Diamond Star

by Catherine Asaro

  Good Lord. "I'm sorry about your family. I had no idea." Mac knew the Traders had killed Del's sister, the previous Imperator, and his half-brother Kurj, the Imperator before her. The rest of what Del was telling him about his family had never been made public. "I've heard stories of how they destroyed the atmosphere of Tams, but I've never met anyone who saw EI records of it." To say the EI brains of a Jag fighter squadron were classified was akin to saying a beach had a few grains of sand.

  Del just shook his head. He walked away, then stopped when a table blocked his way. Sitting down, he stared at the table. "My father lived for years, but he never fully recovered. It's only been a few months since he died."

  Mac went around and sat across from him. "It's been a rough time."

  Del looked up. "It would be easier if the Aristos just wanted to kill my family. But they want us alive. So they can hurt us."

  It wasn't the first time Mac had heard that claim, but before it had been from Skolian officials. Hearing it from one of the people who would suffer at the hands of the Traders was different. "Why would they target you that way?"

  "I suppose you could say Aristos are anti-empaths." Del's voice was brittle. "They came out of something called the Rhon Project."

  "I thought that project was meant to help empaths."

  "It was." Del took a breath. "Being an empath is like—I don't know the word. Like living with this constant, endless pressure. Last night, when I felt how much people liked the concert, it was good. Great. But when you pick up anger, grief, anything like that, it's painful. If we couldn't shut it out, we'd go insane."

  Mac thought of the dossiers he had read on the Ruby Dynasty. "Wasn't the purpose of the Rhon Project to help psions create mental shields? To protect yourselves."

  Del nodded. "That's why we know how to do it. But Doctor Rhon also changed our genes. Not mine, my ancestors. He was trying to lower our sensitivity to painful input." He gave a strangled laugh. "It didn't quite end up the way he expected."

  "The research didn't work?"

  "Oh, it worked," Del said. "It created the Aristos. They can pick up empathic signals from psions. Pain signals, both physical and mental. Only those. And you know how the Aristo brain lowers its sensitivity to the signals? By rerouting them to its pleasure centers." His voice cracked. "They're a bunch of sadists, Mac. Hurting us makes them feel good. They call us providers because our pain 'provides' them pleasure. They're brutal and sick, and they think they're exalted, that they have a right to inflict whatever they damn well please because they're gods and we're scum."

  Del's words felt like punches. Mac had never heard it this way, with a target of the Aristos looking him straight in the eye, telling it in his words rather than the careful phrases of diplomacy. "I wish my people understood yours better."

  "We need each other." Del gave a wry grin. "That's why the Skolian military didn't zap you all for keeping my royal butt here."

  Mac smiled slightly, relieved to see Del's mood improve. "You're learning our slang."

  "Ultra swivel." Del laughed with a wince. "Like my hips, apparently."

  "Sorry about that review."

  "It's a lot better than what Fred Pizwick said." Del's smile turned into a frown. "I did not use a Roberts Enhancer."

  "Michael Laux on the Atlantic City-Time Hour wants to interview you about that." Mac offered the subject more to take Del's mind off the Aristos than because it had any urgency. "He wants you to do the exercise live, to prove you don't use an enhancer."

  "Good!" Del shook his head. "I don't see how Pizwick can get away with saying I used one."

  "He won't," Mac said. "But hell, you couldn't pay for this kind of publicity."

  Del smiled wryly. "To sell my nonexistent vid."

  "We'll get you in the studio tomorrow." Mac glanced at his wrist-mesh. "You should get some sleep. It's almost four."

  "All right." Del stood up and rubbed his eyes. "I'll see you." He went to the door, then paused to look back. "And Mac—"

  "Yes?"

  Del spoke softly. "Thanks for listening."

  Mac nodded, wishing he could do more. Like change the universe so one part of the human race wasn't preying on the other.

  Del sat down at the console in his hotel room and clicked in the virt cube Mac had given him. A female voice said, "Virtual reality simulation array loaded."

  That sounded impressive. "What do I do?" Del asked.

  "Your question is vague," the console said. "Please be specific."

  "How do I listen to the virt?"

  "With yourself or someone else in it?"

