Black Point Clan (Wine of the Gods Book 36)

by Pam Uphoff

  His father got the same treatment. The Ax was a tall thin man. Good looking despite a rather long hooked nose. Black hair and brilliant blue eyes. Ajha had a subdued version of the nose, but otherwise resembled his mother, in his green eyes and mid-brown hair. Checking a mirror, he saw that whatever the makeup lady had put on his hair had darkened it a bit, and it was brushed to display his tall wide forehead just as his father's was displayed. Maybe it is a bit more than the nose. And I suppose the age doesn't hurt, either. Seventy to his hundred and fifty beats eighteen to ninety-eight, as far as family resemblance is concerned.

  At ten-thirty, the guests started trickling in, including a few with vidcams on their shoulders. Ajha kept track of them as if they were Natives looking to add him to tonight's menu. He talked to a wide selection of men and women, generally echoing his father's policies, differing mainly on cross dimensional matters, and especially as to retaliation against Comet Fall. As to his father's position on redefining the One, he replied strictly according to his father's instructions.

  "What about your own opinion?" One pushy man was fishing for a good scandal. "Why don't we just re-engineer those genes ourselves, eh?"

  "We count ancient genetic engineering, even when it only affects esthetics, for reasons of tradition. And also because we don't understand how each change affects the whole. New genetic engineering? I find the idea a bit frightening, and I think that only the repair of damage justifies its use today. We really don't know what we're doing."

  Not what the man had wanted at all. "How about redefining the One? How can anyone stand for that?"

  Ajha raised an eyebrow. "It's been redefined before, for political purposes. It's only words. We are what we are, each of us, individually. We've been thumped, no doubt there, but it was a rather gentle thump. We can change a few labels, or just ignore it."

  "But, that means there won't be as many Withiones or Neartuones!"

  "Hardly, if you're talking about magical ability, not just the label. Those three genes weren't power functions. Oh, by the old standards fewer people will be labeled Withione or Neartuone. To change the labels, the definitions . . . I can't think of a single scheme that doesn't have problems. I wish the conclave the blessings of the One in deciding what to use."

  "If you had to pick a favorite, what would you use as a standard?"

  "Socially, I'd have everyone stick to how they tested as a child, or upgrade if the new standards raised them up. Personally? I always thought the original system of just counting the number of insertion packets was clean and simple. Zero to twelve. Practically, for education and employment? There's an obvious advantage to having two copies each of seventeen specific gene complexes. Once you've got those, I'd tend to simply go with a straight percent of the remaining genes, however you want to count them. Take the current Oner population, split it into top ten percent, next twenty, next thirty and the last forty percent. Label them Withione, Neartuone, Clostuone, and Servaone. Or better yet, drop the designations altogether as job requirements and just go with a test of skills."

  "Drop . . . but then we'd be competing with Servaones for jobs. Even Multitude!"

  "If they can do the job, why shouldn't they be allowed to compete with you for it?" Ajha countered.

  "What does your father think of your opinions?"

  "That they aren't worth listening to."

  The boggled newsie backed away politely, murmuring into his vocal pickup, to add commentary of his own.

  Ajha kept track and after he'd been cornered by all five newsies, he headed home.

  ". . . and Arab style clothes are in. I need some shirts. In light blue, red, and yellow. No dark colors, and no bright ones either." Opjw was scowling at his mother, arms folded. He looked different with the short hair. More One and less Dewulfe, certainly. But still a skinny undersized ten.

  "Excellent haircut, Jay." Ajha nodded his approval to the boy, who blinked at the sudden nickname. He was seriously out numbered by the seven adult women looming around him. "Good job Xiat. How was your ride?"

  "A bit muddy, which is just as well. One doesn't want to get too nostalgic. C'mon, Poppy, let's take Pajamas, Jay, shopping. No, not the whole herd of us females. Take pity on the kid."

  Ajha eyed the kid. "Perhaps I should come, show Jay how a man shops."

  "Oh, this I have to see." Phoebe grinned.

  Some of the ladies decided to stay home, but it was still a rather large group that took the tram down to the shops.

