Reclamation (Book One of the Art of War Trilogy), page 22
‘Ashgurn-valta,’ the same executor said again, still in a low voice but reduced both in volume and dissonance. Intense irritation, rather than outright anger. A marked improvement, as far as Yano was concerned.
‘Executor Xavanis, Executor Folgana, I have an important message from the President of the United Nations,’ Yano said in his best FP, modulated, with the assistance of his IHD, to convey respectful urgency. ‘I would be grateful if you could hear and acknowledge this missive before we address the problems that have arisen in the past twenty-four hours.’
He winced at his poor choice of words and felt Codey wince too. ‘Twenty-four hours’ had been the wrong phrase. The expression was technically irrelevant even in the UN, where the variance in day lengths between worlds varied infinitely, and existed only idiomatically to mean a single day/night period. In FP, it would have been total nonsense.
Predictably, the provar had no idea what he was talking about. ‘Ai’ee?’ the executor said. It wasn’t even a word, more a blurt of sound. It was, however, close enough to ‘eh?’ to sound almost comical.
‘Important missive: I am in possession of one. It is for you,’ Yano tried, in a syntax marginally more faithful to FP. There was less confusion this time. One way of discerning how the provar had understood was to watch their nictitating membranes. Closed indicated deep thought.
‘Give throat,’ the executor said, after a minute of silence. Yano suspected they were both running through the near infinite combinations of translations on their IHD equivalents in order to arrive at the most likely. The executor’s anger had given way to wariness, judging by the new tone.
‘Vyax herren’ghet ona khatesh,’ Yano said, carefully reading the FP name for Uvolon written phonetically by his IHD. The mere mention of it caused some consternation among the two provari executors. ‘Three ships. Fleet. Armed. Destroyed.’ With the last word, he made a gesture with his hands which looked like he was holding a rapidly inflating balloon.
‘Ai,’ the lead provar replied, with some relish. Evidently they both understood and delighted in the fate of Captain Jacob Rynn and his men. The lead executor cocked his head to the left: indifference.
‘Fourth ship,’ Yano continued patiently, holding up four fingers. Fortunately, mathematics was the one universal constant. It was the only thing that made the Tier-Three Trade Pact possible. ‘It will arrive in four hours.’
The provar grunted, cocked its head again. Not indifference this time: incomprehension. The future tense was, frustratingly, one of the main stumbling blocks in Terran/FP translation.
‘Three ships,’ Yano said, holding up four fingers and gripping three of them with his left hand. He made the explosion gesture again. ‘Destroyed.’
An upward tilt of the chin. Understanding. ‘Ai.’
‘Fourth ship. No weapons. Peaceful ship.’
‘No four ship. Three klashi.’
Yano exhaled, though he was not frustrated. Xeno Division had bled him free of frustration many years ago. ‘Fourth klashi. Now travelling to vyax herren’ghet ona khatesh. Evacuate non-military people.’ He clicked his tongue in thought. Already there were further difficulties; the provar had no concept of a civilian. Despite the fact that the Ascendancy was made up of a majority of what the UN would term civilians, the provar simply considered them a form of non-armed serviceperson. Everything in the Ascendancy was done in furtherance of the common purpose. Still, the provar were at least aware of how the UN functioned from a dozen such historical summits. The lead executor appeared to understand.
‘Vhyrmin klashi, no attack Imphraexes. Imphraexes no attack vhyrmin klashi.’ It was a question, though lacking in the vocal inflections a human would associate with such.
‘They’ve got it,’ Codey murmured from behind him. Yano nodded. It always struck him how closely the FP word for human resembled the Terran word ‘vermin’. A cosmic coincidence, but at least as far as the Ascendancy was concerned, a fitting one.
It took another thirty minutes to hammer home the imminent arrival of the Achilles and the intention of the UN to have it evacuate Anternis. Once those basic facts had been established, the two provar soon readopted their hostile attitudes. Their disdain would only ever be tempered by their curiosity temporarily. The best Yano could hope for was for these periods of grace to last long enough to get the message across, and that was precisely what Xeno Division had trained him for.