  In it? Del wasn't sure what that meant. "With me."

  "Do you have internal biomech augmentation compatible with a Pacifica tri-media system?"

  "Uh, no. I don't think so."

  "You'll need a virt suit, then."

  "Do you have one?"

  "Check the lower drawer of this console."

  Del investigated until he figured out how to click open the console drawer. A blue suit inside transparent packaging lay there with a visored helmet. He lifted out the suit. "So do I put this on?"

  "That is correct. Remove your clothes first."

  He laughed sleepily. "I'd rather hear that from Ricki."

  Del changed into the suit and sat down, holding the helmet. With the console telling him what to do, he linked into the virt, then donned the helmet and settled back in the reclining chair. It was comfortable in the dark with the visor over his eyes. If nothing happened, he could get a few hours of sleep before the room AI insisted he get out of bed. Or chair.

  The room lightened—no, not the room! He was standing in a rippling field that sparked under golden light. The sweet fragrance of the fresh grass tickled his nose, and a breeze tousled his hair. Insects trilled nearby.

  "Hey," Del said. "Ultra."

  A man was walking toward him through the field.

  "Rex?" Del asked. It looked like the lead singer of Mind Mix.

  "Hey." Rex came up and offered his hand. "Good to see you."

  Del shook his hand, and Rex's skin felt warm and textured.

  "Hi," Del said.

  "Would you like a tour?" Rex asked.

  "Sure." This was more than Del expected. His family had an entertainment center at home, but it was mostly books, because his parents had wanted their children to read instead of playing virts. It had constantly frustrated Del; out of ten siblings, only he had never learned to read. Sure, an AI could read to him. But he preferred music. His people used songs as their "libraries." In their distant past they had bred the Bards to create and remember historical ballads. Musical archives.

  Lyshrioli music bored him, though. He wouldn't have minded learning the art songs or folk music of his people if he hadn't been under so much pressure to drop what he wanted in favor of what everyone else wanted.

  He walked with Rex through the meadow. "Do you remember me?" Del asked.

  "I remember Mac Tyler," Rex said. "I don't have anything yet for you in this virt. But I'll remember this session."

  "You're not really Rex, are you?" Del said.

  Rex gave him an apologetic look. "Just an avatar. But you can have real people join you in the virt, if you want."

  "It's five a.m.," Del said, laughing. "They're asleep." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Am I talking out loud in my suit? I mean, if someone came into my room, would they hear me having this conversation with you?"

  "Possibly," Rex said. "It depends on your setup. If you have a direct brain to console interface, this all takes place in your mind."

  "I'm just wearing a suit."

  "Are you subvocalizing?"

  "I'm not sure what that means."

  "If you think the word," Rex said, "muscles in your vocal cords, tongue, and throat move. The virt suit interprets it as speech." He sounded far more patient than the real Rex would have been with so many questions. "If you subvocalize, it keeps your session private."

  "Oh. Okay. I can do that." De
l indicated a building with swooping arches ahead. "What's that?"

  "It's for your personal concert."

  "Actually, I'd rather see you guys practice." Del liked to watch other people rehearse to learn what techniques they used to improve.

  "Sure, we can do that." Rex gave a friendly laugh. "Most people want a personalized concert, with the real Rex."

  "I know the real Rex," Del said. "You're more pleasant." He immediately felt guilty, given that Rex was the only member of Mind Mix who hadn't wanted him yanked off the tour. "But he's a good guy."

  "I'm glad you think so. Here." Rex waved his hand.

  Suddenly Del was inside a big, airy warehouse. Mind Mix was rehearsing in the open area. Sort of rehearsing. Rex sang the songs straight through with no stops, and sounded far better than the real rehearsal Del had heard yesterday. Tristan never missed a beat on his drums, and Tackman played his morpher better than in real life.

  After a few songs, Del said, "Never mind." He didn't speak loudly, but the rehearsal stopped and both Rex and Tristan appeared next to him.

  "Hey," Tristan said. "Glad to meet you." He even cracked a smile.

  "Yeah, right," Del said. "The real Tristan can't stand me."

  "You don't seem to be enjoying yourself," Rex said. "Would you like to try one of the story virts?"

