For Yoponek and his betrothed, the next five weeks were undoubtedly a dream come true. Thanks to the Agbui, the two Chiss—who had once worried about limited finances and resources during their wandering year—now had free passage, mostly free food, and final decisions on where their cultural nomad hosts traveled next.
For Haplif, those same five weeks were filled with careful observation, equally careful cultivation, and putting up with a lot of enthusiastic and nonsensical drivel from his guests.
It also brought his first real comprehension as to why he’d had such trouble penetrating the Ascendancy’s social and political structures.
Nine Ruling Families. Forty Great Families. Neither of those numbers was fixed, either—as recently as fifty years ago there had been ten ruling families, and at times throughout the historical record there had been as many as twelve and as few as three. Once, if Yoponek’s stories about the Stybla and the dawn of the Ascendancy were accurate, there had been only one.
The good news, at least for Haplif’s purposes, was that both Yoponek and Yomie were members of the Coduyo family, one of the Forty. The bad news was that neither of them had much knowledge of the current state of family politics. Haplif heard a great deal of gossip from them, plus a lot of history and historical anecdotes from Yoponek, and between them he was able to pull out a few important names. But there was never any hint that either of the travelers had the connections he needed to get a face-to-face with any of those names.
And connections were definitely needed. The Mitth and Obbic were allies, for example, with the Irizi and Ufsa aligned against them. The Chaf had a mild degree of opposition going with the Mitth, but weren’t particularly enthusiastic about the Irizi, either. The Dasklo and Clarr had their own rivalry going on in parallel with the others, while the Plikh and Boadil seemed to shift alliances as the need, the mood, or possibly just the current solar cycle required. And that didn’t even count the snarled social and political networks inside the Forty and between them and the Nine.
Plus there were the thousands of other families across the Ascendancy, some of which aspired to join the Forty, others of which were content to jockey for local power with other local families. Without contacts and an up-to-date mapping of the political landscape, there was no chance of getting anywhere.
It wasn’t just annoying, though it was certainly also that. The looming problem was that Jixtus’s timetable marked certain must-make tether points, and at the moment Haplif was on the edge of falling dangerously behind those goals. Shimkif, whose job was mainly to manage the ship and crew and who didn’t have to concern herself with all these cultural nuances, had already been on his case about it, and her reminders were getting more and more pointed.
And she was right. If Yoponek and Yomie didn’t come through soon with something useful, Haplif would have no choice but to cut the two Chiss loose and start over. That approach carried its own risks, not the least being that he might fall so far behind schedule he would never catch up. But at least then the Agbui could fly free again without having to cater to the travel whims of a couple of spoiled brats.
He had privately decided to give them two more days when the deadlock suddenly and unexpectedly broke.
“—and then old Yokado allegedly told Lakuviv to take a hyperspace leap straight back to Celwis,” Yoponek said, finishing yet another story with his usual flourish, nearly choking on his cromas nectar as he tried to drink, talk, and laugh at the same time. Yomie, sitting beside him, merely drained her own cup in silence. Clearly, she’d heard this one before. “It wasn’t the first time a Xodlak Councilor tried to get a Coduyo Patriarch to do what he wanted in front of witnesses,” Yoponek continued. “There are at least two other recorded instances in the past hundred fifty years. But even if it wasn’t the first, it was definitely the loudest.”
“I’m sure it was,” Haplif said, smiling perfunctorily, his mind racing across the tangle of names and connections Yoponek had just spread out in front of him. Celwis, a minor world in the grand scheme of things, but notable as a stronghold of the Xodlak family. Xodlak and Coduyo, two of the Forty who usually got along quite well together, both of whom had once been among the Ruling Families. Councilor Lakuviv, a local Xodlak official on Celwis who clearly had ambitions and frustrations and sounded like he might be open to someone offering relief on both counts.
It was the best entry point Haplif had seen yet. It might also be the best he was going to get. “Sounds like an interesting person,” he commented, taking the flask of nectar from the salon’s side table and topping off Yoponek’s cup.
“Yokado? I don’t think so.” Yoponek took a sip. “I mean, yes, he’s our Patriarch, but aside from that I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone call him interesting.”
“Not Yokado,” Haplif corrected, offering Yomie a refill. She shook her head, as he’d expected her to. “This Councilor Lakuviv. I don’t suppose you know him personally?”
“Me? Oh, no. Not at all.” Yoponek shook his head, as if his words hadn’t made it clear enough. “I’ve barely even heard his name. What makes you think he’s interesting?”
