She looked to Hilo. This was not Kekon, and these Green Bones had sworn no clan oaths, so when Hilo drew his gaze around the table and spoke, it was not with the quick, easy authority Anden was accustomed to, but mildly and persuasively. “Many of you know that No Peak has been trying to change the laws against jade in this country. My cousin Anden won us the first victory when he convinced Espenian doctors and politicians to legalize jade for medical use. Today, there are Kekonese doctors running clinics right here in Port Massy. Andy, tell us how many there are now.”
Anden said, “There are sixty licensed jade medicine clinics and around two hundred recognized practitioners in Espenia. I was part of the panel of doctors from the College of Bioenergetic Medicine in Janloon that drafted the international standards of practice that these clinics are required to meet to be certified. The National Assembly has approved a special visa to allow Kekonese doctors to move to Espenia to practice medicine, and last year there were twelve Keko-Espenians admitted into the college in Janloon, the largest number of international students they’ve ever had.”
Hilo said, “What Andy’s done was a big step, but we’re not there yet, not where we want to be. The clan has been working with a PR firm to change Espenian attitudes about jade. Maybe you’ve seen some of the ads. It seems the surest way to make anything happen in this country is to get on television.” This garnered chuckles from around the table.
Rigly Hollin and his partners at WBH Focus, armed with research from focus groups and attitudinal studies, had taken out full-page magazine ads, billboards, and television spots that presented jade in a positive light. Anden had seen one in the Air Espenia in-flight magazine on their way over to Port Massy: a photograph of a group of Navy Angels holding up their jade dog tags with the exhortation to SUPPORT OUR JADE WARRIORS. It had made Hilo grimace with contempt, but no one could argue with Shae’s strategy. The Espenians would never accept jade unless they believed they owned it as much as anyone in the world, even the Kekonese.
Sana said, “If jade was accepted by society, we could live openly as Green Bones without fear of the law. In our communities, there could be not only jade medicine clinics, but proper Deitist temples, and schools teaching the jade disciplines. Of course, it would never be the same as Kekon, but it would be much better than it is now.” Sana’s voice was still strong, but she was not used to being the center of attention. She looked around the table of Green Bone men before clutching her hands together and firming her lips. “Most importantly, we would no longer have to choose between being Kekonese or Espenians. We could be both. That is a dream I know Losun would want to see come true.”
Cory nodded and straightened in his seat. “That’s why we propose forming a national organization: the Kekonese Association of Espenia—to promote cultural understanding and to address issues that affect the entire Keko-Espenian community. We’ll help new immigrants, promote Kekonese culture and transamaric business ties, and lobby the government to repeal the prohibition against jade.” He turned toward Hilo and Anden. “It won’t be a clan. There won’t be a Pillar. But it’ll be Green Bones working together to protect our community, so in that most important way, it’ll be similar.”
Dauk Losun must’ve been proud of his son in the end, Anden thought. Cory wasn’t green in the soul in the traditional Kekonese sense, but he’d found his own way to be successful in his father’s world. When he spoke, it was with a compelling confidence.
The lawyer grew more serious as he addressed the entire room again. “If we hope to accomplish our goals, however, we need to work together to shift certain cultural attitudes and change the way Kekonese-Espenians are viewed by the public. If we want the ban on jade repealed, then we need to demonstrate that Green Bones are law-abiding citizens in all other respects. Which means taking steps to pull out of illegal activities.” An expectant silence fell over the dining table. “Take our grudge halls, for example. Before my da passed away we discussed implementing new rules: no more cockfighting or illegal gambling, and no more clean-bladed dueling. Nothing that will give the police an excuse to raid our properties.”
A murmur of incredulity rose from the out-of-town Green Bones. “What’s the point of even having the grudge halls without those things?” exclaimed Hasho Baku, the Green Bone leader from Evenfield. “People are going to duel no matter what you say. They’ll just do it somewhere else and be even more likely to be caught.”