"I hear you had a busy day," Jhirad said.
Tatian glanced at þim: the mosstaas, then. "I suppose."
"Bribing the mosstaas in broad daylight right in the middle of the Souk," Valmy said, and gave another broad grin. "Even for Hara, that's ballsy."
"I don't see any Harans objecting," Tatian said, after a moment. "Or are you here on the chief's behalf?"
Jhirad snorted. "Godchep Stiller wouldn't care if you paid off a murder in his office, as long as he got his cut."
"True," Tatian said. "So..."
"A friendly warning," Valmy said, and Jhirad frowned.
"Not even that. Call it advice, Tatian--and friendly advice, too."
Tatian said nothing, waiting, watching them across the desk-top that ran with color. Jhirad and Valmy had been on Hara for nearly two hundred kilohours--better than sixteen local years, four standard contracts--and in that time they had gotten a reputation as tough but honest. If they were offering a warning, or advice, whatever they wanted to call it, he would be a fool not to listen to them.
Jhirad seemed to take his silence for consent. "Local politics are going to be complicated this year. You don't want--none of us off-worlders want to get involved in it. You can't win friends, not this time."
"Call off Shan Reiss," Valmy said, and didn't bother to smile this time.
"What's your problem with Reiss?" Tatian asked. "It was me who paid off the mosstaas today."
Jhirad gave is partner an irritated glance. "Reiss was, is already involved, and not just in politics. He's speaking for a man who wants to emigrate, he's one of the witnesses who'll swear that Destany hasn't done trade for the required twenty kilohours."
"That would be Reiss's business," Tatian said. "And yours. And it's all legal. I never knew you two to be so concerned with one emigration case before. So tell me what's really going on."
Valmy laughed softly. "Your point."
"Thanks," Tatian said, and waited.
"What's going on is, the local authorities have asked that we intervene," Jhirad said. "The request comes from the highest level."
Tatian stared at im for a long moment, unable to believe what he'd heard. Temelathe Stane was notorious for keeping the Concord authorities at arms' length, for insisting on the absolute independence of the indigenous institutions. For him to ask for help--to request that the IDCA intervene in an emigration case--was almost unimaginable.
"Our bosses," Valmy said, "would like to establish the precedent."
"I bet they would," Tatian said.
"What they--what we want," Jhirad said, "is for Reiss to withdraw his statement."
Tatian's eyebrows rose in spite of himself. That was the last thing he had expected from these two; Valmy and Jhirad had always treated trade cases fairly, within the Concord's laws, and they didn't usually back down if they thought their superiors were making a mistake. On the other hand, Temelathe had never asked for help before. "Why?"
"Shan Reiss has more friends among the Modernists, and in the Black Watch, Stiller and Black Casnot, than anyone needs right now," Jhirad said. "And the case is sensitive. Destany Casnot is being sponsored by Timban 'Aukai, who's heavily into trade."
Tatian nodded. "I've heard of her."
"Who hasn't?" Valmy murmured.
"Tendlathe is really opposed to trade," Jhirad went on, "which would be more useful if he wasn't also opposed to us--off-worlders in general, I mean, not just the IDCA."
"That's nothing new," Tatian said.
"No. The problem is, they--Destany and 'Aukai--are going to be represented by local advocates, and they've picked a group that's downright notorious for defending people in trade. The word on the street is that one of the three--"
"Haliday Stiller, if you know that name," Valmy interjected.
"I do." The herm who tried to challenge gender law, Tatian thought, and lost. Warreven's partner.
"--is just looking for a case that will let 3im challenge the whole gender system." Jhirad smiled again, the expression wry. "You may begin to see our problem."
Tatian nodded again. Under other circumstances, the IDCA would be glad to see the legality of the Haran sex trade questioned in the local courts, but not when it meant questioning the off-world presence as well. Tendlathe could get entirely too much power out of this case; better to get concessions from Temelathe instead, do him a favor, and wait for a more propitious moment to attack trade.
"On top of all that, or as a result of it, Temelathe has been screwing around with the Stiller election lists," Jhirad said, and Tatian frowned at the apparent inconsequence. "Bear with me, Tatian, it all fits."