“A fiery spirit who directly and confidently pursues what he wants?” Haplif waved a hand in an all-encompassing gesture he’d picked up from his guests. “Such people are rare and priceless. Even without his position in the Xodlak family, that spirit alone would make him interesting.”
“Mm,” Yoponek said, taking a sip. “I suppose we can only guess about that.”
“Why can we only guess?” Haplif asked. “Why can’t we go meet him?”
Yoponek’s eyes widened. “What, you mean go to Celwis?”
“Why not?” Haplif countered. “We’ve already agreed he would be worth meeting and talking to. Our purpose in traveling the Chaos, after all, is to learn all we can about the cultures we meet. This Councilor Lakuviv would be well worth the journey.”
“I suppose,” Yoponek said, still sounding hesitant.
“Look at it this way,” Haplif urged. “You’re a student of history and historical figures. This Lakuviv—well, I have a strong sense he’s going to be one of the key figures to historians yet to come.” He lifted a finger. “Only you would get to see him now. You would get to see history as it’s being made.”
“I never thought of it like that,” Yoponek said, his eyes glowing a bit brighter. “History has always been something in the…well, of course it’s in the past. Basic definition. You never think about how you might actually be experiencing it.”
“But you’d be experiencing it after the Grand Migration on Shihon, right?” Yomie put in.
“That was the plan, certainly,” Haplif acknowledged. “However—”
“Was?” Yomie pounced on the word. “We talked about this. You agreed we would go to Shihon.”
“Of course we’re going,” Haplif hastened to assure her. “I was merely going to point out that we’re already at the eastern edge of the Ascendancy, and that Shihon is in the other direction and a good way past Csilla. If we went to Celwis first, perhaps spending a day or two with Councilor Lakuviv—if he permits it, of course—we could still get to Shihon in time for the migration.”
“For part of the migration,” Yomie corrected frostily. “We’d miss the first week. Maybe even more.”
“Yes, I suppose we would,” Haplif admitted. “But we weren’t intending to be there for all of it anyway.”
“We weren’t?” Yomie countered. “I was.”
“Yomie, the migration covers a whole month,” Yoponek soothed. “We can’t expect the Agbui to spend that much time watching us watch birds.”
“Why not?” Yomie shot back. “Haplif said they’d go anywhere we wanted. Besides, I thought they wanted to see everything in the Ascendancy, and birds are as interesting as anything else. Certainly as interesting as some Xodlak Councilor on a backward world.”
Yoponek gave Haplif a hooded look. “We don’t need to discuss this right now,” he said, setting down his cup. “It’s late. We should get ready for bed.”
Yomie looked at Haplif, a mix of challenge and stubbornness in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, her voice a little calmer. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Good night, Haplif.”
“Good night to you both,” Haplif said, stretching out his hand and brushing his fingertips across Yoponek’s temple and cheek as the boy stood up. “Sleep well, my friends.”
“You, too,” Yoponek said. He returned Haplif’s cheek-brushing gesture, then took Yomie’s hand and headed for the salon hatch.
They were nearly there when the hatch opened and Shimkif appeared. “Ah—there you are,” she said brightly, smiling at them. “I was hoping to wish you pleasant sleep before you retired to your rooms for the night.”
“We’re just heading there now,” Yoponek said.
“Well, good night, then,” Shimkif said. She held her hand up in farewell, her fingers drifting toward the side of Yomie’s head.
“Good night,” Yoponek said. Yomie just nodded, casually moving her head to the side just far enough to avoid Shimkif’s fingers as the two passed each other.
The two Chiss disappeared through the opening. Shimkif closed the hatch behind them and turned back toward Haplif, scowling. “She’s getting a little too good at that.”
“What, avoiding your touch?” Haplif asked, picking up the nectar bottle and a fresh cup. “I don’t think she’s doing it on purpose.”
“Of course she’s doing it on purpose,” Shimkif growled. “She doesn’t like being touched by strangers.”
“I know,” Haplif said, pouring her a drink. “I’d hoped that attitude might soften once she got to know us better. Apparently, it hasn’t. Maybe I should be offended that she still considers us strangers.”
“Joke all you like,” Shimkif said as she sat down in Yoponek’s vacated chair and took a long swallow of nectar. “If I were you, I’d worry more about the detrimental velvet-hold she has over Yoponek.”
“Well, they are betrothed to each other,” Haplif pointed out. “He probably likes it.”
“I meant detrimental to us.”
Haplif gave a little snort. “No argument there. You were listening, I assume?”
