by Jenn Lyons
her. Cyok’neykt were perfectly capable of scouring a solar system clean of all life if they were allowed to reproduce freely.
“And every ship in the system had to respond to that.”
“Every ship in system, yes. There was no one to stop him from escaping.”
“So he really does have the Master Commands,” Campbell said, looking at me for confirmation.
I nodded. “He really does.”
“Master Commands?” Vanessa looked at me, surprised. “Those aren’t real. There isn’t a single set of codes that overrides every Sarcodinay computer. That would be insane.”
I started to pace. “But not out of keeping with Sarcodinay philosophies of power. But the legends have always been very clear on one issue: the only Sarcodinay who has the Master Commands is the Emperor. No one else. Kathanial wouldn’t have had them until he ascended to the throne. Each Sarcodinay Emperor is supposed to pass the commands along to the next Emperor before their death. Zaladin shouldn’t have them, even assuming that Kathosis had enough warning of his own demise to pass them along.”
“Could Zaladin really be...” Campbell paused, considering his words. “Could this be because he’s secretly the true heir?”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
“He is technically royalty,” Vanessa pointed out, “A second cousin, twice removed to the Emperor according to this file, but he’s not in line for succession and his telepathic powers aren’t rated high enough. Tirris Vahn has a far stronger claim to the throne.”
“But if his father was really—” Campbell shook his head. “What am I saying? Yeah, okay. The way the royal family’s watched, there’s no way someone stuck a skeleton in that closet.”
I chewed on my thumb. “Was Kathanial ever on Terra?”
They all shrugged or otherwise shook their head. “The record doesn’t say.”
“Deuce?”
Did I imagine her hesitation? “Kathanial is young. As expected heir, Kathosis would want his son to prove his bravery, probably through field combat. I would estimate a 92% probability that Kathanial has been to Terra at least once.”
“But that’s not in the record.”
“There’s a span of two years in which Zaladin trained Kathanial but the details and location of that training have been redacted.”
“I stand corrected: two years is enough time to hide any number of skeletons,” Campbell mused. “When was this?”
“Twenty-five years ago.”
I closed my eyes. Keepers help me.
Vanessa shook her head. “So it’s not likely that Zaladin’s somehow, I don’t know, Kathanial’s son or something. He’s not that young.” She bobbled the controller in her hand and switched the picture to show a young Sarcodinay male, not yet old enough for his Tu-Shirox. He wore the caste mark of a gladiator. “As it is, Zaladin had a pretty wretched life. He was outcast from his family, trained as a gladiator until adulthood, worked past his Tu-Shirox and then promptly killed his first opponent telepathically on live feed. They had no choice but to reclaim him and let him train for the black. He’s been allowed to mate six times, five of which resulting in culling. Only one child survived, a girl who is also High Guard.” Vanessa nodded at me. “And oh, you’ll love this. The mother is Tirris Vahn. Likely her mother’s rank is the only reason that Tirrea wasn’t culled herself.”
I waved a hand as I helped myself to a cup of tea from Merlin’s stash. “None of this matters. We need his next target. Zaladin’s running out of time, and he told me he still has three people to go. We only have a few days until the peace signing, and whatever he’s going to do, he needs to do it before then.”
“But you’re wrong,” Campbell said. He sounded peevish and he looked at me with a dour expression that proclaimed quite loudly he wasn’t finished sorting through his feelings about my revelation. “It matters. This—” He gestured vaguely. “—is why Zaladin’s doing all this. He’s still protecting the family, isn’t he?”
“He killed—”
Campbell interrupted me. “I have a theory. Hear me out.”
I paused, feeling a sense of nagging dread. Campbell wasn’t a rocket scientist or a physicist, but he was a detective, and it was possible—more than possible—that he was capable of putting the pieces together and coming up with something that looked like a picture.
Maybe even the right one.
“Go on,” Merlin urged.
“Let’s assume that Zaladin’s loyalty is very specific. What if he still thinks he’s a High Guard? Still thinks he’s fighting the good fight? So if he’s still loyal, that loyalty clearly isn’t to Kathosis, or he couldn’t have killed the man. So who? Tirris? He was mated to her...”
“No, he hates Tirris,” I said. “Really hates her.”
