Kensho (Claimings verse) (Patreon)

Colonel Haru Ito watched the security monitor as Liam Munson walked off the Rownt shuttle. He waited to see if the male Rownt would follow, but Munson appeared to be alone. Perhaps he planned to come to explain why Tuk-Ondry was unavailable to discuss the Tura Coalition trade. The osmium Ondry had offered was valuable, but not as critical as the alloys the Grandmothers could offer.

Haru had no doubt that Command had asked him to handle Ondry’s trade only because the generals chose to focus on the Grandmothers with their more extensive resources. The idea of allowing one gender to control all major sources of trade goods seemed ridiculous, but Haru would still take the Rownt with their odd gender beliefs over the treacherous Anla.

Munson walked up to the sergeant waiting at the vehicle, and Haru leaned closer to the screen. At first he thought the camera angle was somehow distorting the image, but then Munson stepped up to the sergeant driving the escort vehicle and Munson towered over him. “Lieutenant?” he called to his aide.

Lieutenant Ratos appeared at the door. “Sir?”

Haru turned the monitor so Ratos could see it as well. “How tall is the sergeant you sent out to meet Munson and Ondry?”

“Sir?” Ratos stepped closer and peered at the screen for several seconds before he answered. “Sergeant Balza-Zavala has to be at least six feet tall.”

That was clearly impossible because Munson towered over him. “Find me the records for how tall each of them is,” Haru ordered as his comm began to flash.

“Yes, sir.” Ratos vanished, and Haru waited a second before answering his comm. “Colonel Haru Ito speaking.”

“Colonel,” a familiar voice said, “are you watching the disembarkment?”

“Yes, sir,” Haru said. “My aide says the sergeant is at least six feet, but if that’s the case, Munson appears to have grown slightly.”

“The computer estimates height at seven feet three inches, but there’s a two inch margin of error.”

Haru blew out a breath. Munson didn’t appear malformed, so whatever had happened, his entire body had grown proportionally.

“Needless to say, we are interested in finding out what happened,” General Dafaor said, “and Zach Mora has not yet made contact with. If we want to know what’s going on, we may need to go through Ondry and Munson.”

“Sir, the Rownt doesn’t appear available to trade. I will attempt to draw Munson into a conversation and get information on what might have happened.” Haru let his tone communicate his doubt. Munson had no reason to engage in small talk, not given his background.

“Do what you can,” the general said before hanging up. Haru closed the connection and put his comm down on his desk. One of his monitors showed a newsvid reporter standing beside a small crowd of determined protesters with anti-Rownt signs. It seemed like every time the Rownt came to one of the human planets, they brought drama. The xenophobic churches certainly had any number of conspiracy theories about the enormous ship the Rownt kept outside the moon’s orbit. The Calti. 

Haru wasn’t sure what to think about a ship named for a philosophy that confirmed the inability of a sentient creature to understand the universe or the harm caused by that ignorance. The briefing he had read sounded entirely too much like the Buddhist concept of Avidya for him to believe it was accident. Perhaps Rownt were part of the tapestry of the moral universe in a way that Haru had trouble believing the Anla were.

However, whether they were moral creatures on the Eightfold Path or not, they were—as a species—fairly terrifying. Rownt shuttles were as large as human battleships, and the newsvids showing the Rownt orbital ships had sent some people into hysteria or in the case of the vid Haru was watching, drove them to uselessly protest outside Command’s gates.

While Haru wasn’t a fan of having any alien on Earth, he saw no point in protesting. It wasn’t as if Command had given the Rownt permission to land. When they had first appeared in-system after a round of negotiation on Gauss-4, Command had issued general evacuation orders for the large cities, and a number of areas had suffered riots. So no one was under the illusion that Command had allowed the Rownt to come to Earth. The Rownt simply had the technology to prevent defensive satellites from locking onto their hulls. 

And Command had thought them provincial, underdeveloped turtles good only to provide raw ore and a underground pornography that made its way through the lower ranks. Unless Haru missed his guess, more than head had rolled over that mistake. While Haru was aware that more than one career had been ruined by Munson and the Rownt, he had sought this assignment because other careers were being made. General Dafaor had earned a promotion and transfer back to Earth based off his ability to get the Grandmothers to trade. 

Lieutenant Ratos spoke over the comm. “Sir, Lieutenant Munson is here to see you.”

Haru cringed. He needed to brief Ratos on appropriate protocol, including using Munson’s Rownt title. “Send Tuk-Palteia Munson right in,” he answered.

Haru stood, and seconds later Munson walked in the door with a smile. Or rather he ducked to avoid the top of the door before walking in. “The lieutenant appears to have given me a demotion,” he said with amusement.

“I’ll speak to him about that,” Haru promised. He had read the briefing reports, so he could image that a man who had been systematically abused for as long as Munson had been would guard his titles carefully. After all, they were proof of the respect he had claimed. More than that, Haru didn’t want to disrespect Munson because his work had earned him the right to be called tuk, which Haru understood what either a high colonel or a general. From a Rownt perspective, Munson might outrank him, although Command still considered him a lieutenant.

