t so… immodest.” He gestured self-deprecatingly at his semi-nudity. A towel covered his lower body, but he was otherwise unclothed. “If you’ll wait, I’d prefer to put on some clothes.”

“By all means,” said Nau. “Take your time.”

Son retreated into his bedroom and put on pants and a shirt. His mind raced. During his years as chancellor, he’d been given a government security detail, but now that he was once again an ordinary councilman on his way to retirement, he’d deemed personal bodyguards to be unnecessary. He had a home security system, and if he triggered an alarm, it would alert the security firm, which would send… what? Some guards who would get here too late and be no match for a superior Green Bone like Nau Suen anyway. No, he would have to survive by talking his way out of this, as he had more than once in his life before. Son smoothed down his wet hair so that it covered the bald spot on the top of his head, put on his slippers, and walked back out to the sitting room. He gave the Horn of the Mountain a polished but cheerless politician’s smile and sat down across from him. “Are you here to threaten me?”

“Not at all,” said Nau. “You’re a respected and senior statesman who’s served this country honorably over your many years in politics. That would be uncouth of the Mountain clan. You must forgive me for my unexpected appearance; I needed to speak to you in private.”

Son relaxed only slightly. “Well, then, what can I do for the Horn of the Mountain?”

Nau sat back and drummed his fingers on the armrests. He was an intense man who seemed younger than his salt-and-pepper hair would suggest, and he had a piercing gaze that seemed not to blink as much as normal people. “My Pillar is concerned about the fate of the Oortokon Conflict Refugee Act,” Nau said. “The proposed legislation has been hotly debated and has languished in committees for more than a year. Now that a bill is finally coming to a vote, it appears that the Royal Council remains nearly evenly split on this issue and you, Chancellor, might cast the deciding vote when it is brought to the floor of Wisdom Hall next month. Where do you stand on the matter?”

“There are strong arguments to be made on both sides of the issue,” Son said carefully. Some of those arguments were continually imposing themselves upon him in the form of phone calls from Ambassador Mendoff. With the Oortokon War grinding to a stalemate, the Espenians were anticipating a longer-term standoff with their enemies and were more concerned than ever with ensuring their regional allies resisted any potential Ygutanian infiltration. Son said, “In the end, I will have to weigh the best interests of the nation and vote with my conscience.”

“What if I were to tell you that the Mountain clan is deeply committed to making sure that anti-immigration interests don’t interfere with our better nature as a country. We would urge all members of the Royal Council to give our brothers and sisters of Kekonese ancestry in Oortoko the asylum they deserve from the predations of power-hungry imperialist foreigners. Would that sway your decision?”

“Nau-jen, I would listen to all reasonable arguments,” said Son.

“What if I were to say that we could make it personally worth your while to vote for the bill?”

“I am not in the Royal Council for personal gain, Nau-jen,” said Son with a strong note of indignation. “But I’m certainly willing to speak to you and to Ayt-jen about your concerns.”

Nau lowered his chin and regarded Son with calm understanding. “I don’t expect that would make any difference, as you’ve already met with Kaul Shaelinsan and promised her that in order to maintain No Peak’s preferential standing with the Espenians, you will use your chancellor emeritus status to oppose the bill and make sure that it is blocked by the Council. Isn’t that true? You remain a No Peak man through and through.”