“I assume we have none of this on the ship?”

  “I don’t recall seeing it in the inventories. We should supply the entire crew, especially the other Hokkis.”

  Joseph sighed.

  “This will be a challenge, Hamilton. We have one manufacturer in the Kingdom since the Carriers left. His prices are unreasonable, and his tribe has become most political.”

  “Does he belong to the Alliance?”

  “No. He is an isolationist. We have tried to keep him at a distance until after the Alliance is formalized and made public.”

  “I can surmise the rest, Joseph. His company did extensive business with the Chancellors before the Fall. He considered their departure a betrayal and vowed never to depend upon outside influences again.”

  “Indeed, Hamilton.”

  “It happened on many planets when their economies collapsed. I’ll bet he also holds the production rights to Genysen as well.”

  “He does. The government pays him vast subsidies to keep production strong.”

  “And no one considers this obscene?”

  “Everyone does, Hamilton, but we must keep tribal peace.”

  “What is Genysen?” Cando asked. “Something else we need to buy?”

  “Perhaps, but we can discuss it later. I’ll need to know more about your medical history. Joseph, do you have contacts who can ease our path into purchasing Henalaan?”

  Kara opened her eyes, feeling a touch better, when a new voice entered the fray.

  “I’ll be your man for that job.”

  Everyone turned. A huge white man with a bedraggled beard and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat swaggered into Kara’s field of vision.

  “There you are,” Joseph said. “Your timing is perfect, as always. Might I introduce Hemric, my master rancher. I believe you and Hamilton are well acquainted.”

  “It’s been a long time,” Ham said as the two men shook.

  Kara remembered what Joseph said earlier:

  If one must look up, you must have a Chancellor caught in your eye.

  Hemric bested Ham by at least three inches and towered over Joseph. His carried the worn, leathery features of a man who spent a hard-working life under a difficult sun. She thought he seemed much older than Ham, who said they entered the Guard together.

  “I’m sorry I missed luncheon, Joseph,” Hemric said. “My business became a bit entangled.”

  “Understood, old friend. Did you make progress?”

  “I tracked down Pinckney. He fed me some insight into the issue with Adobo and the Restives.”

  “Excellent. We will discuss at length at a later time. For now, I will leave you to catch up with your old friend and his team. Kara, how do you feel?”

  “Better. If I stand up, I’ll probably tip over. But better.”

  “Excellent. We want you at full strength for dinner.”

  What did he say before? Ribs? Shit.

  Joseph disappeared inside, leaving Hemric to greet two Talons and a sick Hokki. Hemric eyed the closest door suspiciously before lowering his voice a notch.

  “I love Joseph like a father, but sometimes it is best to maneuver carefully around him.”

  “I don’t take your meaning,” Ham said.

  “I could have been here for luncheon, but I stayed in my cottage and ate a sandwich. Joseph prefers to be the center of attention when guests arrive. His arms are wide open, and the rest of us line up where we’re told. He did not forbid me from luncheon, but he never invited me, either. It’s his way. He would have been threatened by my presence, given our past association.”

  “Leaving you alone with us now suggests what?”

  “The welcoming ceremonies are over. We can proceed with business, to an extent.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I speak for myself, not for Joseph. The questions you have for him must be addressed when he’s ready. Perhaps later this afternoon, or after dinner. Which, by the way, I’ll be free to attend.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll all be there,” Cando said, turning to Kara. “And you don’t have to eat those ribs if you’re still unsettled.”

  “She won’t be,” Hemric said. “Henalaan will make her steady as the plateau. And not eating would be considered an insult. Trust me. You have nothing to worry about. That meat will fall off the bone. I have seen five-year-olds clean two plates of those ribs. If I knew the day and time of my death, I would request a final meal of ribs in soobu. Then I would go in peace.”

  “Easy to say,” Ham told him. “I had not eaten red meat in ten years, and the boulimapp was a challenge.”