  "What's that?" Del asked.

  Rex snapped his fingers and everything went dark. Music started, and somewhere Rex sang, "Honey, your eyes froze me, froze me, yeah, froze me in the night."

  A street appeared, soaked from a recent rain. It was night, and a lone streetlamp reflected in the oily water of the alley. A woman in a trench coat walked toward Del, a hat pulled low over her face, her blond hair curling out from under it. She wore heels so high, he wondered how she kept from falling onto her face.

  "Hey, honey," she said as she came up to him.

  "Uh, hi." Del could see her eyes under the hat. They were large and blue. Icy blue. The virt intensified the color.

  "Freeze me, Baaaaaaby," Rex wailed.

  "What's your name, sweetheart?" the woman said.

  "Del." The way her hair curled over her face was driving him nuts. Well, this was his session. He could do what he wanted. So he brushed it out of her eyes, and her hat slid back, revealing more of her face. She was sexy in a jaded sort of way. Rex kept singing, accompanied by the erotic beat of Tristan's drums.

  "So Del," the woman said. "Why are you out here alone?"

  "I've no idea," Del admitted with a laugh.

  She touched his cheek with a well-manicured finger. "I think a sweet thing like you shouldn't be in a place like this at night. You could get into trouble."

  "Freeeeze my heart," Rex sang.

  "With you?" Del wondered what would happen if he tried to kiss her.

  Her lips parted. "Why don't you find out?"

  "I don't know if I should risk it," Del said, smiling. "This song ends with Rex yelling, 'Baby, you done froze my heart and smashed it all over the street.' "

  "Come on, honey," she coaxed.

  What the hell. Del put his arms around her waist and yanked her close. She felt real. When he opened her coat and slid his hand inside, skimming it under her breast, she felt even better. He had no idea what he was actually doing in the virt suit, and he didn't want to know, but here he kissed her. She molded against him, her face tilted up and her eyes closed. When he tried to caress her breast, though, she stepped away from him.

  "You're dynamite, sweetheart," she said.

  Rex groaned, "Baby, frazy, baby, crazy."

  "Hey," Del said. "Don't go away."

  She stayed back. "You're coming on strong, honey."

  "You know," he said good-naturedly. "Whoever programmed this virt could have come up with more for you to call me than honey and sweetheart." Then again, this was part of a song with lyrics like "frazy, baby." Maybe he didn't want them thinking up more dialogue for their virtual femme fatale.

  "Tell me," Del asked. "How far could I go with you?"

  "Now, honey—"

  "No, wait, I really want to know." Del felt his face redden. "I'm going to start making one of these virts tomorrow. I was wondering what people could, uh, do in them."

  The song stopped, and Rex came up alongside of him on the street. The woman remained standing in place.

  "You're making a virt?" Rex asked.

  Del blinked, startled. At least Rex wasn't singing anymore. "I would feel really strange," Del said, "if people could buy my virts and, well, you know."

  "Screw the simulations?"

  "Since you put it so bluntly, yeah."

  "It's against the law." Rex indicated the woman, who hadn't moved since he appeared. "She'll kiss you, but that's all. If you're underage, you don't even get kisses. Adults can buy X-rated virts, but Prime-Nova doesn't make them, at least not under that corporate name."

  Del regarded him uncomfortably. "Does an artist get any choice in how his virt is set up?"

  "Some." Rex pulled out a smoke-stick and lit up. The end glowed green. "Depends how much clout your manager has." He inhaled on the stick and blew out a plume of red smoke.

  "Suppose a girl bought your virt and wanted you to kiss her?" Del asked.

  "You have more choice on that." Rex puffed on his stick. "Nothing more than a kiss. But your simulation can go on dates with them if you okay those mods when you make the virt."

  Del couldn't imagine virtual dates. Of course, he wouldn't really be on them. It would be some program designed to simulate him. Which was even weirder. "What if a guy comes into the virt?"

  Rex shrugged. "I'll do a date if they want. You interested?"

  "What? No, I didn't mean that!" Virtual or not, Del's face was burning. "Will the one I make for Prime-Nova be that way?"

