Astonishment sparked in Jai; that first voice, the woman he hadn’t understood, had come from Earth, many light-years away.
He was about to speak to his grandfather.
Jai wondered at the title, “King of Skyfall.” His mother had described her father as a judge, with the title “Dalvador Bard.” His people had no king, though some of his duties were similar to those of kings from cultures on Earth. Jai supposed the Allieds thought “King” sounded more imposing than “Bard.”
The operator at the console near Jai spoke, her words going to Earth: “His Esteemed Highness, Jaibriol the Third, descended from the Line of Qox, son of Jaibriol the Second, grandson of Ur, great-grandson of Jaibriol the First, and great-great-grandson of Eube, Sublime Founder of the Concord.”
Listening to a man with a deep voice translate the words, Jai found himself wishing they didn’t have to recite his predecessors every time they introduced him. He felt sorry for his descendants; in a few generations, the lineage would become truly unwieldy.
A blurry image formed on the holostage about five paces away from Jai. It sharpened into a man who was sitting in an elegant chair encrusted with gold and rubies—and Jai’s pulse jumped. The man had violet eyes, and wine-red hair streaked with silver brushed his shoulders.
His grandfather.
Do you recognize me? Jai thought. His grandfather knew about Jai’s parents; it was Eldrinson who had arranged for the two lovers to go into exile. Jai saw the resemblance between Eldrinson and his son, Eldrin, the uncle Jai had traded himself for on Delos. It had amused Jai’s mother that her parents had given the name Eldrin to her brother, who was the son of Eldrinson. Jai suspected they thought Eldrinsonson was overdoing it. No doubt existed about who was the father, though; the man facing him now looked much older. He watched Jai from across the stage, and across the immensity of interstellar space.
The silence grew strained as everyone waited to see who would speak. They had decided in advance to use English, a neutral language. Skolian and Eubian protocols both derived from the ancient Ruby Empire. They required the person who had requested the communication to speak first. In cases such as this, where both sides had orchestrated the meeting, the lesser power spoke first. If powers were matched or disputed, the newest leader went first. If the experience was matched, the youngest spoke.
Of course neither side would acknowledge being a lesser power. That meant Jai should go first, in deference to Eldrinson’s age and experience. But such would imply that Eldrinson—a man that the Hightons considered a provider—had higher status than the emperor of Eube. It violated the very basis of Aristo beliefs.
As far as Jai was concerned, no question existed that Eldrinson had higher status. But Jai had bungled too many of his dealings with the Aristos; he didn’t dare misplay this. Aristos tolerated the peace negotiations because the Radiance War had exhausted Eube. No one wanted more conflict. But if Jai stumbled here, his uneasy support would collapse.
So he and Eldrinson sat in silence.
Do you see my mother in me? Jai so wished he could talk to his grandfather about his parents. He could say nothing, but they couldn’t sit here forever, either. Someone had to break the deadlock.
An idea came to Jai. He spoke—in Highton instead of English. “The Line of Qox acknowledges the Ruby Dynasty.”
An audible sigh came from the aides, techs, and operators. Relief washed out from Protocol, who was standing near the stage. By using Highton instead of English, Jai asserted the Aristo claim of authority, but he recognized Eldrinson’s greater experience by speaking first.
In a voice resonant with power, Eldrinson answered in Highton. “The Imperial Dynasty acknowledges the ascension of Jaibriol the Third to the Carnelian Throne.”
A chill ran through Jai. His own grandfather had just accepted him as the leader of a despotic interstellar empire.
So he and Eldrinson began their discussions.
This meeting was a symbol: their diplomats and staffs would set up the actual peace talks. Now they discussed who would attend. The Skolians representatives would come from their Assembly, the Ruby Dynasty, and Imperial Space command; the Eubian participants drew from the Qox Dynasty, Jai’s ministers, and ESComm. Everyone would be present as VR simulacra only; the risk of putting so many interstellar leaders in one place was too great. They chose Earth for the virtual conference site. Not only was it neutral territory, it was also the birthplace of humanity, a potent symbol.
Then Eldrinson dropped his bombshell.
“The Imperator,” he said, “will represent Imperial Space Command.”