  Ajha swept a look around the first shop, caught the kid's eye. They exchanged infinitesimal head shakes, turned and walked out.

  "But, but, you didn't look at anything!"

  The next shop had some shirts that might work, but the whites and off whites . . .

  The third shop was perfect. Jay tried a shirt on. They checked it in the mirror, agreed on cut and size. Plucked six other shirts in acceptable colors off the racks and bought them without trying them on.

  "Ta da! Half an hour. Done." Ajha looked around. "Hey. A sandwich shop? That's new. C'mon. My treat."

  The restaurant had a good view over the ocean, and they were enough off the lunch hour to get seats.

  Xiat was looking amused. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you? Showing off."

  "Yep. I was blessed with an Uncle that showed me the ropes. Now I'm returning the Karmic debt. And showing off my account balance to all you school chums is fun too. Who'd have thought?"

  "No kidding." Cookie put in dryly.

  Snickers all around.

  "Did Whipper and Mushy ever regain consciousness?"

  Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Yes. The less said, the better. Uncle Ajki dosed them up with something, the Servaones cleaned up the disaster in your bathroom, they went back to bed. Now tell us about your morning meeting with your father."

  "A small reception for a dozen people and five news bureaus. I expect that with a bit of cutting I can be made to sound like a wild-eyed radical out to destroy the One, and with my poor father under my thumb. I may never be allowed to set foot on Black Point again."

  "Uh, oh. Sounds like trouble. Aunt Kiaj said there'd be a disaster this week, and maybe you'd get it over with early on." Poppy smirked.

  "Such confidence in me. I am crushed."

  "Well, you haven't exactly impressed anyone, outside of Uncle Ajki."

  Jay leaned forward. "Tell us about your first cross-dimensional assignment."

  Ajha grinned. "After a couple of colony bureaucratic-type internships, my first real field assignment was as the junior member of a four man info team. Their fourth had resigned suddenly; I literally met the others on the train to Gate City. So off I went, barely briefed, to Target World Forty-two. Since renamed Comet Fall."

  "You've been to Comet Fall?" Jay's eyes glowed.

  "Spent five years there. Almost six. Karista, the capital city of the Kingdom of the West is located about where San Francisco is on Band One Worlds, so it felt almost like home. Colder winters, what with the ice age and all."

  "Did they really start the war by killing an entire Action Team?"

  "In as much as the Action Team was tasked with killing an entire village of a couple hundred people, I really don't think we can say that they started the war."

  "We did not!" Poppy and Phoebe synced that, with equal levels of indignant denial.

  Ajha nodded. "Did too. Ask Uncle Ajki. Well, forty years ago, so I suppose it's not public yet. I dare say it'll be quite a shock in ten years, when it is declassified. It was an utterly disgraceful affair. Anyone who digs for information above and beyond the official news releases can find out that we lost eighteen Teamers on Target Forty-two."

  "Eighteen! That's . . . "

  "Two full teams, their leader and a scout. Two more distant observers escaped. They reported that a couple dozen teenage girls killed them all."

  Even Jay was looking offended. Poor boy. Well, just as well if Ajha was a small bit of help, not a major figure in his life. It wasn't like Ajha was going to marr
y Poppy and raise the boy.

  "If it's classified, are you supposed to even talk about it?" Phoebe frowned. "I suppose you can say anything you like, and just laugh and say the supporting documents are classified."

  "Well, we're not supposed to talk to news outlets and so forth. Prior to the elapse of twenty-five years I couldn't have even thought about it too loudly. At fifty years, half a century later, all the supporting data will be available. Which will make it all more fun to talk about. So perhaps we should change the subject. Where do you all live, these days?"

  "Caracas." Poppy brightened at the thought. She must like it there. Jay looks wistful. Poor Oner kid, he really does have to be in solid Oner territory until his power has come in and he'd been trained to control it. The Caracas Enclave must be well outside of the city. Or maybe she thought he should get to know his own clan enclave.

  The others were all living in Paris. Phoebe and Cookie had gotten their apartments as part of their first divorce settlements, and been working upward since. Ajha listened, a bit baffled, as Phoebe and Cookie discussed the prospects they were seeing here.

