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The Sakuriji

Council Chambers


A trade mission had arrived at Colemeno!

This was, in Majel ziaGorn’s opinion, the single most significant thing that had happened to the planet—to the entire Redlands System!—since the arrival of the Dust itself.

Not that Colemeno had lacked for trade—the Iverson Loop was regular, as were the Evrits; the Mikancy less so—traveling from worlds likewise caught inside the cloud. Colemeno had been the terminus of their routes.

But now the Dust was—not gone, not yet. But it had thinned enough that the Redlands were once again visible to the universe. The proof of that was the arrival of the Tree-and-Dragon Trade Mission.

The Council of the Civilized had not been best pleased by this sudden arrival. History had taught Colemeno to be timid, and it had seemed that the majority of councilors might have called the Dust back, had that been possible.

However, confronted with the reality of an orbiting ship proposing to deliver a master trader and his team to the port, their purpose to explore mutual opportunity, the Council had risen to meet duty. They had allowed the trade mission to arrive, and had produced a reception in their honor.

Subsequently, Portmaster krogerSlyte had assigned the trade mission offices on Colemenoport, and the penthouse suite in the Wayfarer, the port’s best residence, meant to house important visitors.

The Tree-and-Dragon Trade Mission being greatly important to the future of Colemeno, in Majel’s opinion, this was only proper courtesy. However, Council Chair gorminAstir had seemed . . . surprised . . . when the portmaster revealed this during her report to Council.

Still, the thing was done, and Portmaster krogerSlyte continued speaking with scarcely a pause, relating that the master trader had inquired after his opposite number on-port.

“We have no master traders on Colemeno,” Councilor tryaBent said tartly. “Shall we elevate someone so that the Liaden master trader may converse on his own level?”

Portmaster krogerSlyte frowned slightly at the councilor, and professed herself saddened to have so poorly conveyed the master trader’s intent.

“He wondered if he ought to interface with my office, or with the market master, or if perhaps there was in place a liaison committee. He wishes to keep us current with his work, and also seeks a—source, should he—” She smiled briefly. “Actually, he had phrased it—when he comes athwart law or custom—to advise him.”

She looked back to tryaBent.

“He was everything that was polite and forthcoming, Councilor. Merely, he wishes to proceed in an orderly, efficient manner, while avoiding law-breaking or offenses against custom.” She paused, half-smiling, and added, “He said that local custom trips even master traders and that at his point in life, he needed to be wary of falls.”

A slight ripple of amusement passed through the council chamber as Portmaster krogerSlyte resumed her seat.

Council Chair gorminAstir drank from her glass. Other councilors likewise refreshed themselves, or shifted in their chairs, leaned over to talk to their neighbor, or glanced at their notepads.

Majel looked at the agenda projected on the wall above the council chair’s head.

New business was next.

A shiver wracked him. This was it, he thought. This was opportunity, and it was his to seize.

Majel took a sip of water and a deep breath.

Council Chair gorminAstir put her glass down, glanced around the table, and nodded. A clear tone sounded.

The babble of voices died as the councilors looked toward the head of the table.

Council Chair gorminAstir folded her hands before her.

“Who,” she asked, “has new business?”

Majel raised his hand so quickly the foot of his chair squeaked against the floor.

Council Chair gorminAstir inclined her head.

“The Chair sees Majel ziaGorn of the Citizens Coalition.”

Majel came to his feet and bowed to the honor of the Council Chair.

“Chair gorminAstir. Colleagues.” His voice was firm; that was good. He had practiced long hours to perfect a firm, reasonable address. “I propose the creation of an official trade liaison, to stand between the Tree-and-Dragon Trade Mission and the Council, in order to facilitate understanding and the open sharing of information.”

“Do you?” Council Chair gorminAstir said softly. “Do you, indeed?”

“Ridiculous!” said Councilor tryaBent, somewhat more loudly. “Who would take on so much additional work?”

“I would,” Majel said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Portmaster krogerSlyte smile, even as Councilor seelyFaire leapt to her feet.

“Absolutely not! It’s too dangerous.”

Majel gritted his teeth. Councilor seelyFaire was one of those who saw him, and his constituency, as little better than clumsy children, whom it was the primary duty of the Council of the Civilized to protect.

“Colemenoport is hardly dangerous,” he said now, and glanced aside. “Am I correct, Portmaster?”