"Go ahead," Tatian said, and leaned back in his chair. He heard himself doubtful and knew the others did, too.
"He's taking a hell of a chance," Valmy said, almost to herself. "There are a lot of people pissed off about it."
Jhirad nodded. "Basically, he's arranged for Stiller to nominate two unsuitable candidates for seraaliste. One is a man named Daithef, who's considered pretty much a joke, and the other is Warreven, who is one of the advocates involved in this case. We think he's trying to get Warreven out of the courts and is either trying to bribe 3im--seraaliste is a powerful position, the person who holds it is one of the more important Important Men--or at least get 3im out of the way, keep 3im away from trade cases for the next calendar year. It's also possible he's trying to bring 3im back into his party. You know--no, you probably don't know, it was before your time--Temelathe wanted 3im to marry Tendlathe, and I think he, Temelathe, would still like to have Warreven on his side."
"Warreven said no to that," Valmy said, "and rumor says 3e's saying no to the nomination, too."
Tatian blinked, trying to imagine the person he'd seen--long hair and pointed chin, strong bones beneath skin like silk, loose vest and trousers and the clashing metal bracelets, casually kind and as casually sexual, like and not like any indigene he'd met before--married to Tendlathe Stane. The idea, the casual switch of legal gender, was too alien, and he shied away from it. It was just as strange to think of Warreven as Stiller seraaliste: it was odd to think that he might be negotiating with 3im next year.
"You know 3im?" Valmy asked.
The words were casual, but the look that accompanied them was not. Tatian smiled ruefully. "I literally ran into 3im yesterday at the Courthouse. We talked--3e gave me the name of a technician who might be able to work on my implants."
"You've been--running into--a lot of awkward people lately," Valmy said. "All of them in trade."
Tatian sighed. "So tell me about the fem."
"%er name's Astfer Stiller," Jhirad began, and Valmy made an irritated noise.
"e'll give you clan and kin before e answers your questions. You've been on Hara too long, Stevi."
"%e's a paralegal--an advocate of sorts, but trained to handle Concord law, too," Jhirad went on, as though e'd never been interrupted, "%e's a known member of the New Agenda movement, and %e's been doing work for Haliday on trade cases."
"Which one is New Agenda?" Tatian asked.
"They propose that the Centennial Meeting be asked if Hara should rejoin the Concord as a full member world," Valmy said. "And they really don't like Tendlathe. It was New Agenda members who stood up in the Watch Council and said he shouldn't be confirmed as Temelathe's heir."
Tatian whistled softly. That had taken courage, and it hadn't done any good: Tendlathe's status had been officially acknowledged the year he himself came to Hara.
"You begin to see how it all fits," Jhirad said. "This may be about trade, about one emigration case, but there's a whole lot of other things connected to it. And because of that, we--the IDCA, and through us, Customs and maybe even ColCom--have a chance to get some real influence on the government here. I'm asking you to ask Reiss to withdraw his statement."
Damn. Tatian shook his head slowly, knowing only too well how Reiss would respond to that request. I'm going to murder the little bastard for getting me, the company, mixe
d up in this... "And what happens to what's-his-name, the guy who wants to emigrate, if Reiss agrees? It's going to matter to him."
Jhirad looked away. Valmy said, "I don't know. I can't promise anything, Tatian. But if it comes up now, with Reiss's name on it, our bosses are going to push for a trade investigation of NAPD."
"And that's blackmail," Tatian said.
"I suppose," Valmy answered. "But that's how it's been put to me."
"This is not a good time to play politics," Jhirad said, and pushed imself slowly to is feet. "Unless, of course, you're us. Talk to Reiss, Tatian. The worst of the pressure should be off by Midsummer. That's not long."
"I'll talk to him," Tatian said. "But I don't make any promises."
"Fair enough," Jhirad said equably, and slid open the door. Valmy followed him out, letting the door slide closed again behind her.
