“That’s what makes this such an exciting challenge,” exclaimed one of Hollin’s partners, a stout man with freckles who’d been introduced as Bernett. “A complex, prolonged marketing campaign to change widespread public perception of a product that can’t be purchased? I’m not sure it’s ever been done before, by any agency.”
The third partner, a dark-skinned man named Walford, said, “We believe the key is to connect bioenergetic jade with positive social values, particularly ones that Espenians already admire about Kekonese culture, such as discipline, duty, honor, strength, and the warrior ethos of protecting the weak. People will be receptive to accepting jade if it feels as relevant to our country as yours.”
Shae was surprised by the pang she felt at the foreigner’s words. She picked up the photograph of the teenage Academy students, standing together attentively in their school training uniforms as an instructor and an assistant demonstrated a Deflection exercise. “Jade is a part of everything in Kekonese culture—our myths, our history, our way of life,” she mused aloud. She touched the bracelet on her wrist. “Being green has greater significance than the abilities a person gains.” Was it possible, she wondered, for anyone who was not Kekonese to understand that?
Hollin picked up a black permanent marker and began scrawling on the photo of the Navy Angels hoisting the flag and circling the words: warrior, honorable, green, patriot. “Bioenergetic jade has thousands of years of history in Kekon. That’s not the case in Espenia. Which means we’re in a position to define what jade means.”
“We’re not the largest agency you could hire,” said Walford, “but with Rigly’s experience and passion for the cause, you’d be assured of our full commitment.”
One of the things that Shae appreciated about Espenians was how enthusiastically mercenary they were. Lured by the prospect of a unique professional challenge and a lucrative multiyear contract with a wealthy international client, one would think that the three foreigners were ready to kneel and swear oaths to the No Peak clan. Then again, she thought wryly, was that any different from how Lantern Men behaved?
Shae thanked the partners of WBH Focus for coming. She said she would review the additional materials they left for her and contact them again soon. When the Espenians were gone, she turned to her Rainmaker and Master Luckbringer.
“This could prove to be a massive waste of the clan’s money,” Terun admitted with a sigh, “but over the years, our attempts to gain greater influence in ROE politics haven’t gotten us anywhere. Hamijen was bringing up concerns about the ongoing costs and the enormous risk to the Espenian business even eight years ago when I first came here, and with Slow War frictions between the countries, our reasons to worry have only grown.”
Hami nodded. “The bill on medical legalization succeeded only after the campaign went straight to the public. It could take a long time, but continuing that approach might blunt the effects of racial prejudice and create support for a complete repeal of the ban.”
“Then we should pursue it,” Shae said. “Terun, whoever succeeds you here will have to manage this additional priority. Hamijen, as Rainmaker, it’ll be important for you to be involved as well.” Both men nodded.
Shae placed a hand over her belly. What kind of a world was her child being born into, where Espenian advertising executives might be defining the meaning of jade? Was that any sort of world, Shae wondered, in which to raise a Green Bone?
It’s the world we have. At least she could ensure No Peak had a hand in it.
Terun said, “Kaul-jen, we should also talk about the news from Resville.” The Master Luckbringer dropped a recent edition of the Resville Gazette onto the table. It had been opened and folded over to an article stating that the opening of the Sands of Illusion casino had been postponed for a second time, as a result of costly delays due to unexplained difficulties in hiring and retaining contractors.
Hami read the article and snorted. “The Mountain must be furious. It’s a good thing this Jon Remi fellow is on our side.” The Sands of Illusion casino was not the only Mountain-owned property in Resville that had been recently beset with problems. Several retail and gambling operations with Mountain backing had run into mysterious business trouble or were victims of robbery or arson. The Mountain was having a hard time defending its holdings and fighting back, as it possessed limited manpower on the ground in Espenia. The Kekonese and Shotarian enforcers it brought in found it difficult to operate in a city like Resville, where the myriad of local gangsters knew and hated each other, but hated outsiders even more.