catch up with the others. I donât want Dina thinking I want private time with March. Mary forefend.
I donât know what I expected, not like I had a chance to look around last night. But the compound seems to be a series of outbuildings along a path that leads up to the main house, a structure of old-fashioned stonework. The whole enclave is surrounded by intricate wire-and-steel fencing, crackling an electrical warning as we pass by.
As we near the main house, clansmen whose names I donât know come to meet us. They live in what I take to be apartments or longhouses nearby. Keri greets them and invites them inside. The rest of us trail in her wake, and I gaze around, surprised at the elegance of her home.
Floors are marble, walls are paneled, and if itâs not real marble, real wood, then they still paid a fortune for such high-quality synth. It even rings true when I rap my knuckles on it in passing. They have Giovanni paintings and sculptures from the Sheng Dynasty, just before Taiwan was reclaimed by China, or so my spotty recollection of Old Terra history suggests. Itâs a gorgeous place, and I feel bad just walking on this rug. My shoes sink six centimeters, and who knows whatâs on them?
We proceed to a meeting hall that looks almost like a senate chamber. Keri proceeds to the podium, where a Speaker would ordinarily stand, and she does so with a dignity I wouldnât have expected. Once there, she advises her clansmen of the bad tidings with solemn poise, and in turn, they report some losses in the night. One day, she will be a woman of great strength, I think. Depressing to contemplate, when she reaches her prime, I will be quite old if I even survive that long.
âLeadership is what separates a principal clan from a weak one,â she tells her people, once the initial shuffling has ceased. âAnd they will not yet listen to my voice on the Clan Council. Alone, I cannot hope to hold the position of strength we have enjoyed. So it is with a heavy heart that I propose consolidation. In making a marital merger with clan Gunnar, we double our holdings, double our population, and double our resources. Hereafter, the clan lines will be joined and known as Gunnar-Dahlgren. I put the proposition to a vote, as it affects the way you live, as much as me.â
The rumble of voices greets her pronouncement, and I watch from my vantage near the back. I donât know how this impacts me, but I feel a peculiar tension, studying her face. Glancing at the Gunnar, I see his investment in the proceedings. Both clans have lost so much. From what I can gather, they are taking a vote. A black bead means no, a white one means yes, and they pass around a silver dish. It is a remarkably elegant system for its simplicity. Finally, a dark-haired man stands, having counted the tokens, spokesman by some tacit understanding or perhaps tradition.
âRydal.â Keri recognizes him with a nod.
âThe vote is tallied in favor of consolidation,â he says with sad gravity. âWe judge it preferable to a hostile takeover.â
Although I am not sure, I guess that would involve wholesale slaughter of the clan and seizing all assets and territories. March catches my eye and nods. I feel like Iâve just seen the world change in some fashion this morning, and I donât understand the sensation. Lachion has never influenced the larger universe so far as Iâm aware; these are mudsider politics, nothing that will make a difference.
Keri inclines her head, then fixes a pale green gaze on the Gunnar. âHave your First speak to mine; we have contracts to negotiate.â
âMy First died out on the Nejanna Plain,â he tells her flatly. âIt will take time to decide who should fill the breach.â
You can almost see the sparks crackling between them, and I decide theyâre going to be bitching at each other longer than I really want to listen. Seems like Iâm not the
I donât know what I expected, not like I had a chance to look around last night. But the compound seems to be a series of outbuildings along a path that leads up to the main house, a structure of old-fashioned stonework. The whole enclave is surrounded by intricate wire-and-steel fencing, crackling an electrical warning as we pass by.
As we near the main house, clansmen whose names I donât know come to meet us. They live in what I take to be apartments or longhouses nearby. Keri greets them and invites them inside. The rest of us trail in her wake, and I gaze around, surprised at the elegance of her home.
Floors are marble, walls are paneled, and if itâs not real marble, real wood, then they still paid a fortune for such high-quality synth. It even rings true when I rap my knuckles on it in passing. They have Giovanni paintings and sculptures from the Sheng Dynasty, just before Taiwan was reclaimed by China, or so my spotty recollection of Old Terra history suggests. Itâs a gorgeous place, and I feel bad just walking on this rug. My shoes sink six centimeters, and who knows whatâs on them?
We proceed to a meeting hall that looks almost like a senate chamber. Keri proceeds to the podium, where a Speaker would ordinarily stand, and she does so with a dignity I wouldnât have expected. Once there, she advises her clansmen of the bad tidings with solemn poise, and in turn, they report some losses in the night. One day, she will be a woman of great strength, I think. Depressing to contemplate, when she reaches her prime, I will be quite old if I even survive that long.
âLeadership is what separates a principal clan from a weak one,â she tells her people, once the initial shuffling has ceased. âAnd they will not yet listen to my voice on the Clan Council. Alone, I cannot hope to hold the position of strength we have enjoyed. So it is with a heavy heart that I propose consolidation. In making a marital merger with clan Gunnar, we double our holdings, double our population, and double our resources. Hereafter, the clan lines will be joined and known as Gunnar-Dahlgren. I put the proposition to a vote, as it affects the way you live, as much as me.â
The rumble of voices greets her pronouncement, and I watch from my vantage near the back. I donât know how this impacts me, but I feel a peculiar tension, studying her face. Glancing at the Gunnar, I see his investment in the proceedings. Both clans have lost so much. From what I can gather, they are taking a vote. A black bead means no, a white one means yes, and they pass around a silver dish. It is a remarkably elegant system for its simplicity. Finally, a dark-haired man stands, having counted the tokens, spokesman by some tacit understanding or perhaps tradition.
âRydal.â Keri recognizes him with a nod.
âThe vote is tallied in favor of consolidation,â he says with sad gravity. âWe judge it preferable to a hostile takeover.â
Although I am not sure, I guess that would involve wholesale slaughter of the clan and seizing all assets and territories. March catches my eye and nods. I feel like Iâve just seen the world change in some fashion this morning, and I donât understand the sensation. Lachion has never influenced the larger universe so far as Iâm aware; these are mudsider politics, nothing that will make a difference.
Keri inclines her head, then fixes a pale green gaze on the Gunnar. âHave your First speak to mine; we have contracts to negotiate.â
âMy First died out on the Nejanna Plain,â he tells her flatly. âIt will take time to decide who should fill the breach.â
You can almost see the sparks crackling between them, and I decide theyâre going to be bitching at each other longer than I really want to listen. Seems like Iâm not the
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