Viquara, the third largest moon, wasn’t visible. Named for the third empress, it had a diamond surface. The fourth largest moon, G4, was reserved for the wife of Jaibriol II. With his father’s death, it fell to Jai to name it for the Highton mother who had supposedly birthed him. Although he could never acknowledge his true mother, he would find a name that honored her.
Jai couldn’t see the fifth largest moon, G5, but he had no doubt about its new name: Tarquine. How to resurface it was another question. Zara was already diamond, but many other hard, brilliant materials existed. Maybe he would use a steel-diamond composite. Perhaps he should ask Tarquine. Traditionally an emperor made the decision and then told his wife, but Jai valued his survival over Qox tradition.
He wondered what his descendants would do when they ran out of moons, or how the last few empresses would feel about having the small ones. It might behoove future emperors to create some bigger moons. The sky of Glory could end up as crowded as a starport concourse.
Leaning back on his hands, he gazed down the beach. A woman was coming toward him, accompanied by four Razers. A breeze ruffled her hair. The sensual quality of her walk came naturally, so much so that she had no sense of its effect. It wasn’t that no one had ever told her, but rather that she simply didn’t care. His wife was the antithesis of an ingénue, going so far in the other direction that she came full circle. Her complete disinterest in her own sensuality aroused him far more than any deliberate seduction.
When Tarquine reached him, she bowed.
“Join me,” Jai invited.
Tarquine sat near him while her Razers faded into the scenery. She said nothing, just gazed at the lake. It stretched for several kilometers, with fern trees swaying on its shores. Vines hung in loops from their branches, blooming with delicate gold and red balls. On every side, blue-gray mountains cut sharply against the sky.
“A beautiful day,” Jai said.
She slanted him a glance. “A good day for me to further the glory of your empire, Husband, by doing my job. As opposed to sitting around sunbathing.”
Jai imagined her sleek and dripping with water, lolling in the sun. “Everyone needs rest.”
To his surprise, Tarquine smiled. “The way you look at me sometimes, I wonder if you realize I’m not food.”
“I would never dare call you a sweet. You might pulverize me.” He was only half joking.
She actually laughed. “Ah, well. It is true, few would put Eube’s Finance Minister and sugar in the same thought.”
“Too much sweetness can be cloying.”
Tarquine considered him as if he were an impudent young man she had just met. “You prefer tart?”
He moved closer. “I do indeed.”
“You have a one-track mind, Husband.”
“I can’t help it, with you as my wife.”
She sighed. “Jaibriol, you are impossible. I should think you would have more reason to send an imperial summons for me than for us to begin the night early.”
Jai was tempted to tell her he could think of no better reason, but he held back. He could only push her so far before her annoyance at having her work interrupted would overcome whatever contributed to her good nature at the moment. And right now he needed that good nature.
“It would seem,” he said, “that one other matter would have to be attended first, before we enjoy the night.”
“One other matter?”
“A financial matter.”
“I deal with many financial matters.”
“A platinum matter.”
Tarquine frowned. “Perhaps you should be holding this discussion with the merchants from Platinum Sector. They are the ones who can’t mine enough metal from their asteroids.”
“Actually, I was thinking of Sapphires.”
Her good humor had vanished. “Cheap rocks.”
“Cheap platinum.”
“Perhaps the merchants in Sapphire Sector should learn how to bargain better.”
Jaibriol scowled at her. “No merchants, Sapphire or otherwise, could hold their own against a ministry that uses its financial influence to drive down the price and then buys up the available product.”
Tarquine didn’t look the least bit remorseful. “Such a ministry would be formidable indeed. If it existed.”
“Such a ministry could cause me a lot of grief.”
“Or bring you great wealth.”
“I already have great wealth.” Jai wished he could make her understand. “What I don’t have, Tarquine, is Aristo support. Now the Diamond Aristos in Sapphire Sector want me to investigate the financial activities of a certain ministry.”
Her look turned incredulous. “They dare suggest you investigate your own wife? Perhaps they would like to dine with our dear friend Raziquon.”
“For saints’ sake, Tarquine. I can’t keep throwing Aristos in prison.”
“Why not? A lot of them belong there.”
How could he get through to her? “Many would say the same about a minister who used—or should I say abused—her power to cheat an entire sector.”
“The Diamond Coalition wants something from you, Jai.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “You have to figure out what it is and give the bankers enough to make them think they worked a good bargain.”
That caught Jai by surprise. Corbal had told few people he was forming a partnership with the Diamonds, and Tarquine certainly wasn’t one of them. “You know about the Coalition?”
“Of course. Corbal is making a bank with them.”
Jai couldn’t hold back his frustration. “He’s worked on this for years. I’ve managed to ruin it in a few months.”
“You haven’t ruined it.” She watched him under half-closed lids. “He is repairing the breach even as we speak.”
“He is?” Corbal had given him no hint.
She tapped her long finger on his cheek. “The Coalition is testing you. Seeing how far they can push.”
“It’s gone beyond that. They want an investigation.”
“You give in too easily.”
