Ambassador 9: Red Crystal Desert

Chapter 1

1

THE HOUSE LAY on top of a rocky outcrop in the fork of the valley.

It had sprawling rooms and a veranda that wrapped around the entire ground floor. The scent of fresh paint still lingered in the rooms but, from what I understood, its design and its location were almost older than humanity.

The windows looked out over both arms of the valley, broad canyons with sheer cliffs of rock, a boulder-strewn floor, and a faint haze of purple from the dust of the surrounding desert. The right arm of the canyon contained several glistening pools of water, the left a modest creek.

The latter amazed me most. This was Asto.

The river into Athyl, dry for so long it had lost its name, was flowing again. After fifty thousand years of desert, enough water fell in the mountains to produce a small permanent stream.

“What do you think?” a voice said behind me.

Asha Domiri, second in charge of Asto’s society, commander of the armed forces and my father-in-law, came to stand next to me.

He had brought me here on a short flight from his residence in the huge army base on the plateau that was just visible through the haze.

I took in the room with its smooth polished mosaic floor with patterns of light grey leaves in white marble-like stone. I looked at the sheer curtains ruffled by the breeze, and the exquisitely carved windowsills displaying the likeness of creatures that had been dead for thousands of years.

There was no more wood on Asto, but the artificial material looked so much like it that the difference was indistinguishable.

“It’s very a nice house,” I said. “I like the view.”

“I thought this would be a good place as a base for you and your association while you’re staying here.”

“Here?”

For the past few days, since arriving on Asto, we had been staying at his household. He did not live in the Inner Circle as his status allowed him, although he had an apartment there. He had to live with the military that he led.

“Yes, it’s big enough for your entire party. The little one can run and scream as much as he likes, your security team doesn’t have to share resources, and I have organised for people to come today who can assist my daughter with the care of the child when it arrives; and, until it does, she can sit on the veranda and enjoy this beautiful view.”

The view was indeed beautiful, but I was puzzled by this move.

He continued, “I know there is not enough furniture in here, but we’ll bring some in.”

Yes, only one room in the house—an upstairs bedroom—contained furniture: a bed without bedding, two chairs and a table. There were also a few pots and pans in the kitchen, but not enough for all of us.

And also, this was clearly not my own decision.

In Coldi society, one kept one’s rivals and enemies close. Did that mean he trusted me, or did that mean he didn’t want me to be anywhere near his association at all?

“Not to dispute your generosity, but I have a lot of business in the city. Wouldn’t it be better if I stayed there? I can find some accommodation that won’t upset your household.”

He turned to me, giving me that intense look of his. “My household are not upset.”

Was he miffed that I suggested I should look for my own place?

“Then is there a problem because your home is on a military base?” Because those stiff-faced people definitely didn’t like visitors.

“My military officers are not upset. They will do as they are told.”

Then why? “I’m not sure I understand. Does this house belong to you?”

“It doesn’t, but I’ve secured permission to use it.”

Well, that was as clear as mud. And one lesson I’d learned in Coldi society was that you always worried about who owned the place where you were staying, because this person also owned the listening bugs.

He must have sensed my apprehension, because he continued, “There are a lot of complications. Your coming to Asto may be controversial for some members of your party. I don’t want to cause any major trouble for them and for you, especially since your stay here will be temporary, and I don’t want to upset established hierarchies.”

There we had it. He wanted us out of his household and army base because he feared that my presence would challenge the established power structure, which, in Coldi, was determined through hormones and the sheya instinct that could—and often did—react badly to a sudden influence from a person outside the power structure. In other words, a person like me.

But was it really about “members of my association” more than about me? I was yet without status in Coldi society, and part of the reason for my visit was to establish the place I would occupy in the many loyalty networks.

Although I could think of some of those people whose very presence would stir up conflict in the future, it was worth finding out his thoughts about these situations.

“I’m guessing that the Azimi clan will be interested in the little boy,” I said. Ayshada was only two, but his very existence was the cause of more controversy than a two-year-old should have to deal with.

Asha nodded. “That whole range of your association is full of trouble. Because Nicha grew up with his mother, she thinks she can enforce her politics on him. She is, of course, in bed with the Azimi clan, and probably planted this little bundle of joy on you.”

“Ayshada is still too young to cause trouble.”

“He’s a liability for you, a weakness in your association.” His face was hard.

If I hadn’t seen him, in an unguarded moment in the kitchen, sneak Ayshada a treat behind his father’s back, I would have thought he hated children. “So, the Azimi clan will demand to see him or take care of him for a specific time?”

Asha lifted his chin, the Coldi way of saying no. “They will not come to you. They will come to my son, and they will try to pressure him into agreeing to have the boy spend some time with them when he’s older.”

“How bad would that be?”

“It’s customary that children who are living with one parent spend at least some time with the other parent. That’s not bad per se. We want to make sure that happens after he has gained an understanding of what the Azimi clan may be trying to do to him and his father.”

“But Ayshada is still too young.”

