Jade War

Lan’s remonstrative stare made Shae avert her eyes. “No,” he said, coldly enough to make her feel ashamed. “I’ve said that I support your decision, but I’m your older brother, and the Pillar, so that gives me enough extra life experience to tell you that no matter where you go, others will try to define you. Unless you define yourself.”

“I’m twenty-four years old, Lan,” Shae said. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” Lan said sadly. The waiter came to clear their dishes. A swollen orange moon was rippling in the narrow stretch of water that separated Euman Island from the skyline of Janloon, which Shae would soon watch fade from her airplane window and would not see again for two years. “Just try not to forget who you are,” her brother said.

* * *

While several countries mark the end of the Many Nations War (Victory Day in Espenia, War’s End Day in Tun, Liberation Day in the Uwiwa Islands, to name a few), Kekon’s national holiday commemorates the defeat of Shotarian occupation forces on the island and restoration of the country’s sovereignty fifty-two days prior to the signing of the international armistice. The official name of the holiday, Triumph of the Nation’s Heroes Over Foreign Oppression, is rarely used on account of its unwieldiness; it is referred to simply as Heroes Day.

As a child, Hilo had enjoyed Heroes Day, because in addition to being a day of patriotism, it was a celebration of Green Bone culture. Kaul Du Academy and Wie Lon Temple School opened their doors and put on public demonstrations of the jade disciplines. Movie theaters played a marathon of the adventure films about Baijen, the legendary Green Bone warrior. Veterans like his grandfather and late father were praised and honored. In the evening, there was a parade and fireworks. Afterward, Hilo went to sleep smiling, feeling like a prince.

As Pillar of the clan, he dreaded Heroes Day, and more so this year than any other. He was expected to make numerous public appearances and graciously accept the respect-paying of countless people while maintaining an appropriate solemnity out of memory for those slain in Kekon’s struggle for freedom. This year, he expected the holiday would be underscored with the tension of current anti-foreigner sentiment and would make the scandal over Shae’s past all the worse for No Peak. No wonder his sister was staying at home and not making any appearances today. She claimed to be feeling unwell, but he wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d simply said that she’d rather skip the shitshow and the inevitability of having to see Ayt Mada’s smug face.

“Forget the garbage Ayt and the newspapers are spewing,” Hilo had told her. “You have to get Ship Street under control. Hami was in the room with the men who came to see me. He didn’t speak against you, but he didn’t stand up for you either. That’s not good, Shae.”

His sister seemed pale and much quieter than usual. “I’ll handle it,” she said.

“If your people are behind you, it doesn’t matter what any of those other fuckers think, but they have to be behind you.”

“I said I’ll handle it,” Shae repeated. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Hilo had no intention of caving to pressure from inside or outside of the clan, but what if things got so bad that Shae no longer had the credibility to run the business side of No Peak? He didn’t want to contemplate the possibility of having to remove his sister from her post; he was certain that was exactly what Ayt Mada was hoping for. Three years ago, the Mountain had tried to weaken Lan’s position by targeting Hilo for assassination; now they were doing the same to him, undermining him by going after Shae.

Hilo went on the offense. Ten-year-old Koben Ato had recently fallen ill for a week from a potent stomach virus, a fact that was known only because the boy had begun his training at Wie Lon School as something of a minor celebrity. When questioned by the press about Shae’s past, Hilo answered that the outrage ought to be focused instead on the more serious past misdeeds of clan leaders who were known for killing their own relatives. Hilo hoped out loud that Ayt’s nephew’s illness was nothing more sinister; perhaps the Koben family ought to be worried about the child meeting as untimely a fate as his father.