CHAPTER
26
War Maneuvers
Every seat in the long boardroom of the Ship Street office was taken. A dozen Lantern Men of No Peak—the presidents and executives of some of the country’s largest companies—had come to hear directly from the Pillar and to question him about defensive measures and security for their operations. While disputes over territory and business were not uncommon, the prospect of outright war between the two largest clans in the country was unprecedented, and it had the crowd of businessmen in a state of considerable consternation.
“Will projects that have already been granted the clan’s patronage be allowed to continue on schedule and as planned?” asked a real estate developer Lan recognized as one of the Lantern Men he’d met on Boat Day.
Doru bobbed his elongated head. “Currently, all initiatives that have been approved and funded by the clan will continue to be supported.”
“Will greater security measures be taken to protect our business properties?” asked a Lantern Man who had several retail locations in the Armpit.
Lan said, “The Horn has been taking steps to ensure that clan territory is defended. Priority will be given to districts where the threat is greatest.”
“What about the possibility of the Mountain disrupting commerce? They control much of the trucking sector. Might they not attempt to lock us out and make it difficult for us to deliver goods?” asked a man with a furniture import
business.
“And what of sectors that will be hurt by the drop in tourism?” interrupted a hotel owner. “Does the clan plan to do anything to support the hospitality industry?”
Lan stood up; the murmurs running around the table ceased. “I cannot guarantee there will not be any impact on your businesses,” he said. “We are being threatened by another clan and have to be prepared for difficult times.
What I can promise is that we will defend ourselves—every part of the clan, every sector, every business.”
This seemed to make an impression on those gathered. The Pillar noticed their gazes lingering on all the new jade he was wearing, the irrefutable proof that he’d recently been victorious, that he could back up words with force.
Lan cast an assessing look down the table. “I’m afraid we can’t address every question at this time. If you have additional specific concerns, make an appointment to discuss them with the Weather Man and myself. Enjoy your afternoon, gentlemen.”
“May the gods shine favor on No Peak,” some of the Lantern Men murmured, saluting as they exited. When they were all gone, Lan turned to Doru.
“I would like you to go to Ygutan,” he said.
Doru adeptly masked any surprise he felt. “Is that necessary, Lan-se?
Surely, it’s important that I remain in Janloon at this time to help you deal with the Lantern Men.”
“We can put off additional meetings with the Lantern Men for a few weeks. I want you to find out what you can about the Mountain’s shine- producing operations in Ygutan. Where are their facilities, who are their suppliers and distributors, how much business they’re already doing. Pull every string we have in that country and do it quietly. We need to know where our enemy is investing. It might be information that we can use against them in the future if we need to.”
Doru pursed his thin lips. Perhaps he sensed an ulterior motive; ever since the duel at the Factory, Lan had been guarded around the Weather Man, and Doru surely understood that he was out of favor, but Lan did not want him to suspect anything beyond that. Allowing some of his true anger to show, the Pillar said harshly, “I need someone I trust to do this, Doru-jen. I wouldn’t send anyone less capable or discreet. We’ve had our differences lately, but
we can’t afford to have any doubts come between us right now. Will you do as I say from now on or not? If not, I’ll accept your resignation as Weather Man. You can keep the house; I wouldn’t make you move.”
He saw that he’d gambled correctly; the old advisor relaxed a little. Surely if the Pillar suspected Doru of treachery or meant to harm him, he wouldn’t show his emotions like this. He would be careful to pretend to reconcile and keep him close. Doru was reassured; he said quickly, “You wound me, Lan- se. I’ve disagreed with you only out of concern for the clan and for your safety. You’re right, of course; we must find out more about the Mountain’s operations in Ygutan. I’ll leave tomorrow.”
Lan nodded and said, sounding mollified, “I appreciate your concerns, Uncle Doru. I need you now more than ever. I’m sending two of the Horn’s men with you to Ygutan. It’s not a very safe country, and gods forbid anything should happen.”
The faint smile that had begun to crawl over Doru’s mouth dissolved at this news. He guessed at the truth: Lan did indeed want information about the Mountain’s operations in Ygutan, but more importantly, he wanted Doru out of the way, watched constantly by Hilo’s men, something he could not accomplish here where Doru held sway on Ship Street, surrounded by his own people. He wasn’t worried about Doru’s activities in Ygutan. Hilo’s men would report back regularly and would corroborate everything Doru discovered. There was nothing the man could do against the clan.
Lan’s outburst of pique had disguised any other negative intent Doru might have Perceived, and having already agreed to go, the Weather Man could not disagree with the Pillar’s security measures. “Whatever you think necessary, Lan-se,” he said.
