Chapter 6: Politics *shudder* (Patreon)

“What in the nine hells are you doing here!?” Vresh demanded, shaking him lightly by his collar. As far as Jeb was aware, this was the half-time break of the dinner, where everyone got a chance to stretch their legs, and Vresh had taken the opportunity to drag him aside and get the whole story.

“Well, I got a letter I thought was from you, and since we parted on amicable terms, and there was a dead imperial valet in my hotel room, I thought you could…you know…help with that?”

“I’m not sweeping a corpse under the rug for you, Jeb. I don’t like you that much.”

She likes me!

“To be fair, it’s more of a pile of ash. Very conducive to being swept under a rug. Besides, I didn’t kill ‘em.”

She glanced at him from the side. “Are you responsible?”

Jeb considered that.

“A…little? I guess it would have been better if I left a note, but I just assumed not touching things with auras of dread was common sense.”

Jeb saw her losing her patience and decided to switch tactics.

“So, the guy to the left, what’s his deal?”

“He’s my maternal uncle, and he’s one of the few people in the family not immediately descended from Vrosh Tekalis.”

“I thought your dad was the patriarch?”

“He only married the once,” Vresh said with a sigh. “In four hundred years, he only had one daughter, while his brother has a couple every decade. Nearly every major position inside the family has been quietly filled by someone directly descended from him.”

“So why can’t he just take it? Or start his own house?”

“I’m sure he could make his own house, but the Tekalis name has a lot of history, pull, respect…and money. He wants that name. He wants that money. The meeting today is to try and pressure me into marrying one of my cousins and making Vrosh my father-in-law, allowing him to legally assume stewardship over the name.”

“Gross.”

She shrugged. “The cousins put forward are removed by several generations, so it’s not as gross as you might think…but yes. Gross.”

“So why can’t you just like…” Jeb made a chopping motion at his neck.

“If I do that, the family will dissolve.”

“So why’s your maternal uncle here?”

“Bravus Morbin is a moneylender who was funneled quite a bit of our business while my father was alive, partly at the behest of my mother, and after her death, by my father, possibly out of a sense of guilt. Right now, that man has more of the family business in his hands than I do. If he decides to support Vrosh, there’s not much I can do. I can’t make a scene, or else the scales in Bravus’s head may tip in Vrosh’s favor.”

“So what do we do?”

“If you weren’there, I would most likely be talking to Bravus right now.” She jerked her head toward the side of the room, where Vrosh was chatting up the melas moneylender.

The other two melas loyal to her uncle stood between them, eyeing Jeb and Vresh like defensive linemen. Jeb could read it in their body language that they intended to snag anyone that tried to approach Bravus and subject them to stalling measuring consisting of banal questions.

Is this politics or football? Jeb thought, curiously. Actually, thinking of it like football really helps me get my head around the game here.

The moneylender was the ball, Vrosh’s croney’s were the defence, and Vrosh was trying to score with the other man.

Eww, no, that analogy fell apart pretty quick.

Jeb’s gaze landed on the young Melas man who had been seated beside her. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, shifting from side to side as he obviously felt left out of the conversation, but was too passive to barge in.

Not a good sign for Vresh’s only present ally.

“We haven’t been introduced, Jebediah Trapper.” Jeb said, offering his hand. The nervous young man took it after a moment’s hesitation.

“Jozeth Fross. My father owes her father a favor, and has sent me to express our support. Unfortunately we are a minor house, without too terribly much sway.” He glanced nervously at the wealthy melas opposite the room from them.

“Weak.” Jeb blurted before regaining control of his tongue.

Of course, the kid’s dad probably had more in mind than selflessly returning the favor to a dead man. He could do that, but why not make a bid for getting your son inside a powerful family?

Even if that failed, as long as Vresh won, the debt would exist to some extent, improving the relationship between the two houses.

“Why can’t Vrosh over there squish your house for standing up to him?” Jeb asked.

