Next to Cory was Etto Samishun, who Anden had known as Sammy when they were both young men. Now people called him Etto-jen and acknowledged him as the most capable Green Bone remaining in Southtrap. Sammy and a few other protégés of the late Rohn Toro were the leaders of a loose network of several dozen Green Bones that continued to protect the neighborhood and had remained loyal to Dauk Losun as Pillar until his passing.
Another familiar face at the table was Shun Todorho. Tod was an honorably discharged Navy Angels corporal and Oortokon war veteran who’d battled drug addiction and depression upon leaving the military, losing three jobs and a marriage before Dauk Losun stepped in and gave him work in the grudge hall on the condition that he attend rehab and therapy. Tod had since become a devout Deitist, remarried, and begun wearing his own jade again and teaching younger Green Bones. A close friend of the Dauks, he managed the newest grudge hall in the southern Port Massy suburb of Orslow, which was fast becoming a major city in its own right and boasted a growing population of newer, wealthier Kekonese immigrants.
The rest of the seats at the table were occupied by men that Anden didn’t know well, although Sana had told him about some of them: Migu Sun, an old friend of Rohn Toro who spoke for the Kekonese Green Bones in Adamont Capita; Hasho Baku, a representative from Evenfield, five hours away; and of course, Remi Jon. Each of them was accompanied by two or three of their own men, standing or sitting in extra chairs against the wall. In total there were close to twenty people in the dining room, all of them having traveled here for Dauk Losun’s funeral and to find out how Green Bone affairs would be managed in the aftermath of his death.
Anden, too, was curious and apprehensive. Sana had always been her husband’s partner and advisor, in truth his Weather Man, but she was an elderly woman now. Anden couldn’t imagine the young men around the table accepting her authority. Cory was Dauk’s son, but he was not like his father. Espenian-born and easygoing, his greatest use to the community was as a lawyer and someone who was outwardly legitimate and part of mainstream society in nearly all ways. The other men around the table who wore jade were acknowledged leaders in their own districts, but none of them had the national standing of Dauk Losun. This was not their failing; the Kekonese Green Bone population in Espenia was not the small, concentrated community in Southtrap that it had been when Dauk arrived in the country sixty years ago.
Everyone in the room was also well aware that the No Peak clan was sure to have a say. Kaul Hilo was not wearing the dark suit and tie and somber expression from yesterday. He sat slouched in his chair, one arm leaning on the table, taking up space in his usual casual way. Jade gleamed across the gap of his open collar—more jade than anyone else in the room, perhaps more than the entire rest of the room put together. He was not running the meeting, nor seated in any special place along the table, but he was also not hiding that he was the wealthiest and most powerful man in attendance. Anden sat on the Pillar’s right-hand side.
Sana began by thanking everyone for their condolences over the past week. “I know my husband is in the afterlife looking down gladly at all the friends he has.” Cory put a hand on his mother’s arm in comfort and her wavering voice steadied. “I’m grateful to those of you who’ve traveled here from Evenfield and Adamont Capita and Resville, and especially from Kekon.” She turned toward Hilo and Anden. “Our whole community is honored that the Pillar of the No Peak clan himself would come from so far away to grieve with us, along with our dear friend Anden.”
Hilo said, “I would never fail to pay my final respects to a friend and fellow Pillar.”
Sana dabbed her eyes and nodded in mute gratitude before gathering herself and continuing. “Our Kekonese community and our Green Bone traditions were the most important things to Losun. All his life, he did his best to protect them. Now that he’s gone, we have some decisions to make about the future.”
Sana looked to her son, who sat forward as all eyes shifted to him. “No one can fill my father’s shoes as Pillar,” Cory said matter-of-factly, without any shame or criticism. “But my mother and I, along with Sammy and Tod, have been talking to as many Green Bones as we can in the Port Massy area. We want to bring all of you into the decision about what direction our community should take in the future.”
Sana said, “Losun and I often talked about our hopes that we Kekonese could achieve the same things as anyone else who was born in this country, that our children and grandchildren could become business leaders or movie stars or assemblymen. Yet how will that happen so long as we’re associated with jade, which is still misunderstood and has a bad reputation in Espenia?” The widow sighed deeply. “Should we give up our culture, our birthright for thousands of years, and become just like the weaker immigrants such as the Tuni or Shotarians? Or do we instead give up the chance to be accepted and have lawful influence? There’s no good choice. We have to find another way. That’s what our friends in No Peak have been trying to do.”