“They’re real,” said Galo, “but also exaggerated. The nekolva are the result of an Ygutanian military program that began after the Many Nations War. Over the past thirty years, hundreds of Abukei women have been trafficked to Ygutan or lured there with the promise of domestic work. When they arrive, they’re forced to become surrogates for supposedly infertile couples. Beginning in childhood, the mixedrace offspring are dosed with low levels of SN1 and ground jade powder. Some of them suffer debilitating side effects or die as a result. The ones that show promise are given the country’s best military training.”
Bero exclaimed, “The Ygutanian soldiers eat jade?”
Galo glanced over at Berglund, who nodded for him to continue. “Ygutan doesn’t have a reliable supply of high-quality bioenergetic jade. Lower-grade jade obtained on the black market and industrially ground into powder is more effective when ingested. The toll on the body dramatically cuts down their life expectancy, but without visible jade, the nekolva make excellent spies and operatives. They require regular doses of jade powder and SN1, so they’re easier for handlers to control. They’re Ygutan’s answer to our Navy Angels or your country’s Green Bone warriors. And they’re here in Janloon.”
No wonder Guriho and Otonyo and the other leaders of the Clanless Future Movement were eager to make friends with the Ygutanian, if he might be as powerful as a Green Bone. Bero pushed Molovni’s photograph away. “I don’t know him at all. It’s not like we talk.”
“If one of the nekolva is getting involved in subversive activities in Kekon, then the Ygutanian government is behind it. We want to find out what Molovni’s up to. It could be of vital consequence to your country and ours.” Galo had been standing, leaning over the table. Now he pulled out a chair and sat down across from Bero, lowering his voice in a serious and solicitously coaxing manner. “We know you take part in anti-clan gatherings and activities. We want you to increase your involvement in the CFM and report everything you observe to us: what goes on in the meetings, when Molovni shows up and what he says, who he talks to and spends time with.”
Bero made an ugly face. “I’m not going to spy for you spennies.”
A flash of irritation broke through Galo’s professional demeanor. He opened his mouth to respond, but Berglund spoke up from where he was watching. Galo turned toward him and the two men had a brief conversation in their own language. When Galo faced Bero again, his expression was recomposed and he wore a small, coldly confident smile. “I should’ve mentioned earlier that we don’t offer to make someone an informant for nothing. We identified and selected you, and we pulled strings with the Janloon police to bring you here. Of course, you can decline to work with us. We’ll drive you back to the police station and pretend this conversation never happened. You’ll go back to hiding from Green Bones and working your deadend job. Probably best for you to leave before your employer finds out why you were arrested, but that’ll make it tough to pay the hefty vandalism fine you’ve been saddled with. Or you can choose to receive a thousand Espenian thalirs in cash every month.”
Bero nearly choked on a swallow of watermelon soda.
“We’ll also take care of that unfortunate fine you owe,” Galo said offhandedly, as if throwing a bonus item into a set of kitchen knives. “And think about this: Wouldn’t it be helpful to have allies who want to keep you safe, who could even get you away from the Green Bone clans, if things start going badly for your friends in the Clanless Future Movement?”
“They’re not my friends,” Bero grumbled, but not really arguing. A thousand thalirs a month! How much was that in dien? Seven thousand? Eight thousand? A lot.
“That’s why you’re perfect for the job,” said Galo. “I don’t doubt that you have your own reasons for opposing the clans, or else you wouldn’t have joined the CFM to begin with. But I can see you’re no ideologue. I could try to convince you that we’re on the same side, and cooperating with us would be doing a service to your country … but that doesn’t matter to you, does it? You have no real loyalties. You do what you have to—you look out for yourself.” Galo said all this with matter-of-fact equanimity and did not lose his small smile. “So what do you say?”
Bero finished the soda in the bottle. “I’ll do it,” he said.
CHAPTER
13
No Secrets
the seventh year, sixth month