Spherical Harmonic
Page 32
A shadow came over her expression. “I am sorry, Dehya.”
I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “He’s happy. That’s what matters.” I doubted I could ever really accept losing him from our lives, but it did help to know he had chosen what he wanted.
“You are once again my heir,” I told Roca.
She started. “I’ve no desire for your title.”
“That isn’t how you sounded a few moments ago.”
“Dehya, listen.” She set down her goblet. “Being Pharaoh and being the Councilor for Foreign Affairs are two very different things. If the time comes and you have no heir, I will accept the title. But I don’t crave it.” She spoke quietly. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
It hadn’t occurred to me to fear my own sister. “I know.” I spoke with difficulty. “Eldrin and I don’t know if we should try to have more children. Even with modern genetic medicine, the baby still has a good chance of being born with severe deformities or the extreme mental sensitivity that nearly destroyed Taquinil.”
Her voice softened. “At least now the Assembly can no longer force you to have them against your will.”
“Yes. No longer.” I wondered if the universe was laughing at us. For in the end, when Eldrin and I discovered just how much we longed for children, we couldn’t have them.
The living room was empty when I entered the suite. Someone had to be here, though, or the El wouldn’t have let me inside. An open doorway arched in the opposite wall. It was dark beyond, and at first I didn’t see the woman there. But I felt the nuances of her mind: wariness, curiosity, restraint, anger, even relief.
Vazar walked through the archway. She stopped several paces away from me, a larger distance than social convention dictated. “Have you come to say your revolution is done? I already know. I saw the news holo.”
I had too much respect for her to evade the central issue. “I wanted to let you know I’ve spoken to Naaj.”
Her posture became even more guarded. “And?”
“She verified that you had authority to speak for her.” I doubted I would ever know if Naaj had made that decision before or after Vazar made her claim, but whatever the truth, Naaj had backed her cousin. Vazar wouldn’t face execution. That meant more to me than I knew how to express. Whatever else I thought of Naaj Majda, I would always be grateful to her for supporting Vazar, who in many ways had become like a cousin to me as well.
Vazar let out a breath. Her posture eased, almost imperceptibly, but the tension still showed. “I understand Naaj accepted you as Pharaoh.”
“Yes.” I paused, afraid to ask. But I had to know. “And you?”
Her throaty voice was low. “I honor the Majda oath to the Ruby Dynasty.”
Relief washed over me. Her response hardly qualified as a ringing endorsement, though. I tried to decipher her mood. Conflicting loyalties tore at her. She had many misgivings about the changes I had wrought. “Vaz, I value your support. But why the doubts? The mission to Earth succeeded, better even than we expected in one respect. They had Kelric.”
“Aye, it worked. And it is good to have your family back.” She came closer. “But are you certain about the rest? Is this really what you believe best for Skolia?”
“I have no doubt I can rule in the best interest of Skolia.” I knew it was an evasive answer. I glanced back at the shadowed archway, aware now of someone else beyond it listening to us. “Your son is a Ruby Dynasty heir. He has a right to his full heritage.”
She turned her head slightly, toward the archway. Then she returned her gaze to me. “Does that mean the Ruby Dynasty will acknowledge him?” Her tension almost crackled in the air.
I spoke quietly. “Yes.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again the chill had left her gaze. “I thank you.” With an edge, she added, “Majda has disowned him.”
Alhtough it shouldn’t have surprised me, I had hoped that for Ryder, might be willing to bend. But Naaj could be hard. “Majda has been known to re-evaluate.”
Vazar snorted. “Right. And the Traders would love to make peace with us.”
I managed a smile. “We can always hope.” In both cases. “But regardless, your son will be recognized by the House of Skolia in a formal ceremony when we return to the Imperial court.” Let Naaj chew on that
If Vazar realized I had evaded her original question, she gave no indication of it in either word or thought. Was I certain that absolute rule by the Ruby Dynasty was the best choice now? Ironic that a Majda warrior, of all people, should ask me that. If I intended to keep the confidence of Skolia, I could never give her my true answer.
