The Earthmen have kept their promises. The mining equipment is quiet, almost silent, and after its initial installment, it has harvested and sent rocks with almost no supervision. Meanwhile, the Ten Tribes have reaped the benefits of their deal: they have new tools, new plants to study, and, should they ever want them, doctors and teachers to train their youth.
She smiles down at the bundle in her arms. To the others, the leaders and the women of the village, he is Akaar first, the other parts of his name mere whims on the part of a clever Teer's wife eager to make a strong alliance with the Earthmen. But to her, the strongest part of the name isn't Akaar, but Leonard. At ceremonies and official gatherings, she cannot hear the entire name without imagining a slight stress on the first, nasal "Le." "Leonard James Akaar." A strong opening for a name. A fine beginning for a life.
She paces around her tent with the child. She needn't be watching him; there are servants for that. She needn't be walking, either, especially so soon after giving birth. But she has been restless lately. She crosses the floor, trying to imagine hard, craggy stone where there is only ridiculously soft carpeting. If she breathes deeply enough, she can almost taste the mountain air.
Of course, she won't return there, at least not anytime soon. She is the regent of a Teer, and a Teer's widow besides. She is important, fragile. Not to be lost. She's sick of it.
But her son will have freedom. He'll be a warrior, expected to roam around the planet, sign treaties and wage wars, sire sons of his own while defending women of his own. He will be important, someone who is listened to and respected. They think of him as Akaar's son, but he isn't. He's Ma-Coy's.
Ma-Coy had ideas, ideas that she doesn't quite understand. Maybe she isn't any more ready than the people around her. But her son will be. She will teach him to respect doctors as his advisors will teach him to respect warriors. Perhaps he will invite the Earthmen back one day, take them up on their offer. If nothing else, he will think of it. He will consider it, not as Akaar would have but as she does, with eyes opened by experience and the attention of someone who cares about the future.
These Earthmen, and the Klingons with whom they fought, have warriors, too. But while their ways are different, their technology is perhaps more so. The Ten Tribes will need both the advancements in war promised by Kras and the advancements in culture promised by Ma-Coy. Her son will see that they get both, preparing them for a life among other races, among the stars.
"Eleen!"
She turns, flushing with a strange sense of guilt. "Yes, what is it?"
One of the older women from the village enters and kneels. Almost carelessly, Eleen gestures for her to rise.
"What is it?" she repeats.
"The Teer of the Fifth Tribe requests an audience with the Teer and his regent."
"Of course. I will be there shortly."
The woman doesn't move, staring expectantly at the bundle in her arms. Regretfully, she surrenders the child to be bathed and dressed.
A ceremonial head-covering, a bright blue cloak and pale makeup prepare her for the audience. 'What will it be this time? Rights to some hunting ground? A duel, perhaps, to be fought by surrogates? Maybe he merely wants to talk. He's been watching the Earthmen's equipment closely. Perhaps he has ideas about it.' Excited at the prospect, she follows her formally wrapped (and thoroughly annoyed) infant son to the audience tent.
"Leonard James Akaar, and regent!" announces a young guard, somewhat ironically. It means little to her: it's her son's name that is important, not hers, and the man is nothing if not respectful of his Teer. 'Soon, he will come here alone to decide matters of state. I will have no more to do but wait for an honorable death.'
Strangely, the thought is anything but relaxing.
The Teer of the Fifth Tribe is speaking. With an effort, she rejoins him.
"… clearly some sort of weapon. Maab was right: we cannot trust them, just as we could not trust the Klingon."
"How do you know it is a weapon?" she asks, her face blank.
"We don't, but what else would take so much time to build and operate so ceaselessly? They claim to be taking only rocks that have some value to them, but is it not these rocks that make up our planet? They are stealing our world, which – "
"These accusations are unfounded," she replies, rising. "The Earthmen have never been false with us. Maab lived to regret his distrust of them. I hope that you would do the same."
A part of her notices the detached, imperious tone of her voice. 'I sound like Akaar,' she thought vaguely. 'Like a Teer.' The thought both exhilarates and shames her. 'I cannot be Teer. I am only here for Ma-Coy's son. Our son.'
"Of course, Regent. However, as Teer, and as one who is in alliance with your tribe, I considered it suitable to tell you my suspicions." Is it her imagination, or is his eyebrow raised?
She sits. "I thank you for your openness in dealings."
He bows his head, somehow imbuing the gesture with subtle disrespect. "Naturally. Maab listened to the Klingon, but the rest of us did not hear his words. I had forgotten."
"Indeed."
For the next hour, they speak of small, irrelevant details, leaving her to wonder of the Fifth Tribe's intentions. When he leaves, she returns to her tent and her son.
'They will grow more suspicious, and may perhaps attack the mining equipment. But the Earthmen have undoubtedly planned for such a contingency. In any case, Capellans are, as a rule, men of their word. None of the Teers will fight their deal. Nevertheless, I had best find some way to assuage their concerns.'
She paced her room, back and forth, holding her child and thinking of the future, of a world in the skies.