The Voices of Reason had once again returned to darken Xiatoktok’s office. The difference this time was that they were invited.

“I must say I’m surprised that you are asking us to invest in your new venture, President Xiatoktok. I rather thought you would fight tooth and nail to keep us out.” Xiatampan twiddled his thumb ring. Xiatoktok slightly regretted that the man never took him up on the offer to have it resized.

“I am not asking you to invest. I would, in fact, be delighted if you decided not to invest. However, since you are already maneuvering your proxies to buy in, I thought I would skip the nonsense and just hand you the offer sheet. These are the terms. Take them or don’t.”

“I suspect that your sales technique may be the reason you are struggling for funding.” Xiatamqi smiled softly. Her weighted club rested prominently at her hip.

“We are oversubscribed.” Xiatoktok grinned.

“I was referring to the Bank.” Xiatamqi grinned right back, only hers was considerably nastier.

“Oh that. Well, if you haven’t done the math on that yet, you really should. I see budget surpluses in the not too distant future.”

“Oh this should be delightful. Go on, shock me.” Xiatampan hammed it up.

“How could I possibly shock such luminaries? Although, Xiatamrou, I am surprised that you are in the city. I thought your companies’ would be in the field?”

“Some are, but most have been hired by the city to defend the walls.” The old mercenary shrugged casually. “Suits me to be on campaign from my own home. Though I’m a little curious myself. Just how-”

“President Xiatoktok? Xia Gentian is here to see you.”

Everyone froze momentarily at this staggering breach of propriety.

“All pettiness aside, Xiatoktok, I really expected better of you.”

“I assure you, Xiatamqui, that she does know better. She will have a good reason for this.”

The Duty Secretary nodded at that.

“Yes, President. I did tell her that you were in a meeting and could not be disturbed, but she said for this, you must be. And she could prove it. May I send her in?”

“Please do.” His tone wasn’t ominous. It didn’t have to be.

Gentian walked in and the room—----------------------- Twisted. The thing she was carrying—---distorted time—------- burned like a sun—--------------------shimmered like oil on water.

“Gentian, what the hell is that?!”

“A loan. From an Old Man.”

This got another, longer pause.

“We’ll keep the offer sheet and be in touch. We have another appointment and cannot stay even a moment longer.” Xiatampan was striding to the door without looking back. The Rest of the Voices of Reason were close behind him.

The spear lay across the table in Xiatokja’s study. The spear itself wasn’t very long, as spears go. A bit less than two meters- six feet? Maybe even a hair less than that. The shaft of the spear appeared to be a pale, almost gray, wood, likely ash. You could see where hands had worn it smooth, where it had picked up nicks and scratches over what was clearly a long and eventful career. The head was a steel socket attached with pins to the shaft, rising into a flared diamond shape with a raised center ridge for added strength. The edges of the spear were razor sharp, and the point was wicked.

And that was it. That’s all there was to the spear. It appeared to be a well made, steel tipped spear, designed for an era where chainmail would be a feature of the battlefield. There was no reason it should be violently twisting time around it. There was certainly no obvious reason for the Patriarch to loan it to a new concubine in the family, no matter how much he approved of her educational efforts. Xiatokja was going over it with a magnifying lens, as well as more subtle tools.

“I don’t understand… a lot of things, actually. But I keep coming back to his threat to eat you. The two of you are of the Main Line. He is the Patriarch because he enforces the rules, most particularly that the Main Line is not to be harmed.” Gentian’s voice trailed off. Xiatoktok sighed.

“The Xia fuel their abilities, those we inherit from our Legacy, through the manipulation of accumulated time. “Time,” being something of an illusion, and a function of perception. And yes, there is an awful lot of math to back that statement up, and no, I don’t want to get into it right now.” Xiatoktok waved his hand, indicating that he was moving on.

“So, since that is the case, you have to ask “How do we eat time?” Two ways. Passively, where we are the focus of other people’s attention and efforts. And actively, where we shatter someone’s ability to perceive time and then forcibly absorb the time they accumulated into ourselves. While I have read that it is possible to absorb time in the way that you describe the Patriarch doing, I have never seen it done or heard of anyone I personally knew doing it.”

“I now have even more questions, but…”

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“Who’s got more time? Me or you?”

“The Brand Wielder naturally has more time.” Gentian smiled prettily at ’Tok. Who, to her surprise, shook his head.

“Yes, but not for the reason you think. “Time” exists with equal reality in the future as well as the past. You could theoretically outlive my total lifespan, and would therefore have more “time,” even if, in your limited perspective, you haven’t accumulated it yet. But your basic point is correct. Think about it like this- a Xia, particularly one of the main line, has inherited a selection of genetic traits that make them extremely resistant to poison, disease, and most artifacts of aging until just before their death. We sit on a technological stockpile that, even when there is no technology base to work from, gives us a material edge in shelter, food production and combat. Add on a legacy of being able to absorb other people’s time, and what conclusion do you come to?”

Gentian thought quickly, and quickly grew horrified. “You absorb more passive time, because you are at the top of a clan hierarchy, and probably a social hierarchy too. You have very long lives, so you are accumulating time that way too, except that the “time” is accumulated from the moment of your conception. You are also, theoretically, actively increasing the amount of stockpiled time by feeding off of others directly. All of you are extremely time-rich. And too weak to fight back. Perfect prey for the elders.”