  “Yes. A curious choice to serve boulimapp to off-worlders. I suspect luncheon was a test. Nothing happens in this house without intent. Don’t misunderstand: Joseph would never harm a guest. But like anyone with great influence, he is touched with paranoia. You are strangers who come to him on a dangerous quest. If not for the trust he and I share, he never would have seen you. I heard the last part of your conversation, about Genysen. You must understand, tribal peace has always been fragile. Joseph does his best to walk a fine line with his political rivals and factions within the Alliance.”

  “Your message to him before he left … those names you mentioned. Political issues? Tribal?”

  “One never exists without the other. Francois Adobo is our chief rival within the Alliance. He is wealthier than Joseph by half. He is the Kingdom’s chief manufacturer for small arms and military-grade rifles. He supplies to regional police and tribal militias. His business has grown a thousand fold since the Carriers left. John Pinckney is my primary source inside the Restives, a tribal faction looking to expand the Kingdom’s sphere of influence through the African quadrant.”

  “In other words,” Ham said, “enemy to the isolationists.”

  “We don’t use that word, Hamilton. We call them rivals. Enemy is a go-word for a fight.”

  “How much fighting have you seen since the Fall?”

  “A few pockets, mostly riots or revenge killings. Nothing like it used to be when we served.”

  Kara tried sitting up. To her surprise, she didn’t need to fall back.

  “You were down here together? Did you fight these people?”

  Both Chancellors hesitated, but Ham did the heavy lifting.

  “We served brief tours. Only a drop or two together. At the time, tribal warfare could become quite bloody. Soldiers of the Guard were tasked with quelling the violence. We slaughtered anyone who refused to lay down their arms. They had no chance against us, and no one questioned our tactics. I’ve no idea how many Zwahilis I killed. I barely recall the drops.”

  It was the most she ever heard him confess of his Guard past.

  “The only reason Hamilton is here now,” Hemric said, “is because he’s a nativist like me. It wasn’t easy convincing Joseph that Hamilton bears no allegiance to the Chancellory. I left the Guard when I was fifteen. I have four children and a grandchild on the way. I am Zwahili in every sense but my skin color. Hamilton served much longer. Joseph trusts my judgment, but this was not an easy decision for him. Keep that in mind as we move forward.”

  After an awkward moment, Cando said:

  “So, it appears we’ve walked into a complex drama. I don’t know about politics or tribes, but I keep an open eye in the back of my head. Just how much danger do we face, Hemric?”

  “As I told Hamilton in our negotiations, the ranch is a safe place, so long as our rivals do not suspect Joseph of collaborating with outsiders.” He reached inside his jacket and grabbed a tablet. “I was on my way back from Mumbassa when you arrived, but I monitored air traffic control and the ranch security drones. Your Scramjet never appeared, which means the stealth net worked. If word escapes of your presence, it will have to come from within.”

  “The ranch? You mean, there could be a traitor?”

  “He wouldn’t think of himself that way. Joseph will speak more to this, but it is fair to say the Splinter effect has created uncertainty, even within families. I would not be too concerned. To be honest, the risk of exposure will heighten if we attempt to purchase large quantities of Henalaan and Genysen. Only off-worlders require the one-two punch.”

  “Let’s go back to Genysen,” Leto said. “Captain, you shut down that topic before Joseph left. Why?”

  Ham grinned.

  “Caught that, did you? Very perceptive. I didn’t want anyone to let slip the wrong thing about your and Cando’s background. Genysen is a Chancellor drug, invented in the first century of colonization. It’s given as a vaccine to every newborn on thirty-nine worlds, though it goes by different names. Genysen was the Chancellor brand.”

  “What does it do?”

  “It creates complex antibodies against more than a million airborne viruses and their variants. The first attempts to colonize were a disaster. Human immune systems could not adapt fast enough to alien environments. Chancellor scientists created a biological firewall. It was a major breakthrough in genetic engineering. It doesn’t protect humans from everything – we can still die of certain cancers and our bodies can fail on their own – but we can breathe the air anywhere without a mask. It increased longevity and lessened infant mortality. Humanity has grown by twenty-five billion people in about nine hundred years. So, it’s an amazing vaccine. But in the Kingdom, it appears one man is profiteering off the vaccinations of newborns.”

