Once, she shared her feelings of dread with her sister-in-law. Wen, who was not in the least superstitious, had scoffed, “Sister Shae, when is life ever like a story where the characters get exactly what they deserve, good or bad? You’re not used to being afraid, but every new mother is afraid. What you’re feeling is only natural.”
Shae thought that was a touch unfair. She was no stranger to fear. Who else in the family regularly prayed to the gods? The most honest prayers were inspired by terror.
The dinner that evening was held at a Kekonese restaurant that was reputed to be the most authentic in Port Massy, with the exception of a few popular Espenicized dishes on the menu such as smoked pork on toast and fried shrimp salad. The food was surprisingly good, leagues better than anything Shae had had when she’d been a student in Windton fifteen years ago, and she was happy to talk to so many of the clan’s expats and the local staff. Nevertheless, she begged off early to make sure she did indeed get enough sleep.
Late the following morning, she and Hami walked into the clan’s Port Massy headquarters. The Kekon Trade Partnership Liaison Office, as it read on the stenciled brass plate on the door and on the black glass directory in the lobby of the building, had recently expanded to take over the entire twelfth floor in the towering Packer Avenue skyscraper. The location was smaller but almost as nice as the office tower on Ship Street in Janloon, and certainly a far cry from the squat, modest professional services building that had initially housed the clan’s Espenian operations when Hami had first arrived in the country. As they walked onto a busy office floor filled with the sounds of ringing telephones, clacking keyboards, and conversations happening in Kekonese and Espenian, Shae saw the gruff satisfaction on Hami’s face. No Peak’s success overseas was his personal legacy in the clan.
That success was still deeply, troublingly vulnerable. When Rigly Hollin and the two other partners of the advertising agency WBH Focus arrived, Shae met them in the office’s main conference room. She shook their hands, introduced Hami and Terun, and said, in Espenian, “I’m pleased to finally meet you in person, Mr. Hollin. My cousin, Dr. Emery, has told me about how effective you and your firm were at campaigning for the legalization of bioenergetic jade in the healthcare field. Your results speak for themselves.”
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you as well, Ms. Kaul-jen,” Hollin said, impressing her by using the proper Green Bone suffix and touching his clasped hands to his forehead in a Kekonese salute. She was surprised, until she remembered that Hollin had a Kekonese wife. “WBH Focus is a global agency, and we’re keen to serve international clients.”
Shae gestured the advertising executives into chairs around the table. Hami and Terun, both of them accustomed to Espenian business customs, took seats next to her. Shae said, “I trust you’ve been briefed on why we’re interested in hiring your firm.”
Nodding avidly, Hollin opened his briefcase and began taking out documents. “Getting bioenergetic jade legalized for medical use moved it toward mainstream acceptance. But obviously you can’t win the rucket unless you follow through on the toss off.” Despite the victories Anden had secured, the Espenian Physicians Society remained opposed to jade medicine, and there was no movement toward a broader repeal of the civilian ban. Hollin handed out charts and tabulated survey responses. “Our preliminary market research reveals that among the general public, bioenergetic jade is still viewed as dangerous, even unnatural or unTruthful—a view that reinforces prejudice not only against Kekonese people, but also taints military veterans who find it difficult to reintegrate into civilian life without stigma.”
Hollin laid several pages of photographs on the table. They depicted an open pit mine with scrawny men picking through piles of rocks, bombed-out buildings in war-torn Oortoko, and mug shots of barukan crime bosses. “These are the things people associate with jade right now.” Hollin laid out a second set of images. “What if we could replace them with these ideas instead?” Shae saw ROE Navy Angels hoisting the Espenian flag, a Kekonese doctor with a jade medical bracelet talking to a mother and child, and a group of children training at the Academy. She wondered how Hollin had gotten a photograph from inside the Academy. Then she realized it was a publicity photo that the Academy itself used to promote its visiting student program to overseas Kekonese.
“We aren’t selling soda or cars,” Hami said skeptically. “Jade isn’t something that ordinary people need, and they can’t buy it for themselves. It’ll be hard to change opinions when you’re not offering any tangible benefit.”