No. I wasn’t certain it was the best choice.
Chad Barzun was in the Tactics Room. Its luminous walls had depth, as if you could walk into them, on and on, until the deep, viscous light swallowed you up. Today the sphere had absorbed all furniture and ledges, so only one break showed in its smoothness—this hatchway, where I had entered on the sphere’s equator. The air felt cool on my face, without character or scent. It offered a metaphor for life on ships that made me long to run in open fields under an open sky.
Chad was in the bottom of the sphere, down a slope of many meters from where I stood. He called up to me. “Would you like to join me, Your Highness?” Despite his distance, the good acoustics in the chamber made it sound as if he were right next to me.
“Yes, thank you,” I said.
Tactics molded a staircase for me. I went down and joined Chad at the bottom.
Enthusiasm warmed his voice. “Wait until you see this.” Raising his voice, he said, “Tactics, run number six.”
The sphere plunged into blackness. When it lightened, we were again standing on the Dalvador Plains of Eldrin’s home on Lyshriol. Strange, how the Tactics Room that symbolized for me a sterile life on the ship could also offer the open sky and fields I craved.
The Lyshrioli people were still camped out at the starport. Their tent nation stretched around us in every direction. An exuberant hum of life filled the air: voices murmuring, livestock snorting, all the clicks, thumps, rattles, and rumbles that such a large assembly made. We weren’t far from the port. Someone had erected a stage there, and my nephew Vyrl stood on it with his wife and siblings. A globe floated above his head, twirling with iridescent colors as it transmitted his voice to thousands of other spheres floating over the encampment. His words flowed over us, resonant, deep, musical.
Chad raised his hand, indicating the scene as if he were offering me a gift. At first I didn’t understand. It didn’t matter; the sheer beauty of Vyrl’s voice thrilled me. He spoke in Trillian, the harmonious tongue of his people. I had libraries for it in my neural nodes, along with translation programs. As my mind processed his speech, I began to understand. Yet even then, it took time to absorb. I heard him, yet I feared to hope.
Over the past months, the outcry against the Allied occupation of Lyshriol had risen in intensity. It came from all over settled space, not only from Skolians, but from the Allieds and even the Traders. The criticism against Earth for holding the Ruby Dynasty prisoner had turned excoriating, especially after it became public knowledge that Eldrinson had died in Allied custody. Then Eldrin and I made our plea for the release of our family and peace among our peoples. The war of public censure had heated into a star-spanning verbal conflagration.
The Allieds had finally had enough. They pulled out of Lyshriol.
“Saints above.” I gave a startled laugh. “We won.”
Chad inhaled deeply, filling his virtual lungs with the oxygen-rich air of Lyshriol. “That we did, Your Highness. May your reign continue with even greater successes than those you have already achieved.”
His positive take on my new position should have gratified me. “Do you really think what we’ve done with the Assembly is such a success?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Because you are the Pharaoh.” He regarded me evenly. “We hav
e always been the Ruby Empire, even if for a few hundred years we called ourselves something else.”
I understood what he meant; our identity was linked inextricably to our history. Skolia had started as the Ruby Empire. We had no other history, nothing more than legends of a place called Earth. No one had even believed those stories anymore, at least not until our siblings from Earth actually showed up.
“What you say is true,” I answered. “But I find myself questioning whether or not what we’ve always done is the best choice now.”
He indicated the tent nation around us. “What happened here is unlike anything we’ve done before. War has been our way for so long. It is auspicious that we found a peaceful alternative.”
“And if the Allieds had been as warlike in their recent history as we still are?” I shook my head. “Peace has to come from two sides. This would never have worked with the Traders.”
He spoke dryly. “Perhaps someday they will change.”
I could tell he didn’t believe it would ever happen. Even if Jaibriol III genuinely wanted to improve our relations, one person couldn’t change the ingrained traditions of millennia, not without years of work. Decades. Centuries.
