The Kinship of Stars

by Julie Ishaya

  Siri glanced at Rai Jinn, found him too cold, his eyes scrutinizing. Then she bowed her head, inwardly cursing her own ignorance. She should know more about Nexian laws, and more about her father's intentions and his political relationship with the Nexian emperor Asmodéus. But she knew nothing of these things, and to that she added that she knew absolutely nothing about Kieriell Shyr'ahm.

  24

  Adam stalled in his considerations for the Nexian reforms. All of his proposals were aimed towards a means of convincing the Shiv to hand Kieriell over alive and healthy.

  Too personal, he thought, I'm making it all too personal. He shuffled through the documents on the desk in his office and with a groan drew back and rubbed at his eyes.

  Within the last day cycle, he and Asmodéus had probed the library for old accounts of political reforms in Nex undertaken by any of the previous six Asmodéuses. Anything that could help them find a place to begin with the new proposals. The delicacy of the situation called for hard research. Together they had found over four-hundred unprocessed files, some in books, others in folios. Adam took these to his office, while Asmodéus returned to his chambers to undergo a link with the system and search through the records in the neural core's storage cells.

  I always end up with the paper work, Adam thought. But the project was so crucial. Kieriell's life might depend on it, and the future of Nex might be secured in it. Still, Adam couldn't help rolling his eyes at the stack of folios on one corner of the desk and the tower of thick logbooks on the other. Between the two stacks, at the front of the flat top, the box holding Kieriell's unworn official's mask sat closed. Adam had put it there for motivation since every time he looked at the rest of the work ahead of him, he felt hopeless.

  Asmodéus expected a report by the end of the next full cycle, plus the emperor would provide a report of his own. Father and son would compare their options. Then they would develop a composite report to present to the consulate.

  Adam thought of Asmodéus in his own chamber working equally as hard to find an answer to the recent chaos. In fact, he could sense the emperor's presence in the system now, radiating through the walls along with the neural threads running into the core. Such furious activity prompted Adam to pick up a stylus and select another folio. He opened the collections of crisp, yellowed sheets covered in horizontal rows of more ancient Nexian text, still comprehensible because little of the Nexian language had changed throughout its history. Possibilities emerged and faded as he read on.

  Hope and despair and hope again washed through him. And finally—ultimately—he could not tell one from the other.

  Kieriell paced, eyes closed tightly as he considered options for escape. His inner vision flashed over various paths of corridor through which he had passed, from the exit tube of the Shiv craft to the balcony over the upper colony.

  "No," he said under his breath, "I've got to get out of the palace first." He massaged at the bridge of his nose with pinched fingers. Opened his eyes and looked down to watch his steps. One foot moved before the other. Turn. Back, four steps. Turn. His body almost operated on its own while his mind concentrated on the fuzzier areas of memory, like when he had first come off the shuttle and been drugged so that the kai's attendants could bathe him. He could recall fragments of corridors, being jerked in one direction or the other, but the corridors here were as confusing as Nex had been in the beginning.

  He started over, eyes squeezing shut again. "Then there was the slab." He shivered at the memory of the neural flesh slithering around him, at the slime and the constriction around his limbs and head. He could still hear the slurping and rustling closing in on him. He stopped pacing to concentrate on breathing away those recollections; they could never be helpful. Better to let it all go. His thoughts skipped to the moment in which he faced Siri and told her that he would not give her a child.

  He had to admit, the idea was not unthinkable. A child conceived by a Nexian-Shiv coupling would, as the kai had decreed, become a symbol of unity for both races. But the kai's scheme among a host of other critical issues to replicate the gridcode, among a host of other critical issues, tamped down the whole idea.

  It's got to stop somehow, he thought, a knot building in his throat. One way or another. And though he had been successful at using his mouth as a means of revolt, he had not truly fought back. He had his share of bruises, bumps on the head, and scratches, but none of it accounted for anything.

