“Yes, yes, you have a nice logo, newsletters, and meetings.” The foreigner spoke Kekonese clearly enough, but the words were clipped both by his accent and his impatience. “But the Green Bone clans have jade, money, weapons, and people. It seems you don’t have much of any of those things.”
Tadino got to his feet. He worked at the Little Persimmon as a bar runner, and it was on account of his stepfather being friends with Guriho that the lounge was a safe place to hold these meetings. “I don’t know how things work where you’re from,” he exclaimed heatedly, “but here we don’t rudely interrupt people, especially if we’re strangers who haven’t introduced ourselves.”
The foreigner stood as well, causing those around him to lean away warily. Tadino tensed, but after a thoughtful moment, the curlyhaired man merely spread his hands. “You are right,” he admitted, more humbly. “I apologize if I offend anyone with my blunt questions. You can see I’m not from here. My name is Molovni and I came to Janloon because I heard about your worthy cause.”
A murmur of suspicion and astonishment went through the Little Persimmon. Even Guriho blinked his small eyes and seemed unsure of what to say.
“He’s Ygutanian,” Ema whispered with excitement.
“You may not know this, but there are many outside your country who are sympathetic to the plight of the Kekonese people living under the boot of the clans. I came here to learn more about your struggle.” Molovni sat back down, nodding to Guriho. “I spoke out of turn, but please, continue your speech. It is ambitious, no doubt, but even goals that seem out of reach can be accomplished with the help of the right friends.”
CHAPTER
8
Speaking for the Family
Emery Anden tried not to be made nervous by the half dozen foreign doctors watching his midterm exam. Pretend they’re not here, he told himself firmly, turning away as he rolled up his sleeves and fastened the physician’s training band around his left wrist. It was a snugfitting piece of leather, similar to the one he’d worn as a teenager at Kaul Dushuron Academy, but dyed bright yellow to indicate he was a student in the medical profession. There were five pieces of jade on Anden’s band, far less than he’d handled in the past, but sufficient for what was required today.
Anden closed his eyes and took five long, even breaths, pacing himself through the familiar adjustment, then walked over to the sink to wash his hands. His body hummed with jade energy and nerves. Six years ago—a lifetime, it seemed—he’d sworn he would never wear green again. Now he was putting it on and taking it off so frequently it had become routine and indistinguishable from the other drudgeries and stresses of medical school. In his second year at the College of Bioenergetic Medicine, he was required to gain a certain number of hours of clinical experience, but when he’d walked into Janloon General Hospital for the first time to begin training, he’d briefly considered turning around and quitting his studies. He had bad memories of this place. Sitting in the corridor as a child listening to his mother’s screams. Waking up feverish and jade parched after killing Gont Asch. It had taken weeks for his stomach to stop clenching when he walked through the hospital doors. Being put on the spot in front of watching strangers in an operating room caused the buried discomfort to sit up again.
Six Espenian doctors stood against the wall in loaned scrubs, holding clipboards and pens. One of them had a 35 mm camera in hand. They were visitors from the Demphey Medical Research Center at Watersguard University in Adamont Capita, here to study the use of jade in the healthcare field. The Espenians had decades ago seen the military usefulness of jade, but only recently had some of them become interested in how the Kekonese employed jade abilities in other areas. They watched Anden with such intensely expectant scrutiny that he was reminded of being under the glare of Kaul Du Academy masters during final Trials.
The patient—a fifty-seven-year-old man with a vascular tumor of the liver—had already been anesthetized and prepped for surgery. Anden’s job was purely preoperative; the surgeon had not yet come into the room. Dr. Timo, Anden’s supervising Green Bone physician, checked the man’s vital signs, then nodded for Anden to proceed. “Take your time,” he encouraged.
Anden studied the X-ray images once more, to remind himself of the shape and size of the tumor to be removed, then he stretched out his Perception and burrowed his awareness into the unconscious man’s energy. The steady throb of the patient’s blood and organs resolved into a map in Anden’s mind. After a broad glance around the landscape of the body, he brought the focus of his Perception into the network of blood flow within the man’s torso, navigating his way through what felt like layers of connected piping, of varying lengths and widths, all of them humming with the life they carried. Anden’s eyes went unfocused, sliding halfway shut in concentration.