The Kinship of Stars

by Julie Ishaya

  Asmodéus meditated on this for a long time, readily seeing Adam's features underlining his own, but the androgynous beauty of his grandchild did not exist there anymore. Kieriell's features had found a purity all their own, matching the wide curiosity and wisdom ever present in his eyes. So young and yet already so old. Asmodéus blinked away a bleary film that fell over his eyes, and he felt in that moment as if he could never, if the throne depended on it, deny Kieriell anything. You've weakened over that boy, he told himself.

  At that moment the system sent him a silent notification of a report from the frontier coming in. The wait was over. He hastened into the central chamber and was glad to find the chamberlain's masked face already filling the screen.

  "My friend," the emperor greeted. "How do you fare?"

  "Well enough considering the company I keep here," the other replied with dry humor.

  "The reports on the opening talks appear to be positive so far. What news do you have for me in general?"

  The chamberlain neither shook his head nor nodded. "The court advisor needs some advice from the court. Rai Jinn is disputing the contract's condition of monitored aid to the Shiv."

  "Doesn't surprise me. I suppose they want unlimited aid?"

  "They stand to die out, my lord." No sympathy touched the statement. The chamberlain's patience had obviously undergone its own extreme trials.

  Asmodéus sighed. "Well, that is one means of keeping them from abusing the privileges unification would bring them." He touched a finger to his chin in thought. He was prepared to be as brutal as necessary with the situation. "Don't give ground to Rai Jinn yet," he said. "You might bargain with him on the degree of monitored aid. Nex may be more lenient if the Shiv were to share schematics for their primary weapons tech."

  "Exactly what kind of a response do you expect that to receive?"

  The emperor arched one brow as one of his more ferocious smirks twitched in the corner of his mouth. "They've accepted that securing unification is no easy task. Give them time; they'll lose their patience and eventually display their true nature, then the ballot will take its course. Tell them I intend to be their adversary until the very end. As for the contract, you still have three more conditions to cover. You may deliver your final report when you return to Dyss."

  The chamberlain nodded but then raised a hand to slide his fingers back under the hood, against his head. Wisps of hair escaped from beneath the hood and caught the light.

  The gesture disturbed Asmodéus. "What's wrong?"

  "Just fatigue. But don't worry, my wards are up. Dealing with Rai Jinn has meant blocking one psionic attack after another. His bitterness never wavers." He touched his temple again, shook his head.

  "I think of what happened to Kieriell, and I had planted wards in his psyche myself."

  "Yes, I know. I'm on my guard, make no mistake about it."

  "Be well, friend."

  "And you," the chamberlain replied before the screen blinked out. A dull greenish glow lingered, and Asmodéus wondered at it. Small solar flares from Arctus could cause abnormal screen effects but not something such as that glow. As the color melted from green to yellow, the hue reminded the emperor of Shiv eyes. Liquid yellow. The color of urine or decay.

  Then it vanished from the screen completely.

  Upon his return, the chamberlain demanded a period of rest for another full cycle before he would see anyone, including Kieriell, who thought this attitude out of character for his friend and mentor. He paced in his grandsire's chamber while muttering aloud that his teacher had never alienated him this way.

  (Don't stress yourself,) Asmodéus said. (The chamberlain is merely recovering from having to reinforce his defenses in the Shiv presence.)

  (Yes, the Shiv presence has suddenly become so ominous, hasn't it? Do you feel how close they are even though they're parked out on the frontier?) Kieriell watched his grandsire's gaze trail down toward the floor in thought and realized how paranoid the question sounded. Nearly two and a half years and he still had not forgotten Rai Jinn's mindsting.

  (Ominous,) Asmodéus agreed. He determined that Kieriell and Adam would both attend the private conference during which the chamberlain would make his report.

  When the chamberlain did finally emerge, Kieriell met him in the corridor, both of them en route for a repast in the emperor's chamber. Kieriell couldn't help noticing how dark the chamberlain's eyes appeared, a tinge of serpentine red glinting through the slanted holes. He had so rarely seen those eyes shift before. The chamberlain always had such control, such rock-hard strength over the mind-flesh link.