“Who are vicious about ensuring a stable food supply. You might, or might not, have noticed all the vacancies at the top of the Clan hierarchy. Well, when the coup for the bank was launched, a lot of very senior Xia found themselves at the mercy of the Patriarch and their former comrades on the Business Council. Normally, those people would be completely untouchable under the rules, however-” Xiatoktok explained, more calmly than he felt.

“They had broken the rules. They had lost their protection. They were… fair game…”

“Remember what you said about loving to watch the drama, and how I said it was a lot less fun from the inside?”

“It’s… all to see who gets thrown to the predators first. The strongest throw down the weakest, or the least cunning. Generation after generation, until you stand at the pinnacle or die.” Gentian stumbled over her words. Like she couldn’t wrap her head around what she was saying.

“Essentially, yes.” Xiatokja spoke without looking up from the spear. “Although it’s not quite as bad as it sounds. The Xia have embraced a survival strategy of numbers and cooperation, so we aren’t constantly eating one another. You also need to remember that it is FUCKING HARD to forcibly disassociate someone from all the time they have perceived or received, both in their past and future. In fact, I’m not sure how many in the Tok generation can manage it at all.” ’Ja looked up with a grimace. “Quite a few in the Tam generation, of course.”

“The Voices of Reason.”

“Among others, yes. They didn’t get to be the Business Council’s enforcers because of their charming personalities.”

“But… Why insist that you learn how to eat? Why create more competition for food?”

Both ’Tok and ’Ja looked over at Gentian.

“Sweetie. Do you really believe that we can compete with the Patriarch?”

“I want to.” Gentian whispered.

“Don’t. He would kill us at once if we could. He wants us to learn how to feed to motivate the others of our generation. Make sure the next crop comes in well.” ’Ja’s voice was gentle, but unyielding. “That’s life in the Clan. Most of us die of old age, accident, the usual sort of thing. Very few die to violence, and fewer still die because of the predation of the elder generations. But some do, and it scares the hell out of us. All you can do is try and get strong enough to fight off the big predators, and scare away the little ones.”

Xiatokja stood up from the desk. “Pick up the spear please, sweetie.”

Gentian did so. It still felt a little heavy, but not uncomfortable.

“Spears, particularly short, stabbing spears like this, are usually pretty light and used one handed with a shield. The combination is extremely effective at certain technology levels. This spear appears to have a steel head and some quantity of polisher’s silver in it. Why, I couldn’t say. There are no active radioactive effects that I can find, and if there is anything chemical, nanotech, or biological, well, I can’t find it either. No maker's mark, no obvious evidence of where it was made. I can’t explain it. Just… always keep it next to you.” ’Ja shrugged helplessly. “I’ll have the guards drill you on the basic spear combat. Easy to learn, hard to master, or so I hear.”

“But what are the two of you going to do?”

“We aren’t starting from scratch, dear. We do have books, and I did get a demonstration from the Patriarch himself.” Xiatoktok reassured her. “No, the challenge is finding suitable victims.”

“Pardon?!”

“People with enough time to make harvesting easy, but not so important that they will be missed. It’s an absolute bastard to find suitable victims in Cold Garden, as you can imagine. Everybody just… cares so damn much. It’s enough to drive you mad.”

A few days later-

“Where are you off to, sweety?” Xiatokja asked Gentian.

“There is a rally and prayer chorus at the Dillwater school tonight. Apparently, Teacher Dillwater caught ague, so the neighborhood is coming around. It seemed like a good time and reason to hold a rally, so the ladies and I organized something. Apparently, a lot of kids are coming too.”

“That’s wonderful. Bring a couple of extra guards tonight.” Xiatokja looked like she was going to say more, then looked away.

“Mistress?”

“Not yet, I’m working on him. Although, and don’t tell him I said this, “She Who Walks In Fire And Shadow” is a fantastic title, if cumbersome.”

Gentian chuckled. “It is that.” She paused a moment. “If I may, what were you going to add?”

“It’s… not nothing, but… when you get to be a Xia of a certain age or ability, you start getting a sense of significant people or things. They weigh more in your senses. It’s a fairly basic part of the legacy, and even some juniors get the knack for it early.” Xiatokja waved her hand. “It feels like "heavy" weather out. The problem is that I can’t narrow it down. It could be that something major happens in the city tonight, but what and to whom? No idea. Could be one fella sitting in his tub has a breakthrough, and the next thing you know, agriculture takes a huge step forward.”

Xiatokja smiled slightly at Gentian, and let her eyes dip down as she sipped her tea from a bone china cup. When she looked up, her eyes were utterly devoid of warmth, freezing lasers boring into Gentian’s soul. “It could be that fanatic assassins butcher the notorious concubine of the grand Xia Leech, Xiatoktok. With unimaginable consequences.”

Gentian couldn’t meet her gaze. “I will bring them.”

“Good. You are doing good things, Gentian. We are proud of you. ’Tok won’t admit it, but he’s smitten with you.” She stood and lightly embraced the taller woman, before tilting her head up for a kiss. “I’m pretty taken with you too. So you stay safe out there.”

“Yes. I will do that too.”