Jai barely stopped his sharp inhale. “We had not known a successor to the late Imperator had assumed the title.” The words hurt: the “late Imperator” had been his mother.
“The Triad is complete.” Eldrinson looked beyond the range of the holocams and motioned. Then he waited.
A man appeared.
Towering and massive, with gold hair, skin, and eyes, the man walked into view, his image sharpening as he entered the center of the holocam’s focus. He moved with assurance, and his limp did nothing to detract from his imposing presence. Heavy gauntlets covered his arms from hand to elbow, embedded with conduits and controls. He stopped behind Eldrinson’s chair and stood facing Jai like a fortress, his face impassive, his gaze unwavering. And he challenged the Aristos with the most shocking defiance they could imagine—he wore a provider’s collar.
Someone whispered, “Skolia be damned.” Protocol stared at the man, her face a livid red. Murmurs broke the silence, rapidly growing in pitch.
Robert’s excited voice came over the comm in Jai’s ear. “Your Highness, I’m getting an ID on that man. He’s the provider that escaped from Minister Iquar!”
Fierce gratification swept through Jai. Let Eube choke on that. He could guess why Kelric still wore the collar: it would have extended neural threads into his nervous system. To remove it, his doctors would have to map the entire system and surgically remove each thread. They couldn’t rush the job, lest they cause neural damage. But Jai suspected Kelric had another reason for letting the collar show. It sent a bold message to the Hightons: I am your worst nightmare. Nothing could be a greater outrage—except a provider on the Carnelian Throne.
My greetings, Uncle, Jai thought.
“Saints almighty.” Robert spoke over the comm again. “We have more. Your Highness, that man is Kelricson Garlin Valdoria, the youngest son of the Foreign Affairs Councilor, Roca Skolia, and Web Key Eldrinson.” When Jai didn’t answer, Robert added, “Sir—you must decide whether or not to acknowledge him as Imperator.”
Jai glanced at Protocol. She looked furious, but she didn’t intercede. That no one tried advising him gave Jai a good idea how nonplussed they all were.
His uncle’s triumph had come at a price. In the Lock, Kelric’s limp had been far less pronounced than it was now. And his eyes tracked Jai now. It was a subtle effect, one Jai noticed only because a friend of his on Earth had lost his sight in an accident. After the doctors implanted an optical system that let him see, his eyes had tracked in the same way. Jai could only wonder what Kelric had endured, struggling to reach Earth while his body failed him. It seemed impossible he could have done it alone. If anyone had helped him, they had a great deal of courage, risking the wrath of Eube.
Jai spoke quietly. “The Line of Qox acknowledges the ascension of Kelricson Garlin Valdoria to the Imperial Triad.”
Kelric nodded, restrained, but with recognition. Jai felt a bittersweet joy; he could never return to his family, but his uncle had, and in doing so, he might help pave a road to peace.
Eldrinson and Jai resumed their discussions, and Kelric listened, standing behind Eldrinson. When the appropriate time came, Jai said, “As proof of our good intent in this endeavor, I have pardoned Jafe Maccar, the Skolian merchant arrested and imprisoned by ESComm.”
Protocol’s mouth fell open. The aides and techs around the studio stared as if Jai had gone insane. An
ger sparked from someone, he wasn’t sure whom. He knew his decision would engender hostility, but Maccar deserved the pardon. Now that Jai had the details of the incident, it was obvious the Highton noblewoman had sent out her pirate fleet to steal Maccar’s ships and crews after she paid for his goods.
Robert had dug up several other telling facts: Kelric had been the weapons officer on Maccar’s ship. And the Highton who had captured Maccar’s ship was none other than Admiral Azar Taratus, who had sold Kelric to Tarquine. According to the Halstaad Code of War, POWs couldn’t be auctioned as slaves. But Taratus had listed Maccar’s weapons officer as lost and presumed dead. The admiral truly did astonish Jai in his brazen disregard for the law.
Jai doubted ESComm would make trouble over the pardon, at least not openly. They wouldn’t want Taratus’s misdeeds to become public. That he was the brother of a Joint Commander would make the scandal even worse.
Eldrinson looked puzzled. “A magnanimous gesture, Your Highness.”
