47: Border Dispute

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“Did they see Smon?” Saima asks.

“Hard to say. She travels under the farm cover sometimes, so they may not have. I don’t know when they spotted us. They were already heading back and their scout wasn’t surprised to see me, so far as I could tell, so they could’ve seen us at any time.”

“You could tell a lack of surprise at that distance?” Samet asks.

“Kemaska was the scout and he didn’t immediately drop out of the sky and try to hide when he realised I’d spotted him, so…”

“Hmm, yeah. That’s pretty brave for Kemaska.”

“I will hide,” Smon says, “just in case.”

“They won’t be here for a while, right?” Tama asks. “You’ve got time, Smon.”

Smon shakes her head. “A scout could come at any time, yes?” She looses some of the fabric covering the farm and crawls under it and up on top of the farm, a lump amidst a pile of lumps. Though the light drizzle and the farm’s drag tracks has already done most of the work, Tyk looks around for any suspicious bipedal walking tracks made by strange star people feet to erase.

“I can’t believe they’re not even running away,” Sakeya says. “The nerve! Trespassing in our territory, and they’re going to come over for a quick chat? I’ve a mind to – ”

“It’s certainly a very bad sign,” Saima agrees. “I wouldn’t put it past Kedorm to fudge borders and steal from us – ”

“Not the first time he’s done it, but if he doesn’t smarten up, it’ll be the last.”

“It probably will be close to the last anyway,” Tama says. “Isn’t he really old?”

“Hey, he’s younger than me!” Saima says.

“Yeah. Really old.”

Saima nips playfully at the air near Tama’s head; a lighthearted, joking admonishment. “It’s not the first time the nedorm have pulled a trick like this,” she continues, more seriously, “but them actually coming to talk to us instead of sneaking away does not indicate anything good. That means there’s something to talk about. There could be serious trouble.”

“Or they saw the farm and they have their own star sailors who want to contact our star sailors,” Kekeya suggests. “That could be why they’re still here, if they have their own reservoir and the nedorm were reluctant to leave them unprotected.”

“… Huh. That’s a distinct possibility, actually.”

“I’m the only one who ever thinks of the good possibilities around here. Surrounded by pessimists, I am.”

“Let’s not act on any assumptions,” Saima says. “We’ll see what they have to say before we do anything.”

“And their explanation had better be really good,” Sakeya grumbles.

“So we’re pushing on, then?” Samet asks.

“We’re pushing on.”

“Great. Let me know if Smon falls off.” She lurches forward, dragging the heavy farm behind her once more.

The nedorm turn out to be nine people, including two young girls. Like the neima, they aren’t pulling carts. Only one of the women has hive gems glued to her body, and Tyk can’t tell what hive they’re from.

As they approach, and old man flied up from the back of the group to land on the horns of a sleek-looking woman in front. (It’s obvious that they aren’t true siblings; she’s far too young for that to be the case.) She steps forward, as does Saima.

“Kedorm,” Saima says. “Samaska.”

“Saima,” Kedorm says. (Samaska flicks a respectful acknowledgement with her mandibles and says nothing.) “You’re early.”

“And you’re late. This is our harvest period.”

“Well, we weren’t expecting you to be early. What’s that thing you’ve got there?”

“Salvage. Don’t change the subject. You’re not supposed to be here. And your excuse is that you thought we wouldn’t be here to catch you?”

“We find it strange that you decided to migrate so early this year.”

“It’s within our rights.”

“I didn’t say it was illegal. I said it was suspicious. You’re usually so regular.”

“When the weather allows. It’s a little rough this year. Or perhaps we wanted to verify our suspicions about a group of potential thieves?”

“You’re calling us thieves?” one of the nedorm women cuts in, infuriated. She’s quickly shushed by the woman standing next to her.

“Yes, I am,” Saima says. “That is the whole reason we’re having this meeting, yes? You’re here. You have no right to be, and we do. I’d say it’s pretty straightforward.”