“And looking up whatever I could find on this Councilor Lakuviv. Unfortunately, the public access listings don’t have much beyond his name, family, and current position.”
“He’s a very small darter in a very big tide pool,” Haplif reminded her. “And his part of the pool is a long way away. Not surprised there isn’t much on him here.”
“I don’t disagree,” Shimkif said. “I’m just saying we don’t have much to go on.” She crinkled her forehead skin. “Unless you got something just then from Yoponek?”
“A little,” Haplif said. Sustained contact was always more effective for his readings, but even though Yoponek had accepted the supposed Agbui friendship touch Haplif knew better than to push that too far. “He wants to go to Celwis, and I think especially likes the idea of getting his name and face before an official of one of the Forty.”
“I thought he was already one of the Forty.”
“He is, but spreading out contacts to other families is important to these people,” Haplif said. “He’s also intrigued by the idea of being part of history.”
“Oh, he’s going to be part of history, all right,” Shimkif said darkly.
“Indeed he is,” Haplif agreed. “At the same time, he’s worried about Yomie. He doesn’t want to stand in her way, but I can’t tell whether he’s worried it’ll make her angry or simply doesn’t want to disappoint her.”
“Or both?”
“Could be,” Haplif agreed. “Emotional nuances are never easy to get in a pass-by. But his life-craving hasn’t changed.”
“Social position and recognition?”
“Yes,” Haplif said. “Which is perfect for getting us in to meet this Councilor Lakuviv.”
“Fine,” Shimkif said. “So how do we deal with the female?”
“You think she needs dealing with?”
“You don’t?”
“I’m just saying it could be dangerous.”
“No,” Shimkif said. “What’s dangerous is keeping her around.”
“Why, because she won’t let you touch her?”
“Because she’s playing games with us,” Shimkif said flatly. “She’s not just the smiling, innocent schoolgirl she pretends to be.”
“Of course not,” Haplif said sourly. “She’s an entitled, whiny brat. The problem is that Yoponek truly cares for her. If we push him too hard we could alienate both of them and end up starting over.”
“So let’s start over,” Shimkif said. “We could still go see Lakuviv.”
“Not without Yoponek to introduce us.” Haplif considered. “An enthusiastic Yoponek.”
“Making him enthusiastic is your job.”
“I know that,” Haplif said impatiently. Why was she giving him so much grief over this? Didn’t she think he knew what he was doing? “I’m just saying that as long as his loyalties are split between us and his betrothed, that’s going to be difficult.”
“I’ve already suggested getting rid of her.”
“Still not a good idea,” Haplif said. “Come on—you’ve had at least a little contact with her. What else can you suggest?”
Shimkif huffed out an annoyed breath. “Her life-cravings are wide-ranging travel followed by a long and balanced family. If you really think we need to keep her around, we might be able to do something with the latter.”
“Their full marriage is still down the road,” Haplif said. “I doubt we can get them to advance that timetable.”
“So we give her something sympathetic to relate to,” Shimkif said. “Specifically, you and I should be married.”
Haplif stared at her. “You’re not serious.”
“Not really married, of course,” Shimkif said quickly. “But think about it. With my daughter Frosif also being your daughter Frosif, we have the exact kind of balanced family Yomie wants.”
“Maybe,” Haplif said, thinking it through. “That would be fine for Yomie, but would it also work for Yoponek?”
“You already said he wants social position,” Shimkif reminded him. “Surely a family is also included in that craving. In fact, given how Chiss culture works, I’d say it was practically a given.”
“Good point,” Haplif said. “I’m constrained to remind you that we’ve been traveling for weeks now without giving them any hint that we were a family. How exactly do we cover that?”
“We don’t,” Shimkif said, smiling slyly. “We’re going to have a marriage ceremony right here aboard ship.”
Haplif felt his forehead skin crinkle. “What?”
“Think about it,” Shimkif urged. “A marriage ceremony puts us in the same position they plan to be in sometime in the next few months. That makes us emotionally sympathetic to them, and presumably vice versa.”
“Maybe,” Haplif said. To be honest, he wasn’t all that convinced it would do any good. Yomie’s life-cravings didn’t necessarily translate into empathy for a pair of aliens.
But Jixtus’s deadlines were looming, and it certainly couldn’t hurt. At the very least it might distract Yomie from her damn bird migration. “You can write something properly elaborate and bombastic?” he asked.
“Trust me,” Shimkif said. “There won’t be an untouched heart in the house. And really, how could our Chiss lovebirds resist the humble requests of two newly happily marrieds?”