As soon as Doru was on a plane, Lan asked Woon to arrange an urgent meeting on short notice with Chancellor Son Tomarho and twenty-five other members of the Royal Council of Kekon over an invited lunch at the Grand Island Grill & Lounge.
The Grand Island was on the penthouse floor of the twenty-eight-story Eight Skies Hotel in upscale North Sotto. The Lantern Man who owned the Eight Skies closed it to other customers at Lan’s request. The Pillar arrived
early with Woon and greeted each of the councilmen as they arrived. News of the duel at the Factory had been all over Janloon, and everyone Lan met these days noticed and remarked on the new jade he’d added to his belt, the cuffs on his wrists, the cord of beads around his neck. If it weren’t for the immense importance of public perception right now, Lan would’ve resisted wearing all the acquired jade. The injury he’d sustained from absorbing and repulsing Gam’s Channeling attack lingered and made it hard to bear the heavy load.
He’d been to Dr. Truw for healing sessions and wasn’t feeling as ill as he’d been immediately after the duel, but he wasn’t feeling well either. Sometimes his heart would begin to race or he would break into a dizzy sweat. Anxiety flared without warning. His sleeplessness worsened and he was often edgy, off-kilter.
“Far do your enemies flee, Kaul-jen,” the councilmen said as they arrived, voicing the traditional expression of congratulations given to a recently victorious Green Bone.
“By the luck of Jenshu’s favor,” Lan replied, thanking them before inquiring, “How’s your wife’s health, Mr. Loyi?” or “Mrs. Nurh, did your house fare all right in the typhoon?” These twenty-one men and four women were the most senior politicians loyal to No Peak. They came from longtime Lantern Men or Green Bone families and owed their political and financial success to the clan. Together, they held significant sway over the three- hundred-member Royal Council of Kekon.
After a two-hour-long, no-expenses-spared lunch of mango coleslaw, fire- breathing soup, and grilled octopus, during which no business was discussed, Lan motioned for the table to be cleared. He began by commending Chancellor Son at length for his farsightedness in proposing the recent bill to reform KJA ownership laws. “The No Peak clan completely supports the government’s wish to ensure that the stewardship of Kekon’s jade is balanced and transparent. I’m grateful to be able to count on the clan’s friends in the Royal Council to do what is right for the country.” Chancellor Son beamed and waved a fat hand modestly as the other council members tapped the table in applause. It was all in politeness, as everyone in the room was surely aware it had been Lan himself who’d instructed Son to take such steps.
Lan let the applause fade, then said, somberly, “Unfortunately, I must make you aware that these efforts come too late to rectify wrongs that have already occurred.” He explained that he had brought them here so they would
hear it from him first and directly: He would be exercising his codirectorship powers to suspend the activities of the Kekon Jade Alliance, bringing all mining operations to an immediate and indefinite halt. The clan had discovered significant financial discrepancies between mine production and Treasury records, he said, and given the importance of jade to the nation’s economy, security, and identity, mining could not be allowed to continue until an independent audit was conducted. He strongly urged the Royal Council to call for and administer one as soon as possible. Operations would not recommence until the problems had been identified and the KJA reform bills passed to ensure future oversight.
Son Tomarho was the first to break the stunned hush that followed the Pillar’s statement. The chancellor leaned his heavy elbows on the table and cleared his throat loudly, in a way that Lan could tell was meant to express the man’s disappointment that he had not been personally consulted before such a drastic decision. “With all respect, Kaul-jen, why is this the first time we are hearing about these accounting discrepancies? And why then is the Weather Man not here to explain them?”
“The Weather Man is away on other important clan business,” Lan said, answering the second question and ignoring the first. Lan could not have discussed his intentions with Son earlier without risking Doru getting wind of them—unless he’d revealed to the chancellor his unproven suspicions of treachery within the leadership of the clan, something he would absolutely not do with any Lantern Man, no matter how senior. If Doru was indeed a Mountain collaborator and complicit or responsible for the discrepancies Shae had discovered, by the time he returned from Ygutan, it would be too late for him to halt an official investigation into the KJA’s books.
The long-faced councilwoman Nurh Uma asked the question on everyone’s minds. “Are we correct to assume you believe the Mountain clan is behind this?”
Lan gestured for the servers to refill the guests’ teacups. He didn’t drink from his own steaming cup; he’d been running a slight fever since last night and hot liquids made him sweat too profusely in public. “Yes,” he said, “that’s exactly what I believe.”
“I find it difficult to believe that the Mountain is unilaterally manipulating the jade supply so egregiously behind the backs of the council and the other clans,” said white-haired councilman Loyi Tuchada with obvious skepticism
in his voice.