  It's all up to me, he accepted with a gulp. He must find his own way out of the hive, and with growing complications; there was still the matter of finding a manually piloted ship with an inanimate engine structure to get him back to Nex. "But how?" he groaned loudly.

  "How what?" a timid female voice asked in Nexian.

  He opened his eyes, facing the upper half of the cell wall, and sighed. He didn't have to turn toward the field to know that Siri was standing on the other side. He had been expecting her for a while.

  "Do you talk to yourself a lot?" she asked.

  "Not aloud," he answered, "but right now it's just a little hard to think with this thing on my head." He carefully laid three fingers against the inhibitor.

  "It's to protect you," she said shortly. "I told you that."

  Slowly he turned to see her, just as she had looked in the balcony corridor, with that perpetually surprised look in her eyes, awe visible in the part of her lips. "Don't you have other things to do, Lady Siri, besides visit me?"

  She looked down and away, and he knew how easily he could play with her if he desired. One hateful word could crush her. Those pleading eyes of hers, and her innocence, moved him otherwise. She knew no other life than that of the hive and the darkness under her father's reign. That he was even considering this made him feel weak, his Nexian heritage diminishing before him.

  He thought how he might change everything for her, bring her to understand that he must be freed. If he could find the right words to really reach her, he might even—he loathed himself for even thinking it, but he was desperate—seduce her. He might talk of starlight, or the full color spectrum as it could not be seen within the hive. He could describe rich, hot foods, or sandy beaches. Before giving any further consideration that might cause him to stall, Kieriell moved up to the field and looked at her as if through crimson glass.

  He pulled the first question right off the surface of his brain. "Siri, have you ever tasted fruit?" He wondered briefly where he really thought this approach was going.

  She frowned, her mouth pursing to grasp the Nexian word. "Fruit?" Her accent came out thick.

  He shrugged. "Like berries?" From her oblivious stare, he knew that didn't sink in. Of course, he rationalized, she's never seen any kind of fruit, just that muck nutrient compound. "It's the tissue around a plant's seeds," he explained. "It tastes sweet. . . you know, and juicy."

  "Its tastes good?" She leaned eagerly closer to the field.

  "Yes." Kieriell reached up and clamped his hands on the passage frame to each side of the glowing red doorway. Relaxing on his arms, he bowed his head to level his vision with hers. "Have you studied any books?"

  She nodded happily. "I know the history of the Shiv and how—" She looked down in embarrassment. "I know how we began our decline as the stars died out in our system."

  "And you've followed the conflict of your people with the government of Nex?" He realized his tone sounded somehow rude, like he was evaluating her intelligence.

  "Yes, but. . ." She frowned, tilting her head slightly. "I have watched my father and your grandsire at odds with each other."

  "Sounds like where I'm coming from. Are you tired of it?"

  "Yes," she sighed. "I think the Shiv colonies are tired of it, too, but they have little say-so in the matter."

  "Why? Doesn't your father listen to them so that he can better run his government?" In this he did mean to probe how much she knew.

  "My father and Rai Jinn are the Shiv government."

  "Oh." Maybe she wasn't so blind
after all.

  "But," she plunged on hopefully, "I have heard my father comment that he finds the Nexian system admirable. He thinks that your adversarial orders are a brilliant means of inner trial and error."

  "Uh, sort of."

  "They aren't helpful then?" She was frowning again.

  "Well, they are helpful on some accounts," he admitted, "but mostly they just make you want to hit them in the mouth." This provoked a giggle from her, a playful but muted sound that Kieriell actually liked. He could have gone on to explain how adversarial challenges worked, and that they could be quite frustrating to deal with, but to do so might ruin the moment. He stared at her for a long time, wondering what other qualities lay in there, behind those huge eyes. Her pupils had closed to fine lines, so that the gold of her irises dominated, and he made out the more metallic spokes gleaming back at him. He asked softly, "How old are you, Siri?"

  "Seventeen," she replied, "in Shiv years." She sounded proud of the fact.

  My age when I first came to Nex, he thought.

  "What is that you wear around your neck?"