  The chamberlain obviously noticed his pupil staring. "Forgive me," he said. "I'm afraid my own defenses have pushed the boundaries so far as to affect my manners." He rubbed the back of his temple where it met the edge of his mask.

  They reached Asmodéus' chambers and found the emperor and the crown prince waiting. With very little preamble, the emperor opened the discussion. (While the rest of Nex will be preparing to enter the negotiations, we must deal with the fact that this ballot is the one of greatest historical precedent. Never before have the Shiv been given such a deep glimpse of Nex's micro-structures and the complications of our own governing system. We allowed this at the insistence of the adversaries, who will be entering the negotiations next.)

  (The adversaries will attempt to set other terms of their own,) Adam added. (They'll try to win the favor of the kai.)

  (They already have his favor,) the chamberlain added. (When I argued the condition for nutriment aid in exchange that they share their weapons technologies, Rai Jinn commented that he was sure the adversaries would grant it without any sanctions.)

  (That's only one end that will need tightening. I'm not trying to make my position any easier, but the code for adversarial challenges could grow to be abused.) Asmodéus paced and fingered his chin.

  (So how would you prevent that?) Kieriell asked. (Nexian law protects the adversaries as long as they perform acts of constructive challenge. They could easily claim that motive by aiding the Shiv and saying the rest of Nex needs to keep up. How do we set that act apart from any other that they might perform as political duty? The most we can do is demonstrate patience.)

  (He's right.) Adam sat back deeply in his seat and crossed his arms.

  (Suppose,) the emperor continued, (that we could limit the adversaries by insisting that if they want to give feed the Shiv in exchange for nothing then it must come from their own hands. The Dyssian Order can refrain from granting any specific area of aid whenever it chooses.)

  The chamberlain looked at him. (The adversaries will then say that you are biased toward the Valtaerian situation. They'll say that your mind is too much in that world and not enough in Nex. After all, at the time the negotiations began, you were in Nall working on the wall project. That was simply poor timing, but they will use it against you. Besides, the adversaries have long since come to resent their own offices, and if aiding the Shiv means that they can gain any favorable association then they will override your authority.)

  Asmodéus gave a minute sigh of a growl. (It seems inevitable that unification must happen. If we put off the Shiv any longer, we stand to be at war.)

  (The Shiv will find soon enough that it's really up to them if they're going to survive,) Kieriell added. (Nex will have little to do with it, the adversaries included. A war won't solve anything.)

  (At least there is still no rush in this,) Adam commented, (and the other lords will support the throne no matter what. Lord Astar'Æth has expressed a low tolerance of the Shiv. Especially after—) He gave a nod to Kieriell, who realized his father was referring to the incident of Rai Jinn's mindsting. Kieriell had only met his uncle twice in his last two years on Nex, but he had learned that Astar'Æth viewed the incident, especially being carried out during a consulate meeting, as tactless and bad manners.

  (But my brother is not so hindered.) Asmodéus stopped moving about the room and stood before the screen, his ba
ck to the others, his form silhouetted against the screen. His head dipped forward in a manner that suggested the burdens biting at his mind. (No matter that the final decision will come from the ballot, it will always rest on my head. When the time is right I will call a meeting of the consulate to target adversarial activity with the Shiv. If Nehmon, Mantus, and MÆ'lech wish to play up to their offices out of spite for Nex's ancient foundation and we unify with the Shiv, the adversarial position could degrade to nothing but a menace. There will no longer be any constructive purpose in their challenges.)

  Kieriell sat forward, concern stressing his face. (What will you do?)

  (I'll make them an offer,) Asmodéus replied. He turned from the screen with a neutral facade though spokes of red began to emerge in his eyes. (The consulate will vote on a contract to abolish the adversarial orders in the event of unification.)