  "Not if you don't want to. But they'll ask you to allow it as an option." Rex seemed amused by his reaction. "Some virt users set up whole households. Or hair-raising adventures to find hidden treasure. Or shopping sprees. All with their favorite rock star. You can program this virt however you want as long as it's legal and not too far out of character for the actual Rex Montrow." He blew a smoke ring. "It can't violate the morals standards, either."

  "You mean the censors." As far as Del could tell, they had a ridiculous amount of control over the industry. He was surprised this version of Rex got away with some of his language. Then again, it was mild compared to the real Rex.

  "Are there restrictions on words you can say?" Del asked. "Screw is okay. Damn? Yeah, that works. F—" He stopped. "Suppose you want to say f—? Huh. Okay, that doesn't work."

  "D— doesn't work, either," Rex said, laughing. "Or c—"

  "What are those?"

  "Oh, come on."

  Del could guess one of them. "What if I'm a workman, and I need to drill a hole—hey, it let me say it. But not, I'm d— out of my mind."

  "It's the context. The virt analyzes your speech." He considered Del. "You have a thick accent, if you don't mind my saying. English isn't your native language?"

  "No. Prime-Nova makes me practice so I won't have an accent when I sing." He paused, feeling odd. The scene around him vibrated. "That's a bizarre effect."

  "It's not an effect." Rex blew out a long stream of smoke. "Someone is shaking you."

  "Oh." Del started to leave, then stopped. He had no idea "where" to go. What if he couldn't leave the virt? It was a strange thought, alarming and intriguing at the same time.

  "I don't know how to stop this session," Del said.

  "Just say, 'End virt.' Anything like that."

  "Oh. Okay. End virt."

  The scene went dark. After a moment, Del became aware of his body in the virt suit. He lifted off the helmet and found himself looking up at Randall. At first he thought his vision was shaking. Then he realized Randall was doing it all on his own.

  "Hey," Del said. "How'd you get in my room?"

  "You left the door unlocked." Randall laughed blurrily. "You should be more careful. You
never know what lowlife'll creep in here." Swaying back and forth, he held up a bottle of clear liquid and two hotel glasses. "We should celebrate."

  Del sat up, stretching his arms. "That virt was fun."

  "They get boring real fast." Randall pulled over a recliner and sat by Del. "They're too predictable." He poured a glass of whatever was in his bottle and handed it to Del. "Now this is never the same twice."

  Del smelled the liquid. "Whoa. What is it?"

  "Ouzo. Greek fire water." Randall filled his own glass, took a big swallow, and let out a belch. "Oh, yeah."

  Del laughed. "Is that a recommendation or a warning?"

  "It's good. Try it."

  Del set the drink on the console. "I'm allergic."

  "Yeah, right."

  "Really." Del didn't want to explain. "I should get some sleep, anyway."

  Randall leaned back in his recliner. "You sleep." He lifted his glass to Del. "I'll celebrate for you."

  Del smiled. "That virt was almost as good as sleeping."

  Randall's eyelids drooped closed. "They're all the same after a while, least ways, the legal ones."

  "Legal?" Del asked, intrigued. "What do illegal ones do?"

  "Now how would a well-behaved boy like me know that?"

  Del grinned. "Hypothetically."

  Randall raised his lids halfway, his eyes glinting. "You can do whatever you want. With who you want. For as long as you want. A bliss-node can keep you in for hours. It's the thrill, you know, because you can't leave until the session ends. Like taking tau-kickers, only better. Hell, you can set your own trip. Whatever you want. Women. Wealth. Power." Then he said, "Not that I would know anything about tau-kickers or bliss-nodes."

  Del laughed sleepily. "Of course not."

  "It's safe, too, sort of," Randall said. "You're not putting anything in your body. No chemicals."

  Del sat up straighter. "So nothing inside you can react with it? I mean, physiologically."

  "Fizzy what?" Randall's voice slurred. "For someone who just learned English, you have one hell of a vocabulary." He yawned, showing a row of well-formed teeth. "But, yeah, that's right, no chemicals for Soo-Ling to pick up. So she stays happy and you're fine." Then he added, "In theory."

  "Why in theory?" Up until those last two words, it had sounded great. "It's harmless, right?"