“We operate in separate sectors,” Jozeth said. “He couldn’t dissuade us from supporting Ms. Tekalis without paying more than it was worth, and potentially opening his family to being picked at by another great house. This could lead to a downward spiral.”

Ah, the buzzards are constantly circling each other. That was why everyone had to play so goddamn defensively. Get too carried away dealing with one threat and the other will show up and take you out, reaping all the benefit at no cost.

Let’s see. Including me, we’ve got three people, which is the same number that they have. We should leave talking to Bravus to Vresh, since she’s the one who actually knows what’s going on.

The question is how do we pry him away from Vrosh? There’s only three of us, which is the same number as them…

Wait a minute.

Jeb excused himself and hustled over to where the fairy was hiding under the cabinet…only she wasn’t there anymore, she was sitting in the chandelier, holding her fingers above the soft flames until she winced and withdrew them.

Is that…candle soot around her eyes?

“Smartass…you okay…?” Jeb called up to her.

“Existence is pain. Eventually everything turns to dust and is washed away by an ocean of time.”

No wonder Smartass said older fairies were mean.

“Pretty sure you’re immortal,” Jeb called up to her.

“Immortality is a word devised by the short lived to describe something they don’t understand. But time is relentless. It doesn’t matter how it happens, sooner or later, the pieces align, and entropy will win out.”

“Okaaay…you wanna freak out some squares?”

She glanced at him and sighed. “I guess.

******

“Alright, huddle up.” Jeb said, hooking an arm over Jozeth’s shoulder and Vresh’s as best he could. “The fairy is locked and loaded, we’re only gonna get one shot at this before they bring desert. Does everybody understand your roles?”

“I’m going to engage Daz Tekalis in a conversation first.” Jozoth said with a nod.

“I’m going to ask the horny guy on the right all the questions I’ve been saving about Melas biology.” Smartass said from Jeb’s shoulder.

“I’m going to peel Vrosh away from your other uncle.” Jeb said, glancing at Vresh.

“And I’m going to convince him to side with the primary family.” She said.

“Just like that?” Jeb asked.

“I can be very convincing,” Vresh said, with the cold voice of an executioner.

“I leave it to your discretion.” Jeb said. “Alright, Jozeth, you’re up.”

Jozeth nodded, then went to do word-battle. He aimed for Vrosh and Bravus first, forcing the leftmost Tekalis to step in front of him, dragging him into a faux congenial conversation that it would terribly impolite to shrug off.

“Alright, my turn,” Jeb said, peeling away from their huddle and heading around the right side of the table, heading for the two powerful Melas in the corner.

The right hand Melas moved toward him, but before he could open his mouth, Jeb extended his hand.

“She’s got some questions for you.”

“Hi!” Smartass said, using his arm as a springboard to hop on top of the man’s head and grabbing onto his horns.

“Are these functional?” She asked. “Is this part of a mating display, or do you guys actually use them to fend off predators, or what? I’m guessing mating display since you have opposable thumbs and weapons you could easily use to fend off predators. Does it relate to the size of your dong? Can I see your dong?”

Jeb slipped past the flustered defense and made a beeline for Vrosh Tekalis, intending to distract him by seeking advice on etiquette for his audience with the emperor. Might as well perform double duty with his distraction.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, I was hoping to ask –“

“Mr. Trapper!” Bravus Morbin said, grabbing Jeb’s arm and dragging him away from Vroth, who looked amused. “Just the person I wanted to talk to!”

“¿Que?” Jeb asked as Bravus lead him away. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jeb saw Vroth block Vresh’s advance, planting himself firmly in between them, much to the ex-Enforcer’s displeasure.

Damnit! The plan has failed! Modify the plan! Jeb wasn’t the best wordsmith, but he could at least give Vresh his seal of approval before crème brulee arrived.

“So about Vre-“

“What bank are you planning on using to store all that money?”

“All what money?”

Bravus lowered his voice conspiratorially “The Impossible fortune. If you truly did complete the Impossible tutorial, there is a significant amount of treasure in your name in the imperial vaults.”

Jeb blinked. “Honestly I’d forgotten about it.”