“I would believe it,” said Nurh, who had family members on both the business and military sides of the clan. “But Ayt Mada’s representatives will surely deny any wrongdoing. What do you hope to accomplish with this audit, Kaul-jen?”
“The clans depend on the support of the people as much as the people depend on the protection of the clans; it has always been this way,” Lan said.
“The nation will not want one clan to become too powerful, to control more jade than all the others. If it comes to light that the Mountain has acted against the good of the country, public and political opinion will turn against them. The results of the audit will lend urgency and credence to the council’s goals of passing stricter oversight over KJA activities.”
Lan stopped to take a surreptitious, focusing breath. He’d abstained from eating much lunch, but nevertheless he felt tired and mildly woozy. It was an effort to keep his attention entirely on controlling this important conversation.
Fortunately, it was relatively easy to fool jadeless councilmen. They mistook his moments of weakness for authoritative pauses. “For years, Kekon has been fortunate to enjoy stability and economic growth,” Lan continued. “We have foreign investment, people drive nice cars, our cities are booming—all things that my grandfather’s generation couldn’t have imagined. At the heart of this wealth and security is jade. Which means that the clans who control jade must be held accountable.”
The councilmen nodded; this was a point on which they could all agree.
One of them, Vang Hajuda, began to say something, but Lan’s Perception began playing tricks on him—it turned abruptly white with background noise.
The individual energies of the people in the room, combined with hundreds more on all the floors beneath them, all the way down to the thousands more walking on the busy street and driving past in the cars outside, all crowded into Lan’s mind unfiltered, interfering with one another in a sudden cacophony of nonsense, like a bad television signal blaring static.
Lan’s head throbbed with pain. He felt, for a second, as if he were dangling high in the air atop a column of nothing but meaningless energy babble. Under the table, he gripped one of his chair’s armrests, hanging on to its reassuring solidity. Lan turned away and brought a hand up to shield his lips as he leaned over to Woon, sitting directly on his left. “Pretend to be telling me something,” he whispered.
His Pillarman bent next to his ear worriedly. “Is it really bad this time, Lan-jen? Do we need to make an excuse to leave?”
“No,” said Lan. Sweat had broken out on his brow, but the moment was already passing. The feverish confusion of his jade senses receded. His Perception settled and grew focused again. “Just tell me what he said.”
“He wants assurances there won’t be more bloodshed.”
Lan straightened to face the table just as Vang finished asking a question.
“I apologize for the interruption,” Lan said.
There was a minor ripple of consternation down the table; they were watching him closely. Vang repeated himself with a touch of pique. “If we bring these issues you’ve placed before us to the Royal Council, can we count on you, Kaul-jen, to try to reestablish the peace between the clans? No one wants violence on the streets, frightening people and driving away foreign business.”
“We all want peace,” Lan said. He let his words hang as he wetted his mouth with a bit of tea. “Unless our families are attacked. Then we do what we must.”
A number of the councilmen murmured in agreement. They were a strange breed, these politicians. As representatives of their districts, they pressured the Pillar for peace, but as clan loyalists and true Kekonese, they would never respect a leader unskilled or hesitant in dispensing violence. Lan killing Gam and wearing his jade gave them confidence in him as a leader and confidence in No Peak’s assertions. They would return to Wisdom Hall and work toward the purpose he’d set them.
“We understand perfectly where you’re coming from, Kaul-jen,” Vang persisted. He represented an area of Janloon that included the contested territory of Sogen. “You’ve always come across as a reasonable man. But what about your Horn? Does he also want peace? Can we count on him to also be reasonable?”
Lan laid a flat stare on Vang. “The Horn answers to me.”
Admonished, Vang fell silent. The Pillar drew his gaze slowly up and down the long table of faces. When no one questioned him further, he rose from his seat. “Stay as long as you like, my friends. Enjoy the tea, and the view.” He nodded toward the expansive windows looking out over the downtown skyline before turning back to the table. “Chancellor. Councilmen.
Your friendship to the clan, and your service to the country are, as always,
deeply appreciated.”
Once in the elevator, Lan mopped his brow and leaned against the wall, exhausted. He’d kept it together, but just barely. Dr. Truw had told him that his kie—the essential aura-producing energy of each individual that could be amplified and manipulated by contact with jade—was damaged, like an overstrained muscle. It might be weeks, even months until it fully recovered.
Lan did not have the luxury of months. He couldn’t afford to continue like this, with his jade tolerance and abilities handicapped, not with so much at stake. “Woon,” he said, putting a hand on the Pillarman’s arm. “I’ve always been grateful I can trust you. I have to ask something of you now that you must keep to yourself. You can’t let it slip even within the family.”
Woon regarded him with concern. “Lan-jen, I’ll do whatever you require of me.”
Lan nodded. “I need you to make a phone call.”