Asha agreed. “He is.”

“And what is the Azimi clan’s game at the moment? Anything in particular I need to worry about?”

“The usual stuff. Scheming to take power through gaining influence in the colonies, revenge politics based on slights that were supposedly done to people many years ago. I can give you a list. They have a variety of writs awaiting response, but even if no one responds, the Azimi clan doesn’t have the people to enforce their threats.”

The usual stuff, in that case. The Azimi clan found issue with a lot of things and issued a lot of writs. They were notorious on not following through with the threats outlined in those writs. I could handle it.

But as usual when talking to Asha, the most concerning issues hid behind layers and layers of rhetoric. Coldi were direct with their opinions, but guarded their serious problems like a rabid dog.

Yeah, I didn’t like surprises, but the Azimi issue seemed under control. For now.

Next problem area. “Is the problem then about the position of Reida?” I asked.

Asha snorted. “There is that. He’s Ezmi. Outer Circle. Many people are surprised that you have him on your team. But ultimately, it’s your choice.”

I never had much choice about Reida in particular. Nicha had picked him. But I liked Reida. He was a good kid—a bit unconventional, but useful, and I would defend him. “He’s very good.” At breaking into things, both physical buildings and databases. “I noticed that some of the staff at the base gave him hostile looks.”

“Give me the names of those people, and they will be reprimanded.”

“That’s not really necessary.”

“Believe me, it’s necessary.”

No, I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to be a tattletale getting people up in arms against me because I’d felt they could have been more welcoming to one of my junior workers. I hadn’t come here to make enemies. Neither had I come here to thrust Reida in an unwelcome spotlight. He hated being singled out.

So I changed the subject away from Reida. “The Ezmi clan are not going to create any trouble while we’re here?”

“Most of his family, if he has any left, would have no ties that link back to any of ours, no matter how far back you stretch it. Since he’s contained within the structure of your association, that wouldn’t create too much trouble, so just tell the little rascal to keep his head down, and he should be safe.”

“He’s been very well-behaved lately. He completed the Academy and got his full guard license. He is doing a lot of training in spyware and electronics.” To be honest, I was quite proud of the young man, who had spent the first few months in my house trying to sneak into the bedroom windows of the girls in town.

“It’s actually the other one in that zhayma pair I’m worried about.”

“Deyu?” To me, Deyu was akin to a living goddess. She was always ready to do her duty, she did it better than anyone without complaining, she was the strongest in our team, the best fighter, the most impressive looking young woman I had ever seen. She was gentle, polite, listened well, loved animals and took all opportunities that came her way with both hands. Just to think that she used to drive trains in the city brought tears to my eyes. What an utter waste of talent.

“That’s the one. Omi.”

That was Deyu’s clan. A clan mostly of workers and labourers. There were a lot of them. They were, in fact, the largest clan on Asto.

Asha continued, “Because you have taken her under your protection, her status has increased immeasurably. When she left Asto, she and her family had merely scraped into Eighth Circle. I understand her father still holds a furniture business.”

“I understand he is fairly well known there.”

“Yes. And politically active.”

“What do you mean?” A cold feeling crept over me.

“He belongs to an ambitious section of the Omi clan. I know the Omi clan don’t get mentioned very often in discussions about politics, and that is because they are usually fairly quiet. But the Omi clan is massive, and because they are so big, their internal structure doesn’t resemble that of our clans. They are divided into branches. Their leader normally comes from one of two different branches of the clan.”

I could see where this was going. “I’m guessing Deyu’s family branch is not one of them.”

He gave a brief nod. “Sometimes I wonder why I bother explaining Coldi society to you. You seem to have a better understanding of it than many people on Asto.”

“That’s because failing to understand it will get me killed.”

He chuckled, but we both knew how true it was. “Anyway, now that you’re bringing her here, it has strengthened rumbles in the Omi clan. Some people suggest that someone should mount a challenge to her, because her position was never properly assigned.”

“That’s because Nicha rescued her from being a train driver.”

“Things are different now.”

“You mean her position has become influential and the clan want a say in who fills it?”

“Eventually, yes. I don’t know that anyone ever warned you about collecting that many people from different clans in your association. The clans will all want a say. You’re not yet on the radar of the other clans, but the Omi clan has keen eyes to increase their influence.”

“Are you really suggesting that someone is going to mount a challenge to Deyu’s position in my association, because Deyu is not from the approved branch of the clan?”

He met my eyes squarely. His irises were dark, with few golden spots. “That’s one option. Because we are dealing with a clan that is not normally very much in the spotlight, there is no rulebook for what they will do. What is worse, they don’t even have the script themselves.”

I’d learned recently that there was an actual rulebook, mostly electronic and constantly amended, that described clan rules. Each clan had their own rules, especially when related to how they dealt with other clans. In combination with the sheya instinct, it was complicated enough to make my brain hurt.

“What are likely possibilities for what challengers will do?”

