Marduk's Rebellion

by Jenn Lyons

from the bleachers and pretend were something like the real thing. As such, the seats weren’t exactly the height of comfort, too tall for humans, too short for Sarcodinay. A table had been set up on the pit floor to mark the divide between the Solar Independence League delegation and the Sarcodinay contingency. Lisa Keiler would be acting as representative for SIL (much to the obvious displeasure of Admiral Szabo) and Emperor Kathanial would be acting as representative for the Sarcodinay (which was probably just fine with Tirris Vahn, since it meant she wouldn’t be the one signing what might otherwise be viewed as an admission of defeat).

  Small floating cameras hovered around the room to capture every moment of the signing. By parts mutual agreement and necessity, the signing would not go out live. Necessity in that a live feed would conform to normal relativistic laws, and mutual agreement in a delayed taping allowed both sides to make sure that all parts of the Empire and League saw the results of the taping more or less simultaneously with time to edit out embarrassing gaffes.

  Everyone mingled for a few minutes and tried to make sure they had the right seats and ushers spent a fair stretch rearranging people. I was listening telepathically to any stray thought and had Medusa scanning every person who came across my view in the hopes that someone would match with Zaladin. The room was closed off—the ventilation was in the floor—it was honestly quite secure. There wasn’t any place for a sniper to use as a nest and remain undetected. Tirris would be too close to Kathanial for me to think she would use one of her much-loved explosive traps and Kathanial would be too close to Tirris for me to think Zaladin would do the same.

  After everyone was seated, Lisa Keiler entered the room, with Admiral Szabo and his security group close behind her. I growled to myself as I realized Belisle was one of the people who accompanied him. Lisa herself was a dark-skinned woman, tall and lean, with a face that would be at its kindest called handsome and might more appropriately be described as interesting. Her eyes shone with passionate intelligence and when she spoke she could move armies, and had. There was a damn good reason that even after all Szabo Ernak’s military victories, Keiler continued to be the one elected as SIL president.

  She stood, and waited. The crowd began to look a little uncomfortable.

  Then the doors at the far end of the room opened, and a dozen black-uniformed Sarcodinay High Guard entered, heads freshly shaved, holding no weapons or insignia but the arrow caste-marks on their foreheads and their fanatical devotion. That devotion had been tested of late, and tested more now that word was spreading one of their own had killed the last Emperor. They were, even under normal circumstances, a group of men and women with everything to prove. Never had that been more true than at that moment.

  Tirris Vahn stepped in from the side to join them, Gala-Mal Norus at her elbow. And then, after a pause, the Sarcodinay Emperor entered the room.

  I could say that he looked like a normal Sarcodinay, but what does that mean when every Sarcodinay looks like a bronze statue of an angel made flesh? His hair was silver-gold, so that I wasn’t sure if I inherited my hair from him or from my mother, and it was braided and coiled in a crown around his head, a halo decorated with diamonds. The Star of Sarcos hung like a benediction of stellar light above his forehead. His khani robes were the stuff of dreams and pageants, glittering with the light of a thousand stars and all of the riches of an empire spanning a thousand systems.

  I’m not even sure I could tell you what the man looked like, but as a symbol he was radiant.

  The High Guard tapped their staves, and one of them said in a clear voice: “Hail Kathanial, Governor of Sarcos, High Priest of the Keepers, Lord of Galactic Light, Prince of the Stellar Fires, Regent of the Mind’s Eye, Emperor of the Sarcodinay!”

  “Oh, interesting,” Randolph said next to me. “They’re using the short introduction.”

  Kathanial raised a hand, nodded to the crowd—not all of whom were clapping—and moved to sit down.

  “Before we begin,” Tirris Vahn said, “there is one other minor matter to which we must attend.”

  There was muttering through the crowd, and everyone looked at each other. I scanned the crowd too, but not because I was confused. I was looking for whoever didn’t seem confused, didn’t seem distracted. That would be the person who would gain my special attention.

  The Emperor turned his head. “There is?”

  “Yes!” She bowed to the human delegation. “My...apologies...for the delay in your business, but this takes precedence. No treaty you sign may be valid if the Sarcodinay agent involved is not of sufficient rank.”

  A gasp ran through the crowd.

