June 11, 2440
The T-24 settled onto the prepared landing area at the Blue House a few minutes before seven.
Matt felt a slight change in vibration through his shoes. The smooth hum of the countergravity system diminished, and the shuttle was still.
Outside, nobody had to hold down a skirt or turn away from flying grit. The President of Korea stood beside her husband while the rear door opened and the ramp lowered toward them.
Matt looked around the cabin.
Three wives. Eight young people. Everyone dressed, everyone present, and Maja had apparently decided to leave whatever she had been about to say until later.
“Here we go.”
He went first, in a formal Filipino barong and dark trousers. T’mari followed in V’ren formal brown, then T’monn and L’tani. Behind them came four cadets in white, Maja in purple, and Sael, D’stan, and Chem in brown.
Twelve people walked down the ramp.
No escort had accompanied them across Seoul. No motorcade waited beyond the grounds, and no additional delegation emerged from the shuttle. The flight crew stayed aboard. Someone would feed them later.
The President stepped forward.
“Freeholder Marmaduke. Welcome.”
“Madam President.”
Her handshake was firm. Her husband greeted him next, and then the President turned to T’mari and welcomed her separately.
The cameras caught that distinction. Matt was glad of it. Tomorrow T’mari would be discussing matters on which her own position on the Trust Board mattered considerably more than being his wife.
T’monn and L’tani followed her through the introductions.
Kevin had scarcely reached the next group of waiting guests before Korea’s Minister of Defense smiled at him.
“Cadet Wood.”
“General.”
The minister shook his hand, then held it for a moment while he inspected the white uniform.
“Your father has had an eventful few weeks.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So have you, from what I hear.”
“A few things happened.”
The general’s wife laughed and greeted him with considerably less ceremony. She had eaten at Leonard and Marie’s table often enough to know Kevin before he had acquired either a uniform or any public significance.
Amazon and Korea had good relations. On the family’s many visits to Boston, Leonard and Marie generally hosted them for at least a few dinners. Kevin knew the minister as someone who could discuss defense policy with his father for an hour, then remember to ask him about rowing.
He knew their daughter too.
Seo-yeon stood beside her mother, smiling at him.
“Hello, Kevin.”
“Hi.”
She looked at his uniform.
“That is new.”
“Most things are.”
“I am still older than you.”
“Six months.”
“Still.”
He laughed, and the familiar sound of it seemed to please her mother as much as the uniform had pleased her father.
Before Mall, Kevin had thought Seo-yeon one of the prettiest girls he had ever met. Seeing her again was unexpectedly easy. She knew what he had been like before everyone started introducing him as a first-contact cadet.
Matt caught the end of the exchange as the reception line moved on. Kevin was already less stiff than he had been on the ramp.
Good.
The rest of the young people made their introductions without incident. Maja spoke to the President in Korean. The President answered her in the same language, and Maja’s expression brightened before she remembered the cameras and recovered her formal composure.
Inside, eleven tables waited for the twelve visitors.
Matt and T’mari were seated together with the President and her husband. Each of the other ten had been assigned a different table.
T’monn went to the Surgeon General and his wife. L’tani joined the Minister of Science, whose career in biochemistry gave them considerably more to discuss than his ministerial title alone suggested.
Kevin found his place beside Seo-yeon, with her parents close enough for her father to continue questioning him about his training.
Maja’s place was at the education minister’s table.
Y’kem had been matched with people involved in aviation and flight training. MJ joined communications engineers; Rita sat with guests whose work involved broadcasting and communications. Sael found herself among people who understood clothing and textiles. Chem’s table included a guest who worked with animals, while D’stan had been placed with people interested in engineering and technical education.
The Koreans had read more than the names on the guest list.
Arrangements for translation, dietary requirements, and the differences in dining customs had been settled while the delegation was still in Japan. Nobody was discovering an unfamiliar piece of tableware for the first time under a camera.
Matt stood behind his chair for a moment, watching the group disperse.
T’monn was already listening intently to the Surgeon General. The science minister had drawn out L’tani’s chair and was asking her something that made her forget to look back. Across the room, Maja greeted the education minister in Korean.
“They did their homework,” Matt said.
“Yes,” T’mari said.
He held her chair, then sat beside her.
From here he could see most of the room. For once, nobody seemed to need him in any of its conversations.
The President noticed where he was looking.
“We thought each of your guests might enjoy meeting people in their own fields.”
“I think you have just made it difficult to get two of my wives back.”
“Only two?” her husband asked.
T’mari smiled and unfolded her napkin.
The President’s welcome was brief enough that the food reached them while it was still worth eating. She spoke of the speed of events since first contact and of the work awaiting both sides in the morning. She also welcomed the younger visitors by name.
At the end, the room raised its glasses.
