***Tirnanog, Mount Aerie***
***Magnus***
Etan watched the door close behind the women. Then he sighed and rubbed his face before he gave me a disgruntled look and began sharing his troubles with me. “A lot of stuff happened while you were gone and I figure you would like an update. It's like this, the Council is currently split into two factions...”
He gave me a short rehash about Clan Aerie being essentially a republic of councils. Each council member had a vote, and as long as the whole had more than fifty per cent agreement on a topic, a decision would be implemented and enforced by the whole clan.
Only that the council representatives, the elders, weren't truly voted on to claim their positions. They had taken power by being the strongest, oldest, and most revered personages of their respective stratas.
In other words, they had to belong to an influential family.
Many people from Earth, like myself, would probably be drawn towards thinking that this led to a corrupt system of egomaniacs. Like Earth’s rulers of old, the leading families would slowly degenerate into incompetence, even if their ancestors might’ve taken their position through hard work and sacrifices.
But if Etan was anything to go by, then there was a fundamental difference between expectation and fact in Aerie’s rulership.
Every time I had met my new father in law, I had to remind myself that these people were decades, if not centuries older than I. They hadn’t stayed in a position of power because they were weak or foolish.
No. Instead, they had used their wealth of life experience to build upon what they had and become smarter, stronger and more cunning than blue bloods of old could ever hope to be.So their governing system had a strong component which could be unashamedly called aristocratic but was countered by the near-immortality these people had access to.
The Council had thirty seats. Two for the leading, paired representatives of each strata.
Though, it had to be mentioned there was an unspoken rule of paired couples voting in favour of each other. Doing so showed a strata's unity. For a couple, the leaders of an entire strata, to vote against each other would imply indecision and weakness within the strata.
This meant the council could be reduced to fifteen seats for simplicity sake by taking only the leading families into account.
It also meant an undecided vote was extremely unlikely to occur with half of the elders for and the other half against a topic. Unless one or more stratas withheld their vote. Which was the problem in this case.
The Moras, Llyods, and Rumens, leading the 13th, 14th and 15th stratas withheld their vote in regards to declaring war on the Thich.
In favour of retaliation were Frosts, Tates, Smyths, Torres, Kline, and Walsh.
Voting against war were Halls, Whites, Blares, Ortegas, Patels and Briens.
It was a stalemate from a voting point of view.
“... meaning that we can't expect the clan to move unless we manage to sway someone’s position,” Etan finished his explanation of clan politics.
I leaned back in my chair. “Is there a particular reason as for why the three most influential stratas are holding back?”
Etan twiddled his thumbs and stared into the middle distance while he thought things over. “The Rumens and Lloyds are deeply tied to all the lesser stratas and are known to hold back with heavily polarizing decisions. One could say they have their hands in the stews of both factions, pro and contra war. Especially the Rumens won't risk alienating even the weakest strata, as they currently hold the council's board position. There are arguments to be made that the Lloyds might be more deserving of being ranked 15th, which would result in Rumens' demotion to 14th. The Rumens won't risk anything that would have someone call for a re-evaluation of their position.”
Right, a strata's ranking was purely based on their merit to the clan. Astra explained that some time ago, but I had forgotten it. I twiddled my thumbs while I tried to understand the situation.
I was grateful that Etan was willing to tell me all this. If I had been in his position, I wasn't sure whether I would share this information with a stranger. No matter whether he was a son in law or not.
“As for the Moras...” Etan sighed and gave me a meaningful look. “Their policy normally followed ours very closely. Conveniently, they had no reason to play nice with anyone.”
My new father in law practically droned out his next words. “Buuut since a certain person snatched away Astra from their favoured son, I am surprised they simply withheld their vote and allowed the matter to stay pending, instead of forcing a decision.”
“Would that be bad?” I asked.
“If it is a matter that affects the whole clan, policy decisions can be voted upon only once a year,” Etan explained solemnly. “This is to ensure nobody can simply request vote after vote until they achieve the desired outcome.”