  “Is she saying what—”

  “Oh fuck,” I muttered. “She’s calling him out. Right now. She’s not going to assassinate him. She’s just going to kill him in front of everyone.”

  “What?” Randolph looked shocked. I didn’t blame him. “She can do that?”

  “By Tridates of the Keepers,” Tirris Vahn explained, “The Emperor must be the most powerful telepath in the Empire, and one who has proved themselves worthy. I claim that I am far stronger than Emperor Kathosis’ spawn, and further, that Kathanial has proved his weakness by fathering degenerate offspring that would have been best culled, but who, in his weakness, he allowed to live.”

  Kathanial turned on her. “You would dare...?”

  “I dare. And there is only one way this can be resolved, here and now with sixteen High Guard as witness.”

  The Emperor stood again and turned to Keiler and Szabo. “Clear the ring. This will be over quickly.”

  “Such a cocky little brat,” Tirris said.

  Men moved in quickly to pull back the table and chairs and, acting as if they had rehearsed this so many times they needed no stage direction, the Sarcodinay High Guard split into groups, four at each break in the gladiator arena floor, to cover the exits.

  “I can’t believe—” Randolph said. “When was the last time there was an Accusation of Unworthiness?”

  “Six hundred years,” I said, as my gaze settled on one of the men in Lisa Keiler’s camp, a large fellow who had slipped over to the side of the pit.

  He was looking for a way to sneak in behind Tirris Vahn.

  “Randolph, it’s been fun. Speak kindly of me in your memoirs.” I patted him on the shoulder and started pushing my way down towards the ground level.

  “Then let this begin,” Kathanial said, and before he’d even finished speaking, Tirris Vahn struck.

  Oh, it must have been boring to the spectators, a Sarcodinay man and woman in what seemed like a staring contest with each other, eyes flashing yellow or red as they made contact. But to me? I had been starting to think I was pretty hot shit until I felt two real telepaths turn their attention on each other. It felt like the entire room was suddenly submerged deep underwater, the pressure so high I was surprised my ears weren’t bursting from the pain. Sixteen High Guard winced and fought to maintain their stoic composure, and the man I was moving in on put his hand to his head as if to deal with a sudden onset migraine.

  I tasted copper on my lips and realized my nose was bleeding, just from being near their psychic battle. The High Guard weren’t witnesses only from propriety, they were witnessing because they were the only ones who could and live. Gala-Mal Norus’ nose and ears were bleeding a steady stream of gold, and I watched him fall to his knees, wondering if he’d survive his desire to see such a historic event. The humans were safe enough. The smarter Sarcodinay fled while they could.

  [Not so fast.]

  I reached out a hand to grab the tall man’s shoulder, and Zaladin swung back, tried to grab my wrist, spun around and kicked at my legs. [Lory, let this go. He needs me!]

  [Feel his mind, damn it. He doesn’t need your help. He’s stronger than both of us.]

  [She has to die!]

  He attacked simultaneously: a successful grab to the wrist, following by a toss into the stands, and a mental assault that left me nauseated and weak. I fell well, cushi
oned by soft human bodies, but the throw put me out of position. I stared at Zaladin’s back.

  He stopped and looked around the suddenly empty pit area. [What did you do?] He turned back to me.

  [You don’t win until I say you do. I’ve hidden Tirris from you until then.]

  He scowled and advanced on me. I sent a mental assault in his direction that made him pause.

  “Hey, what’s going on there?” Belisle saw the second fight beginning. “You two, this ain’t no time for that.”

  We ignored him to begin our fight in earnest.

  [This is your fault you know.] Zaladin hit my chest, nearly punched my throat, and side-stepped out of my kick. I kicked again, quickly, landing a solid strike that made him grunt and take a step back.

  [My fault? I don’t think so.] I punched at his head, which he blocked with an arm, and feinted towards his middle, which gave me enough of an opening to kick the man again.

  [If you hadn’t saved those two in FirstCity, I wouldn’t have had to come here personally. Kathanial would have known about Tirris’ treachery and crimes. I told you I can’t take Tirris in person. I’m not strong enough.]

  [What about the third? You said there was a third.]

  Zaladin gave me a look, like I was being very stupid.

  [Keepers. You’re the third.]

  The revelation threw me off, and he grabbed my leg, twisted and yanked up, nearly dislocating the hip. I screamed. The twist on