  16

  "Well, I guess change is due to happen one way or another," Adam commented over first repast in the dim banquet hall. "A change in the lighting would be good." The minor joke went unnoticed. He looked across the dining table at Kieriell, who stared at nothing while nibbling on little tears of bread from his plate.

  The hall held a chill in the early cycle, the nip of simulated dawn. Staff moved about from the kitchen to the table, clearing away utensils left by the previous diners.

  "He can't abolish the adversarial orders," Kieriell murmured. Fatigue laced his voice. "I spent the last two years just getting used to their purpose." When Adam waved a hand in front of his son's face, Kieriell blinked, looked up, and murmured, "Huh?"

  Adam speared a piece of meat but failed to lift it to his mouth. "Kieriell, Nex is in for a few internal tests of its own." He felt tired just looking at his son, at the sagging shoulders. Rubbing at his eyes, he realized that his own body demanded release from the tension pulling every muscle and nerve asunder at the least thought of unification. He imagined how tense Asmodéus must feel.

  "But the adversaries have held their offices from the beginning."

  "Yes, only to develop a nasty resentment toward the rest of Nex for putting them in such positions."

  Kieriell vacantly dropped the breadcrumbs from his fingers and leaned back in his chair. "But tradition?"

  "Traditions become corrupted over time," Adam replied. "Look at it this way. Suppose you were born into an adversarial order. Your office is to dispute the stability of Nex. Everything you do is a test of will for the emperor and the other orders, to keep them alert and aware that every point has infinite degrees surrounding it. Nothing you do can be held against you, and after a while you become a figure of hate. You are never held in any favor, never looked to for support. The adversaries hold the worst and most lonely offices of all."

  Kieriell sat forward again, elbows on the table, his chin resting in his folded hands. "But," he argued softly, "if the adversaries eventually come to hate their offices, then why not just give them shorter terms? Let them retire sooner. If their purpose is to constructively challenge the rest of Nex, annoying though they seem, then why not give them some sort of reward? Retirement would allow them to slip back into a favorable existence. They should act in the line of duty, not spite."

  "Why don't you make that proposal to Asmodéus? Shortening the adversarial term of office surely would bring some kind of relief to Nex in the event of unification."

  "Of course," Kieriell added, tilting his head as if he would counter his own proposal, "the adversaries would be required to produce their heirs sooner than the other lords."

  "That's right," Adam sighed, tapped his fingers on the tabletop and nudged his plate aside. "Look," he finished, "Father is sending me back to Hella briefly to discuss the abolition proposal with Lord Astar'Æth, just to get an estimation of how the other neutral lords will probably feel about it. They won't all hear the proposal until it's polished up. I'll get back in the evening period and we can continue this discussion then with Asmodéus." Adam searched Kieriell's face for a sign of agreement, then he pushed his chair back and straightened his collar and tunic. "Well, I'll be going then. What plans do you have?"

  "Just a tutorial with the chamberlain."

  "You two have quite a bit to cover, I suppose."

  "When will Asmodéus relieve you of ambassadorship?"

  The question stopped Adam in mid-rise from his chair so that he sat back down for a moment. "Soon," he replied softly, and added, "I hope. Perhaps he is just waiting until the negotiations are over." But he knew that he was only making excuses. Seeing the disappointment persist on Kieriell's face, Adam tried to brush aside his own irritation with the matter. "The abolition issue shouldn't be discussed on the open link. I'll have to see Astar'Æth in person, but I won't be gone long."

  Kieriell nodded understanding and got up from the table. He followed his father out into the central corridor. They lingered uneasily, feeling that there was more to say, not knowing what words to use. Kieriell finally muttered, "Well, later."

  Adam nodded and started to turn away when a flash of light recaptured his attention. He turned back in time to see the last tiny cluster of stars fade. Kieriell was gone. Adam proceeded to the shuttle bay to board for Hella.

  Kieriell manifested outside the aperture and began to pace as he waited for the chamberlain to emerge. The outer corridor's silence tickled down his arms, his spine. He paused to reach his senses just beyond the door, to give some gentle indication that he had arrived.