“It’s fine. I’m sure he’s more used to Earth titles.” Munson appeared to dismiss the issue. “So, Colonel, I understand you would like to discuss osmium.”

Munson’s quick transition to the issue of trade caught Haru off balance. “Command had hoped to discuss trade. Is Tuk-Ondry not available?”

“He is, but he’s working on another deal, so I came to trade,” Munson said slowly, and again, Haru got the impression he was amused. When Haru gestured toward a chair, Munson sat without any of the discomfort Haru had expected from a man with Munson’s file. “How much ore would Command like?” Munson asked.

Haru sat on the visitor’s chair across from Munson. He hoped it would be a less confrontational than a conversation over his desk. “We had hoped for fifty pounds.” That was twice what Haru’s superiors had asked for, but the Rownt were shrewd negotiators, and Haru needed to push hard if he hoped to get anything approximating a reasonable price.

Munson nodded slowly. “That’s a large order, but the Tura Coalition certain can fill it. The question is why we would want to given that we would have to reduce our sales to the Imshee.”

Imshee. The Rownt kept mentioning that species and their technology, but neither Haru nor his superiors knew whether to believe the Rownt claim that another highly sophisticated species lived within distance to visit Earth. Claiming to have other clients was a classic move to increase the price during negotiations. Imshee might be the Rownt word for ‘let’s trick these suckers into paying too much.’ Sadly, with the damnable War of the Colonies going on, Earth was willing to pay far too much.

Haru ran his fingertip over the stitching on the arm of the chair. “What sort of goods are you interested in? I understand texts are popular.”

“They were,” Munson said, “but since the Rownt have come this far, they’ve electronically raided libraries across several human planets. The uniqueness of human literature has dimmed, and with it, the value.”

Haru nodded. He had hoped to make a deal they could both profit from, but apparently the easy trades Munson himself had made while on Prarownt were no longer viable options. “So what is still popular?”

Liam pursed his lips. “Spices, uniquely crafted artwork, handmade textiles or silks, teas, unique gemstones, although something like a diamond is ubiquitous and nearly worthless in trade. They’re interested in plant specimens or difficult to obtain DNA strands, such as fossilized DNA samples from extinct animals.” He stopped and blew out a breath. “Surprise me with an offer, and maybe I’ll get interested in something I had never considered.”

Haru raised his eyebrows.

Munson’s smile grew wider. “And if you find something I really think is interesting, I’ll even answer the question you aren’t asking.”

“Which is?”

“What happened to me to make me so tall.”

Haru leaned back. “You’re assuming we want to know.”

“I’m human, so I know you’re dying of curiosity,” Munson said without an ounce of doubt. “But among Rownt, information is the greatest trade good, so I can’t give it away.”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to get you in trouble,” Haru said as he mentally reordered his budget and considered how he might pull a few strings to get access to the boutique goods Munson appeared to favor. 

“I wouldn’t be in trouble; I would, however, kick myself for missing a great opportunity for profit.”

This meeting had gone sideways, and that left Haru feeling wrong-footed and awkward. And yet Munson, a submissive subordinate with a long history of abuse, crossed his legs at the ankles and let his gaze travel the room with open curiosity. Haru watched him. 

The changes in Munson went far beyond the physical. Unlike most people raised on one of the continents, Munson appeared to have more patience with silence, and that had not been noted in any of the evaluation paperwork. Haru had read everything Command had on Munson, back to day one. The intake staff had reported that young Munson was fidgety and uncomfortable, although they had noted that he was barely old enough to sign up for service, and fear likely contributed to the lack of focus. His later evaluations had followed a similar theme, although Lieutenant Spooner had reported that Liam’s hyperactivity and occasional lapses of judgment were paired with a rare brilliance at language. 

However, the man in Haru’s office had a calm strength and an aura that made Haru wish he had thought to prepare a tea. Eventually, however, Munson did react to the long silence. He slowly turned his attention to Haru, and he raised his eyebrows in a clear query.

While convention and propriety would have Haru avoid certain subjects, he had learned to trust his gut. So he spoke his mind. “You are not what I expected.”

That definitely caught Munson’s attention. “Oh?”

“You are not what I think of as a submissive.”

“And have you known many submissives?”

Haru pursed his lips. “I am from Nihon, the land where the sun begins. We have a certain respect for submissive personalities.”

Munson appeared surprised at that announcement and he took a few seconds to answer with a doubtful, “Do you?”

“Yes,” Haru said. “Entertainers will host meetings and ease the conversations of more aggressive guests by bringing a submissive energy and redirecting the discussion when appropriate.”

“That sounds like someone feigning submissiveness, not a submissive.”

Haru had to admit that was a possibility. “Perhaps. However I had assumed that those who chose to become hosts did so because of their submissive natures.” Haru remembered the older woman his father had always hired to handle business meetings. Ichi’s gentle conversation and tea service would smooth over the most pointed arguments.