  He glanced down then remembered that his school medallion had survived. He pinched the disk between his fingers and fidgeted it back and forth on the cord. "It's the honors from the school I attended on Valtaer."

  "What school?"

  "The Ariahm School." He realized an explanation was necessary. "Ariahm was a half-breed like me, born of a Nexian father and a Valtaerian mother. He opened many Valtaerians to psionic abilities. The school is a disciplinary academy. I guess my father thought it would be a nice touch for me to attend."

  "That's neat," she chirped. "So some Valtaerians have psionics?"

  "Yes, but their psionics have to be conditioned. Valtaerians aren't born psions in the way that we are. . . Shiv and Nexians, I mean.

  Lost in thought on a new approach to undertake, he grasped for experiences to share: blue skies on Valtaer, green grass, flowers, moonlight on water, the wall shimmering during a storm.

  Before she could ask more questions, he began simply to talk. Just talk. Words full of images spilled out about his two homes on Valtaer and Nex. He started with how he missed sea breezes and tide pools and how his move to Nex had changed his routines. Then he touched on the glittering effect of the plasmic trails left by the Nexian galleons as they cleared the nexus. He mentioned the taste of fresh, cold water sweetened with drops of berry juices. He talked until he was sick of his own voice, until his throat was parched and his sentences broke apart. He felt he could not say enough and by the time he hushed, he had taken a seat against the wall beside the field, his back to Siri. When he turned his head, he could see her out of the corner of his eye over his shoulder.

  She paced slowly for a while, listening, and then eventually sat cross-legged on the floor, facing straight into the cell. She traced imaginary patterns in the floor. "All of those things. . . they sound wonderful."

  Kieriell dropped his head forward as he drew his legs up to his chest. He didn't expect to totally move her in just one sitting, so for now he surrendered, rubbing at his eyes and sniffling. He was tired and wanted to sleep.

  "Kieriell?" she said, breaking the dull calm of exhaustion slinking into his brain. "There's something I don't understand."

  "What's that?" he asked, his voice grating.

  "Why is it that I could die if I try to have a Nexian-Shiv baby?"

  "Oh." He shuffled uneasily on his buttocks. "Back to that are we?" He began to pick himself up off the floor. Brutal honesty, he decided, was best, and he went about it the way his father had during one of those haphazard discussions on being Nexian. "My lady, that's an issue widely accepted on Nex. First off, the Nexian gene is the dominant gene. The child, half-breed or not, would be subject to its Nexian nature." And then there was the rest of it, he reminded himself. He stared down at Siri until she stood and smoothed out her tunic. "Women who are not Nexian rarely survive birthing a Nexian child." Now he moved away, propping one arm on the other and supporting his chin in his upturned palm. "My mother is Valtaerian. She was just lucky, I suppose, or it could be that she's very healthy and has a great will to live."

  "But. . ." She stepped closer. "Why do they die if they aren't Nexian?"

  He couldn't put it any plainer way. "The child can kill its mother."

  At this she blinked in shock.

  "Nexians are, after all," he added gently, "evolved from a very a primal form and nature. An infant might claw its way out of the womb, and there is no alternate means of birth. Nexian females release a hormone into their bloodstream that calms the infant in labor." He didn't look at her when he said this. Surely she understood now why he wouldn't take her.

  Siri lingered before the field, still as stone, while he hunched his shoulders slightly and swung his weight restlessly from one hip to the other.

  Enough said, he thought. Give it a rest.

  The silence was broken when Siri suddenly straightened and looked down the corridor. At the same moment Rai Jinn's voice called out, "My lady."

  Kieriell stopped moving around and straightened.

  The kai's second appeared beside her along with two guards, and Kieriell retreated to the other side of the cell.

  "My lord," Siri replied to Rai Jinn nervously. "The prince and I were just getting more acquainted. You know, if we are to be. . ." She looked at Kieriell with an embarrassed cringe.

  Kieriell pulled a fake smile and nodded.

