to file a suit in the Guild Court to seek relief.”
“On what grounds, exactly?”
“On the grounds that civilization is collapsing, Lady Kiva.”
Kiva glanced over at Senia Fundapellonan, who was a lawyer for the House of Nohamapetan—well, had been one, until the Countess Nohamapetan accidentally had her shot while trying to assassinate Kiva, at which point Senia had switched sides and come to work for Kiva, who was now in charge of the House of Nohamapetan because the countess was in jail on a count of treason. Kiva had put Fundapellonan in charge of the House of Nohamapetan’s legal department, and also Kiva and Fundapellonan were totally doing it and doing it well—really, it was all kind of sudden and complicated—and Fundapellonan read her glance perfectly. “The contracts between our houses have no clause for any alleged collapse of civilization, Mr. Heuvel,” she said.
“They do, however, have clauses regarding force majeure,” Heuvel said.
“Force fucking majeure?” Kiva exclaimed.
“I didn’t put the word ‘fucking’ in there, but otherwise, yes.”
“Force majeure is for when an unspotted space rock suddenly destroys a whole fucking habitat,” Kiva said.
“That is one example,” Heuvel agreed. “We argue the collapse of civilization is another.”
“The key word is ‘suddenly.’”
“Actually, the keywords are ‘collapse of civilization.’”
“Lady Kiva is correct,” Fundapellonan interjected. “Force majeure is about unforeseen and unexpected events.”
“Yes, like the collapse of our entire civilization,” Heuvel said.
“Fucking years from now,” Kiva said.
“During a time span in which significant elements of the contracts between our houses will not be able to be executed, exposing the House of Wolfe to significant civil and financial liability,” Heuvel said, raising a finger for emphasis. “If the current best estimates for the condition of the Flow streams within the Interdependency are correct, then the House of Wolfe will, through no fault of its own and entirely contingent upon forces that are not within its control, begin to default on its contractual obligations in ways that expose it to unacceptable levels of risk.”
“Which is your problem.”
Heuvel nodded. “I agree it is a problem. I don’t agree that it is only our problem. And the House of Wolfe is willing to go to court to make that argument.”
“The Guild Court is not exactly known for its receptiveness to novel interpretation of contractual law,” Fundapellonan pointed out. “There’s several hundred years of case law that strongly suggests that if you file this suit, what will happen is that you’re laughed out of court and your client will end up paying our legal fees plus a significant penalty.”
“That’s one possibility,” Heuvel said. “The other possibility is that the Guild Court will recognize that several hundred years of case law means nothing when the Interdependency is confronting an existential threat to its existence that literally has no parallel in all of recorded history.”
“You’re expecting a lot from the Guild Court.”
Heuvel shrugged. “They are trapped by this collapse just as much as any of the rest of us. We’re off the map entirely.” He turned his attention back to Kiva. “But as I said at the outset, we don’t actually want to have to go to court at all. We’re ready to renegotiate in good will, to the benefit of both of our houses.”
“That’s not what you said.” Kiva stared back stonily at Heuvel. “What you said was, the House of Wolfe intends to renegotiate these contracts, or go to court.”
“Yes,” Heuvel said. “So?”
“So, you came here to tell me what was going to happen, not to ask for my help to make it happen.”
“Obviously we will need your help to make it happen—”
It was Kiva’s turn to hold up a finger. “But you weren’t asking for it. You were telling me what was going to happen, and expecting me to go along with it like it was already a done deal.”
“I’m not sure why that matters.”
“It matters because you’ve fucking pissed me off,” Kiva said. “I don’t like when people come into my office and tell me how I’m going to do things, as if I don’t have a say in the matter, and preemptively threaten to drag me into court to try to coerce my compliance.”
“Lady Kiva, if I came across in such a manner, I apologize, it was unintentional—”
“And now you’ve just fucking pissed me off twice, because you’re pretending like you did this shit accidentally. You’re a grown adult and the senior trade negotiator for an entire fucking house. And yes, the House of Wolfe is a truly minor fucking house—”
“Hey—”
“But even a minor fucking house has