“On the matter of going to war, the vote will remain on hold for as long as there is no definitive decision for or against?” I clarified. “Why was a vote even called when the outcome was in doubt? Was a likely stalemate or a negative outcome not foreseeable? You mentioned some people would be against war even before you brought the Thich's machinations to your people's attention.”
This was bad. If the vote ended in the negative, mobilizing clan Aerie's forces would be delayed for a whole year at least. Which meant another year until I could rescue my remaining sister.
I wasn’t in a position to blame anyone, but wasn’t it a politician’s job to anticipate such things?
“I wouldn’t have called the vote right away, but Annie Kline got impatient. She is out for blood. The good news is that things are unlikely to change in the near future,” Etan pointed out a glimmer of hope. “The clans which are with us in the pro-war camp won't jump ship. All of them have good reason to hate the Thich down to the bone. And as much as I dislike to say it, Michaela Kline's death during the attack on the recruitment delegation was a good thing politically. Her grandmother Annie Kline doted on that child. It brought the Klines firmly to our side, even if Annie went a little too far at the meeting two days ago. Blinded by her grief, she didn’t talk to anyone, believing the vote to be in her favour no matter what.
“The Rumens and Lloyds are also unlikely to change their positions. And as long as we don't piss off the Moras further, they may be inclined to leave the status quo as it is. Kyra and Alex Mora may be a little hotheaded, but they aren't stupid. Their decision to tie the vote was likely made to put thumbscrews on us while gaining the necessary time to evaluate the situation. Just in case a war might be necessary after all.”
“Hmm.” I drummed my finger onto my armrest. “I have no other choice but to defer to your experience in this matter. You know all those people better than I do. As far as I understand, our best way to sway the vote in our favour would be to flip one of the naysayers. You listed the Patels in the peace camp. Can we use their poaching operation against them?”
Etan showed me his open palms and spread his fingers wide. “Who is to know? You just came to me with this matter. Though, I must say I find your tendency to run across such matters uncanny. I will assign some of my best people to investigate. No matter the outcome, the mere possibility of one of our administrators selling information on hunting schedules is worrying.”
His expression turned more serious until I got the vibe of murder in his eyes.
With it, my neck tingled and I couldn't help but sit up straight in my chair so that I could get to my feet more easily – just in case. “You act as if there is more than worldly wealth involved.”
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Etan narrowed his eyes at me. “Let's hope material gain and greed were the only motivations for selling out those hunting schedules. Unfortunately, knowing when and where our hunters are supposed to be serves not only to avoid them but also to... purposefully encounter them.”
It wasn't hard to understand where he was going from there. Two things came to mind. “I understand. Assassinations to get rid of uncomfortable people. Targeted attacks to loot the bodies for valuable equipment. Like those very valuable family heirlooms.”
I knocked onto the chest plate of my armour.
Etan raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for reminding me about talking to Astra. She could've at least asked before requisitioning my great grandpa's armour set.”
Oh, boy!
I winced and inclined my head. “Thank you for lending it to me.”
Etan waved the matter away. “Astra will take you tomorrow on a round trip to all stratas. I suggest you pay very good attention. If the investigation in the poaching matter comes to fruition, I might task you with retribution against the Patels. After all, I promised to test your worth and this might be just the right task.”
He made eye contact with me. “I would be very disappointed if you failed.”
I forced myself to smile confidently. “I won't fail, given the right resources.”
What was he gonna do? Kill me and deprive Astra of her partner for eternity?
Guessing my thoughts correctly, Etan leaned forward. “Believe me, boy. There are things worse than death in this world. And I have access to a few of the nastier solutions.”
“Okay...” I replied slowly, having no desire to allow the conversation to slide even deeper into problem territory.
How had we ended up going down the concerned-papa-route? Our strategizing had felt almost like a bonding experience between a dad and his new son in law. The conversation was going so well until I mentioned the armour and things had gone downhill from there. Yeah... meaning it was probably my fault.
How should I have known this beetle shell had sentimental value? Thanks, Astra!