Then the conversations resumed.
“You have had a very busy month,” the President said to T’mari.
“I was told Earth was normally quieter.”
“Who told you that?”
“Matthew.”
The President looked at him.
“It was,” Matt said.
“Before you?”
He considered her for a moment while her husband began to laugh.
“All right,” Matt said. “That was good.”
T’mari looked delighted.
The President let the laughter settle before returning to her.
“I have read the Trust filings. Our lawyers understand the corporate structure. What I want to understand better is how the offices inside it relate to one another.”
T’mari nodded.
“The captains retain command aboard their ships. The Houses retain their Lords. The Trust provides our civil government in Sol.”
“And the High Lord?”
“Stands above the Houses that have acknowledged him.”
“Which, in this case, means Matthew.”
“Yes.”
Matt set down his glass.
“Shogun and daimyo is a useful comparison. It gets you closer than treating every title as another word for king.”
The President nodded. She had been looking for the relationship between the offices, and that gave her one she could use.
“Your captains have acknowledged him as well.”
“Yes,” T’mari said. “Their shipboard authority continues. The Trust confirms it.”
“So we need to know which office can commit the Trust to an agreement.”
“The Board governs the Trust,” T’mari said. “Matthew is its interim chief executive.”
“Interim,” Matt repeated.
The President’s husband smiled.
“You are attached to that qualification.”
“Very.”
“But when you leave that position,” the President said, “you will still hold two voting seats on the Board.”
“Yes.”
“One as High Lord and one as Freeholder.”
T’mari answered. “They represent different offices. The High Lord position is not hereditary. The Freeholder position is.”
“And the Freeholder seat remains while most Trust citizens live on land governed by the Freeholder.”
“Yes.”
The President turned to Matt.
“How much of the settlement program will fall within that arrangement?”
“The first thousand settlements.”
Her husband lowered his glass.
Matt continued. “They will be built on land I acquired from the guarantors. My personal fiefdom, governed under the same Freehold law as my existing territory.”
“The Trust is building on your land.”
“Yes.”
“And those holdings become part of what your successor governs.”
“Yes.”
The President glanced toward T’mari, then back at him.
“That is a considerable concentration of authority.”
“Yes.”
This time there was no smile with it.
She held his gaze for a moment, then nodded.
“And the Trust’s domestic law?”
“Freehold customary law provides the working basis,” T’mari said. “We still have codes to complete. Becoming a corporation on Earth did not finish that work for us.”
“But the external legal standing is already established under the Charter.”
“Yes.”
That distinction needed very little explanation in Korea. Fifty-seven Korean corporations belonged to the CCC, and hundreds of foreign members operated in the country. The unfamiliar part was the combination of authorities within this particular member, arriving with an entire people to settle.
The President returned to her dinner.
“Then tomorrow we can spend less time asking you to explain the same offices again.”
“I would appreciate that,” Matt said.
“We can ask harder questions.”
He picked up his glass.
“I assumed.”
At T’monn’s table, the Surgeon General had reached the question she had been expecting.
“How much of your medical technology transfers directly to humans?”
“Directly?”
He nodded.
“Less than people hope.”
He considered that without appearing disappointed.
“The biological similarities help us,” T’monn continued. “They do not remove the need for evidence.”
“And where the evidence does not exist?”
“We collect it.”
“That sounds familiar.”
“It should.”
His wife looked between them.
“You both seem rather pleased to have found someone who will say that at dinner.”
T’monn smiled.
“It saves a great deal of time.”
At the science minister’s table, L’tani was discovering the same advantage.
He had asked about protein expression and then listened closely enough to frame a second question around the qualification in her answer. She asked him something in return. Within a few minutes, the minister’s interest in her work and her interest in his had made the conversation sufficiently technical that they occasionally had to stop and explain themselves to their other table companions.
Neither seemed to mind.
When L’tani finally looked across the room, Matt was watching her. He raised his glass slightly.
She smiled and turned back to the minister.
The education minister had begun with Maja’s schoolwork.
“I understand you are an excellent student,” he said in Korean. “And that you were studying our language before this visit was arranged.”
“Yes. At school.”
She answered in Korean too. She had been doing so since the introductions, with only an occasional pause to find a word.
“What made you choose it?”
“It was the language I had the least of.”
He looked interested.
Maja took a moment to put the next part together.
“Only about five percent of Marshall is of Korean ancestry. I did not hear as much Korean as the others.”
“The other languages?”
She nodded.
“Mandarin at home, to keep up with my father. Polish at work, to keep up with my grandfather. Spanish, English, and Japanese to keep up with everyone locally.”
The minister’s eyes moved briefly toward another guest before returning to her.
“That is a considerable amount of keeping up.”
“They do not all talk about the same things.”
