Servers cleared the plates away, a short film was played, and the chairman of the foundation stood up to thank all the guests and exhort them to give their financial and political backing to conservation efforts. He expressed particular thanks for the support of the country’s Green Bone clans and invited Wen to make a few remarks.
Wen rose and walked to the podium, trying to make her gradual approach appear deliberate instead of physically cautious. Her hands were sweating. When she reached the microphone, she took a moment to look out across the gathered and attentive faces. Then she began speaking, as slowly as she had practiced, pretending that she was relating a family story to friends rather than delivering an address to strangers, so that her words would come out clearly and naturally, without stutters and lapses.
She began by telling an amusing anecdote about Hilo taking her into the mountains on a day trip many years ago and getting them hopelessly lost. At the time, he’d been the Horn of No Peak and knew the city of Janloon like a guard dog knows every rock and blade of grass in its yard, but he had less sense of direction in the wilderness. The audience laughed at the idea of the fearsome Kaul Hiloshudon trudging stubbornly through the forest in the wrong direction. Wen savored a warm rush of triumph. She imagined that Hilo would not appreciate her recounting the embarrassing event to a banquet of prominent Janloon society members, but he was not here to be annoyed. She alone was in the unique position to share the relatable, human side of the family, to show that the Kauls were powerful people, but still people.
“As our country’s economy grows, as our cities expand and our factories multiply, we must balance our drive toward prosperity with prudence. Many would say that jade is Kekon’s most valuable natural resource. Yet jade can only be used by a few people, while the natural beauty of our island belongs to us all, regardless of wealth, clan, blood, or ability. And so it’s up to all of us to protect it as fiercely as we protect our families and our values.” Wen returned to her seat at the table amid sustained applause, pleased and relieved to have gotten through it.
Jirhuya leaned in. “That was beautifully delivered, Mrs. Kaul,” he said. “Would you be willing to speak at the Charitable Society for Jade Nonreactivity sometime? I volunteer for the organization and I know the members on the board. Having someone so prominent in the No Peak clan talk openly about being a stone-eye would go a long way toward destigmatizing nonreactivity. Would you consider it?”
“I would be pleased to do so, if my schedule allows,” Wen told him.
Before they could continue the conversation, the chairman of the foundation returned to the podium and invited Koben Yiro to make a few remarks on behalf of the Mountain clan. Koben stood up, rebuttoned his suit across his broad chest, and made his way to the microphone. The audience fell silent and leaned forward.
“For much of its history, Kekon was a civilization at harmony with its natural surroundings,” Koben began, in a dramatic, rumbling voice. “There’s no better example of that than the great Wie Lon Temple School, where we gather today. Unfortunately, like so many other vital elements of Kekonese culture, those values are under attack.”
Koben spoke about the long-term degradation of Kekon’s wilderness caused by decades of grasping colonial interests: deforestation caused by jade mining for the purpose of fulfilling export contracts with the Republic of Espenia, pollution by foreign companies, and the loss of five square kilometers of natural habitat on Euman Island as a result of the expansion of the ROE naval base. “As I speak,” Koben boomed, stabbing a finger in the air as his resonant voice vibrated with passion, “an Espenian company is dredging our coastal regions for jade. Brave patriots destroyed the first mining ship, but Espenian greed knows no bounds, and another was sent to steal jade from the ocean—and, in the process, ruin traditional indigenous fishing regions and destroy irreplaceable natural habitats.
“We can’t solve environmental damage until we talk about their primary cause: foreigners,” Koben proclaimed. “It’s time we turn away from the destructive path we’ve been on for decades—time to stop bowing to foreign corporations, spending precious resources on refugees, and letting jade leave our shores.” Some people in the audience tapped the table in polite applause; others stamped their feet and called out in vehement agreement. Koben, buoyed by the response, shook his fist in the air and concluded with conviction. “Together, we must root out foreign exploitation in all forms! Only then can we protect our beautiful island home.”