  "Really, I'm half tempted to go for an old man." Phoebe's eye twinkled at the other's reactions. "Take someone like Minister Udzi, who's running for Patriarch. He doesn't have any children, so he can't really be that strong. Dump him in five years, and think of the status! A minister couldn't get you pregnant."

  "You've got to watch that, though." Cookie paused for a sip of tea. "Sooner or later you'll get high enough that the man expects a child. Shaming him by putting him in the same tier as your former husbands can really hurt."

  "Well, you've fooled around with Neartuones, Cookie. You should go for a good solid Withione next time. Have a baby."

  Cookie was scowling, no doubt at the veiled reminder that as a Neartuone she was playing the Game at a lower level than the others.

  Ajha caught a faint sigh from Xiat. Since she'd been chosen for the Princess School, she could well have every single one of the Prophets' genes. So no one was stronger than she was. She would never have a baby . . . without outside assistance in the form of the Comet Fall Joy Juice. If I could import the stuff wholesale, I'd be rich. It would mess up all these genetic rankings and give the princesses a stake in the future. Not to mention what it would do for priests.

  "Personally, I'd recommend marrying someone you like and hoping for a baby." Xiat took a bite of her sandwich as if she had a grudge against it.

  Cookie rolled her eyes. "I've seen what a mess women can make of themselves, having babies, then getting divorced. That's not for me." She glanced toward Poppy.

  Poppy shrugged. "It worked out well for me. I had divorce settlements and Pa, I mean Jay. And frankly, a job that you leave behind at the end of every afternoon is really nice."

  Xiat was the only one nodding agreement, and the look she threw at the kid was downright hungry. Definitely a market for the Joy Juice, here.

  The brief world news just showed him talking with his father, while the newsie talked over it about the coming convention to choose the Patriarch. The regional news channel had neatly trimmed his speculations about the One redefinition, and mentioned that his father was in contention for the Patriarchy. The local feeds had all his interviews. To his surprise, they were also posted, in their entirety, on all their grid sites. Even the world news that got echoed to the colonies.

  Why do they think my opinion is that important?

  At least they didn't broadcast his least prudent answer . . . until an hour later.

  "So, I assume you're a member of the War Party, like your father?" Perky little thing, and yes, he had noticed her cleavage, which might explain his lapse of judgment.

  "No, I'm a Modernist. I have great respect for President Orde."

  His father was at the door in minutes of the broadcast. "Are you insane? Whatever you think, you can't just say something like that in front of a news vid!"

  "Really Jaja!" His mother chimed in from the other side. "Such utter rubbish! What sort of people have you been associating with?"

  "Very intelligent, competent ones, some without a speck of magic to them. And still good at what they do. Some jobs require magic, some are easier with magic and some don't need it. I think you'd be shocked at how large that last category is. And I do like Orde's policies."

  His father shook his head. "I should have taken more care with your upbringing. However, that remark will bring me to the notice of everyone in town."

  "You hardly need any help at that!" His mother led the man off, and Ajha retreated to watch more news. More talk about what to do to Comet Fall, and when.

  If the Commerce Ministry would simply approve the importation of the six repair potions, the matter would fade away. Which, I suspect may be why they aren't being imported. Damn politics.

  More talk about the Conclave. The Council wanted to limit their authority to a recommendation, and not allow discussion of anything but reclassification. The President was pointing out that the Constitution didn't allow limiting a conclave. Then some vid stars' news about upcoming vids. Then sports and weather. An entertainment show started, and Ajha slipped out. His bedroom was deserted. He stepped out to the patio, got out a chair and enjoyed the sunset in private. He nodded off, was awakened when his drunken cousins—all three this time—showed up. This time he had the antihol to hand, so they were technically sober when they all went to bed, two hours after midnight.

  Chapter Four

  7 Shawwal 1407 yp

  Black Point Enclave, West Coast North American Region

  Ajha was starting to worry her.

  She'd not noticed, in school, any homosexual tendencies, but then she'd been pretty naïve back then. But Ajha had taken a definite interest in Pajamas. In Jay. He even gave the kid an acceptable nickname.

