55: Diplomatic Potential

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Tyk can’t help but be impressed by the restraint of the people of Glittergem Hive. Even as Smon, clean and well rested and adorned in her least tattered silks, strides through the entrance hall with Tyk and Mia and their truebrothers, nobody tries to approach her; they form a clear path and look on with varying levels of curiosity, reverence or fear. Of course, people were polite at the Green Hills Hive too, up until they tried to kill her, but they’d seen sky people before; here, Smon is something entirely new. Tyk had expected to at least have to fend off some curious children sneaking into the trader burrow during the night, but no; the couple of overcurious kids turned away yesterday had been the whole extent of such things, apparently. Tyk wonders if special rules were put in place before their arrival.

The hiveheart had wanted to see them at sunrise, so here they are. Mia and Kemia escort them to the meeting and then step aside to wait outside the door, and as the heavy privacy silks fall into place over the doorway behind her, Tyk glimpses others of the hive break their respectful ranks and rush forward to pester Mia and Kemia with questions.

The hiveheart look, of course, the same as they had yesterday; sixteen people, most of them fairly old (it takes time to gather the wisdom and prestige necessary to earn a spot in a hiveheart), staring down three strangers. Keeping Mia’s advice from yesterday in mind, Tyk quickly picks out the three most important people in the room – Mal, clearly the oldest, her shell deeply carved with so many intricate designs that any further accomplishments would surely be impossible to etch without ruining the record of previous ones. The heart of the hiveheart, according to Mia. Yar, much younger and a fair bit smaller; the one who’d been resistant to letting the sky people establish a hive so close yesterday. Mia had said that she’s very cautious and resistant to potentially dangerous ideas, but can be swayed with logic. She has the practical manner of a worker, Tyk thinks; she’s probably on the hiveheart because she’s in charge of tunnel layout or resource distribution or farm work or something else critical to the hive that requires a clear-headed manager.

And Kesal. He didn’t speak last meeting, so it takes a moment for Tyk to remember which man he is. He’s a small man, thin and with long wings, good for short bouts of swift flying and in good condition for his age. He looks old but not ancient; his truesister is probably older than Yar but younger than Mal. The sneaky one; the one who looks out for himself. They will need to watch out for him unless they can find a way to make settling nearby and building Rayjo Tau benefit him personally.

But it’s Keton that speaks first. “Smon. Tyk. Ketyk. After careful consideration, we have chosen to accept your offer of divining metals for us, with some adjustments and caveats.”

“I am open to adjustments,” Smon says.

“After deliberation and examining our mining forces and resources, we have determined that we cannot offer you more than one tenth of our metal finds in exchange for your help.”

Smon hesitates in her reply, as if reluctant, but Tyk has been with her long enough to see that it’s an act. Knowing sky person body language fairly well by now, she can’t see any actual reluctance or disappointment in Smon’s manner. “I can do it for one sixth,” she says.

“One eighth,” Yar cuts in.

Smon tilts her head and shoulders up and throws her arms wide in a passable imitation of throwing one’s mandibles open in frustrated capitulation. “Acceptable. Agreed.”

“And,” Yar adds, “we can’t have you taking portions of deposits that we already know about and are digging for. You will only divine in areas that we designate.”

“That will make things a lot slower, but your concern is very reasonable. I can accept it. Or more specifically, I can agree not to divine in areas that you forbid. I’ll need the flexibility to divine metals in the mountains at large; whether you decide that it’s viable to dig up what I find is your own affair.”

The hiveheart have a very brief, quiet discussion.

“Agreed,” Yar says.

“You understand,” Smon says, “that all of this is contingent on me having a nearby use for metal. That is, on settling my hive nearby and building the Rayjo Tau.”

“And that,” Mal says, “is a much more difficult proposition. We are an old people, with a regimented way of life. What you are suggesting is a major, potentially dangerous, disruption. We do not know your people, your ways. We do not know how your practices will affect us. Hives are built far apart for a reason; hives built too close to each other, even if the sweetroot is available, step into each others mandibles and devolve into war.”

“My people aren’t tunnellers, and don’t dig up sweetroot,” Smon says.

“And that is part of the problem. Were you our kind, we would know what to expect and what to prepare for. We would know how long you might stay and be able to help you move away when necessary. But from yours, we have no idea what to expect and no way to plan. You are not what we expected, Smon of the Star Hive. You are not what we prepared for.”

“You prepared for people that you expected to be able to take to the Starspire and get rid of.”

“Frankly,” Yar says, “yes. The commitment you’re asking of us is much greater.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Smon says. “I’m not happy to have to move something as heavy as metal so far, especially up a mountain, but settling at Starspire itself, or a similar distant location, is acceptable. Starspire was the location that the sky people who sent me expected to set up the Rayjo Tau in.”