“Some crimes are more complicated than the wording of the agreements,” Kedorm says, cryptically.

The two leaders stare at each other in a long moment of tense silence.

“Hey,” Sabin calls, “could both of you maybe stop all the posturing and grandstanding and say in plain words what you mean for once? I just feel like that might hurry things along here.”

“Fine,” Kedorm says, stiffly. “Saima, you’re being manipulated by your people.”

“Why is it that every time we meet up, you question my ability to govern?”

“I’m not questioning you, Ima-ka. I’m advising you. The late-season trade caravan didn’t come through.”

“And that’s my people’s fault, how?”

“Why don’t you ask your Glittergems why their own caravan schedule changed?” one of the nedorm women calls. Sakeya takes a couple of steps forward, mandibles aimed at the woman, while Kekeya takes to the air above her, meeting the woman’s truebrother’s height as he does the same.

“What the fuck did you just say about us?” Sakeya asks.

“I thought I was pretty clear. This is exactly why it’s a bad idea for exiles to settle so close to their own hives. It lets them collude with them and screw over other – ”

Sakeya leaps forward, and things probably could’ve gotten ugly if Samet, predicting this danger, hadn’t already slipped her yoke. She tackles Sakeya to the ground before she can get close to the nedorm; the two nedorm girls likewise grab at their woman’s legs to stop her from leaping forward. Most of the men in both communities get ready to fly, in case they have to separate Kekeya and the man he’s facing down.

“If everyone could calm down for a moment,” Saima says, “am I given to understand that your loudmouthed idiot brat is accusing my people of colluding with Glittergem to delay their late season caravan so that we can swoop in early on our patrol and take their toll instead of you?”

“I know it’s hard to hear, Ima-ka, but – ”

Saima snaps at the air in Kedorm’s general direction. She doesn’t come anywhere close to attacking him, of course (there’s no way she’d stoop to attacking an old man, and Samaska looks young and strong and could clearly beat Saima in a fight in any case), but the intent is clear; the neima men all take is as a signal and take to the air, staring down Kedorm.

“Call me that again,” Saima says, “and we really will have a problem.”

Kedorm dips his wings respectfully. “Apologies. Saima.”

Saima cautiously returns the respectful gesture with one of her own. The men drop back down.

“We’re no colluding with the hive who threw us out, dipshit,” Kekeya informs the woman who’d accused them. “The trade delay has nothing to do with us.”

“You don’t seem surprised to learn about it,” the woman says.

“We’re not. Trade’s delayed because the wingsong stream is down.”

The nedorm, as one, look shocked.

Kedorm flutters his wings in astonishment. “How did you even find ou – ah, of course.” His gaze settles on Tyk and Ketyk. Ketyk, perhaps sensing his truesister’s nervousness, tries to hide behind one of her horns.

“And who do I have the pleasure of greeting, little one?” he asks.

“Tyk,” Tyk replies. She glances at the neima for cues; none of them look particularly concerned, and have all moved out of the way to allow Kedorm to talk to her directly, though Saima doesn’t back away and Kedorm doesn’t attempt to move past her towards Tyk. Kedorm and Samaska have taken on the relaxed, gentle sort of manner that Tyk remembers from the neima when she first arrived, and they were trying not to spook her.

“Satyk,” he says. “Welcome to the sleeplands. The neima are a strong people; you are safe with them, and I am sure you will do them credit. We are – ”

“Tyk. Not Satyk. Just Tyk.”

“… right. And your… companion…?”

“Is Ketyk, yes.”

“… uh. Okay. Well, welcome to the sleeplands, both of you. I am Kedorm, and we, the nedorm, are your neighbours. I promise you that our interactions are usually more… relaxed and joyful than this.”

“They feature less physical fighting, at least,” Saima says, with a glare at Sakeya.

“She started it.”

“It doesn’t matter who started it!”

“Can we stay on topic here?” one of the nedorm men asks. “The wingsong stream is down?”