  Hemric shook his head.

  “Zwahilis will accept a certain amount of corruption if it protects the lives of their children.”

  “I think this must be the same on every world,” Kara said. “Families like mine profited from our island’s monopoly over the food supply. People like my parents knowingly poisoned arable land to force Hokkis to eat from their so-called generosity.”

  Saying it out loud sickened Kara, but the more distance she put between herself and the truth gave her a cleaner perspective and an understanding of why she had to see this mission through.

  Hemric said, “I’m sorry, Kara. But you are right about the larger concern. Listen to me, all of you. There are many reasons why this Alliance engenders support. Greed, for certain. The hypnotic spell of the Splinter, without doubt. It allowed the Inventor to spread his message. But there is also a growing sense of justice, that maybe it will open roads of opportunity never available to colonials under the Chancellory’s rule. You will find this to be Joseph’s position.

  “However, it is for all these reasons that the Alliance will be opposed when it is finalized. Isolationists and men like Francois Adobo will be more than a simple headache. You are here because Joseph does not want the Alliance compromised. If there is a problem with Amayas Knight or the Splinters, he wants to know before it undermines his plans. That is all I can say on the matter. The rest, I leave to him. As for the drugs, I will return to my contacts and see how I can facilitate their purchase.”

  “Take care,” Ham said, “as I’m sure you will. If we can’t secure them here, we can jump to any number of worlds where I have nativist contacts.”

  “Understood. I should head inside and report my latest intel to Joseph. I’ll try to get a bead on when he’ll be ready to sit down and hear you out. Fair enough?”

  “It is. Thank you for everything.”

  “Until then, you have free reign. There are many beautiful places to walk.” He noted Kara. “If you’re up to it, of course. You can also spend time with the Mogandis. Trust me, they will fill the afternoon with stories. And then a few more, if you’d like. They are genuinely wonderful if not colorful human beings.”

  After Hemric left, Leto leaned in to the team.

  “In short: Listen, smile, and choose your words wisely. We’re on the clock.”

  No one disagreed.

  7

  T HE FLAMES RELEASED EMBERS above the stone pit from which the Mogandis grilled and basted huge racks of beef. As the sun set and the meat was consumed, the family and their four guests tossed clean ribs into the fire, which was meant to burn all night. Kara wiped sauce from her chin as she threw in her last ribs with reluctance. They were better than promised, a revelation she never saw coming.

  It made no sense. Kara spent the afternoon repulsed by the odor of a burning carcass carried on a brisk wind. She expected to limit her dining to a plate of greens resembling sweet sea cabbage from home and small gray vegetables call cha, which mimicked white potatoes. Cando talked her into trying a morsel of beef pulled from a rib and dipped in extra soobu sauce. Don’t insult the host, he insisted.

  She played along. The meat was more tender than Kohlna, sweeter and tangier than F’heldabeast, and each bite called out for more.

  “I recognize that smile,” Cando said. “Your taste buds know a miracle when they’ve found it.”

  “There’s not a single taste here I’ve ever experienced.”

  “Not even the spices?”

  “We don’t eat like this. Almost everything is boiled, steamed, or sauteed. This is … I don’t know the word.”

  “Try primal. I traveled to fifteen planets on the other side, and only two did not eat beef. Strangely enough, the Swarm crushed those two the worst. Coincidence?”

  “I always thought slaughtering livestock was savage.”

  “Their meat is red. Yours is white. Their meat walks. Yours swims. It’s nice to live at the top of the food chain. Yes?”

  She didn’t argue. At least for now – hoping she wouldn’t pay for this in the morning – Kara felt gastronomic bliss. She ate ten ribs.