After a further hour of intense, if obstructive, discussion, Yano had managed to secure what could loosely be termed an assurance that the unarmed Achilles would not be attacked immediately upon its arrival into Uvolonese voidspace. Anything further – what the ship would then do, and how it would go about it – was a different matter entirely, and would require hours of further explanation, discussion and negotiation.
Already Yano was not hopeful. For it to take so long simply to get the provar to agree not to obliterate a non-military craft was deeply disheartening. Provari disdain was nothing new, but this fresh obstreperousness did not bode well at all.
‘Tell McKone we have secured assurances that the Achilles won’t be attacked,’ Yano said quietly as he turned to Codey. Codey nodded, stood and exited the room, bowing to the two executors as he did so. Xavanis dismissed Folgana to relay the same orders to the relevant Ascendancy personnel. For a few minutes, Yano and the lead executor were alone in the Hagr Suite.
‘Vhyrmin ghast,’ the provar growled after thirty seconds of silence, his eyes fixed on Yano’s. ‘Humanity is finished’ or perhaps ‘We are finished here, human.’ Yano hoped it was the latter but strongly suspected it was the former.
‘Charming,’ he shot back in Terran, with a smile so perfect it passed for real. Not that the provar would have any idea what he was doing. He probably thought Yano was insane.
Codey came back in after a few minutes and nodded to him. ‘I’ve told him. He passes on the President’s gratitude.’
‘Lucky me,’ Yano said quietly to himself. For all his bravado, he was slightly unnerved by Xavanis’s comment. During the war crimes tribunal after the Insurrection on Merisgard, the provar had been helpful, co-operative even. There had certainly been no love lost between the two species – the action on New Carthage had seen to that – but the Ascendancy executors had never been outright hostile, instead adopting a pained, disdainful but ultimately collaborative approach.
It was then that Yano finally realised what had bothered him about the executors’ caldars – the fact that they were even wearing them at all. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the provar wear the ceremonial weapons to diplomatic meetings. It had to have been a statement of their displeasure, something to mark a downgrading of diplomatic relations between the Ascendancy and the UN following the deaths of the provari pilots – and this quite irrespective of the fact that it was the Ascendancy who had engineered the whole debacle in the first place. It was absurd, akin to he and Codey walking into the summit with rail guns strapped to their chests.
< They’re wearing caldars > he sent to Codey via IHD text-only transmission. < They haven’t worn caldars in years. I can’t remember the last time I saw them >
< I know > Codey replied. < We should debrief with McKone. We may have to rethink our position >
Xavanis grunted from across the suite, drawing their attention. He had been unsettled during the silence, as if he’d reflected on their earlier agreement and was already regretting it. Now, he was actively pacing up and down the room. The movement reminded Yano of a caged animal, angry and confused and helpless all at the same time.
‘Exchange,’ Xavanis said suddenly, his voice brash and dissonant. It was all Yano could do not to start. ‘Vheygari murder. Vhyrmin killed vheygari. Ixa vheygari. Exchange!’
‘He means explain,’ Codey murmured.
‘I know what he means,’ Yano snapped, sweating hands clasped calmly on the table in front of him. The executor was asking him why the UN had murdered four provar – as if it had been some unilateral act. The arrogance of it made his blood boil.
‘We don’t want to address this now,’ Codey said quietly. ‘We should wait for the summit later. We want this on record.’
‘An explanation, we will give one,’ Yano said, his voice modulated to urge patience. He was faintly aware of sounding utterly ridiculous, half-heartedly singing at an alien who hated him. ‘We will give one at the summit. Agree?’
The executor brought his fist down hard on to the table. A shot of adrenaline fired through Yano’s body, though his face remained impassive. It was difficult not to be frightened in the face of an angry provar, especially one who had the means to stab him through the lungs with a sword.
‘Vas!’ the executor snarled. ‘Ixa vheygari!’ Executor Folgana chose that moment to return, charging into the room and standing behind Xavanis’s left shoulder. He puffed his chest in some ancient, ritualistic display of dominance, and breathed deeply and loudly.
‘Okay,’ Yano said in the same stern way an annoyed parent would deal with a child. He turned to Codey. ‘Call Velsze. We’re done here. I’m not going to sit here taking this.’
