The Moon's Shadow (Saga of the Skolian Empire)

by Catherine Asaro

  Kaliga spoke to Raziquon. “It is fortunate you have an omega clearance, my esteemed friend.”

  Raziquon blinked. What did his security clearance have to do with this? He let his posture indicate wariness. “It is an honor to have the trust of ESComm.”

  “So it is,” General Taratus rumbled.

  “Trusted enough,” Kaliga continued, “to know that Minister Iquar gained a certain provider cheap.”

  Raziquon didn’t see what they were about. “You are wealthy indeed, to consider fourteen million cheap.”

  “Cheap,” Kaliga repeated. “Just ask Imperator Skolia.”

  “Imperator Skolia is dead.” Raziquon had watched the holo of her shuttle exploding many times. Kaliga’s tone suggested a revealed confidence, but Raziquon saw no secrets.

  “Those who die often leave heirs.” The younger Taratus spoke in a deceptively soft voice. “It seems our new Imperator enjoys remarkably good health, especially considering his supposedly dreadful state when Tarquine Iquar’s doctors examined him.”

  It took a moment for his meaning to register on Raziquon. No. Impossible. Had Tarquine Iquar owned a member of the Ruby Dynasty—and let him escape? Gods, what a debacle. “Then may our dear Finance Minister rest in peace.”

  “But a well-paid peace, eh?” General Taratus said.

  Raziquon narrowed his gaze. Well-paid? “Your wishes for the Finance Minister are benign.” Bizarre, too, given Tarquine Iquar’s aggravating existence.

  “Benign, hell.” Taratus crossed his beefy arms, left over right. “Imperial decrees, now, they go beyond benign.” His posture, in the context of his words, implied he meant the decrees made by Jaibriol III at the insurance hearing.

  “Indeed.” Raziquon still didn’t see their point.

  “Hell of a thing, these imperial decrees,” Taratus continued. “Just think; if an independent evaluation of the escaped provider sets his worth higher than that determined by the bureaus, they must pay double the difference between their most recent assessment and the independent appraisal.”

  Raziquon stared at him. “Skolia be damned.”

  “Damned indeed,” Kaliga said. “What is an Imperator worth, eh? More than fourteen million, I’d wager.”

  Hell and damnation. Raziquon wanted to punch the wall again. Tarquine Iquar was about to receive an obscene insurance settlement, and she would soon combine her odiously vast power base with the Qox Dynasty. If that wasn’t enough, Corbal Xir would go free, and suspicion would taint Kaliga’s guests from that miserable dinner. It all added up to the wrong people gaining power and the right people suffering for it, namely himself, Jaibriol Raziquon.

  Something had to be done.

  Sunrise ran.

  The forest around Raziquon’s estate seemed endless. She recognized nothing. She didn’t think she was even still on Glory; the air smelled wrong and her body felt too heavy. The sky had no moons. Her silk pajamas offered little warmth from the night, and twigs and rocks jabbed her feet, but she didn’t care. After what she had endured from Raziquon, a few scrapes were nothing. Terror spurred her as she ran among the trees, stumbling in the unfamiliar gravity.

  Days had passed since the kidnapping, she didn’t know how many. Her life had narrowed to Raziquon and the interrogation room. During every reprieve she had rationed her sanity, praying he would grow bored with his futile attempts to make her talk, and every day he had crushed her hope.

  But everyone erred sooner or later. Today he had slipped, a small mistake, one that didn’t matter according to his view of reality. He hadn’t put on her ankle restraints, though he had left her locked in her suite. She was a provider; she could no more think her way out of a locked room than could an animal. Or so he thought.

  Sunrise had let the Hightons misread her intelligence. Their arrogance made them careless. By closely watching her jailers, she had figured out the passwords that locked her suite, and tonight she used those codes to escape. Then she had stolen a palmtop. Such a small thing, a palmtop, but she had been forbidden to use the technology Aristos took for granted. Supposedly she was incapable of understanding it. Perhaps that was true for some providers; she didn’t know. But she had made the palmtop do what she wanted, disguising the signature emitted by her collar so she could flee the estate.

