The V'Dan (47 page)

“And how soon will I get my plating?” she asked.

“I’ll put in the order right now, if you like. All I need is a chance to speak with the right engineers here on V’Dan, get the exact specifications for vehicle armor, then send the requisition forms to Admiral Nayak. He’ll get the ceristeel industry working on the problem within a day, as soon as we know the exact dimensions. After that . . . it depends on how quickly they can program the manufacturing process to those specifications, but I’d say twenty panels would be ready to ship within two weeks, maybe a month at most.”

“Yet you want me to do this in three days?” the older stateswoman challenged her.

Jackie tipped her head. “Well, it is a
reward
for doing it . . . so you have to prove that you actually
do
it.”

“Then why put in the order right now?” Hana’ka asked, puzzled.

That earned her a quick, mischievous smile. “Because
eventually
you’ll want that plating anyway . . . and we’ll have it ready and waiting for the right incentive to
sell
it to you. At the regular economic-valued price.”

Hearing that, Hana’ka winced. Jackie gave her a small, sympathetic look, but only a small one; she knew the other woman knew exactly how much ceristeel cost. Those had been among the many trade factors hashed through in their economics-integration sessions. More to the point, Hana’ka knew that Jackie knew that she knew.

“I feel like I’m being extorted into this . . . An Empress should not be extorted,” Hana’ka asserted.

“It’s hardly that, Eternity,” the Terran Ambassador told her. Jackie sipped at her
mo’klah
, swallowed, and added, “If anything, my side is the one that could be considered under extortion since price for price, we’re paying the most out of pocket. A little plasflesh paint, a little hair coloring, and all you have to do is walk through your daily routine like you normally would. I have to convince an admiral of the second-highest rank to
pay
for all that ceristeel, when the Navy is busy building as many ships as it can, and needs all the hull plating it can get.”

“True, but you
are
asking me to do something no Emperor or Empress has ever tried,” Hana’ka countered.

“I presume you mean since the time of War King Kah’el,” Jackie said, leveling the other woman a look. “I may not know more than a fraction of V’Dan’s history, but I do know that the Immortal High One ruled for five hundred years longer than your bloodline has sat on that very same Eternal Throne . . . and I personally know she has no
jungen
marks.”

Hana’ka narrowed her eyes a little. They narrowed more, accompanied by a frown. A sip, and she continued to cogitate. Abruptly, her eyes snapped wide open, wide enough that Jackie could see the whites all the way around those pewter-gray irises. Jackie quickly flung up her hand, sensing the name that the Empress was thinking so loud, anyone above a Rank 6 in telepathy who could have been in the room with them would have heard it.

(
Stop,
) she ordered telepathically. The sending startled the older woman enough that her cup jostled in her hand. Hana’ka quickly set it down. Jackie sent again. (
Do
not
say her name aloud. You and I both know this is being recorded by your security staff. Even I, a Terran, could guess that revealing her identity would cause all sorts of problems. I apologize for sending my thoughts to you, but rest assured, I am not reading
yours directly. Except for the fact you were thinking that name so loudly, I could hear it through my shielding.
)

Looking a little pale, Hana’ka set down her cup. “. . . I would like to discuss a certain topic of my own, now.”

Drawing in a deep breath, since she had expected something like this the moment she used her telepathy, Jackie nodded. “What would you like to discuss?”

Hana’ka looked away for a moment, gathering herself for something. She looked at the younger woman and lifted her chin the tiniest bit. “I want lessons in how to shield my mind. And I want the trade language of your people transferred to me. Not just to my husband, but to
me
. I am told that this is an
intimate
process, that I will learn things about you in the teaching method, but I still want it done.”

“A few things, though not many,” Jackie admitted. This was not what she had expected; rather the opposite, in fact. “The first one is always ‘the worst’ as my people say. I learned a
great
deal about Li’eth—Kah’raman,” she corrected herself.

His mother held up her hand, palm toward herself. “Call him what you like. If the two of you are a holy partnership, I can hardly stop it. And that is what multiple names are for, to give a child a choice of what they preferred to be called by their closest family and friends.”