Codey nodded and left the room calmly and purposefully under the glare of the executors. The worst thing they could do now is appear frightened. If they did, the provar would treat them like they treated kaygryn.
‘We will explain,’ Yano said, modulating his voice once more to convey patience. ‘Urge calm. We will explain. Assurance.’
He wanted to scream. It was intensely galling to act so meekly in front of the representatives of the race who had but hours before wantonly killed hundreds of UN citizens and blown up half a city.
Codey returned momentarily with Velsze, who loped into the room, his voice upbeat and sing-song and completely divorced from the severity of the situation.
‘Now that Special Envoy Yano has communicated his message, perhaps it would be best if there were a cooling-off period ahead of the summit, hmm?’ The zhahassi reiterated as much to the executors in considerably better FP than Yano’s, though they seemed no more placated.
‘Ashgurn-valta!’ they snarled boringly. ‘Ashgurn-valta!’
‘Easy, Jesus Christ,’ Codey muttered, glancing over to Yano. < This is insane, these freaks are going to kill someone >
‘Let’s go. Let them stew,’ Yano said, hiding the disgust from his face. He took his cloak up from the chair next to him and brought it round his shoulders.
‘Samman Zecad, hai,’ he said, bowing to the executors. With angry growls and much chest thumping, they stalked out of the room via the archway behind them.
‘Oh dear,’ Velsze observed, as if he had spilled some tea. ‘Did you manage to... settle your differences?’
‘No, Ambassador,’ Yano said tiredly, shaking his head. ‘Far from it.’
*
They spent the next few hours of the morning in a comfortable caucus room somewhere near the top of the Memorial Tower, taking in the vertiginous view across the Vhalyssian plains and drinking zhahassi tea from thin, translucent mugs. Kaivan and Abena joined them an hour after the meeting with the executors had concluded, having come from a separate meeting with Andrea Constance and her communications officers in the hotel, locked in VR sync with Vargonroth for a briefing on the activation of the Buhrman Protocol. Constance and Graydon had then gone on to a separate part of the Memorial Tower to speak with Zvell and Fhalco to update them, leaving the two junior envoys back at the disposal of Yano and Codey.
Codey filled them both in on the developments with Xavanis and his Second, while Yano brooded, cursorily reading through his briefing ahead of the summit.
‘Shit,’ Abena Ghani said after a short silence.
‘So what are you going to do?’ Kaivan asked.
Codey shrugged. ‘We’ve already spoken with McKone this morning. Our diplomatic brief hasn’t changed. Nothing for it but to bite the bullet.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if the memory of the meeting with the provar had physically pained him. ‘The provar are usually like this, albeit that this morning was an... extreme example. They’ll settle down as time goes on.’
‘We hope,’ Yano called from the other side of the room. Xavanis’s comment lingered in his mind. The more he went back over it, the more he was sure it had been a threat. His IHD had, after careful phonetic and modular analysis, reached the same conclusion.
‘What do you mean?’ Abena asked.
Yano’s lip curled. ‘I think our government has, once again, completely overestimated how much the provar consider themselves responsible for the human death toll on Anternis. They don’t care. At all. Trying to get them to admit culpability is useless.’
‘Then their attitude has hardened in the last decade,’ Codey remarked. ‘They were contrite enough after New Carthage. Initially at least,’ he added as an afterthought. He mused for a moment. ‘Hm. Actually, maybe they weren’t.’
They all looked around as Charlotte Asha walked into the room, looking flustered.
‘The Buhrman Protocol? Sounds like something out of a shitty holo special.’ A zhahassi lhyrin stick dangled from her mouth, trailing vapour. ‘It’s all over everything. Every UN and xeno news outlet there is. If you were trying to piss off your provari friends, mission accomplished.’
‘Tell us something new,’ Yano muttered.
‘I’m telling you it’s an absolute media frenzy out there. You’ll not be seeing Andrea for a while, that’s for sure. And her comms lackeys.’