Suddenly I thought: half a century. Fifty years. For some reason I recalled the racer that Jinn Opsister had taken to Earth: Lightning. Yet when I thought of it, I didn’t envision a racer. I saw a Jag starfighter. Then I thought of Viquara Iquar, or maybe not Viquara, but another Iquar.
Jags, lightning, Iquar: it made no sense. But I didn’t dismiss it. I had long ago realized such images could come from models in my mind that evolved below conscious thought. This image was too far in the future to offer anything definitive, but it must refer to powerful events if it registered even now. Maybe in fifty years we would finally find accommodation with the Traders. Or perhaps we would face our destruction.
Chad was watching me. “Pharaoh Dyhianna, I have no doubt that you will build a greater Skolia.”
“I value your loyalty. It means a great deal to me.” It was the reason I had promoted him.
Chad moved slightly, straightening his spine. I felt his satisfaction. Unlike Ragnar Bloodmark, who had ulterior motives everywhere, Chad genuinely believed we had made the right choice. His confidence came like a balm on blistered skin.
I needed that, to help prepare myself for the next person I had to face.
Jon Casestar’s suite hadn’t changed, but a great deal had happened since the last time I had been here. We sat at the same table as before. Instead of Eldrin, this time I came with bodyguards, Jagernauts loyal to the Ruby Dynasty. Jon no longer wore his uniform; today he had on gray trousers and a gray tunic. His face was drawn, his manner wary.
He spoke the requisite ceremonial words in a neutral voice, with no emotion. “My honor at your presence, Pharaoh Dyhianna.”
I almost winced. He sounded as honored as a soldier facing execution. And indeed, during the Ruby Empire, that would have been his sentence for acting against the Pharaoh. I didn’t want him to die. He had been a loyal and valued advisor to the last two Imperators, Kurj and Soz. I had no doubt he could have done the same for Kelric. But I couldn’t let him go now, not after he had defied the authority of the Ruby Throne.
“Ah, Jon.” I pushed my hand through my hair. “What will we do?”
I felt him tense. Although he wasn’t any more ready to trust me than I him, he understood the implicit message in my question—I wanted to negotiate.
He spoke carefully. “We have options.”
“Perhaps we should explore them.”
“I would agree, yes.”
Good. If he recanted his opposition to my reign, I wouldn’t have to do anything drastic. “Perhaps you might make a public statement. A pledge of support to our future. To Skolia.” I paused. “To the Ruby Dynasty.” Then I waited, willing him to say yes.
Resignation leaked past his mental barriers, and the fear that he was about to sign his death warrant. “I cannot lie, Your Highness.”
I should have known he wouldn’t go that far. As much as I admired his integrity, it wouldn’t help him in his grave. “Surely a middle ground exists.” I tried to think of what he might say that would mollify those who wanted his death. “Most people will understand your misgivings about our move against Earth. You feared to start a war. But perhaps you are gratified by its success and encouraged by the peaceful resolution at Lyshriol.”
“Yes, I could say that.” His unspoken question seemed to hang in the air: What is the catch?
I didn’t hedge. “You must never speak against the Ruby Dynasty.”
He didn’t answer immediately. Again I willed him not to refuse. Although he would probably never regain his authority as a top-ranked ISC admiral, he had many other options for a career. Most of all, I wouldn’t have to order his blasted execution.
Although he remained silent, his mood came to me. He had grave concerns about the rule of the Ruby Dynasty. The concentration of so much power with so few people troubled him. But given the choice between death and a measured support of the new government, he remained silent about his doubts. I had offered him an out: if he stopped opposing us, I wouldn’t ask that he recant his objections. He didn’t have to lie, he only had to keep quiet.
I spoke softly. “Silence requires less compromise that denial.”
Regret touched his voice. “One learns to live with compromises.” He took a tired breath. “I will make the speech, as you say.”
The hard knot in my stomach loosened. “I am glad, Jon. Truly glad.”