He wanted to groan. “You don’t have the least bit of regret for what you did, do you?”
“I’ve done nothing, dear husband.”
“Yes, well, the nothing you’ve done is going to blow up in our faces.”
“That depends on how you deal with it.”
“And now you’re going to say I should refuse their demands, right? I can’t. It will only antagonize them more.”
“I would never suggest such a thing.”
Jai blinked. “You wouldn’t?”
“Of course not.” She smiled, resembling a cat that had caught a bird. “You must, of course, have an investigation.”
Jai shifted uneasily. “Why must I, of course, do that?”
“When your investigation turns up no wrongdoing by your beloved and loyal wife, the Diamond Coalition will have made an inexcusable mistake.”
“And what, pray tell, is that?”
“They would have wrongly accused me.”
“So?”
She laughed softly. “You are so green.”
“Fine.” Jai glared at her. “See if you can dye me a different color. Enlighten me.”
“Reputation is everything. Appearance means more than fact. A false accusation is a severe offense. A Line making such an accusation against the empress would suffer enormous shame.”
For all its bizarre logic, it actually made sense with what he had seen of Aristo society. “That’s all fine, Tarquine, but you missed one small point.”
“And what might that be?”
“The accusation isn’t false.”
“Oh, that.” She waved her hand. “It only needs to look false.”
Jai couldn’t believe this conversation. “The bigger the cover-up, the harder we will fall when it is discovered.”
“You are Qox. I am Iquar. We do not fall.”
Jai didn’t know whether to be appalled or awed by her attitude. “Gods help me, the day
I married you.”
She smiled blithely. “They did indeed.”
The conference center in the countryside outside Paris startled Kelric. He had never associated beautiful architecture with the home world of humanity. He had thought her people too pragmatic for such art, but apparently he had been wrong. The building soared on its hillside, an ethereal framework of gold with so many windows that it was more glass than metal. It sparkled in the streaming sunlight from Sol. The sky arched above, a heartrending shade of blue that he recognized at an instinctual level, though neither he nor his ancestors had lived on Earth for six thousand years.
He was visiting the center as a virtual simulacrum; his body remained in his chair in the War Room, linked through the psiberweb to a command center on Earth, which relayed the signal to the Allied United Centre in Paris where the peace talks would take place.
The air in front of Kelric shimmered. The light formed into his aunt Dehya, the Ruby Pharaoh. She walked to him, her hair swinging around her body. “My greeting, Kelric.”
He answered in English. “Hello.”
She smiled. “I didn’t know you spoke Earth languages.”
“Only a few words,” he admitted, switching into Iotic. He motioned around them. “What do you think?”
Dehya spoke wistfully. “It’s so incredibly beautiful.” She indicated the building. “It is hard to imagine we will meet with Hightons here.”
“I suppose the symbolism is good. I doubt the location really matters, though.”
“You don’t believe they’re coming to talk peace.” She didn’t make it a question.
“I don’t know what to think.” He began walking up the hill with her. “The more I learn about Jaibriol the Third, the less sense he makes to me.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t act like a Highton.”
She considered him. “You are the only one of us who can make that judgment with any reasonable accuracy.”
“That isn’t saying much.”
Dehya fell silent. When she finally spoke, her words jolted. “She is empress now. Will that matter to you?”
“No.” Tarquine Iquar was the last person he wanted to discuss.
“You’re sure?”
No, he wasn’t sure. He had no intention of admitting it. Instead he said, “In the past, the Traders have been false with us. They want to woo Earth as an ally, so they pretend to negotiate peace, then blame our bellicose nature when the talks fail.”
She spoke dryly. “Hightons thrive on misdirection.”
“Something about this emperor just doesn’t seem right.” Kelric smiled wryly. “Actually it does seem right. That’s the problem. He comes across as honest.”
She gave a soft laugh. “You’re right, that doesn’t sound Highton.” Her hair swirled in the breeze as they walked. Had they been on a real hill, they would have already reached the top, but Kelric had set the simulation to let him wander, so it kept extending the hill.
“He lived on Earth for over two years,” Dehya said. “He probably learned their customs.”
“I suppose.” Her guarded responses puzzled him. Then again, it was no wonder if she had conflicted feelings, knowing that Eldrin, her consort, was free only because the Traders exchanged him for Jaibriol III.
“How is Eldrin?” he asked.
She stared off in the distance. “He is fine.”
Kelric wondered if he could ever fully express his joy at having his brother safe. “I am glad he is home.”
“Yes.” She let a wealth of emotion show in that one word: gratitude, relief, love, and an underlying wish for vengeance against the Traders who had hurt the man she loved. Her manner was exactly what he would have expected. And yet it seemed off somehow. Her simulacrum could show whatever she wanted; she could easily hide her true mood.
Dehya glanced at him. “You stare at me most intently.”
“You know more than you say.”
She made an exasperated noise. “People always say this. ‘You know more.’ You would think my life was full of secrets. I’m afraid the reality is far more boring.”