“Can I go now?” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the door behind me and decided to be blunt. “Right now, it feels like I overstayed my welcome… and I still have to return this fine armour of yours to the armoury.”
Etan scoffed. “You are dismissed.”
I got up, made sure that the visitor's chair was perfectly aligned with the table, just as I had found it, and quickly retreated from Etan's office. Every time I had dealt with Etan so far, he had managed to make the hairs on my neck stand up and I hadn’t yet found a way to deal with him. The last thing I wanted right now was a fight with Astra’s parents.
Just as promised, I went directly to the armoury where I returned most of my equipment to 'Uncle Sullivan Weaponmaster Extradioniare'. Not my words, Astra had introduced him as such.
Of course, Sullivan had to prove his title by coming down on me as soon as I handed over my spetum.
“What the fuck did you do to it!?” Sullivan exclaimed while he inspected the broken blade which I had 'sharpened' back to a point. “It looks like someone used it as a mining tool!”
“It isn't that bad!” I dared to defend my masterful piece of field maintenance. “Better than running around with a broken tip. I would like to see you do a better job with nothing but a file and a whetstone.”
“Broken tip?” Sullivan looked at me aghast. “How did you break off the tip? And the side blade! That was sturdy work. Not fanciful by any means, but practical.”
“Used it as a jumping pole on a changeling matriarch,” I explained. “Did you know that the things have really tough bones?”
Sullivan gave me a forced, somewhat crooked smile. “I will see what can be done about repairing the weapon, but I believe it would be best to reforge the entire thing. Hopefully, you aren’t too attached.”
I studied the spetum in Sullivan’s hands. Somehow the weapon master knew I had taken a liking to it. But, at the same time, I wasn’t vain enough to see it as anything else than a tool. A beloved tool, but a tool nonetheless.
“I admit I would prefer keeping it, but I also think I am outgrowing it. The smith back at the Old Camp fashioned it to my weight and abilities from back then. Honestly, I don’t believe it would have broken if my strength hadn’t increased over the last few months.” I shrugged. “First and foremost, I need a weapon that won’t break when I use it to the fullest of my abilities. If it is reforged the same way it was, it may break again.”
Sullivan raised an eyebrow. “So your little trip brought you back more powerful?”
“Yes and no,” I admitted. “The spetum would have become an issue sooner or later.”
Sullivan nodded. “I will talk to a smith of my choice. He will have to take your measurements to reforge the weapon correctly.”
“Just tell me when and where once you know the details.”
I took my leave and returned to Astra’s, and now my, private quarters where I waited for my wife’s return. To spend the time at least somewhat productively, I took out the core I had found during the trip and turned it in my hands. Then I got myself one of the books which Astra had brought me for study. It was a summary of the different cores and their financial value.
As expected, there was nothing to be found about their function. Just as Astra had said. At least the Aerie didn’t know how to make the cores work apart from recycling them for the metal.
The people of this world called them cores, but to me, this weirdly formed piece of metal seemed like some form of biomechanical membrane- or a diaphragm pump. I took a pencil and used it to rudimentarily explore the core’s inner dimensions, which confirmed my suspicions. There was even something in between the core's two chambers which could be pushed from side to side. There was no doubt it was a pump. A pump which functioned as a heart!
The question was, how was it possible for something like this to grow inside a supposedly natural animal?
It may be shaped like an organ, but it wasn’t one.
I couldn’t claim to have any medical or biological background but to find something like this inside a creature that followed an evolutionary path seemed… unbelievable. Or was I too narrow-minded? Was the inclusion of ‘natural’ biomechanics a necessary step for life to evolve in this world?
At least I hadn’t found any cores in roughly horse-sized animals, and I had hunted quite a lot of them so far. Had the formation of cores something to do with size?
My strength mutations almost made me forget, but Tirnanog had substantially higher gravity than Earth. One limiting factor for a creature’s size was the ability to pump blood through its body. Was it possible for these cores to be the Tirnanog’s natural solution to the problem?
I doubted it.
But if I rejected these cores to be natural, then wasn’t the conclusion that Tirnanog’s fauna, and maybe the flora too, were unnatural?