“Haha, what a kidder,” the fat Melas said, slapping Jeb on the back. Luckily, he had enough Body to resist the power behind it. “So, what are you plans for it?”

“Probably will the liquid cash to Zlesk and the other administrators of the Admiral Orphanage, and keep any non-liquid assets for myself.” Jeb said with a shrug.

“An orphanage, huh? Have you considered a trust fund geared toward maintaining it’s operation indefinitely rather than simply divesting yourself of all your assets?”

Am I being…sold to?

Wow. Jeb had never considered that he was worth the time and effort. He didn’t think he gave off the signs of wealth, except possibly the fact that he wasn’t concerned with it.

Some people could sniff out money like a bloodhound.

I wonder if that’s a Class or something? Jeb thought for a moment before screwing his head back on straight.

“Gimmie your card, that actually sounds like a decent idea.”

“My card?” Bravus asked.

“You don’t carry business cards around with your contact information? I suppose without telephones, they might not be as applicable. At least your office location and mailing address.”

“Hmm…” The melas man’s face flashed with inspiration a moment before he pulled an envelope out of his vest and ripped the address off the top corner, handing it to Jeb.

“There you are, Mr. Trapper.”

“I’ll keep you in mind for a trust fund,” Jeb promised, shoving the address into his vest pocket. “In the meantime, I actually had questions that I think you could elucidate.”

“By all means.”

“Why support Vroth and not Vresh? It was my understanding that Vresh was the heir.”

Blunt, but to the point.

Bravus smiled wistfully.

“Ah, it’s a shame such a lovely girl has been put in this situation. I appreciate your directness, Mr. Trapper. The reason I would choose her uncle over her is the same as any other decision I must make as a moneylender: Risk.”

Jeb raised a brow and nodded, prompting him to continue.

“Being the patriarch of the Tekalis family is historically a dangerous endeavor. Her father had the longest reign of any leader of the family. He was an outlier with the strength of ten patriarchs before him. We do not know yet how much of his strength Vresh inherited.”

“If it’s so dangerous, why choose Vrosh, isn’t the man demonstrably weaker than she is?”

“Physically, perhaps, but the man has well-trained replacements for days. Three of them are serving the emperor as Enforcers right now, so strength of arms is not a concern. Vresh has no successors whatsoever, and an unproven ability to survive the position.”

“So she’s a risky bet because she hasn’t had enough babies?” Jeb said aloud, brow raising.

“Crudely put, yes.”

Hmm…Jeb thought, thumbing his chin. That gives me an idea. The problem is not enough babies, make some more babies. Matter of fact, just take someone else’s babies. Make the problem into the solution. It’s crazy but I don’t see why it shouldn’t work.

A bell rang, and the massive double doors opened to reveal a train of servants steering in several carts full of dessert, signaling an end to the half-time pow-wow.

Everyone re-took their seats as delicious dishes were passed out. Smartass even got her own high-chair, as the staff went above and beyond to accommodate her. She’d temporarily forgotten about her goth phase, although she was still wearing candle soot around her eyes as she enthusiastically devoured the crème brulee.

“What did he say?” Vresh whispered between bites of cubed felly.

“He gave me a clearer picture on why he’s leaning towards your uncle.”

“Did you try to convince him otherwise?” she asked above a glass of diesel.

“No time,” Jeb whispered back. “But he did give me some ideas for how to fix your problem. And I think they would work better if you admitted to everyone that you find me attractive.”

Vresh spat a fine mist of diesel across the table, where it touched the candles and formed into a massive fireball, leaving the decorative flowers in the center smouldering.

“Hahahah!” Jeb cackled wildly before Vresh punched him in the shoulder, sending him tumbling out of his seat. Smartass yelped and dodged out of the way, saving her soft treat from Jeb’s flailing arms as he passed.

Ow.

“Something wrong?” Vrosh asked with a frown, attracting Vresh’s gaze.

The former Enforcer’s red skin darkened to a deep crimson as she blushed heavily, fozen like a deer in headlights.

