Glory's People (6 page)

Minamoto-sama’s face was crisscrossed with the web of fine lines to be expected in the visage of a man nearly a hundred Earth-standard years old. But the eyes were brilliant and alert and the hands, exposed within the deep sleeves of the ornate imperial kimono, were lean and strong.

“Welcome to my garden, Honored Syndics,” Minamoto no Kami said. “We will drink tea together and meditate on the blessings of peace … “ His black eyes seemed to pierce Duncan like obsidian blades. “Then,” the Shogun said, “we will speak of other things.”

The tea ceremony was long and intricate. Duncan found it calming. How traditional was the ceremony as conducted on Planet Yamato? Duncan wondered. Japan was eleven light-years distant.

The Starmen watched the old daimyo brew the green tea, whip it to a steaming froth with the bamboo tea brush, then pour it into the beautiful bowls, handing first one to Anya Amaya, then another to Duncan Kr.

It was to the Sailing Master that Minamoto no Kami addressed his most cordial conversation. Anya had studied the accounts of Yamatan customs found in
Glory
's database: On Planet Yamato women could be purchased. All colonies valued women, most for their reproductive function--but that was far from the only reason. No colony of Earth could afford to disdain women and their founding function on the colony worlds. Despite all the eugenic experimentation indulged in since the Jihad, the woman remained the keeper of humankind’s future--in space or on the worlds of Near Space. On Yamato, the ancient art of the geisha lived on.

Kantaro-san’s comment about Minamoto no Kami’s susceptibility to women seemed true enough. Anya had that effect on men. The Shogun’s admiration was open. Anya hoped that the Shogun would make no bid to “buy her contract,” as the Yamatan phrase went.

Glory
's syndicate had bought Anya Amaya, because it was the way of doing things on New Earth. But Anya was no longer for sale. A Goldenwing syndicate might buy a woman, but it would never sell one.

The skull-socket of a Starman bestows certain responsibilities
, Duncan Kr thought sardonically,
else I might have sold myself to the Elmi of Voerster
.

When the tea drinking was done, Minamoto cleansed the containers and placed them gently and reverently in the alcove where they rested next to an arrangement of bamboo fronds--cut carefully from the descendants of Terrestrial plants. Where does one world end and its descendant begin? Duncan wondered. If we defend a world do we defend our history?

The delicate, segmented stalks of bamboo were displayed in a slender ceramic vase that might have been created to hold them. The blue-and-russet glaze seemed to glow from within with a light of its own. Like-much that Duncan had seen on Yamato, the vase was simple and beautiful. Was Yamatan engineering as successful and as pure?

The quality of the ceramic tea utensils, Duncan noted, had been different from the vase--rougher, more ancient, yet in their way, as lovely. The tea set was probably a family treasure beyond price. At one point after the tea ceremony the daimyo had explained with some pride that the utensils had come from Earth on
Hachiman
's second voyage. They had once been the property of the now-extinct imperial family of Terrestrial Japan.

Minamoto no Kami knelt on the tatami with his katana and
wakizashi
--the samurai’s
daisho
--at his side. The ancient swords were the work of the armorer Momoyama, and had been used by a Minamoto at the Battle of Sekigahara in the year 1600. The weapons were polished and dusted with talcum, the blades unadorned with engraving in the battle-wise style of Momoyama. Even in this modem environment, they seemed suitable weapons for this rather splendid old man.

“Speak to me of this war you seek, syndic-san,” the Shogun said. “To judge from this morning’s business, it appears others know more of it than I, and have strong feelings about it.”

The statement was direct and un-Japanese. Duncan had expected something quite different. This demand for information could have come from a fur-fish boat captain on Planet Thalassa. Duncan needed to remind himself that Minamoto no Kami was not, after all, a daimyo of Japan’s feudal era, but a ruler of Yamato’s Second Millennium.

Before politics dominated his life, he said, he had been a practicing xenobiologist with considerable experience in space. “I may look like a samurai painted on a war fan,” he had said with a barely perceptible smile. “No doubt Minamoto Kantaro has emphasized what an old-fashioned man I am. That is true. But I am under no illusions that the date is sixteen hundred. Or that politics have grown simpler since then.”

“Warning taken, Shogun,” Duncan said.