Tatian sat for a long moment, staring at the pale cream fiber that covered the walls. What Jhirad and Valmy were asking was technically illegal; more than that, it would be hard to get Reiss to go along with it, even if he were given a direct order to withdraw his statement. He, Tatian, would have to invoke Masani's rules against trade, the threat of firing, and he hated to do that when he knew perfectly well that Reiss wasn't profiting from his games. On the other hand, he understood the temptation IDCA was facing. To have the chance to intervene in Hara's government, not just legally but actually at the Most Important Man's personal request, was too good a chance to pass up. He sighed, ran his hand, flat-palmed, across the shadowscreen to wake the desktop. The IDCA agents were right when they said this was politically a difficult time, and more than that, they were also right when they hinted that NAPD was being dragged into trade. And that, the Old Dame had made very clear, was not to happen. He would do what the IDCA agents wanted, ask--no, tell--Reiss to take back his statement, but he would do it because he could not risk NAPD's becoming involved in trade.
Wry-abed: (Hara) the politest colloquial term for men who prefer to have sex with men and women who prefer to have sex with women.
Warreven
The cellar room was cool, pleasantly dim, the pinlights arranged across the ceiling in patterns to mimic the stars. It wasn't much of an illusion--the heavy beams that supported the dance floor broke the pattern, distorted it into odd geometry--but the steady pounding of drums and feet made the lights tremble like stars seen through atmosphere. Warreven grinned at the thought and earned a glare from Haliday, sitting across from him in the other corner of the private cubby.
"Relax, Hal," Malemayn said, and reached for the jug of nightwake that stood in the center of the table. He refilled the five cups, leaving the sixth still empty, and looked at Warreven.
Before he could say anything, however, the off-world woman at his left said, "Damn Shan Reiss anyway. There isn't time for this."
The man beside her growled agreement, and then looked embarrassed, picked up his cup and drank to hide his uncertainty. Warreven watched him, still not certain what to make of him. Destany Casnot seemed very ordinary to be the cause of all this trouble, a big, light-skinned herm, who had once been flashily handsome but had settled into the thick-bodied Casnot middle age. It was hard to imagine that he had done trade; harder still to imagine what 'Aukai saw in him that made her want to bring him with her into her exile. Warreven glanced at his hands, folded on the tabletop, in the overlapping circles of light, seeing dirt under the broken fingernails. Reiss had said that Destany had a mairaiche, a truck garden, of his own in the scrub outside the city, between the Bounder Road and the hills; why anyone would give that up, the rare security of cultivation, was more than Warreven could understand. And to give it up for Timban 'Aukai--
"We know," Haliday said, and managed to sound almost convincingly soothing. "He'll be here." Ȝe looked at Warreven then, too, and he sighed.
"I talked to him this afternoon. He said he'd come." After I invoked his clan, our shared Watch, and a few summers screwing around with him in Irenfot, he added silently, but he did say he'd meet with us. Haliday was looking at him as though 3e'd read his thoughts, and Warreven looked hastily at the time display over the street-side door. "It's only just time."
Haliday made a face, and the woman said again, "I don't have time for this."
Warreven glanced at her. The years had not been particularly kind to Timban 'Aukai, and she had not been beautiful to start with, a rangy, raw-boned woman who wore exaggeratedly tight-waisted clothes to keep from being mistaken for a mem. She was still wearing the clothes, a wide belt cinched painfully tight over a flowing shirt that seemed meant to add bulk at the hips, but her once-fine skin had been coarsened by the Haran sun, and there was a scar along her jaw where a sun-tumor had been removed. 'Aukai looked back at him, her pale eyes--an odd, off-world color, gray like winter clouds--flicking up and down in automatic assessment. It was an expression Warreven remembered all too well--he was probably meant to remember, he told himself, and met her stare without flinching.
The music, drums and whistle, was suddenly louder, and Warreven twisted in his chair to see Reiss coming down the stairs from the dance house overhead. One of the servers intercepted him, saying something in a voice too low to be heard over the drumming, but Reiss shook his head, gesturing to the table. Malemayn lifted a hand, and the off-worlder came to join them, dropping into the remaining chair.