  Rai Jinn looked skeptically from one to the other, then he raised his hand, holding his code key up to deactivate the field. "Of course, my dear," he said, though he sounded as if he only humored her. "Our guest has another meeting with your father."

  "Oh," she replied, "all right. I will speak to you again, Kieriell?" She was already turning to go, one shoulder shrugging up as she looked back at him.

  Kieriell thought the gesture quite appealing despite the sharply squared contour of bone in her shoulder that further betrayed her frailty. He nodded to her, then he looked back at Rai Jinn, and without a word, he obeyed the gesture to exit the cell.

  25

  Kieriell stopped in his tracks at the top of the winding stairwell and clenched his fists, prepared to fight. He felt the shift churn beneath the surface and his vision nearly blurred with the effort to keep it contained.

  Rai Jinn clutched his elbow. "Come on, prince, the kai wants to show you something."

  Kieriell jerked his arm free and turned blood-red eyes upon the Shiv. Gritting his teeth, he drew his lips back and hissed, "I will not go back to that place."

  Rai Jinn didn't back down. He took Kieriell's elbow again and pressed a sharp nail into the joint, pressuring the nerve. Pain coursed up Kieriell's arm and he had to remind himself that he could not manifest any shadow weapon at all.

  "You have no choice."

  Staring back down the well, Kieriell swallowed hard to chase away the acidic burning on his tongue. The energy sconces spiraled out of view, and he thought of what tests awaited him now.

  "Don't worry," Rai Jinn commented knowingly, "he doesn't mean to hang you up again. Not yet."

  That didn't comfort Kieriell in the least. He took the first few steps, heard the sound echo down the well. Rai Jinn stayed beside the captive until they reached the bottom of the steps, then Kieriell waited on the edge of the landing, for a moment hearing nothing but his own heartbeat. The kai's second dismantled the field guarding the door.

  "He's forgiving enough that you won't fuck his daughter," Rai Jinn said as he returned to Kieriell's side. "You really are in no danger of him."

  "Have you ever been hung on that wall?" Kieriell asked flatly, his voice fast dropping to a growl.

  Rai Jinn only gave him a sideways glance. When the door completed its security clearance and slid open, Kieriell braced himself, his inner body shaking, then he followed Rai Jinn forward, stalling in the open doorway. He looked around the laboratory, finding it the same as before, the walls laden with the neural flesh and install
ed with flickering monitors and consoles. But the atmosphere was different. The binding vines laid evenly against the wall, and the lights were dimmed to allow for a deeper illumination issuing from the center console. The tube module installed in the ceiling had been tucked away, but the monitors, that viewed the neural core, were still on full display.

  Kieriell focused on the center console. The light belonged to a massive, blue holographic image turning in midair. It formed a geometric pattern of lines, which seemed familiar to Kieriell. He looked at the silhouettes of the technicians, some studying the dominant image, others attending the wall screens and a console of test tubes set aside from all other objects. Kieriell recognized the kai's silhouette haloed by the blue glow, light glinting off the metallic surface of the artificial arm. He approached, visualizing himself raising his talon-tipped hands to clasp that slender, muscled throat and rip it apart. The shift's hold on his consciousness begged him to do it, the savage self offering to take over, to set him free once and for all.

  "You want to kill me so much," the kai said without one glimpse of the predator standing behind him. "The inhibitor may prevent me from reading you, but I can sense the true Nexian in you. It radiates like the heat from the fusion well."

  The truth of the statement reached Kieriell, and he pulled his dignity back into place, let the shift fade somewhat. He refocused on the holo image, squinting at the brilliance of the light, before he made out the full shape that the lines formed.

  The grid pattern branched out from the center triangle, forming the three dimensional image of the star tetrahedron formation. The projection only covered three levels of the star's inner structure, then it broke down to nothing before the console projected it again, building back up from the center. Over and over the image grew and flashed back to its beginning stage.

  "Fascinating, isn't it?" the kai remarked as Kieriell drew closer and stood beside him. "The girders of the multiverse, so delicate in appearance, beautiful, and yet holding everything in place."