Kelric had no doubt that his aunt, whom many called the “Shadow Pharaoh,” had more than her share of secrets. “I need to know. It could make a difference in how I deal with Qox.”
“I don’t know anything.” She drew him to a stop. “But I’ve wondered if a provider raised Jaibriol the Third rather than a Highton. It would explain his behavior.”
Although similar thoughts had occurred to Kelric, he found it hard to credit. “So where was the empress?”
“Dead, maybe.”
He frowned. “That boy has an odd history.”
Too odd. It made Kelric uneasy.
She ran through the night. Tree ferns blocked her way, and she plunged through them, scraping her skin. Her breath came in gasps. Still she ran. Raziquon was so close—
Sunrise sat up with a gasp, straining to scream, but she couldn’t make a sound. Gradually her pulse calmed. She was home. Home. Corbal lay next to her, sleeping. It was only a nightmare.
As she lay down, Corbal stirred. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
He pulled her close. “I will make him pay for what he did to you.”
“Cori—”
“Shhh.” He laid his finger on her lips. “I have a plan. Don’t worry.”
Sunrise tried to sleep, but long after Corbal’s breathing had deepened into a steady rhythm, she remained awake. For some reason, she felt convinced Corbal’s plan for vengeance would end up hurting him far more than Raziquon. Why? Why? She had to delve into her memories of Raziquon, hated as they were, and understand what disturbed her.
She couldn’t let Raziquon win.
25
Nanomeds
Four pirate frigates ambushed the Skolian yacht when the ship dropped out of inversion into normal space. Everyone knew the Eubian military denied such pirates existed, but the weapons on the frigates clearly came straight from ESComm.
Willex Seabreak owned the yacht. Born to a prosperous Skolian family, he had accrued even more wealth by designing virtual reality vacations for bored socialites. He had a good life—until the raiders showed up. They surrounded his yacht, matching speed as the ships hurtled through space. The yacht’s defenses were nothing compared to the firepower on the frigates. Seabreak took stock of his situation and made the only possible decision. He surrendered.
As Seabreak decelerated his ship, he told his passengers what was happening and asked them to gather in the lounge of the yacht. He tried to sound assured, but fear made him terse. He had more people onboard than usual: his girlfriend Saria, three other couples, and several entertainers, as well as his crew.
The computer system on one of the frigates infiltrated the yacht’s system and took over navigation, leaving Seabreak unable to pilot his craft. His presence on the bridge didn’t really matter then; he was needed more to provide moral support for his passengers. He joined them in the lounge, and everyone waited, their faces pale, all with the same question: Would the raiders take any of them to sell?
Standing next to Saria, Seabreak held her hand. The pirates had slowed the yacht’s rotation so they could dock with it, but they had left enough motion to create a light pseudo-gravity. Sweat beaded Seabreak’s forehead and dripped down his sides, under his shirt. The Traders didn’t need taskmakers: they had plenty. They wanted providers. The combination of mutated genes that produced empaths and telepaths was both rare and difficult to replicate in a lab. So the Traders abducted Skolian psions.
Saria watched him with a terrified gaze, and Seabreak swallowed against the lump in his throat. Her tawny hair, large green eyes, and angel’s face turned heads even in this age when anyone with a good income could fine-tune themselves to whatever ideal they admired. But he loved her because she responded with such sensitivity to other people. It wouldn’t surprise him if she was an empath. She might be exactly what the Traders sought.
After the ships do
cked, Seabreak left the lounge and went to meet his unwanted guests at the airlock. A large group boarded: three men with shimmering black hair and rust-red eyes, and ten mercenaries, hardened men and women in body armor.
The tallest of the red-eyed trio appeared to be in charge. With a mocking smile, he spoke to Seabreak in Skolian Flag. “My greetings, Captain.”
“You’re in Skolian territory.” Seabreak doubted they cared about the legality of their actions, but he had to try. “You’re violating the Halstaad Code and Skolian law.”
“But we aren’t at war, my friend. As for your laws—” The man shrugged. “I’m sure we’re in Eubian territory. By our laws, that makes you all escaped slaves.”
Seabreak stiffened. “We’re nowhere near your territory.”
The pirate waved his hand. “Would you care to tell my frigates? I’m sure their crews would be happy to debate with you.” Malice lurked in his smile. “Your choice of weapons.”
Seabreak knew his yacht couldn’t survive a battle with the frigates. “We’ve no wish for violence.”
“Well, then.” The Trader lifted his hand as if inviting him to dinner. “Shall we meet your passengers?”
Clenching his jaw, Seabreak led them to the passenger areas, aware of the raiders assessing him. They could have his ship and all the wealth onboard. Hell, they could have the codes to his accounts. He just prayed they didn’t take Saria or anyone else.
The pirates strode into the lounge as if they owned the ship, which for all practical purposes they did. They were well trained and didn’t seem at all bothered by the low gravity. They lined everyone along the bulkheads, men on one side, women on the other. When several passengers balked, the mercenaries drew their spikers, guns that could set a person’s nerves on fire with pain. No one protested further.
The Moon's Shadow (Saga of the Skolian Empire) Page 24