He laughed, and Maja smiled at having managed the answer without first composing it in English.
“How much has the interface changed your Korean?”
“A lot. My Japanese too. They are both at B2 now.”
“And you prefer to use Korean tonight?”
“I need the practice.”
She paused, searching for the rest of the thought. The minister waited instead of completing it for her.
“The interface helps me know it,” she said at last. “I still need to talk to people.”
“Then please continue.”
He asked her about school in Marshall, and the conversation stayed mostly in Korean. Once, she used an English word when she could not find the one she wanted. Someone supplied it, she repeated it, and they continued.
Her amethysts moved against her neck whenever she turned toward another speaker.
Across the room, Kevin had discovered that his hosts had remembered something else about him.
The general’s wife watched him taste the first of the spicier dishes.
“Still?” she asked.
Kevin swallowed and smiled.
“Definitely.”
“I told them there was no need to make yours mild.”
“Thank you.”
He meant it. He liked the heat, but he liked the food underneath it too. After weeks of trying things because they were new, there was particular pleasure in recognizing flavors he had wanted to eat again.
Seo-yeon moved a dish closer to him.
“You used to like this.”
“I still do.”
“You have changed less than the uniform suggests.”
“Give him time,” her father said. “He has only just started telling us what he has been flying.”
Kevin put down his chopsticks.
“The yacht today, sir.”
“From Busan to Incheon?”
“Yes.”
“Under instruction?”
“Four instructors aboard.”
The general asked who had been doing what, and Kevin answered him carefully. This was familiar ground. The questions became more exact as they continued, and Kevin found himself sitting a little straighter without having to think about it.
Seo-yeon let them talk for a while before passing him another dish.
“You should eat that while it is hot.”
Her mother nodded toward the two of them.
“That is what happens at dinner with his father as well.”
“We do eventually feed people,” the general said.
“Marie helps.”
Kevin laughed.
The Blue House photographer, making a quiet circuit of the room, caught him turning toward Seo-yeon as she answered. The dish was between them; her father was still smiling at something his wife had said.
Later, the photograph would be cropped tightly enough to remove both parents.
The version showing two familiar young people enjoying dinner with her family would circulate first. By morning, other versions would be asking whether the first-contact cadet had found romance in Seoul. Their names would do considerably more work in those stories than anything either of them had actually said.
For the moment, Kevin was chiefly interested in getting another serving before the conversation returned to aviation.
At the President’s table, T’mari followed Matt’s glance toward Maja.
“She likes them,” she said.
“I know.”
Maja was listening to the education minister now, one hand resting near the amethysts at her throat.
Elsewhere, Sael’s copper ring was visible whenever she gestured. D’stan and Chem wore theirs just as openly, the yellow stones catching the light above the brown patina.
They had chosen to wear all three court gifts tonight. T’mari noticed and smiled.
T’mari returned to the conversation with the President’s husband. Matt took another look around the room, then gave the President his full attention when she asked about the next day’s schedule.
By dessert, conversations were running comfortably. After the plates began to clear, guests rose and moved between tables. Only then did the scattered members of the delegation begin to collect around one another again.
Maja reached Matt while he was finishing a conversation.
“The education minister knew about my grades.”
“I should hope so.”
“Before he asked about the skating.”
Matt smiled.
“Good.”
“We talked in Korean almost the whole time.”
“I saw.”
She looked pleased enough that he left it there.
At approximately nine-thirty, a Blue House official approached the President. She listened, then turned toward Matt and T’mari.
“They are ready for you.”
Matt set down his cup.
T’monn and L’tani would remain with the young people. The reception rooms still held plenty of guests who wanted to continue their conversations, and the briefing would be available on the feed.
“You can finish enjoying dinner,” Matt told Kevin. “We have the work part.”
Kevin glanced toward Seo-yeon’s family, then nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
Maja looked toward the doors.
“We get to watch?”
“The feed.”
“All of it?”
Matt looked at her.
“That sounded more threatening than you probably intended.”
She smiled sweetly.
He went with T’mari before she could improve on it.
The briefing room was full. Korean and international reporters sat behind their devices while photographers worked along the sides.
A Korean official explained the format. One question for Matthew Marmaduke concerning the V’ren Trust, one for T’mari, then one addressed to both. Afterward, Matthew would answer questions in his capacity as Freeholder.
The first reporter rose.
“Mr. Marmaduke, Korea has long experience with corporate citizenship and sovereignty. Is the Trust asking for a different legal status from other CCC members?”
“No.”
Matt waited until the reporter looked up from his notes.
“We registered under the Charter for Corporate Citizenship because it already provides the legal structure we need. Korea knows what admitting a member of the CCC means.”
He rested a hand beside the microphone.