Jai inclined his head. Then he glanced at Kelric. Although his uncle’s face remained impassive, Kelric nodded slightly, with understanding in his gaze.
So it was done. Eube and Skolia would meet at the peace table. What they would achieve, if anything, Jai didn’t know.
But they would try.
Jai had never seen the Hall of Circles without an audience of Hightons. Now media techs filled it, along with the infernal protocol aides from this morning, when he had spoken to Eldrinson. They were at it again, fixing invisible flaws in his appearance. He wished they would go away.
The great doors of the Hall swung open, admitting a large retinue. Tarquine Iquar strode in its center, listening while her staff briefed her. Her retinue included the four Razers Jai’s people had sent her as bodyguards. It was the first time Jai had seen her since five days ago, when he had announced his decision to make her empress.
When she looked up, Jai inclined his head. She paused and bowed, then resumed her walk to the dais where he stood. He couldn’t pull his gaze away; she mesmerized him even more now than before. He didn’t understand how she worked this madness. Part of him responded to her as a Highton. She was the ultimate product of their caste, which was supremely ironic given that both she and Jai lacked the main attribute that defined Hightons, an ability to transcend.
Her retinue slowed as they climbed the dais. When they reached Jai, her aides knelt to him and the Razers bowed. Tarquine also bowed, but then she stood appraising him like a hawk watching a pup in the fields. She spoke huskily. “My honor at your presence, Your Highness.”
Jai flushed. “It pleases us to see you, Minister Iquar.”
“Good,” she murmured.
Remembering himself, Jai moved his hand, palm down, permitting her aides to stand.
Protocol joined them and bowed to Tarquine. “An auspicious day, Minister Iquar. Soon all will know its splendid favor.”
Jai supposed that was Hightonese for, “We’re ready to start.” His aides went to work on Tarquine, straightening her black tunic and trousers, and fixing her hair, which she wore in an elegant roll on her head.
The Protocol Minister surveyed the Finance Minister. Then Protocol spoke to one of her aides. “Minister Iquar needs garb more befitting an empress, eh? Bring me a formal dress, black diamond cloth.”
Tarquine turned an icy gaze on the aide. “On the other hand, perhaps you value your well-being.”
The aide flushed. “Ma’am?”
“If you do value it,” Tarquine continued, “I suggest you desist with the dress.”
Protocol scowled. When Tarquine raised an eyebrow at her, Protocol started to speak, then apparently thought better of it. To her alarmed aide, she said, “Perhaps Minister Iquar’s garb will be fine after all.”
Jai blinked. He wished he knew how Tarquine did that. He had ended up wearing exactly what Protocol wanted, conservative trousers and high-necked shirt, all black, even their fastenings. But as cool as Tarquine was on the outside, he picked up unexpected emotions from her mind. She had never expected the title of empress; now, faced with its reality, she alternated among misgiving, satisfaction, ire, and incredulity.
Aides clustered around them, conferring and checking palmtops. Amid the bustle, Jai watched Tarquine and she watched him back, inscrutable. He couldn’t absorb that this woman would be his wife. It brought home the extent of his influence, that he could simply announce his intent to marry one of the most powerful human beings alive, and have it come to pass.
Right, he thought dryly. Had Tarquine wanted to refuse him, this betrothal wouldn’t be taking place. Incredible as it seemed, she was willing to take him. Or, more realistically, she would take the title he offered.
His mood darkened. He wasn’t the one she had given up fourteen million credits for. What would she think when she learned her escaped provider was now the Imperator of Skolia? Would she crave Kelric even more?
It doesn’t matter, Jai told himself, trying to believe it. He had her now.
The aides finally withdrew, leaving Jai and Tarquine side-by-side, facing the holocams. He knew how they looked: the same height, black hair shimmering, eyes ruby red, their faces snow-marble smooth, their clothes severe and black. A brace of perfect Hightons.
The Eubian anthem played, its haunting strains filling the Hall with a beauty so heartbreaking, it hurt to hear. Jai so wished he could see that beauty among the Hightons, instead of the cold formality that defined them. He felt as if he were facing a lifetime of starvation, but of the soul rather than the body.