  Tables were set out on a patio near the pit, but no one used them for sitting. Zwahilis called it a High Grill, in which they travelled between serving stations then walked and talked as they ate in small portions. They hung bibs over their chest and carried hand-sized dishes. For digestive health, she heard. To encourage revelry during dinner, another said. No one knows why, a young Mogandi added. It extended the meal and encouraged more trips to the stations.

  Kara thought the format as much fun as it was impractical.

  As darkness fell, the Mogandi women and girls cleaned while the men stood around the pit drinking sween and sharing reflections on the day. Their eyes glowed like fiery stars. Ham and Cando engaged the nephews who greeted the Scylla’s team on horseback. Leto said nothing, but she assumed he was listening for clues.

  Kara saw Joseph’s wife Beatrice wiping down a table from her wheelchair and wanted to help. Yet she dared not violate a rule made absolute in the hour before dinner:

  “You are our guest,” Joseph told her. “You are not to lift a finger to assist. My dear wife and sister will be most ill if you do.”

  Would they? Kara wasn’t so sure.

  So she stared into the pit, where bones would reduce to ash by morning, and had little sense of time’s passage. Soon, she felt a close, uneasy presence and looked over her shoulder to see two glowing eyes staring back at her. She recognized the boy but struggled with his name. He’d shown Kara to her guest room.

  “Hello,” she said with hesitation. “Is it … Maxwell?”

  He drank from a bottle of sween and took half a step backward. Did she scare him? Please, tell me I didn’t get the name wrong.

  “I enjoyed those ribs. They were brilliant. I … um … did you want to say something? I could use someone to talk to.”

  This time, he took a step forward, his eyes shifting to his older relatives, all of whom were oblivious. She took his cue and closed their distance. Kara felt relieved: Yes, this was Maxwell.

  He was taller by a few inches but lean.

  “You are Joseph’s grandson?”

  “Yes. The oldest. I am eighteen.”

  “I talked to many in your family today. Everyone is very kind. I heard amazing stories about the Mogandi tree.”

  “We go back to Africa, before the migration.”

  “I heard. Your roots can be traced to a territory called Kenya.”

  “What about your family on Hokkaido?”

  “My ancestors were Korean, but our tree does not extend so far. It’s a complicated story.”

  He finished the sween without taking his eyes off her. She saw neither curiosity nor generosity in the flames. Only suspicion.

  “It is important to know who you are and where you have been. Why have you come this far, Kara Syung?”

  “I have important business with your grandfather.”

  “This is no place for you. The men will conduct the business. You should not have come.” He looked around in a panic, as if he’d made a grievous error and hoped no one noticed. “I am sorry. I must go.”

  She did not try to stop him. Maxwell set his empty bottle on a table and retreated into the shadows.

  What was that about?

  Another presence neared, but his commanding voice preceded him.

  “I hope my grandson did not frighten you, Kara,” Joseph said. “Like all young men, he seeks to find his place. He is more awkward than most, but this is his way.”

  “What way is that?”

  Joseph ignored the question and looked to the sky.

  “Walk with me.”

  She did, looking back to catch Cando’s curious eyes. Joseph led her away from the pit and the main house.

  “Did you have a fine meal, Kara?”

  “Better than fine, thank you.”

  He pointed upward.

  “Tell me, do you know which star heats Hokkaido?”

  The night sky was spectacular. The Rimius Nebula, a green and blue spectacle born in the closest system, dominated a fourth of the star field. Kara studied the celestial map when they arrived in the Zwahili system.

  “It’s only visible from your southern hemisphere.”

  “If you saw it now, would it make you homesick?”

  “It might remind me why I came so far.”

  “Interesting. That light, as with these many stars, was created long before you were born. A different time, when an empire spread across the galaxy and city-ships hovered above the colonies like the havens of gods. The Sol system is hidden by the nebula. We have never been able to see Earth’s sun, though its third planet is the place from which we are all descended. I think it is best we are not reminded. The resentment still runs through our blood.”