“I was. Umm…” She struggled to form words.

“I said something inappropriate,” Jeb said, hauling himself back onto the table. “My bad.” He reached up and grabbed his muddy prosthetic from where it had landed on the table.

“I see. I didn’t expect your friend to be so uncouth.” Vroth said. Jeb could see how extremely pleased the man was with her outburst, virtually patting himself on the back for inviting Jeb – a notoriously chaotic influence – to Vresh’s pitch to her moneylending uncle.

Enjoy it while it lasts, buddy.

***Later***

The delegates had gone back to their homes after the servants salvaged as much of the evening as possible. Vresh maintained a barely controlled anger until the last person was out of sight beyond the front gates.

As soon as they disappeared behind the hedge, she rounded on him and picked him up by his collar. This time, Vresh was shaking him a fair bit harder than before, his shirt making worrying tearing noises as she throttled him.

“What was that!?”She demanded.

“Have you considered adoption?” Jeb asked with a grin.

***

The kitri lawyer cleared his throat, his elongated talon following the weathered text in the lawbook as he spoke, his voice thin and reedy.

“In the case of Forzus Vs. Forzus, it was determined that a Citizen cannot be disowned or disinherited on the basis of sexual preference.”

“Furthermore,” the lawyer said, flipping through the massive book to another densely worded page. Code eleven hundred and fifteen, section C, Paragraph two states that should an inheritor’s sexual deviancy preclude the creation of legitimate offspring, the state will uphold their right to adopt a close family member and name them as a successor in the eyes of the law.”

“Blam,” Jeb said motioning to the book. “Problem solved.”

Vresh squinted at him. “How did you know that would be a viable option?”

“Off the top of my head, I can’t remember, but I know on Earth, there have been stories about people adopting family members in cases of infertility or something of that nature. On Pharos, I knew there had to be a precedent for it. And look, it’s written vaguely enough to account for your xenophilia.”

Vresh tried to stomp on his toe, but missed because it was the missing foot.

The kitri lawyer cocked a brow, glancing between the two of them. “My time is a bulb an hour, so if you’ve got questions, I would suggest being quick with them rather than flirting.”

“Can we adopt one of her uncles children and steal the man’s support out from underneath him?”

“You might.” The balding kitri said, cleaning his glasses. Jeb couldn’t get the vision of an old buzzard out of his head. “Although from what you’ve told me, if this uncle of hers has more than one major pillar of support this may simply fracture the family even further. Have you considered simply adopting the uncle?”

Vresh’s jaw dropped.

“Why on Pharos would I do that?”

“With the right contract you can give him legal status as your ‘firstborn’. Then when he dies, the right of succession would go to your actual firstborn You essentially make it into a battle to see which of you can outlive the other. Given your apparent youth and tremendous Body stat, your natural life expectancy is most likely far above your uncle’s, while he may believe you’ll suffer…misfortune before he passes away. If both of you are confident you can outlast the other, the arrangement may satisfy all parties. I’ll make overtures to the man’s lawyer.”

“Wow. That’s incredible, thank you.” Vresh said.

“You’re welcome, although to maintain the legitimacy of your claim of being a xenophile, you may wish to spend more time in public with Mr. Trapper here.”

“Can’t I just be a lesbian?”

“Are you?” The lawyer asked.

Vresh glanced at Jeb before she deflated in her chair. “No…”

Whoo! Jeb cheered internally.

“Wow, I’m glad we could get a course of action figured out. Wanna go get something to eat to celebrate? He did say we should be somewhat public with.”

Vresh glanced over at him, pursing her lips. “Was this whole thing a way to entrap me into going on a date with you?”

“Absolutely not,” Jeb said, shaking his head. “Forcing you to go on a date with me is a target of opportunity.”

Vresh gave a full-throated laugh. “Fine, but I pick the restaurant. You don’t know anything about the capital.”

“As long as they have human food, I’m fine with it.”

The lawyer cleared his throat again.

“Do you two have anything else for me?” He asked, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. “Because I would hate to charge you another bulb for dead air.”