“Thank you. A question. What made you decide this would be an acceptable thing to do?” Jackie asked, curious. “You are technically placing your mind—the last bastion of privacy you have—in my hands. What prompted you to trust me in this matter?”

“I am told you did this thing, giving our language, to your own highest-ranked leader, your Premiere A’goo-stus Callan.”

Jackie had to bite her tongue for a moment against the pronunciation attempt. Very carefully not mentioning it, she said, “Yes. I did so personally at his request.”

“If your own leader trusts you . . . and given the honor and honesty you have displayed to my people so far,” Hana’ka allowed, “then I shall choose to trust you.”

“Well, at this point, I am familiar enough with Imperial High V’Dan, I can transfer it without learning excessive amounts of your personal life.
Some
things will come across,”
she warned her hostess, pouring more
mo’klah
into both their cups, since both were low, “but that is only to ensure that I am attaching the correct pieces of vocabulary to the requisite bits of memory. And I certainly will not use any of that information against you.”

“I have been Empress for twenty-seven years and grew up watching my father rule for decades before that. Tell it to the other ear,” Hana’ka stated dryly. “I
know
you will use some of it against me. I am willing to take that risk.”

Jackie met her scoffing gaze levelly. “That is not our way, Eternity. That is not the way of our politicians these days, and that is definitely not the way of our psychically gifted. In fact, of any group of people, any section of society, you will find that it is the mind-speakers of my people, the telepaths, who are the
least
enamored of the idea of reading someone else’s thoughts. Mental privacy is our highest goal in life—if you have ever been in a location where the walls are so thin that you can constantly hear people in the next room talking and talking and talking, you would have a glimpse as to why. Your people can
think
of mine as markless children inside the privacy of their own skulls. The only thing we
require
of them is that we be
treated
as full adults.”

“Yet you want me to undergo this test,” Hana’ka pointed out.

“You don’t have to, of course,” Jackie allowed. “But it will help you understand just how important it is to address this cultural rift between our people. If you want our business, you have to treat us with respect. If you want our troops to defend your worlds, freeing up your own to man your ships and space stations, your people have to understand, with all the conviction you as their leader can muster, that mine must be treated with respect. If they are to settle on your colonyworlds and contribute to the local businesses, economies, and social interactions, they
have
to be respected as they are.

“My people do not care if yours are brown-spotted or blue-striped, or carry no marks at all. We find such things to be silly, shallow, and a concept we left behind over a hundred years ago. It wasn’t easy, but we left it behind. We are able to accept you as you are and treat you with the respect of a fellow adult. Your son and his fellow officers were treated with
respect by my people well over 83 percent of the time during their stay on Earth.”

“And you want my people to accept yours. I may be the Empress, but I am just one person,” Hana’ka reminded her.

“You are the Eternal Empress. Your people look up to you with great respect and consider your word to be law. If you say we must be respected—and keep saying it, and enforce it—then we will eventually be treated with respect.”

Again, the Eternal Empress mulled it over. Finally, she said, “I will do it . . . in exchange for language and mind-shielding lessons. For myself and my husband, and anyone else in the immediate Imperial Family who wishes them—all the ones who were on the Imperial Tier, plus our children and grandchildren who were not there.”

“I cannot make any such transfers with children, I’m sorry,” Jackie apologized. “The mind of a child is too underdeveloped, and the vocabulary too inadequate. You really should take the ceristeel plating; the cost is considerably higher for that than for a couple dozen language transfers . . . which we would give you for free anyway, in the interests of smoothing diplomacy.”

“For free?” At Jackie’s nod, Hana’ka shrugged. “Very well, then. Let it remain unsaid that I tried to cheat you with a costly set of armor in exchange for a little face and hair paint, for I have offered otherwise.”

Jackie wrinkled her nose. “I suspect you’ll think you were
short-sheeted
instead, after your day is up . . . Ah . . . how do I explain
that
euphemism in V’Dan terms, since there’s no direct analog . . .”

Hana’ka picked up her cup and gestured for Jackie to go on.