“One of the skills required in the exercise of power, Starman, is the ability to distinguish between truth and wish.”

“A skill I suspect you have mastered, Shogun,” Duncan said.

“No one ever masters it, syndic-san. But one’s percentage of success rises over time. And I am old.” He spoke with a steely ring in his fragile voice. “I have learned which of my wishes I have a right to see fulfilled. One of these is to be told the truth.”

“I did not bring
Glory
to Yamato to tell lies, Shogun,” Duncan said evenly. “It is not a syndic’s way. And it isn’t mine.”

“Good,” the old man said. “You appear to be a man who heeds warnings.”

“When I can, Shogun.”

The Shogun glanced at Kantaro. “It is not like an assassin of the Ninja Order to fail, nephew. How did it happen?”

“He must have misjudged the temper of the crowd in front of the ryokan,
tono
. “

How calmly they discuss our near-miss, Duncan thought. Whatever else they were, they were certainly pragmatics. The task was to interpret events, and so be prepared.

The daimyo turned back to Duncan. “Be warned. The Order does not take failure lightly, syndic-san.”

Duncan shrugged, his light eyes cool. “Karma, Lord Shogun,” he said.

Minamoto no Kami nodded approval of Duncan’s reply. “Tell me about the war you seek,” he said.

“We seek no war. We have made a discovery, that is all.”

“A disquieting discovery.”

“Yes.”

“Enough to bring you here without hope of gain.”

Glory
had warned that the colonists on Yamato were highly evolved capitalists. Their asteroid subcolonies were treated as independent states, free to exercise all their commercial and entrepreneurial skills, even on the inhabitants of the home planet.

“That is so, Shogun,” Duncan said. “Unless one chooses to assign a cash value to life, liberty, human survival...”

“I am being chided, I see,” the Shogun said. “Well. I asked, you answered. One sometimes does, syndic-san. You do well to remind me,” the Shogun said. He looked at Anya curiously. “You have spoken very little, Anya-san. Have you nothing to add to what your daimyo says?”

“Only my agreement, Shogun,” Amaya said in her selfassured way. “Despite what happened in front of the ryokan this morning.”

“Or because of it. I understand,” the old man said.

The Lord Mayor of Yedo flushed. He was not accustomed to hearing the most exalted official on his world spoken to so--most particularly, not by a woman. He began a protest, but the Shogun interrupted him.

“
Iie
, Kantaro-san,” the Shogun cautioned. “Our guests must feel free to speak plainly. We did not serve them well in Yedo today.”

Kantaro’s face became an instant mask. Duncan was reminded of
Glory
's, warning that the price of failure could be very high on Planet Yamato. The Shogun could issue harsh orders. Seppuku was common on Planet Yamato.

“The battle has only begun, Shogun,” Duncan said. “We are still searching for friends to share the burden.” Including a live and functioning Minamoto Kantaro, who would be well worth recruiting into
Glory
's fight against the Terror.

The old man regarded Duncan intently. “I wonder if you are not too frank to prosper on Planet Yamato,” he said.

Anya Amaya said quietly, “Shouldn’t we be open with one another, Shogun? There may be difficult times ahead. Wouldn’t we do well to remember that we are all Earth’s children?”

The old man said, “We have been separated for a very long time, Anya-san. We may have grown too far apart to share the burdens.”

“Or spoils?”

The megacapitalist steel glinted in the old man’s eyes.

“Carefully, Anya, “
Duncan subvocalized. He felt her bridle, and then she said, “Whether we share or not, it will come and we must face it. I think we would do better as allies and partners.”

“Even if we die, Anya-san?” the Shogun asked in a voice like a stiletto blade probing.

“Even then, Shogun.”

The old man smiled thinly at Duncan. “Are all your women made of steel, syndic-san?”

“They tend to be, Shogun,” Duncan said.

Minamoto no Kami said, “So this is what one learns in Centaurus.” The women’s colony of New Earth in the Proxima Centaurus System had been established before
Hachiman
had departed for Tau Ceti. The Japanese of Earth had violently ejected the feminist recruiters who came to their islands seeking converts. Some had been killed.
Perhaps it is a human trait
, Duncan thought,
that our quarrels and troubles outlive our civilizations
.

“I don’t know, Shogun,” Anya said. “But when New Earth’s time comes, I hope they will remember they are human beings before they are women.”