“What is particular to us is the population we govern and the institutions we have to bring together. The Trust governs the V’ren population in Sol. A V’ren coming onto Earth agrees to become a citizen of the Trust. Captains continue to command their ships, the Houses retain their Lords, and the Board governs the corporation. For now, I am its interim chief executive.”
He glanced toward T’mari.
“There is a great deal of work involved in making those relationships function here. None of that requires Korea to invent a new category of sovereignty for us.”
The next question went to T’mari.
“Lady T’mari, what does the Trust want from Korea?”
“Partners.”
She gave the reporter time to look back at her.
“We need teachers, researchers, medical colleagues, and people who understand how to build and supply communities on this world. We have knowledge and capabilities that interest you. You have expertise we need.”
She looked across the room.
“This evening I watched our people talk to yours about that work. Tomorrow we will begin discussing proposals formally. Those proposals must be useful to both sides.”
The moderator selected a business correspondent for the joint question.
“If Korea declines to admit the Trust, will Korean businesses and institutions still be able to establish commercial or research relationships with it?”
T’mari answered first.
“Korea has the right to decide that it does not want a relationship with the Trust.”
Matt continued.
“And if that is Korea’s decision, we will have no diplomatic or commercial relationship. The same as any other CCC member Korea chooses not to do business with.”
Several reporters looked up.
“We are not proposing a special exception,” he said. “You understand the terms of corporate admission. Your own companies operate under them.”
T’mari spoke again.
“We would like to work with Korea. That requires Korea to choose to work with us.”
“If the answer is no,” Matt said, “then the answer is no. The facilities, partnerships, and training programs we need will be established elsewhere.”
He looked toward the correspondent who had asked the question.
“That is a consequence of having no relationship. It is also why both sides should understand the decision before making it.”
The moderator thanked them. There was a short pause while T’mari stepped away from the microphones and took a seat at the side of the room.
The official introduced Matthew Johnathan Boone Marmaduke in his capacity as Freeholder.
Matt remained where he was.
The first question came from a political correspondent.
“You have described the land intended for the first thousand Trust settlements as your personal fiefdom. What law will govern those settlements?”
“The same Freehold law that governs my existing territory. The land was acquired by me from the guarantors. The Trust’s settlement program does not change who governs that land.”
“Including when a resident has a dispute with you?”
“Including then. Outside arbitration is available for disputes against me or the Freehold. Columbia is one of the established options.”
He let that answer stand without a joke.
Another reporter asked about succession. Matt distinguished the inherited Freeholder office from the nonhereditary High Lord position, then explained the condition attaching the Freeholder’s Board seat to where Trust citizens lived.
The questions continued for half an hour. Reporters asked about land, settlement, authority, and the practical consequences of having the same man hold several different offices. Matt answered as Freeholder and referred questions about Trust decisions back to the institution responsible for them.
When the briefing ended, he found T’mari waiting near the door.
“You got your interim in,” she said.
“I intend to keep getting it in.”
She took his arm, and they returned to the reception rooms.
The young people had collected near T’monn, though L’tani was still finishing a conversation with the science minister. Kevin stood with Seo-yeon and her parents. They exchanged their goodbyes without needing another formal introduction.
The general shook Matt’s hand as well.
“Please give Leonard and Marie our regards.”
“I will.”
“And tell them their son gave a good account of himself.”
Kevin looked briefly as though he would prefer to be somewhere else, which pleased Matt more than another joke would have.
“I will tell them that too.”
The President and her husband accompanied the delegation outside.
“Thank you for dinner,” Matt said.
“Thank you for bringing people who had something to say to our guests.”
“I think several of them would stay if you let them.”
“We have noticed.”
She shook T’mari’s hand.
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” T’mari said.
The T-24 waited where they had left it. Twelve people crossed the landing area and walked up the rear ramp. Matt let the others go ahead, took a final look across the grounds, and followed them aboard.
The hatch closed. The countergravity hum deepened, and the shuttle rose smoothly into the Seoul night.
Maja settled into her seat.
“Hotel?”
“Hotel,” Matt said.
“Food?”
He turned to look at her.
Kevin, who had eaten well enough to earn the general’s wife’s approval, was suddenly paying attention too.
“You have both just spent several hours at dinner.”
“We did a lot of talking,” Maja said.
T’monn smiled.
“Feed them.”
Matt took out his phone and sent a message ahead. Food for the young people, and something hot for the flight crew when they got back.
T’mari leaned against him while he put it away.
Across the cabin, Maja had begun telling Rita about the education minister. Kevin was talking quietly to Y’kem. Sael held out her hand so Chem could compare the way their rings caught the cabin light, while D’stan watched over Chem’s shoulder.
All eight accounted for. His three wives with him.
Matt settled back beside T’mari as the shuttle turned toward the hotel.