JUNE 8, 2287 C.E.
FEVRA 2, 9508 V.D.S.

Jackie finished reading the last subparagraph and sat back, nodding slowly to herself. “This is good. This is
really
good. Rosa, Surat,” she told her Assistant Ambassador and the historian assigned to help her in her research, “this is a
solid
document. Li’eth explained to us what goes into an Alliance
Charter, and I’ve read over the V’Dan and the Solarican ones in my spare time . . . and I think this is comparable to both. I think we can take these to the Alliance Assembly . . . whenever they can get around to having one, what with the war and all. Have you run this past the Council?”

Rosa shook her head. “No. I was going to do that after running it past you. I should do it in person, though.”

“I can run it to the Council,” Surat Juntasa told her.

“While ‘politician’ may no longer be a dirty word, young man,” Rosa told the slightly younger male, “I do still have some fame and clout on my side. It’ll get onto the discussion docket faster, and be taken more seriously, if I, as a former Premiere, present it to the Council as a good idea. You’re intelligent and articulate, but you haven’t been a Counselor yourself. You don’t have to recite the Oath every single workday for umpteen years.”

“Tell me about it,” Jackie muttered. “I almost forgot to do that, the day the news about the new corporal punishment regulations came out.”

A noise outside their conference room interrupted whatever Surat meant to say. All three of them paused, frowning at the door. It slid open, letting a furious-looking ash-blond woman with fuchsia-pink crescents marking her face stride inside. Hurrying in her wake was her blond, burgundy-striped brother.

“Vi’alla, this is
not
appropriate behavior!” Li’eth snapped at his sister. “You do
not
barge into a private—”

“—Quiet!”
Her Imperial Highness snapped, glaring down at Jackie. “
You
did this!
You
suggested this . . . this
humiliation
of the Empire!”

Jackie blinked at the finger being pointed at her face, then looked over to Rosa. “I believe the Crown Princess was not aware of her mother’s announcement yesterday.”

“She didn’t make it yesterday as planned; she made it today,” Li’eth interjected. “
After
appearing in Imperial Court without them.”

“Without what?” Surat asked.

“Without her holy
jungen
!”
Vi’alla snapped. She jabbed her finger again at the Grand High Ambassador. “I will have you dismissed for this . . . this
disgrace
!”

Jackie inhaled, prepared to defend herself. Rosa beat her to it. She stood up and looked down her nose at the princess even as she addressed the younger woman’s accusation. “I suspect
your own mother
did not think of it as a disgrace or a source of humiliation when she agreed to do it of her own free will. Which was her choice entirely. The
only
shame being implied in any of this matter is in
your
head, Your Highness.
You
are the one thinking shameful, disgrace-filled thoughts about your own mother. Not any of us.

“But then, that
is
the point, isn’t it?” Rosa asked, her tone level, if dry and just a little bit pointed at certain words. “To us, your mother, Eternal Empress Hana’ka V’Daania, has not lost
anything
. To us, she is still the powerful ruler of the vast V’Dan Empire. To us, she is still the War Queen defending her people with all of her might and all of her brilliance. To
us
, she is still a woman to be respected and obeyed by her people.

“She could paint herself purple from head to toe, dye her hair pink, and she would
still
have our respect. You
should
be asking yourself why
you
think she has lost all of that, just because she has temporarily hidden her
jungen
marks. Then, perhaps, you will understand the troubles that lie between our people and yours. Maybe, just maybe,” Rosa added as Vi’alla bristled, “you will understand why we are increasingly
reluctant
to help a nation that is so consistently disrespectful to
us
 . . . particularly if even your Eternal Empress can be considered a shameful disgrace by her own child just because of a little face paint and hair dye for a day.

“You have barged in here like a petulant, spoiled child who thinks she has the right to go everywhere, even into a house that is not her own,” Rosa added. “This is not your house. This is the Terran embassy zone. Our rules apply here. Our culture applies here. And
we
judge people by the maturity of their
actions
, not the color or lack thereof on their faces. Have the courtesy to leave even if you haven’t shown us any maturity.
Now.
”