“And where are they?” Mal asks.

“Dead.”

“My condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“You came here specifically because you need help in setting this up, didn’t you?” Yar says. “There is nowhere close enough that we can provide support, close enough to reasonably move your metals through such terrain, that doesn’t provide such proximity problems.”

“I would think,” Tyk says, “that being as close as possible to the Rayjo Tau would be an advantage.”

Suddenly, she’s the centre of attention. “How so?” Mal asks.

Tyk thinks carefully. She knows the point she wants to make, but how can she phrase it so that it sounds noble instead of indecently mercenary?

“The recent upsets in the wingsong stream have shown just how vulnerable our own communication systems are,” she says.

“Upsets that we have to assume was caused by our guest and her hivemates,” Kesal says, speaking up for the first time.

Tyk sees no point in trying to deny that. “Which have, I suspect, become the reason why this remains such a good location for the Rayjo Tau. Had the hives been able to discuss the issue of our visitors further and communicate new information as we learned it, it might have been decided that a better location for the Rayjo Tau would be the Deep Bog Hive, with its access to metal, or somewhere more central like my own hive, Redstone River. But the stream went down when eyes and minds were on Starspire, on Glittergem, on the mountain range and the benefits provided by both its height and its position. And so, Smon has come here, offering you access to a communication tower that is impervious to such interruptions, that can be built outside the wingsong stream.” She pauses a moment, for effect, before adding, “A communication tower that can sing across the ocean. This place is a hub of history, a landing place for honoured lorekeepers from far away places, but the journey is long and such keepers are very few. How much greater will it be to be able to talk to them across the ocean itself?”

The hiveheart, as one, stare at her. They don’t even discuss her words, each lost in their own thoughts. She doesn’t have to lay out the details, obvious to anyone who thinks in terms of hives and towers; Rayjo Tau being close by would give them not only access to information from other continents, but a unique informational dominance over this continent. For information to get to other hives, it would have to go through Glittergem’s communication tower. They would be the informational gateway between the North and the South.

There may even be trade implications, Tyk thinks; if Glittergem can speak to other continents, can communicate their supplies and their needs across the ocean, would it be possible to establish trade routes for rare or unique goods such as the ‘opal’? Impossible to be sure before the tower is up, before the supplies are communicated and the travel risks are assessed, but the possibility must be tempting. (Tyk takes care not to mention it. If Smon realises the potential for the Rayjo Tau to disrupt existing trade routes, she’ll have another one of her ‘oh woe is me and my kind, for we are a curse upon your Earth’ crises.)

“Of course,” Tyk continues, “the Rayjo Tau does not have to be here. Smon says that the height is very important and being on the other side of the mountain range does offer unique communication abilities, but if there is one thing that any hive can do, it is build a tall tower on pretty much any terrain. If you don’t want a foreign hive established so close by, we of course will respect your decision, and perhaps try at Seastone Bay, although the lack of metal would make things difficult. Once the wingsong stream is functional again, which I’m told will be very soon, Smon’s people across the continent can use it to communicate between the hives and coordinate somewhere else; probably, as I said earlier, down on the south coast near Deep Bog Hive, for the access to metals. I’m sure that Smon has hivemates dropped into that sea, too, who will need communicating with.” The next part, Tyk knows, is a bit of a lie, but it’s one that the Glittergem Hive don’t have the information to doubt. So she goes ahead with it anyway. “In any case, Smon’s people are likely to gather in only one spot and build one tower on the continent. A hive needs a lot of people in it to function, after all. And that is, of course, a risk and a burden placed on whatever hive chooses to accept their presence; if you don’t want it, then we will be on our way once the wingsong stream is functioning again and we can coordinate with the rest of Smon’s people at other hives.”

Tyk doesn’t have to spell out the details. She finishes her speech there, letting them think that the silly little foreign girl hasn’t truly realised what an advantage their hive has, letting them think themselves clever for figuring it out themselves. Letting them realise that the mountains give them a unique advantage, should they wish to have the Rayjo Tau, but that their real advantage is time. If they reject Smon, then the group will accept their decision and either go and try their luck at Seastone Bay or wait at Glittergem for communication with the other hives to return; if they delay the decision too long, then the group will also likely wait on their decision until communication returns, and then other options are back on the stream for them. But if they get the project started before the wingsong stream is working again, then they can present a project in progress, rather than a proposed site among many. If they want the Rayjo Tau for themselves, then deciding right now and getting started right away will let them claim it. Dawdling could cost them the opportunity.

Tyk feels a strange sort of thrill watching them mentally traverse the tunnels that she dug out for them with her little speech, watching a room full of respected adults follow her logic and take it seriously not because they respect her opinion but because they believe it to be all their own, and she’s hit with a sudden notion.

Is this how Ayan feels all the time?

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