“It was when I left,” Tyk says. “They said it will recover, but they weren’t sure when.”

“This isn’t good,” Kedorm says. “We need tower silk.”

“If caravans come through while we’re here,” Saima promises, “we’ll be sure to get some, and trade with you.”

“Trade?” The woman who’s accused Sakeya and Kekeya stands high. “It is ours by right!”

“Your caravans didn’t arrive,” Sakeya snaps. “You think we should give up ours for nothing?”

“I find this very suspicious. So the wingsong stream just happens to go down while the road is ours? Unlikely!”

“Fifty per cent chance,” Sakeya says, “if it goes down, that it’d be when – ”

“Nobody’s proven it’s even gone down!”

“Calm down,” one of the nedorm men says wearily. “We all saw that major starfall awhile back. We knew that major change would come; nothing else could make the stars so unsettled. Was that when it went down, Tyk?”

“Y-yeah. Shortly after the starfall.”

“There we have it. We can only be thankful that this chaos affects the hives and not us.”

“A lack of tower silk is a – ”

“We can do just fine without tower silk. Forage harder for grass. The neima manage.”

“The neima seem to be doing very well, since they’ve apparently taken to moving their own trade caravan.”

“That’s a good point,” Nedorm says. “I’ve been dying to know, what is that contraption?”

“It’s Tyk’s,” Saima says. “We’re escorting her to Glittergem.”

“Escorting her to – she’s not an exile? That’s why you’re off-schedule? You’re taking courier work from the hives?”

“They sent a child out without a hive escort?” one of the nedorm asks, indignant. “What, just because their precious wingsong stream isn’t working, suddenly nobody wants to travel so they send a girl and her brother who clearly can’t even fly yet out with hired guards? Cowards!”

“Never saw you as one to take orders from hives, Saima,” Kedorm adds. “I hope you charged a high price for your pride.” He turns to Tyk. “And what’s so special about you and urgent about this journey that your hive are too scared to travel but they sent you out regardless?”

“It’s… it…”

“It’s political,” Saima cuts in smoothly. “Something arranged before they lost communications. None of your business and none of mine.”

“You weren’t paid to ask questions, huh? When you say ‘political’, are we talking the war kind of political?”

“Hard to say. I’ve heard stories of some intense conflict. No idea if a failure to deliver would affect trade further, but…”

“Yes, we understand. If the neima are so desperate as to turn to selling use of their horns and wings to the mighty hives, who are we to stop them? But you don’t have to do this sort of thing, Ima-ka. If you’re still in trouble after collecting from this job, come to us. We have more people and more resources. We can help you.”

“I’d rather starve,” Saima says coldly. “And I told you not to call me that.”

“Well, at least stop with us tonight and let us – ”

“We have plenty of food, as you can plainly see,” Tama says sweetly, speaking up for the first time. “Thank you so much for your concern, but I expect that we’re doing far better for resources than you are, given the present circumstances. Aren’t we only able to run into each other today because you’re so desperate for resources that you’re trying to steal our forage and trade tolls?”

To Tyk’s great surprise, nobody hushes or scolds Tama for speaking up out of turn. Kedorm, too, seems surprised by this; he waits expectantly for somebody to speak up, and when nobody does, flutters his wings in a very childish sulk.

“Well, why take work from the hives, then?”

“Should we have left Tyk and Ketyk on their own?”

“How did they even contact you? Why would they trust you? You say the Glittergem pair aren’t collaborating with them, but how else – ”

“It seems to me that a lot of the problems your two peoples are having are based on secrets and misunderstandings,” says half a dozen voices stitched together word by word from the top of the farm. “Perhaps that should be rectified.”

Smon drops to the ground and steps out from under the farm covering. “Hello,” she continues. “I’m Smon. It’s an honour to meet – ”

The nedorm, as one, scramble backwards, some of the men taking to the sky in alarm. “What the fuck is that?!”

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