Yet still a part of me knew only regret. Even with his pardon, the Ruby Dynasty had lost one of its strongest military leaders.
Sprawled in his command chair, Ragnar Bloodmark waved at the holoscreens that curved around the bridge of his cruiser, Pharaoh’s Shield A panorama of stars surrounded us. Bridge consoles studded the surface of the hemisphere like ledges floating in the vast expanse of stars.
He spoke with fierce exultation. “This is all yours—your triumph.” I tried to feel his euphoria. “Apparently so.” He turned his dark gaze on me. “It is worth whatever price it exacts.”
“Why?”
He made an incredulous noise. “What kind of question is that for the winner to ask?”
“And you think that is what matters: the winning.”
“You didn’t start this hoping to lose.” His smile had a hard, vicious edge. “Dehya, you think too much. Enjoy your triumph.”
I wondered what he truly supported: me, or the power his loyalty would bring him. What did it matter? He had chosen the Ruby Dynasty. “You led the Fleet well.”
“That is what you need. People who serve you well.” The edge deepened in his voice. “People who understand the intricacies of power.”
Meaning you. Not Eldrin. He wouldn’t say it today or tomorrow, but it would come. Ragnar wanted more. He wanted the Ruby Throne. I couldn’t deny the truth.
I could never trust him.
The holo-panel in Naaj’s living room showed the Majda home planet, Raylicon, the world that had birthed our ancestors after we lost the green hills and blue seas of Earth. In the holo, violent winds hurled the sands of a red desert against gaunt red cliffs, like an ocean of sand breaking against a primordial shoreline. High on the cliffs, modern towers rose in mirrored needles, their metallic surfaces sharp against a pale blue sky. Naaj stood in front of the panel, her imposing figure dark against the fiery background.
“You must speak to the Skolian people as soon as possible,” she said. “They must hear from their Pharaoh.” Her eyes glinted.
The chill air made me wish I had worn clothes with a heating system. Or maybe facing Naaj was what made me cold. “The Office of Public Affairs is arranging for Kelric and me to appear in a broadcast.”
“Astonishing that he survived all these years,” she said, her tone guarded.
“He hasn’t talked much about it.”
“It disquiets me. Nineteen years is a long time.”
“He is always building structures with those jewels,” I said. “I think it’s more than a game.”
Naaj shrugged. “He puts them away whenever I come near.”
I walked around the room, studying its holo-panels, haunting views of Raylicon, including the Majda palace, an exotic cascade of domes and towers aglow in a rosy dawn. It belonged to Kelric now. “He speaks with fondness of the wedding present your sister gave him. He will be glad to see the palace again.” I had no doubt she knew exactly what I meant; we expected her House to honor Kelric’s claim to his Majda assets.
Naaj spoke with a formal tone, as one matriarch to another discussing the men under their responsibility. “Majda will see to his well-being.”
Although I doubted Kelric would appreciate that Majda felt obligated to look after his well-being, her answer made sense. Naaj coveted the title of Imperator the way a powerful matriarch in the Ruby Empire would have sought to expand her influence. She engaged her adversaries in an honorable manner. The Ruby queens had constantly fought such battles. The winner kept all, including the loser’s men.
Had Kelric been female, Naaj would have challenged him for the Majda assets. But even now, when he had become Imperator, I wasn’t sure she could see him as fully independent. In her view, he belonged to the winner, the House of Skolia, to which she had pledged her oath. She would always be entrenched in the Majda conservatism, but if it meant she wouldn’t seek his assassination, that was all that mattered.
“It pleases me that you venerate your sister’s widower,” I said.
“As we venerate your House.” She raised her head. “I have always known the Houses would rise again. The Ruby Dynasty is where it belongs.”
“You honor us with your fealty.” Not that she had had much choice.
“As it should be.”
“Why?”
“Why honor you with fealty?” She snorted, letting go of her formality. “Dehya, what kind of absurd question is that?”