Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [34]
“So instead we must hide behind our borders like a tortoise afraid to stick its head out from its shell?” Kan-hi challenged his brother. “There’s an entire universe out there, full of new ideas and opportunities! Are we supposed to just pretend all those other worlds don’t exist? Do you expect that they will always be content to pretend we’re not here?”
The G’kkau certainly won’t, Riker thought. It was ironic, and more than a little troubling, that the treaty depended on the marriage of the Pai noble who seemed most opposed to it. Too bad Kan-hi, who was obviously more open to the prospect, was only the Second Son. I know how the Romulans would handle this, he mused ruefully. They’d assassinate both the Dragon and the Heir and set up a puppet government under Kan-hi. That’s not how the Federation operated, of course, but he wondered whether the G’kkau were capable of that kind of subtlety. Could Kan-hi be in cahoots with the G’kkau? He hoped not; he liked the roguish young prince much better than the Heir, who had a much more sour disposition.
“As you, my dear brother, pointed out mere minutes ago,” Chuan-chi said with a smirk, “there is no treasure in the heavens that can compare with the Green Pearl, so why should I wish to sample the unwholesome pleasures of the Federation? Then again, brother, under the circumstances, I suppose you have nothing better to do.”
Murder flashed in Kan-hi’s eyes. He clenched his fists against his sides. Riker noted that the Second Son’s fingernails were shorter and of a more practical length than those of many of the other Pai nobles, including the Heir. He guessed that Kan-hi led a more active life than most of the palace’s residents. Right now, however, he seemed on the verge of becoming too active. Kan-hi struck Riker as being only moments away from slamming his manicured fists into the Heir’s face. “Why, you vile excuse for a Pai!” he fumed. “If you weren’t my brother … !”
“Then I would be spared at least one embarrassing relation,” Chuan-chi finished the sentence for him. “As well as a disgrace to the honor of our line.” He crossed his arms over his chest, apparently unafraid of any violent reaction from his brother. His fingernails, Riker observed, were each over six centimeters long. Ten golden rings, each holding a different precious jewel, adorned his fingers. He held his chin up high, as if inviting an attack. Where Kan-hi seemed boiling over with red-hot fury, Chuan-chi’s haughty manner and frozen posture were cold as ice.
Riker was not the only one to note the mounting tension between the two princes. All around the suite, the scattered guests turned their heads in the direction of the confrontation, the abundant wine and women temporarily forgotten. The mood of the chamber suddenly became hushed and expectant, poised to explode at any minute. Riker had been in enough barroom brawls, not to mention any number of Klingon get-togethers, to know that trouble was brewing. He had no idea which of the assembled warriors supported the Heir and which were sympathetic to Kan-hi, but he sensed that a potentially lethal free-for-all was only heartbeats away. His right hand drifted toward his phaser, then hesitated. Were any of the Pai carrying energy weapons? He didn’t want to start a firefight in these close quarters, not if he didn’t have to.
“How dare you to malign my honor!” Kan-hi roared.
“Honor? What honor?” Chuan-chi said. Cold disdain dripped from every syllable he uttered. “Your disobedience and disrespect dishonors our father, your emperor. And your fondness for foreign alliances smacks of treason to the very idea of the Dragon Empire.”
“I’ll show you treason!” Kan-hi said, lunging to his feet. Too much wine had impaired his balance, however, and the sudden movement left him swaying where he stood. “I’ll kill you,” he vowed while he tried to focus his eyes on his hated half-brother. Riker took advantage