  She had to leave this place fast, before her disguise failed. A provider couldn’t travel alone; if she tried, the authorities would contact her owner. That would be good, but only if their records listed Corbal. The starport was her best hope, if she could find her way without alerting Raziquon.

  So she ran, desperate, fleeing from one unknown to another.

  After preparing Tarquine Iquar’s financial report, the Iquar Accounting Office sent the report to the Committee on Ethics and Morals for the Ministry of Finance, which went over it in detail, making changes, and then sent it to the Protocol Office at the Qox palace, which went over it in detail, making changes, then released it to the palace Ethics and Morals Committee, which made changes and released it to the Accounting Office, which had numerous questions for the Ethics and Morals Committee, which contacted the Protocol Office, which contacted the Ethics and Morals Committee at the Finance Ministry, which contacted the Iquar accountants.

  Eventually, after the palace accountants investigated, reinstated, recovered, and otherwise put back what everyone else had deleted, added, and changed, they sent the report to the emperor. When Jai opened the huge file at the console in his office, he had a complete record of where it had been and who had done what to it before the file reached him.

  “Good gods,” he muttered to Robert. “This is crazy.”

  “They have your best interests in mind.” Robert assured him. He was sitting next to Jai with his comp screen unrolled in his lap. “Your staff wishes to ensure you receive a full accounting of your betrothed’s assets, and that no awkward questions arise when you and Minister Iquar combine assets.”

  “That they feel the need to do so many checks doesn’t exactly ease my mind.” Jai motioned at the document on his screen. “Tarquine’s accountants hid her investments in the Sapphire Sector platinum mines. Ethics and Morals at the Finance Ministry put it back in, Protocol here took it out, and our Ethics and Morals people put it back in.” He scowled at Robert. “Why the blazes would anyone care if my future wife invests in platinum?”

  “Perhaps because of the shortage?”

  Jai just barely restrained his groan. Apparently he was about to learn yet another fact he should have already known. “What shortage?”

  When Robert hesitated, Jai understood: Aristos took exception to having a taskmaker lecture them. But they weren’t stupid; they knew they needed the expertise of their staffs. Taskmakers walked a precarious line between being invaluable and becoming a threat by knowing too much.

  “Go ahead,” Jai said.

  “Most platinum comes from asteroids in the Platinum Sectors,” Robert said. “The mining operations were hit hard during the war. Now we have a shortage.”

  “I take it Sapphire Sector doesn’t have a shortage.”

  “You are perceptive.”

  Jai answered dryly. “And you’re a diplomat.” It didn’t surprise him to find Tarquine in the middle of this. Platinum had great economic value; many technologies used the metal. A shortage could provide a windfall for a financially savvy person—including one who shouldn’t be exploiting her knowledge to her own financial gain.

  “Let me guess,” Jai said. “Tarquine used her connections as Finance Minister to buy up huge quantities of Sapphire Sector platinum at a price that undercut the market. Her accountants don’t want us to know, the ethics committees do want us to know, and my protocol people don’t want it to appear I’m involved in this questionable ‘little’ business.”

  Robert gave a strained smile. “That about sums it up.”

  Jai swore under his breath. “This could backfire on us.”

  “The Protocol Office can offer guidance for dealing with political sh
rapnel.”

  “I’d rather not be hit.” Disheartened, Jai scrolled through the immensely annotated report. If the rest of his betrothed’s finances were as bad as the bit with platinum, he was in deep, deep trouble.

  He turned to Robert, and a difference registered on him. “You’ve a new collar.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Does this one fit better?”

  “Much better, Your Highness.”

  “Good.” It wasn’t good, it was appalling, but at least Robert would be more comfortable. “Let me know if you have any more trouble.”

  “I will, sir.” Although outwardly Robert showed little emotion, surprise came from his mind. Jai’s grandfather, the last emperor Robert had known, would have never bothered to ask such a question. Jai gritted his teeth. He wondered how his purportedly esteemed predecessor would have felt if he had had to wear one of the wretched things.