“When it comes?” the old man asked.

“When, Shogun, yes.”

The Shogun looked at Anya approvingly. “A samurai’s answer, Anya-san.” He turned to Duncan. “Now tell me of your enemies, Starman. Describe them.”

“I have never seen them, or it,” Duncan said. “I have only seen the men they have killed.”

“An invisible adversary, Kr-san?”

“There are colors the human eye cannot see, sounds the human ear cannot hear.”

“That is not reassuring,” the old daimyo said.

Duncan shrugged. “There are nonhuman Terrestrials aboard
Glory
. Our partners. They first sensed the Terror at a great distance.”

“Your partners? You mean your cats?”

“Yes, Shogun.”

The daimyo’s gaze shifted to Minamoto Kantaro for confirmation. “
Neko?
Truly?”

“I have not seen them, Shogun. But I am told they have remarkable powers,” Kantaro said.

Duncan had given Kantaro a detailed description of
Glory
's pride of cats. He had no idea whether or not the Yamatan believed him.

“Can you demonstrate the skills of your animals?” the Shogun asked. Minamoto no Kami was not only a skeptic. As a xenobiologist he was at least apt to be open to the idea that species other than human had abilities men did not. Mira’s pride would be a revelation to the daimyo of Honshu--of all Yamato, actually, Duncan thought. But, of course, there was no way fully to demonstrate the animals’ abilities to one who could not Wire to
Glory
's computer.

The Shogun said to Duncan, “I keep cats. As pets. They do not breed well on Planet Yamato, but those that do are companion animals, nothing more. We claim no supernatural powers for them.”

Duncan said, “With respect, Minamoto-sama. There is nothing supernatural about our animals. They were born and have lived all their lives in Deep Space. The environment has changed them. And our Cybersurgeon has given them implants that allow them to interface with
Glory
's computer. What Starmen do with drogues and sockets, the cats do by radio-link. The results have been--surprising.”

Duncan felt Amaya thinking and subvocalizing sardonically:
“That is an understatement only a Thalassan could make, Duncan. “

“Remarkable,” the daimyo said drily. Clearly he was far from convinced. But someone on Yamato was, Duncan thought. Convinced enough to send an assassin. The urge to hide from the unpleasant and the dangerous was, apparently, still universal among men.

The Shogun said, “We humans have criticized ourselves for millennia for being unable to establish reasonable interspecies relationships. You have succeeded where so many others have failed?”

“You are losing him, Duncan, “
Anya subvocalized.

“A few small successes, Shogun,” Duncan said. “But those successes have kept us alive. I believe our adversary is attracted by Terrestrial emotions. Enraged by them. I don’t know why. At the moment I don’t care. I think your new technology has taken Yamatans out far enough to draw attacks.”

“Emotions? Feelings? I think that a strange provocation, Kr-san.”

The old man was fishing for knowledge, Duncan thought. And the Yamatans
had
suffered losses caused by the Terror. He was certain of it. “Fear,” he said. “Any emotions might be dangerous. But fear is the common element in our encounters. I think I, personally, drew it down on my ship when I strayed too great a distance from
Glory
in a sled. I was afraid--and it
knew
. It fed on my emotions.”

“This is what you bring us, Starman?”

“With regret, Shogun.” Duncan realized it was not the style on Yamato to give a short, simple answer. But if the Yamatans were ever to work with the syndics of Goldenwing
Glory
, some changes in their ways would have to be made. The thing
Glory
’s people and the warriors of Nimrud and Nineveh had fought to a temporary standstill in the Ross Stars was unlikely to stop hunting Man now. It had a taste for death.

Duncan wondered,
Are the colonists of Yamato capable of meeting the challenge Glory brought?
He regarded the old daimyo steadily. The wars fought by the Shogun’s ancestors had not been conducted with tea ceremonies and Zen meditations. Like all mankind’s wars, they had been hard, bloody and savage.

“Kr-san, let us speak without ceremony,” the Shogun said.

“Please do, Minamoto-sama.”

The Shogun’s eyes flicked to Amaya and back to Duncan. “Do you wish to excuse your woman?”

Amaya flushed but maintained silence.
Glory
’s data bank had much to say about the interpersonal relations of the men and women who came into space from Earth’s Japan.