Translation: ‘Your flirting is irritating me, and If you’re done, get the hell out of here.’

Vresh stood and offered Jeb a hand, which he took.

Her hand was smooth as the finest desert sand, bigger than his own, yet delicate for its size. Temperature feverish, nearly scalding.

Jeb liked the pain.

How can her hand be this soft when she fights with swords for a living? Or used to? Jeb could only assume Body had something to do with it.

Vresh’s thumb tickled the hairs on the back of his hand, and Jeb about lost his mind. A jolt of electricity buzzed up into his brain, then filtered down through his body, making his heart thump, breathing labored, knees noodley.

“You’re so cold,” She murmured, leaning over him, heat radiating off her body like a furnace.

Jeb grinned. “Well, I bet you could do som-“

“Get out of my office,” the kitri said, pointing.

“Yessir,” Jeb said, hopping out of the seat and clomping towards the door, trying his best not to mar the kitri’s expensive carpet with his prosthetic. Despite being a bit curmudgeony, he’d given them an exploitable loophole.

Pro tip: Never get on your lawyer’s bad side. They work tirelessly on your behalf. Until they don’t. Jeb was fairly sure the old kitri knew just as many ways to screw them over as help them.

When they hit the street, Jeb took a deep breath of the stanky city air and heaved a sigh. Smartass rejoined them immediately, having been prohibited from the lawyer’s office. The fairy flew up to his shoulder as he took stock of the situation.

He’d made great strides helping Vresh out with her problems, now he could refocus on his own.

“So about that dead guy in my hotel room…”

“You still wanna go on that date?” She asked, cocking a brow.

“Nevermind. What dead guy?” technically not a lie, a sidestep phrased as a question. question.

“Umm, Jebediah Trapper?” Jeb’s brow shot up at the sound of his own name, and he turned, expecting to find someone intending to arrest him.

Instead he found himself looking at a kitri with rather glossy feathers, wearing an Imperial Valet badge and a white velvet/gold trim vest. Behind the kitri boy – he was male, judging by his feathers, and still had a tiny bit of growing to do – there were two more companions, a keegan with a slender saber and a belt full of what looked like climbing supplies, and a melas woman with similar proportions to Vresh, dressed remarkably similarly, down to the tight-fitting pants and half-buttoned shirt.

“That’s me,” Jeb said with a frown, scanning them for signs they might start something.

“My name is Piwaki Apiyeki,” He said, making a neck-wobbly kitri bow. “I’ll be your Imperial Valet to help prepare you for –“

“Outta the way!” the melas girl said, shoving the Valet aside, causing the kitri to stumble away with a honk.

“Oh, my goddess, You’re Vresh Tekalis!” She said, clasping her hands in front of her face in astonishment.

“You two –“

“Hey, you’re Jebediah Trapper right?” The Keegan asked, interrupting his friend.

“Yes?” I just said that.

“I’m such a big fan! I don’t know if you noticed, but I basically base my whole style off of you. The way you took out that cabal of reapers that had infilitrated Juskanta was amazing!” the melas girl continued, looking up at Vresh with eyes brimming with worshipful tears.

Vresh seemed used to having people fangirling over her, handling the girl easily with a bemused smile.

“So what was the Impossible Tutorial like?” the keegan asked Jeb while all this was going down. “I always regretted being born before the keegan were added to Pharos.”

“You could always just go to the Death wilds on your own, if you want,” Jeb said with a shrug. The Impossible tutorial was just set in a really inhospitable place. Nothing preventing people from going there.

“It’s not quite the same,” The keegan said, shaking his head. “The time limit, the looming threat of death should you fail…” The keegan’s long, hollow tongue slipped out of his mouth for a moment as he daydreamed about possibly dying.

“Agh!” The keegan stumbled away as the imperial valet used his claws to deliver a knife-hand jab to the alien’s ribs.

“As I was saying…” Piwaki’s gaze landed on the other melas girl, who was trying to get Vresh to sign her cleavage.

“Jeresh, control yourself!”