  A light blinked on his console. Jai tapped it with his finger. “Yes?”

  “Your Highness, this is Vitar Bartholson in Security.”

  Jai froze. Vitar. It was his younger brother’s name. Memories flooded him: Vitar laughing, running after him, or entreating his big brother for a ride. It was several moments before he could answer. “Is there a problem?”

  “Not exactly,” Bartholson said. “The Domestic Affairs Office contacted us. They intercepted a message sent to the Xir estate on Glory.”

  Jai sighed. Gods forbid someone should say, Your Highness, we received a message through proper channels without spying on anyone. “What did it say?”

  Excitement leaked into Bartholson’s voice. “The authorities on Halizon Two have Xir’s provider. Sunrise.”

  Jai sat up straighter. “Are they certain?”

  “They say so.”

  Although Jail would need more verification, it sounded far more promising than their other leads. “How is she?”

  A pause. “She will be all right.”

  “That isn’t what I asked.”

  Vitar audibly exhaled. “She has had a difficult time, Your Highness. But she will recover.”

  “I hope so.” Jai turned to Robert. “What do we know about Halizon Two?”

  Robert had already brought up the information. He studied his screen. “It’s the second planet in the Halizon system of Emerald Sector. Lord Jaibriol Raziquon owns it.”

  Pah. Jai hadn’t liked Raziquon when they had met in Kaliga’s home, and he liked him even less now. On the comm, he said, “Major Bartholson, have Sunrise brought to the palace.” Grimly he added, “And arrest Jaibriol Raziquon.” It would enrage the Hightons, especially Raziquon’s kin, given the lack of evidence, but Jai couldn’t delay. The longer Raziquon had to prepare himself, the less chance they had of bringing him to justice.

  Jai had no intention of letting him escape.

  19

  Ceremony

  The palace media people spent most of the three months after Jai became emperor building up his wedding. By the time the day came, estimates placed the number of news services that would carry the broadcast in the billions. Jai tried not to think about it. He was in a daze, moving by rote, going where his aides sent him, wearing what his valets put on his body, and saying what protocol wrote.

  They outfitted him in startling clothes. The black cloth felt soft but glittered like gems, an effect enhanced by holographic fibers. Elegantly cut trousers accented the length of his legs. A tunic set off the breadth of his shoulders and tapered to his hips, tailored to display his physique. They said the cloth alone cost thousands. Jai would have taken it all off right then if his valets hadn’t stopped him. They added a black belt inset with carnelian stones. Red gems encrusted his shirt cuffs, and a clasp of carnelians set in a gold claw closed the high neck of his tunic. Black shoes and gloves completed the picture. When Jai looked in the mirror, a stranger in immaculate formal attire gazed back, his eyes like rubies. Vertigo swept him; he had lost Jai and found Jaibriol III.

  The suite where his valets dressed him was furnished in ivory, with gold accents. In his dark clothes, he felt like a shadow on the decor. At least he wasn’t the only one; his bodyguards also wore black. Omnipresent and unavoidable, they had become so much a part of his life that he felt odd when they left the room, as if he had misplaced something he had no wish to find.

  His refusal to let his bodyguards approach him too closely had added to his reputation for eccentricity. He was slowly replacing them with Razers who had too little Aristo heritage to exert pressure on his mind. He couldn’t do it all at once, lest he draw attention to himself, but each replacement helped.

  Now he stood restlessly while his valets straightened his tunic. He wished they would stop fussing. Surely the Eubian Concord would survive if a hair on its emperor’s head was out of place. He sometimes thought his ministers just wanted him to stand around looking hologenic, to benefit their propaganda machine, while they ran his empire.

  The door across the room opened, and a tall man strode into the room. The valets stopped their ministrations so they could bow to the newcomer. Jai didn’t feel up to facing Corbal now, but here was his cousin, resplendent in elegant clothes, dark blue with gold holoribbing on the cuffs and high neck.

  Too agitated for any more preparations, Jai dismissed his valets, standing his ground when they resisted. Finally they departed, leaving him to Corbal’s nuanced arrogance.