"Sorry I'm late," he said cheerfully. "Hope you haven't been waiting long." He poured himself a glass of nightwake without waiting for an invitation and smiled guilelessly around the table, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. Haliday's frown deepened, and Malemayn laid a hand on 3er elbow, signaling silence.
Destany said, "You know the situation, Reiss. How can you back out now?" On me, your clan-cousin--your adopted clan, that took you in: he didn't have to say any of that, and even in the dim light, Warreven could see the color rising in Reiss's cheeks.
"I don't have a choice," Reiss said, still in that too-bright tone that masked embarrassment, and Warreven leaned forward before anyone else could speak.
"'Aukai's right, we don't have time for this. Tell them what you told me, Reiss."
Reiss glanced at him, the blue eyes, foreign eyes, like 'Aukai's conspicuous even in the relatively low light. When he spoke, the false brightness had utterly vanished. "I don't have a choice, not if I want to keep my job. IDCA came down hard on my boss, and he told me flat out, withdraw the statement, or I don't work for him anymore. I'm sorry, Destany--" For the first time, he looked at him directly, Casnot to Casnot. "--but I'm not risking my residency."
"You were born here," Destany said.
"I was born in Irenfot," Reiss said. "You know that. No offense, Stany, but I don't want to go back there. If I lose my job, that's the only place I've got legitimate rights."
"They can't hold you to that," Haliday began, and Reiss laughed.
"Can't they? I'll have pissed off IDCA, and they have final say here."
"Or if they do," Haliday said, with dignity, as though 3e hadn't been interrupted, "you can fight it."
Reiss shook his head again. "They're making this into a question of trade. I can't fight that--I've played around too much, they make an issue of it, they can get me for that. I'm sorry."
"Why in all hells are they so concerned about trade now?" Malemayn said, then made a face and answered his own question. "Because it's us, and everybody knows we're looking for a case to challenge the trade system."
"This wasn't it," Haliday muttered. Ȝe sighed, and looked at 'Aukai. "Maybe you'd--Destany'd--be better off with another set of advocates."
"Do you think it would help?" 'Aukai asked, and Malemayn shook his head.
"Probably not, unless you can get another off-worlder to swear for you. Or if Reiss changes his mind."
"Reiss is kin," Destany said flatly. "I don't know off-worlders anymore."
"All I ever wanted was for Stany to be with me," 'Aukai said quietly. "Either for me to stay, or him to come with me. You wouldn't think it'd
be that complicated."
Well, yes, I would, Warreven thought. You've run trade out of your shop for close to a local decade, you can't expect IDCA to do you any favors now. He said nothing, however, leaning back in his chair as Malemayn turned to Reiss.
"Do you think it would make a difference to your boss, to IDCA, if we weren't involved?"
Reiss shrugged. "I have no idea. Look, I don't know what's really going on, any more than you do."
"If it did, would you make your statement again?" Malemayn asked.
"Absolutely," Reiss said, and glanced at Destany. "I don't want to back out on you, on my obligations. I know what I owe Casnot, it's just--I don't have any choice."
"We could ask Langbarn to take over," Malemayn said, and Haliday snorted.
"He's--e's still a mem, no matter what e calls himself. The courts won't like it."
Warreven looked at 'Aukai, shutting out the conversation. It didn't really matter, not unless they could find some way to persuade Reiss's boss--Mhyre Tatian, he reminded himself, with an odd thrill that he wouldn't admit was pleasure--to let Reiss make his statement. Beyond 'Aukai, a frieze of the spirits danced along the wall, Captain and Madansa and Agede the Doorkeeper with his eyepatch and bottle of sweetrum; the painted Captain, broad-shouldered, broad-bearded, reminded him of the feel of Tatian's body against his own as they stood for an instant in unintended embrace. He dismissed that thought before it was fully formed: that was not the way to persuade a man who opposed trade so vehemently.
"What's NAPD's problem with trade?" he said aloud, and Malemayn glared at him.
"What in all hells does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't know, exactly. Bear with me, would you?"
Haliday grinned, showing sharp, feral teeth. "Raven's the only one with an idea so far, Mal."
Shadow Man (Paragons of Queer Speculative Fiction) Page 13
