Stron’s own mother was one of many. She truly believed mixing races (or something) was an awful idea that would ruin the Kantenans. it went against their religious beliefs, it was heresy.
While his mother was a bit of an extremist, she was not alone. If it worked, it would very much affect people like his mother the most.
And if it didn't work, Khalzin would likely be ruined. He might even have to leave Kantenan.
Stron glanced out into the horizon, just beyond the forcefield of their patio. The location, a public meeting pod, could be as private or as public as the person who scheduled it wanted it to be. The forcefield that surrounded the pod could be made transparent or opaque, depending on the user’s wishes.
They were currently set for transparent, displaying the world around them. In the distance, pods lifted off from their docking port and cruised through the sky. City towers broke through the treetops. The leaves from errant branches that crawled up the buildings waved as the winds blew through the air. The sunlight dimmed, casting an orange glow on everything, making normally silvery-white buildings shine golden in the light. The wind slapped at the forcefields. Debris in the air hit the forcefield, making it have tiny sparkles all around them.
It was a lovely night, perfect for a date.
While a pleasure cruise would be nice, this wasn't a date.
This was a meeting to finalize plans.
Stron kept it in mind to add to his rotation of locations. Females would probably appreciate the aesthetic of it. He didn't care, and he doubted the others did either. It was a neutral location for the four of them to meet.
They were well protected, as four Gol-Vetts would be. Guards stood outside their pod to keep them all safe.
Not that they were defenseless, but it was protocol more than anything.
Being sons of Coalition members had some privilege, after all, but with that also came some negative attention. While threats were uncommon, they still occasionally happened. Gol-Vetts are expected to be the future of the Kantenans. They have value to the society.
Stron took another sip of his drink and watched his friends.
“You are excited,” Fiviel said, staring at Khalzin.
Khalzin nodded. “I don't get many opportunities to prove my father wrong.” He took a long drink off his ale, then smacked the cup on the table. “I needed that.”
Khalzin had long-standing disagreements with his father. It was widely known that the two of them did not see science in the same way.
Amusing, since science was very straightforward, Stron had always thought.
Evidently, in Khalzin’s case, the answers came from how one interpreted the data.
“Is that what this is about for you? Proving that your science is better than your father's?” Dhomhes asked as he picked up one of the bites of food off the tray floating in the center of their pod.
“No,” Khalzin said. A moment of silence, and then, “Somewhat,” he amended.
Dhomhes glanced at Fiviel. “Is it too late to back out?”
“Yes,” both Fiviel and Khalzin said, Khalzin louder than Fiviel.
Dhomhes bowed his head. “Any truly honorable Gol-Vett wouldn't break his word.”
“Are you an honorable Gol-Vett?” Khalzin asked.
Dhomhes smiled.
“I have my reasons for everything,” Dhomhes said. “But I will not forfeit my word. I promised I would make an attempt with your females.”
“Attempt is more than just a greeting,” Fiviel said.
“I can greet. I may even bed a few, if they appeal to me. But it doesn’t mean we’ll mate.”
“You’re going to seduce them?” Khalzin asked.
“Well, if?—”