The lights of holocams blinked, but he knew that right now the broadcast was showing views of the palace. After an eternity, Protocol’s voice came over the comm in his ear. “We’re ready for your part, Your Highness. Three, two, one—go.”
Jai took a deep breath. “People of Eube, I bring you joyous news.”
So Jai announced the betrothal, his speech peppered with the requisite lavish praise for the Line of Iquar, including the previous empress, his grandmother, Tarquine’s niece. If anyone objected to his kinship with Tarquine, they had the sense to keep their mouth shut. Given that Jaibriol I had married his sister because he considered no one else elevated enough for his bloodline, Jai doubted his relation to Tarquine would cause much shock. That she was his Finance Minister and so much older was far more likely to stir controversy.
After Jai finished his speech, High Judge Calope Muze officiated at the betrothal, sanctifying it for their wedding, which would take place in three months.
Then it was done. Qox and Iquar were once again united. Standing with Tarquine, Jai thought darkly of a phrase he had learned on Earth.
Until death do us part.
18
Ascending Sun
Lord Raziquon hit the wall with his fist, causing a nearby table to shake. The vase on the table toppled off and shattered on the floor.
A wry voice spoke behind him. “Destroying pottery rarely accomplishes anything.”
Raziquon swung around. Xirad Kaliga, Joint Commander of ESComm, stood in the horseshoe arch of Raziquon’s office, leaning against its side, his arms crossed.
Raziquon gave him the minimalist greeting favored in their circle. “Admiral.”
Then Raziquon saw who else had entered his office, and sweat beaded on his forehead. Both Joint Commanders had come to visit. General Kryx Taratus was half-sitting on the desk across the room, facing him. A large man in both height and physique, Taratus had thick eyebrows and a blocky chin. He had also brought his younger brother, Azar Taratus, a taller, thinner man with sharply handsome features. Azar stood by a window, staring out at the gardens of Raziquon’s estate.
Kaliga smiled slightly. “It must be gratifying to have so many antiques that you need to be rid of them.”
Raziquon scowled. “What I need to be rid of is the dawn.” It enraged him that his interrogation of Sunrise had so far come to naught; he had risked his good name when he arranged her abduction.
General Taratus was
watching him. “The Line of Xir continues to inquire into confidential ESComm cases.”
That was no surprise; Raziquon had no doubt Corbal’s kin were “inquiring” with great vehemence about Sunrise. At least he had succeeded in having Corbal blamed for her disappearance. “Perhaps the Line of Xir forgets it is, itself, one of those confidential cases.”
“One cannot hold a Highton indefinitely,” Kaliga said. “Proof makes the difference.”
“Holorecords offer proof,” Raziquon said. Although the holos that showed Sunrise stealing files didn’t directly implicate Xir, she couldn’t have acted without his permission.
“Records can be doctored,” General Taratus said. His posture indicated sarcasm. “Or so Security tells me.”
Raziquon didn’t like the sound of it. If Xir’s people could prove the records implicating Sunrise were false, the case against Corbal would fall apart.
“Security could be wrong,” Raziquon said.
“Perhaps.” Kaliga’s stance indicated skepticism. “But I suspect it will please Corbal Xir to attend his cousin’s nuptials.”
Raziquon’s rage deepened. If Xir’s people demonstrated that the records had been doctored, their lord could indeed be free before the wedding. Then suspicion could ricochet back to the other guests who had dined that night with the emperor, may the gods scorch his Esteemed Imperial Self. And Sunrise had revealed nothing they could use against Xir. No provider should have such strong mental protections. It wasn’t legal. It wasn’t decent.
Kaliga spoke. “The Line of Xir gathers strength. It pleases me to see it so blessed in favor with the palace.” He was holding his thumb and forefinger together at his side, implying he intended the opposite sentiment to what his words expressed.
Azar Taratus had been staring out the window, but now he turned. His usually sardonic mien had darkened. “The Line of Iquar is likewise blessed.”
General Taratus glanced dourly at his younger brother. “With help from the Line of Taratus, eh?” When Azar scowled, the general raised an eyebrow. Raziquon supposed that the general meant Jaibriol III might not have betrothed himself so precipitously to Tarquine Iquar if not for the court case that had brought them together.
The Moon's Shadow (Saga of the Skolian Empire) Page 17