  It was hard to believe nearly three months had passed since Corbal’s release. About the same time that Sunrise had escaped, Corbal’s security people had proved the records of her supposed crime were false. The case against Corbal had already been weak; the new evidence left ESComm no choice but to release him. He hadn’t exactly been the worse for wear, given the luxury of the mansion where he had lived, the many taskmakers who had waited on his every whim, and the providers ESComm had lavished on him in the hopes of spying on his mind. He returned looking as if he had been to a resort. Only Jai had felt the anger underlying his facade of nonchalance; the high lord of the Xir Line would not soon forget what had happened.

  Corbal gave him an appraising look. “Your bride will be pleased.”

  Pleased indeed. More likely, she would feed him to venom-eels. Jai had seen nothing of Tarquine since their betrothal. She had gone off-planet soon after, to attend to her various estates in preparation for her upcoming change in status. Today, when he stood in the Hall of Octagons to wed his bride, he would speak vows with a stranger.

  “If she recognizes me,” Jai said.

  Corbal spoke dryly. “She recognizes your title.”

  Jai wished Corbal would quit harping about Tarquine wanting his power rather than him. Knowing it was true didn’t make it any easier to hear.

  “ESComm seems busy these days,” Jai said.

  “So does the Ministry of Finance.”

  Damn. Corbal wouldn’t let it go even now. Well, tough. He could express his disapproval from today until forever; Jai had no intention of changing his mind. He knew why Corbal hated the idea of his marriage; it would increase the influence held by the Line of Iquar, rivaling the Line of Xir. That was just fine with Jai; Tarquine and Corbal could wear themselves out sparring with each other for power and leave him alone.

  A knock came at a small door behind Jai. Relieved to escape Corbal’s scrutiny, Jai turned to one of his Razers. The guard bowed, acknowledging the unspoken command. He opened the door to reveal Robert.

  The aide hurried inside, beaming, dressed in his elegant best, dark blue trousers and tunic with the Qox insignia on the chest. When he knelt to Jai, his body seemed to vibrate with energy.

  “Please rise,” Jai said.

  Robert almost jumped to his feet. He grinned. “You will dazzle your bride, Your Highness.”

  Jai couldn’t help but smile. At least Robert, who loved pomp and circumstance, was enjoying this wedding, more even than he had taken pleasure in the recent celebrations for Jai’s eighteenth birthday. It hadn’t really been Jai’s birthday, but Corbal had i
nsisted on that date and Jai hadn’t argued. For Jai’s story about his Highton mother to be convincing, he needed a birth date from before his father disappeared rather than after.

  Jai rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the kinks. He wished he could relax, but nothing helped. For all he knew, Tarquine wouldn’t even show up. “Has Minister Iquar arrived yet?” he asked, for the fifth time.

  “Ah, yes, Your Highness.” Robert gave him a reassuring look. “She and her retinue are secluded in the Obsidian Wing of the palace.”

  “I hope she survives her valets better than I have mine.”

  Corbal was watching him with amusement. “Don’t women call their helpers something other than valets?”

  It startled Jai now when Corbal used a more direct style of speech with him. Although Hightons spoke more openly among their nearest kin, Corbal didn’t really qualify as a close relative. But it was the best Jai would ever do, given that he could barely endure the presence of his other Highton kin.

  “I don’t have much experience with what words women use,” Jai admitted.

  Corbal’s lips quirked up. “One’s level of experience often increases.”

  Jai reddened, picking up what he meant by “experience.” There were times when he could have done without telepathy. The speculations of his kin and staff about his upcoming wedding night were more than he wanted to deal with right now.

  Apparently oblivious, Robert pulled his palmtop off his belt, all efficiency. Jai could tell, from Robert’s mind, that the aide knew exactly what Corbal had implied, but he took mercy on the frazzled groom and pretended otherwise.

  Robert waved his finger through a blinking holo above his palmtop. Then he looked at Jai, composed, but with underlying excitement. “They are ready, Your Highness.”

  Jai was glad at least one of them was enjoying this. “Very well.” He fortified his resolve. “Lead on.”