Munson tilted his head. “I would be intensely uncomfortable trying to manage Ondry if he were in a mood to speak aggressively with another. I imagine most submissives would. I would feel my proper place would be to either avoid interfering with Ondry’s anger or to help him find more creative ways to express it.”

“Which implies that the hosts I have known and employed use the mannerisms of submission to avoid inciting more aggression,” Haru said, following Munson’s logic to the conclusion.

Munson smiled without answering. 

“Would you call it surprising that you, as a submissive, chose to sign up to fight?” Haru couldn’t imagine Ichi raising a weapon, but if Munson was right, she had used her mannerism to control those in the meeting instead. He wondered what she would have said if he had come to her with this same conversation. No doubt she would have smiled and skillfully guided him to another topic.

“I wouldn’t have signed up for the military if I hadn’t been desperate.”

“You were escaping an abuser,” Haru said. Now he was on wildly dangerous territory. If Munson chose to take offense to any of this General Darfaor would likely skin Haru alive and leave his carcass out front for a warning to all other colonels who might interfere with his plans for Rownt trade.

“I was,” Munson agreed easily. He leaned back and braced his huge hands on his knees. “You’re shocked that I’m not acting damaged or lost.”

“I’m surprised you appear so assertive,” Haru corrected him.

“Because I’m a lowly lieutenant or because I’m submissive.”

Haru shook his head. “I do not think of you as a lieutenant. You are tuk-ranked, and I respect that. Lieutenant is just a word on your paperwork to make the accountants happy when they process your pay.”

“So you believe a submissive is not assertive?”

Haru hesitated to make such a blunt statement.

Munson chuckled. “Zach Mora is submissive. If Command hadn’t asked for a volunteer, none of you would have known it.” Munson stared at Haru for long seconds before he continued. “The only submissives you notice are the ones who have been damaged by abusive partners or life in general. The timid soul you think of as a submissive is actually just a frightened soul. A submissive person is someone who gives everything to someone else—their passion, their anger, their strength. If I’m weak, then I weaken Ondry. To be the best submissive I can, I want to be strong. But you people are so busy making assumptions that you don’t believe the aggressive, powerful person sitting next to you might have given himself to another.”

Haru’s thoughts turned to his father. Ryota Ito had been a powerful business leader with a reputation for shredding his political and business rivals. However, Haru remembered how he had devoted himself to his wife. When Haru’s mother had died of cancer, something in his father had broken. He had turned his business over to Haru’s older sister and retired from the world. Within the year he had wasted away, following his wife to the next world. The doctors had no medical explanation, only softly spoken whispers of a broken heart.

Haru had a moment of kensho—an epiphany where the world reordered itself and a person gained a glimpsed of a deeper reality. Haru never expected Munson to provide such a clear insight into the universe or Haru’s own family.

Perhaps Munson and the Rownt were travelers on the Eightfold Path. His mind made another sharp, unexpected connection.  Haru thought of the Muromachi period statue of Aizen Myo-o that Tsang had for sale in his antique shop. Haru had tried for years to buy the beautiful, handcrafted piece of Nihon history. The ancient craftsman had lovingly carved every fold of fabric into the hard wood so even the weave of the cloth was represented. But that god with his ability to turn lust into spiritual awakening had never wanted to come home with Haru, or at least that’s what Tsang had said. The man was particular about who bought his pieces. He had happily sold Haru other antiques, but never Aizen Myo-o.

“Would Rownt consider an introduction to be a proper trade good?” Haru asked.

Munson sat up. “Introductions are some of the best trade goods, assuming that you would introduce me to someone useful.”

“Charles Tsang,” Haru said, even though Munson hadn’t yet offered goods in return. “He’s an art dealer specializing in antiques, and he has a statue I believe you would find value in, although I cannot guarantee he will sell it to you.”

“Introductions are never guarantees.”

Haru stood. “Let me call my car, and we can go and visit him. You should tell him how misguided Command is on the issue of submissives. He would be amused.”

“So, he’s not a fan of Command?” Munson asked as he stood.

Haru frowned. “I’m not sure he’s a fan of the human race in general.” Haru wasn’t even convinced he was a member of it. The man was eccentric. “But on the way over, I’ll tell you the history of Aizen Myo-o. He’s one of the great kings of wisdom. Tsang has a statue of him that museums have tried and failed to purchase from him.”

“Really?” Munson definitely sounded interested now. “On the way to his shop, I’ll tell you about the Imshee. It turns out that they found the genetic key to maximizing an individual’s height.”

“The Imshee?” Haru had not expected to land the holy grail of trade.

“They angered Ondry, and making me physically match him was their way of apologizing for making a huge mistake. Command probably needs to know about them because they’re in the neighborhood, and they have some very strange ideas about humans.”

“Wait. How can they have ideas about us? Have they encountered humans?”

“That is another long story. After you tell me about Aizen Myo-o, I’ll talk to you about persistence hunting.”

“About what?”

“This may take a while. I hope you don’t have meetings this afternoon.”

Haru did, with General Dafaor. However, the general would forgive him if the trade was a success. “Let me have my aide cancel my afternoon and get the car.”