Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [146]
“Not at all!” Caleb said loudly. “We’re from the Roamer clans.”
The commerce minister did not seem to understand or care about the difference. “We know little about the nuances of human society and your various factions. However, if your faction wishes to supply us with ekti and vital resources, we would welcome such an interaction.”
The spacious reception hall was too bright, too warm, and too formal for Denn. Though he had worn his best clan outfit, he suddenly felt extremely underdressed. Caleb looked even more out of place, but didn’t seem to notice.
Neither man could believe the Mage-Imperator himself wanted to see them. They had been impressed enough that the Ildiran minister of commerce had met with them. Then, to their surprise they had been summoned into the skysphere. Denn could not remember feeling more anxious in a trade negotiation.
Jora’h greeted them from his chrysalis chair. Denn had seen images of the previous Ildiran leader, who had been so corpulent and atrophied he couldn’t move from the cradlelike throne. Jora’h, much newer to his role, had not yet succumbed to lethargy. He leaned forward, showing his true interest. “According to your discussions with my minister of commerce, you are carrying a cargo of worldtree wood from Theroc? I am interested in this.”
Denn exchanged a surprised look with his companion, and the other man shrugged.
“Whatever sells...” Caleb nudged him.
Denn took a step forward. “After the hydrogues attacked Theroc, we Roamers helped the Therons clear the burned forest. As a gift, they allowed us to keep some of the fallen wood. It has quite remarkable properties. I’d be glad to show you some samples. If the Ildiran Empire would like to purchase a small amount of this material, I’m sure we—”
“I will buy all of it.” Jora’h’s eyes met Denn’s, as if the Ildiran leader were trying to probe him with his alien mind. “I was recently given a treeling from Theroc, and I would like to have this wood as well.”
Denn didn’t know what to say. He had forgotten that Ildirans, with their connected society all bound to the Mage-Imperator, had never learned the nuances of haggling—much to the benefit of the Roamers. “That is...most generous, Mage-Imperator. Thank you. But we have not yet discussed the cost.”
“I will pay your price.” With a wistful smile, Jora’h explained, “Two green priests once studied our Saga of Seven Suns here in the Prism Palace. I...grew quite fond of one of them. Your worldtree wood will remind me of her.” He gazed off into the distance, and Denn felt that something deep and strange was going on here. “Forgive me. Our Empire is currently experiencing a time of troubles.”
“Yeah, we’ve seen the hydrogues and the faeros in one of your suns,” Caleb said. “It must be—”
The Mage-Imperator lifted his hand. “There are many crises. I look forward to receiving the wood. My commerce minister will pay you and make arrangements for a cautious resumption of trade between Roamers and Ildirans.”
Seeing that they were dismissed, the two men left the skysphere, pleased with how well the meeting had gone. It seemed a successful venture all around and boded well for the future—unless the hydrogues extinguished the rest of the stars in Ildira’s sky. Then all the ekti in the Spiral Arm wouldn’t help them.
Chapter 70—MAGE-IMPERATOR JORA’H
After the Roamer traders had departed, Jora’h sequestered himself in his private chambers with the specimens of worldtree wood. Outside, his Empire continued to crack and crumble. He could not forget the betrayal of the Klikiss robots, the hydrogue attacks on Hrel-oro, and now the dying sun of Durris-B. He needed to find solutions to the many disasters around him. He had to think, and to decide.
The most personal crisis was the Hyrillka revolt. From the Horizon Cluster he felt a growing emptiness in the thism as more and more of his people slipped away. After the Dobro Designate delivered his message and warning, Jora’h stopped waiting for his three scout cutters to return. He had sent those crewmen—as well as