I was still hung up this thought when I heard the door to the living quarters open.
A glance with my Second Sight assured me through the walls that it was Astra. As long as there wasn’t too much matter to interfere, the compartmentation of her quarters didn’t obstruct this extraordinary sense. Over months, I had also learned to identify her ‘energy signature’, for the lack of a better term.
I dropped the core when I noticed that she was limping and went into the entrance corridor to meet her.
“Astra!” I couldn’t help but proclaim my dismay when I saw her state.
She looked like someone had beaten her badly and then patched her up. Her armour was gone and she had formed her filaments into what looked like a baggy robe. As I knew her, it was to hide the state she was in.
I quickly went to her side to make sure she wouldn’t fall. “Who did that to you!?” My next reaction was to feel anger at whoever had dared to touch my mate.
“Hold your molerats, mate,” Astra gave me a peck on the cheek and grinned. “I am fine.”
“You don’t look fine!” I exclaimed. “Did someone try to cut your throat?” Touching her chin, I gingerly turned her face to inspect the cut on her cheek. It had been given first aid with some sort of medical sticky tape, but I could still see what must have been a nasty knife cut.
Astra rolled her eyes. “It will be fine, believe me. It looks worse than it is!” She pulled at her cheek. “There, just a superficial cut. It just bled like a bitch is all.”
I grumbled, remembering our healing mutation. Compared to when I had my chest laid bare, this wasn’t something to complain about. “Still.”
“I had a small argument with my mother,” Astra confessed finally. “She thought it fitting to remind me of my mortality and stupidity. Hunting a mindflayer wasn’t what she had imagined when she allowed me to take you out on a honeymoon tour.”
I blinked, suddenly feeling remorse. “But it was my idea to go after the thing.”
Astra touched my chest. “And I should have said no. Mother is right in at least one thing. If we wanted a mindflayer mutation, we could have always used the family’s influence to send out a hunting party. The strata could have sent fifty or even a hundred hunters. The same goes for anything else we might require. It’s not like we are lacking funds. There is no need for us taking such risks other than pride.”
Then she grinned. “But I at least managed to touch her a few times during our spar. That’s something I never accomplished before!”
I swallowed. “You are proud about managing to touch her?”
“Of course!” Astra’s smile faded a little when she realized I wasn’t really on board with her giddiness. “Aw, shucks, I guess you wouldn’t know how powerful my parents are. You have never seen them fight.”
“Powerful enough to beat you up without you being able to retaliate,” I theorized from what I had learned. Which meant, Astra’s parents would be able to beat me up too. I had no illusions about Astra being that much weaker than myself. “What’s their ability anyway? I’ve never seen them use their filaments, other than that one time at the council when Etan flashed his in front of that Mora guy’s face.”
“Oh, they have several powerful ones,” Astra got going. “But their best one is the ability to put their filaments under so much tension that they can snap out at you like the broken cable of a heavily loaded mining trolley. There have been incidents in which people have been cut in half.”
I winced.
What Astra described sounded like what I heard of rope accidents during shipping. “I see. They have all their filaments under tension and on standby to snap them out at any target coming too close.” If they have improved reflexes and something like our prediction ability, they would be pretty much untouchable by anything which can’t tank or outright ignore their attacks.
“You got the gist of it,” Astra confirmed. “But don’t worry, everything is fine between Mom and me. She was always a harsh teacher, but she does it because she cares.”
“Now...” She bit her lower lip and unwove the filaments forming the robe around her body. Which meant she was suddenly standing in her birthday suit in front of me. “Can you imagine what I want now that we are alone? I had to hold back for three nights because of Ginevra.”
I tried to stop her in a valiant attempt to hold back for a few more nights. “Ahem, it wouldn’t be a problem to hold back for a few days until you are better-”
“Days!? Because of a small cut? Did you lose your marbles?” Astra shrieked and dropped to her knees in front of me, pulling down my pants.
“Astraah…” My feeble attempt at chivalry was quickly forgotten when my brain short-circuited because of what she did next.
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