Yano’s heart sank slightly. He had hoped, in an adolescent sort of way, that Tanja would have come. ‘Shouldn’t you be covering the story?’ he said. She looked at him slightly incredulously. ‘What?’ he asked. He was supposed to be nicer to her, or even grateful, for the sex that she’d foisted upon him? Fine, so he’d allowed it, and hell, having Charlotte Asha bouncing on his cock – the Charlotte Asha, from the news – had been good fun, eventually. But he certainly didn’t owe her anything, especially not his courtesy. Not right now.
‘I’m sorry,’ Codey said for him. ‘The executors–’
‘Pissed him off something good,’ she finished for him and waved him off. ‘Whatever. As a matter of fact, I am covering the story…’ She made a show of checking the time. ‘The story which starts in forty minutes. Or had you all forgotten?’
‘I’ve just had word from Ambassador Velsze,’ Codey interjected before Yano lost his temper. ‘The Xhevegan observer is here and on his way up. Once we’ve collected him, we’ll go to the summit floor.’
Yano sighed loudly. ‘Fantastic.’ He got to his feet and straightened his robes out, then looked out the window again to reflect on Xavanis’s words. Humanity is finished. With the arrival of this Xhevegan observer and the mobilisation of both the Fleet and the Fleet Auxiliary, it wasn’t far from the truth.
‘Observer Faunix Siun, Special Envoys,’ Velsze announced from the door. Everyone turned. Velsze was standing in the doorway next to the provar in question, who was gestured inside.
‘Samman,’ Siun said, much more practised in the use of the single resonating chamber than his Folhourtian counterparts. The provar was, physiologically speaking, practically identical to the Ascendancy executors, though he wore a deep golden sarong rather than blue, did not wear a caldar, and bore nothing like the number of tattoos and scars.
‘Samman,’ Yano replied, singularly unsure how to deal with the apostate. Just being in his presence made Yano feel deeply uncomfortable. Decades of Ascendancy mandates had expressly forbidden any interactions with representatives of the Xhevega Enclaves, and to disregard them now, despite such being officially sanctioned by the UN government, did not sit well with him at all. The provar didn’t even use the Standard Imperial Greeting – though on reflection it was obvious why.
‘Special Envoy Zavian Yano,’ he said in FP, closing the tips of his fingers together and pressing them into his breastbone. ‘Special Envoy Balthazar Codey.’ He gestured to the older man using an open palm.
‘Samman,’ Siun said. ‘Thank you for meeting me.’
Yano’s eyes widened. The provar’s Terran was impeccable. He glanced at Codey, who, equally bewildered, offered nothing beyond a tiny shrug.
‘Forgive me, Mr Siun, but your Terran is... quite excellent,’ Yano said, astonished. It was better than most zhahassi pronunciation.
Siun’s ears twitched: pleasure. ‘Thank you, Special Envoy. I have had many long years of training. Even now I am learning – please, I insist that you correct any mistakes I make.’
Yano opened and closed his mouth, then opened it again. ‘I – of course. Of course. You’ve quite disarmed me, Mr Siun; I don’t think I’ve ever heard a provar able to enunciate the Terran language quite so perfectly before.’ His foul mood was temporarily forgotten, evaporated by his surprise.
Siun’s ears twitched again, and his outer eyelids closed: deep joy. ‘I am glad to hear you say that, Special Envoy. Certain surgical procedures have meant that I find it much easier to speak your language.’
There was a pause.
‘Shit,’ Charlotte Asha breathed, voicing what they were all thinking. Yano had never heard of a thing like it done. He was suddenly filled with a sense of melancholy, that this provar had had no choice but to have his resonating chambers chopped up just so that he could speak ugly, functional Terran. But before any of them could get too depressed about it, Siun continued.
‘What would you like me to do, Special Envoy?’ he asked. ‘I understand I’m to “keep out of trouble”, as you humans would say. My fellow Xhevegans are back at the Voscmark Hotel. We are on the floor above the kaygryn legation.’
Codey cleared his throat. ‘Mr Siun, we would be honoured if you would join us at the summit table as an observer.’
Siun bowed, having clearly anticipated the invitation. It was all a bit of diplomatic theatre. ‘It would be my pleasure. I express my deep thanks for your hospitality, to you and your President.’