  (Chamberlain?)

  At first there was no answer, but then the aperture widened open, and the chamberlain stepped calmly out into the corridor, light dashing off his mask. Kieriell backed away, his face reddening as though he had been caught eavesdropping.

  "Kieriell, what's wrong?"

  "Uh, I was waiting for you." He swallowed. "I didn't mean to intrude." Kieriell stiffened now, alarmed by the cloudy sense of emptiness swathing the surface of his mentor's mind.

  "Nonsense, you aren't intruding."

  "What is going on? You didn't answer me when I sent to you, and it's like you're so—" He searched for the right, inoffensive term, but only found one way to put it. "Far away." He clamped a concerned hand down on the other's shoulder.

  "Besides bearing the shift, I've had my wards fortified." He quickly, but with a stiff movement, removed Kieriell's hand.

  "I see." Kieriell looked absently at his palm as though he might find therein the reason why he felt so rebuked now.

  "I'm afraid," the chamberlain added in a manner of confession, "that I won't be much of a teacher for now."

  "Then we will just talk."

  The eyes inside the mask closed, pained, accompanied by a long, almost tired, exhalation that sounded hollow.

  Kieriell gestured toward the passage. "To the green room?"

  There was hesitation, then a nod. The eyes opened, now clear and green. The chamberlain moved ahead with his pupil. They made their way down the corridor to the lift, then they stepped into the flat silence of the compartment. As they sped downward through the levels, the cold lights overhead made streaking patterns off the mask when the chamberlain reached up to lift it from his face.

  An almost sickening jolt of surprise speared through Kieriell's chest and he gave the chamberlain a questioning look. It seemed like slow motion as the mask lifted up and pulled free emitting a soft sucking sound as air rushed upon the exposed skin. The aging face beneath still bore most of its Nexian beauty, but there was something more: a scar.

  Coursing down across the face from the forehead, between the pale brows and the nose, over one of the high cheekbones, the pearly line of tissue disappeared somewhere beneath the ear.

  The chamberlain attached the silver piece to his belt. No longer pushed back by the edge of the mask, hair spilled forward over the angled features. A single waving lock fell just over the pattern of the scar as if to conceal it. "I'm tired of hiding behind this thing." The statement awaited a response from the speechless pupil.

  "That scar," Kieriell whi
spered. "You've been hiding it. Never mind your official duties. You've been hiding that all this time." The other features seemed lost to him as his attention followed only the path of the scar.

  "A symbol of weakness which I have dealt with for a long time," the chamberlain replied.

  Kieriell wanted to step forward and lend some comfort, but he did not know how without being offensive. Nexian issues of strength and weakness could not be touched upon lightly. By the code he should acknowledge that the scar was indeed a symbol of weakness in the chamberlain, and the chamberlain should not expect him to think otherwise.

  "I had wanted," the other continued, his face angling down, "to retire before this ballot came to pass, but your grandsire asked me to keep my office and also teach you."

  Kieriell remained stunned.

  "I didn't mean that the way it sounded," the chamberlain added quickly. "Working with you, Kieriell, has made keeping my office worthwhile more than anything."

  "You were going to retire?"

  "Kieriell, I am over two millennia old, older than your grandsire. I'm at the end of my time."

  "Don't say that."

  "Oh, I have perhaps a half-century left to me." Then the chamberlain had him by the shoulders, the movement so quick that Kieriell's heart caught on a beat, and he felt the weight of his mentor's stare as the red hues crept back into the green. "No matter what happens," the chamberlain almost growled, "please hold nothing against me."

  The lift came to a stop and the doors opened with a sharp hiss-scrape of hydraulics and metal. Intent on deciphering that last whispery plea, Kieriell half-jumped at the noise. He pulled his gaze away from the older face and led the way down the corridor of polished wall, past the aperture that enclosed the old escape shuttle. He heard the following footsteps pause and he stopped to look back, finding that the chamberlain stood stone-still while staring at the escape route door and the ancient Nexian lettering above.