“Okay, not Tirris,” Campbell nodded at me. “So let’s go with Kathanial. Let’s say that, hypothetically, Zaladin is absolutely loyal to the crown prince, now Emperor. Now Emperor because of Zaladin...”
I paused and frowned. “You think Kathanial was tired of waiting for his father to die and asked Zaladin to speed things up?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure Kathanial has any idea what’s going on, which is why the first he heard of it he dumped all this information on us with a very politely worded request to capture, not kill, Zaladin. So he can stand trial.”
“So he can be debriefed,” Merlin murmured.
“Maybe so.” Campbell agreed. “Remember, we’re not just dealing with a normal High Guard. Zaladin is an outcast. He’s deformed and inferior by Sarcodinay standards. He will never fit in, and as such, I think he’s far more likely to dispense with the traditional moirés of Sarcodinay culture. A regular Sarcodinay High Guard would never rebel like this. He’d follow orders. Zaladin is a man who’s already rejected what his society says are obvious truths. Why not this too?”
“He could still be following orders,” I reminded him. “I’m not ready to give Kathanial a pass just yet.”
“So don’t, but ask yourself what sparked this? Something happened. Something happened to trigger Zaladin assassinating the Emperor. What?” Campbell was standing in front of me.
“Why are you asking me?”
“Because you know, Mallory. You’ve gotten closer to him than anyone, and because you have that look in your eyes, that same look you had back at Kaimer, when you knew something horrible but didn’t want to say it out loud.”
I set down the cup of tea and pushed aside Merlin’s plate of food. “I’m not feeling very hungry,” I told my handler by way of apology.
“Mallory, where are you going?” Vanessa asked.
I turned back to her. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I just can’t.”
“If you know something—”
“I don’t want it to be real!” I screamed. “I don’t want to admit that it’s true! I want it to all be the product of an overactive imagination and my own bloated arrogance. I want to be wrong. For once in my life, why can’t I have made a mistake! It would be so fucking human!” I felt tears falling down my cheeks and I wiped them away with the back of my hand, snarling. “It’s so obvious to me that I don’t understand how everyone can’t see it because they all but lit it up in neon lights with a holographic display.”
“Explain it to us,” Merlin said.
“Tirris should have killed me,” I whispered, looking at the three people. “She is not stupid. She is anything but stupid. When she found out I was a half-breed, and not just a half-breed, but an Omashai-class telepath, she should have had me put like some dog with an infectious disease. She didn’t keep me alive for my psychic talents, she kept me alive because I was one of two babies born to a human woman code-named Eve, someone who was so special Tirris showed up personally with a dozen High Guard to check in on the happy mother. Oh she must have just hated it when my brother and I went missing, so when a know-nothing Sarcodinay school teacher in FirstCity reported an eight-year-old human girl with psychic powers, Tirris didn’t just send lackeys to handle it, sh
e took me into custody personally.”
Campbell straightened. “What?”
I laughed, cynical and, I have to admit, just a bit hysterical. “She didn’t kill me when she should have, but she was willing to toss a comet at Kaimer when it looked like I might escape, put a black flag on me for the crime of having survived puberty, and tried to assassinate me at least twice that I know of, once just recently. She hasn’t forgotten about me. I’m way at the top of her list of people to be controlled or destroyed. All this happening, and that bitch is still letting me know she cares. Why would I threaten her just by existing?”
I paced, full of energy and anger and horrible dread. “You want to tell me I’m wrong, Medusa? I’m all ears about telling me how wrong I must be. Please.”
“I’m sorry. While your theory is based on speculation, it does seem plausible.”
I ground my teeth together and made a strangled noise.
“You’re saying—” Campbell paused and licked his lips nervously.
Don’t say it, I prayed. Don’t say it out loud.
Saying it out loud would make it true.
“Sarcodinay don’t lie,” Vanessa whispered. “You pointed that out to me. Except for Zaladin, they don’t lie. Which means—” She picked up the remote.
I turned away.
Campbell said, “It means Maia-Leia Shana wasn’t insane when she chose to depict your mother as the Sarcodinay Empress, and Emperor Kathanial wasn’t lying when he said Zaladin spent fifteen years training the royal family. Keepers,