“If they belonged to any of our clans, they would simply show up here and demand a fight between Deyu and a challenger.” Our clans meaning Palayi, Domiri, Vonayi, Lingui and even Azimi. “But because we know so little about them, we can’t expect that’s what they will do. One thing I do know: in the upper clans, fights to establish position are always fought with the opponents’ bare hands. You don’t use weapons.”

“And I am guessing the Omi clan do?”

“They fight dirty.” Not a direct answer. Was that meant to signify anything? Was he afraid? Was he ready to start a conflict? “We can expect anything. Attacks under the cover of darkness, attacks that involve more than one assailant, attacks that use a member of another clan as cover.”

Something didn’t make sense to me. “For what aim would they do this? Just because they’re envious of Deyu’s success? If we had committed a perceived slight, wouldn’t they send a writ first to outline what our transgression is?”

He spread his hands. “I can’t claim to understand the workings of the Omi clan. I do know that they’re not as placid as they seem. I know that sections will be very unhappy.”

“By us visiting here?”

“That, and other issues at play within the clan.”

“Are those issues ones that Deyu is involved with?”

“That is hard to know.”

Whatever he wanted to say, I doubted this was about Deyu.

I should by now be used to his way of informing me, and yet, after all these years, I still got angry when he spoke in vagaries like this. And yet I followed him, just as, all those years ago, I’d gone to Africa because he’d indicated that something there was important for me to find, not bothering to tell me he’d known that an Indrahui warlord had ensconced himself there.

I’d travelled deep into space because he got himself into trouble, even if he would never directly ask for help.

So here we were again. The same game. Except this time Thayu was heavily pregnant. I wasn’t sure I wanted to play games right now.

“So, if Deyu is under threat from her own clan, what measures do you suggest we take?”

“I suggest you limit her exposure to the general population. I suggest you take the Vonayi and Palayi guards when you leave the safety of the house. This is also why I suggest you stay here. When you’re here, you can see anyone coming from a long distance.”

That was certainly true. And I had a whole new guard association trailing us so it wasn’t as if we lacked the people to set up a safe perimeter. Sheydu Palayi had brought her whole association of six of her highly trained security guards. They were there purely to protect us so the members of my association could go back to their assigned roles.

Although—how would we be unsafe in his house inside the army base? How would challenging members of the Omi clan get into the base? They wouldn’t, because they weren’t members of the armed forces.

Something very strange going on here.

Asha continued, “Don’t worry about feeling lonely. Most of us will be in and out of here all the time, because there are a lot of things we need to do and sort out.”

That was also true. And had he really tried to make a joke?

Make no mistake: he wanted us here for some reason. At the same time, the practicalities were attractive. The whole house to ourselves, and one in as magnificent a position as this, did sound liberating.

There were plenty of spacious rooms for everyone, large open living areas, stone floors Ayshada couldn’t damage or stain, no matter which wheeled vehicle he rode or which part of his dinner he upset. There was a security room near the door for Sheydu and her people, a large quiet private room for myself and Thayu with doors that opened onto the veranda, and that room even had its own washroom with hand-painted tiles. It held a comfortable couch, a basin with cool water that was refilled from an underground tank, and plenty of space for the items that would be necessary when Thayu gave birth.

This gorgeous house was much nicer than the functional but cramped and dark military bunker that served as Asha’s household, where the desert dust blew in through the windows that looked out over dusty courtyards.

A military household, with military people and military efficiency. They weren’t used to two-year-old toddlers, or a baby who had just learned to run but hadn’t quite mastered the art of walking or listening. That was Ileyu, Veyada’s daughter.

And we hadn’t even spoken about the issue of Mereeni, Veyada’s partner and the girl’s mother, and the fact that she was a Hedron Coldi and they were even less welcome than all of the other people we had spoken about. And Veyada, whose father was Vonayi, and Vonayi and Domiri clan—which included most military people—did not have much time for each other.

My head hurt. I’d just wanted to come here for the ceremony. Thayu wanted to be home for the birth of our child. I had stacks of work waiting for me at home in Barresh, especially with the group we now called the Tamer Collective, who had been unofficially cleared to start a second Exchange network. Because they would do it anyway even if we didn’t approve, and it was better to maintain a semblance of control and communication than to have conflict, but there were oh so many battles to be fought on that front.

It was not as if I were looking for additional things to worry about.

“I think we will accept and move to the house.” I was pretty sure I spoke for most of my association.

He gave a brief nod.

“You’ll be provided with plenty of help to move in and make other preparations. That also pertains to the ceremony. Now that I’ve explained that several people will be trying to goad you into a confrontation, it will start at your confirmation ceremony. People will try to get into your favours, get you to make promises or simply spy on you. I can’t shield you from all of it; I don’t think you are inexperienced enough that you will fall for many of these games, because they will be so obvious. But be on your guard. Everybody who is new and introduces themselves to you or your association is likely to want something.”

“I understand. I will do my best.”

And then he clapped my shoulder.

It was testimony to my transformation that I didn’t buckle at the knees.