  "And I know he's spent years on Comet Fall. Absorbing One knows what odd customs and ideas. I think I may have found a big black mark on the Ax's dossier." She looked around the crowded coffee shop. It was too noisy for anyone to have heard her muttering, without special equipment. She slurped the last swallow of tepid coffee and tapped in a specific request for Ajha's sexual orientation, and told the office to look for any local unsolved male preteen or early teen molestations in his vicinity.

  But is this anything to do with all the precogs? I've sat in on some of his briefs in Paris. He's competent, knows his stuff. Been across too much to be a party insider. Maybe he's just . . . here for the vote. It's silly of me to worry about Jay. But of all of my age cohort, Clostuone label notwithstanding, I think he may well be the most dangerous person here.

  In fact, I suspect Uncle Ajki is the only one here who could take him. Besides me. Maybe I'd better check just what he's been doing on the Rescue Project. The rumors that leak involve some very bloody encounters with the Helios Army . . . could he have been involved?

  "Fighting off promotion to a desk job," he said. So if he's active in the field . . . He said Info, but has he been running with the Action types? They get very twisted.

  She closed up her comp and left the shop. So. If his barrier was any indication, and she knew from school that he was extremely intelligent, and he was possibly a sexual pervert, and he was possibly a pacifist radical, she had a real honest to One challenge. She'd just have to dissect him and study what made him tick. So. First, what was he up to, here and now? What was he planning, and was it for or against his cold rejecting father?

  She took the tram back up the hill, and spotted a group of young men headed down Spinnaker. Mushy and Whipper, three others she couldn't be sure of in the twilight. They'd be heading for Aunt Zowm's House, and Ewmo's party. Blech!

  But with Ajha gone, she could search his room.

  Unfortunately the ramp down was under the eye of everyone in the Great Room.

  She ducked into the dining room instead. Empty of both people and food, formal dinner service hours away. The unobtrusive door at the back corner led to the kitchen.

  " . . . now and that
'll be one less chore tonight." The heavy woman looked around in surprise. "May I get you anything, Miss?"

  "No, I'm just being nosy. I didn't realize Aunt Kiaj kept a large staff."

  "Ha! She doesn't keep anyone at all. We're just here while she's got a houseful. Gives all of us a place to stay, and extra money, so it works all around. Wretched Conference, anyway. Just an excuse to party. Useful for the girls, though. Myself, I'd rather be back in Freeport at the restaurant."

  Xiat followed her indulgent gaze around a corner and found a quartet of young women chopping vegetables. A play pen in the corner held two crawlers. "Oh hi, didn't realize the place was packed."

  "Oh sure. I mean, look at the house. It's crawling with Withiones." The first girl grinned. "All we have to do is figure out how to get past the wives."

  The one at the other end giggled. "Or find the nerve to flirt with a Director."

  "I'm sticking with the young ones." The second woman had a long golden braid. "Do you know, Miss, which ones are Withiones?"

  "Whipper and Mushy. Bo is Neartuone."

  They all nodded. "And we all know Ajha's Clostuone. The Mistress was divorced over it."

  "Pity, he's got the best manners."

  "I went to school with them," Xiat said. "Ajha's also the smartest one. But he's either shy or homo. He doesn't make passes."

  They all giggled. "Homo! Oh, no Miss, we know to watch who's watching us. His eyes are right here where they belong." The first woman cupped her generous breasts.

  "Really? Huh. Well, if you want smart kids, keep him in mind." Xiat leaned over the pen and smiled at the chubby babies. How can something so messy and time consuming be so desirable. So forever out of reach for me.

  "What little darlings! Boys or girls?"

  "Both girls, both Clostuones. We'll get Neartuones next year, just watch."

  Their own version of the Game. The next generation will lift up the whole family. And a good thing, because the Withiones don't seem to be reproducing.

  "Good luck! Or should I say, good hunting?" Xiat ducked through the back door. She leaned against the wall for a moment, swallowing tears. She'd had the same reaction when Paj—Jay was born. A baby hunger so deep it was painful. Or perhaps the pain was knowing she couldn't have one. She cleared her throat and got back to work. It doesn't matter. I won't let it matter.