“Councilor, you are. Colemenoport is not as a rule dangerous. In addition, it has its own guard house, with a full complement of proctors, and Truthseers. There are holding cells, which Chief bennaFalm assures me are seldom in use.”

“That is not what I meant!” Councilor seelyFaire snapped. “Plainly put, the trade mission is dangerous!” She glared ’round the table. “You who were present on Ribbon Dance Hill, you saw what the master trader and the ship’s captain managed there! Will we put one of our most fragile in their way?”

Majel ground down on the flare of anger. Useless—even counterproductive—to be angry at someone who wished only to protect the vulnerable.

“I was at Ribbon Dance Hill,” said the council chair, “in company with the Warden, Councilor targElmina, and Councilor azieEm. What we witnessed was, indeed, extraordinary. Master Trader yos’Galan and Captain Mendoza were god-ridden. This had been foreseen by our own Oracle, and reported to this Council by the Warden of Civilization some time ago. The intent of the gods was to reunite themselves with the universe. They accomplished their intent, whereupon the master trader and the captain were returned to themselves. Attending councilors and the Warden made this report to the Council.”

She glanced around the table, her eyes lingering on Majel.

“It is true that the Trade Mission’s principals are Talents—”

“Which is where the danger lurks,” Councilor seelyFaire interrupted. “Ma’am, Councilor ziaGorn is Deaf. He cannot defend himself from an attack.”

“Which is why,” said Councilor azieEm, in her soft voice that was nonetheless perfectly intelligible to the entire table, “we routinely send the Deaf to deal with the Haosa.”

Councilor seelyFaire blinked.

“I can vouch,” Portmaster krogerSlyte said into the small breach created by seelyFaire’s astonishment, “that the trade mission is composed of civilized persons. I do not foresee an attack of any kind—what would be the purpose? Master Trader yos’Galan wishes to evaluate Colemeno’s value to ongoing trade, and to perhaps establish a Tree-and-Dragon office at the port. Attacking citizens is inconsistent with those goals.”

“And yet it is Tree-and-Dragon,” tryaBent said. “Clan Korval was well known for precipitating violence.”

“For precipitating unlooked-for events,” Councilor ivenAlyatta, their archivist, corrected sharply. “I can provide you with cites, Councilor. Also, I believe the Council is aware of the debt the citizens—all of the citizens—of Colemeno owe to Clan Korval and Clan Ixin. Had they not defied the Council of Liad, our ancestors would have been purged, rather than removed from harm’s way.”

“And placed into the way of harm of another type and disposition,” growled tryaBent.

Council Chair gorminAstir raised her eyebrows.

“Surely not even you, Coracta, can blame Clan Korval for conditions peculiar to Colemeno.”

tryaBent pressed her lips together, and glanced down at her notepad.

Portmaster krogerSlyte raised her hand.

“Speak,” said the council chair.

“Thank you, ma’am. As I believe you were about to say, the principals of the trade mission are Talents, but their security team are not. Surely that tells us something about the trade mission and Tree-and-Dragon?” She glanced around the table. “I think that Councilor ziaGorn’s proposal has merit, and I second it.”

“Thank you,” Council Chair gorminAstir said. She looked around the table once more. “Councilor seelyFaire, you have been heard. Is there further discussion?”

Councilor seelyFaire sat down. No one else spoke.

Council Chair gorminAstir inclined her head.

“Those in favor of establishing the adjunct position of trade liaison, to be filled by Councilor ziaGorn, in the particular case of interfacing with the Tree-and-Dragon Trade Mission, effective immediately, raise your hands now.”

Two abstained—seelyFaire and tryaBent. Majel took a deep breath.

A bell rang, the sound silvery in the silence.

Council Chair gorminAstir inclined her head.

“The motion passes. Councilor ziaGorn, if the liaison’s office requires anything in order to facilitate its work, please let the Council know. We will expect reports at every meeting of the Council of the Whole. In between, your contact will be Portmaster krogerSlyte, unless she objects.”

“No, ma’am,” said the portmaster, “no objection at all.”

What did you just do? Majel asked himself, feeling panic starting in his chest. He breathed it down, rose again and bowed to those assembled.

“Councilors, I thank you,” he said. “I will do my best for the citizens—all of the citizens”—he smiled at Archivist ivenAlyatta—“of Colemeno.”

He sat down.

“Very good,” said Council Chair gorminAstir briskly. “Is there other new business?”


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