The Kinship of Stars

by Julie Ishaya

  Without thinking, he retreated into the cross corridor and stalled just within reach of the vines. Their tips brushed along his arms, provoking him to thrash away from them, and he made a forced decision to take the path to his right.

  As the neural flesh recognized his presence, it began to reach up from both sides, often entwining his elbows, but he tore free of it, gritting his teeth and cringing at that awful squealing within the walls.

  The corridor widened gradually, but the vines thickened. They dropped around him from the ceiling to wrap around his neck. He pulled at them to keep from strangling. Others found his legs and torso. One worked its way along his arm until it wrenched his hand free from the one around his neck, and he was almost pulled off the ground. The path behind him began to open up for his pursuers to come through. The guards were approaching ahead of Rai Jinn.

  Hapless abandon picked at his heart, and he wondered briefly what suspended animation would be like. His mind churning on this, he reacted. The entrapped arm pulled free, tearing the vines from the ceiling. More artificial screams came muffled from inside the rock. How these things could issue such a noise, he had no idea, nor time to ponder. He curled his talons up and shredded the rest of the vine. Clear, yellowish fluid rinsed onto him, but it had no effect as the balm had in the laboratory. He pointed his index finger and angled it with the vine around his neck. In a swift slash from ear to ear as though he were slitting his own throat, he split open the vine. More stuff poured out on him, slid down his chest, stained the tunic. The neural flesh in this section gave up, having sustained so much damage. It began to slink back just as the guards reached him. He recovered in time to turn and get his balance before he kicked out at the first armored figure. The guard staggered back while the force of the move also propelled Kieriell in the opposite direction. There were six of them behind him, followed by Rai Jinn.

  The corridor widened still, and when bright light spilled in through the circular opening up ahead, he knew where he was. The hot winds of the fusion well slowed him down. He threw a glance back to check his advance.

  Nowhere left to go.

  He burst through the opening and leapt over the steps down from the passage, and he cleared the distance to bound up onto the balcony wall, where he crouched to look back. Surprised shouts echoed from the opening only to be swallowed by a rumble from the well that unsteadied his hold on the wall. He dug in his claws and remained perched there, forcing his left hand to work. Wet strands of hair fell over his face and matted to his neck and shoulders. He turned feral eyes toward the guards who stalled in the opening, not sure what to do. They parted for Rai Jinn, who examined the serious route the pursuit had taken.

  "Kieriell Shyr'ahm," the kai's second said softly, holding out one hand to describe a gesture of peace. "You don't want to do that, do you?"

  Kieriell began to ease his legs over the side of the wall so that they dangled above the well. His claws bit into the stone and secured him to the lip while he banked all of his weight on his arms, keeping his torso up. "You think I'm just some thing to be used to suit your plans," he grated. "You're wrong."

  The well quaked more violently, almost shaking him free, but as his body started to drop, he bent his arms and clung to the wall. He kept his head and shoulders aloft and Rai Jinn still in sight, but he was distracted when the kai and his daughter stepped out of the passage.

  Kieriell felt his heart slam at the sight of Siri. Her eyes enlarged when she saw him and processed what he was about to do. One stout burst of confidence and he would be falling away from the wall.

  "Kieriell, no!" Her cry echoed up the well and back like a wave of strange music to him.

  He saved his breath, gave her a silent good-bye with his eyes. Then he let his arms straighten and he slid down from the lip. The talons bore trenches into the stone as he slipped further, now vertical with the well wall, and the toes of his boots found small, jagged protrusions to lend him some support.

  He heard Siri shout, "Kieriell!" and he looked up to see that she leaned over the balcony. Her spread hand stretched down toward his, her hair dangling ice-like but soft past her face, washed with golden highlights from the well's glow.

  Her father appeared at her side, looking down with true worry now. He saw all that mattered to him at stake, the gridcode about to plunge into the heat of the core and disintegrate right before his eyes. Rai Jinn, too, came to gaze over the side.

  "Kieriell, do you really want to die this way?" the kai asked calmly. "I only meant to make your stay here more merciful." He sounded caring in this, but he couldn't possibly comprehend the horror behind his idea of mercy.

  Kieriell was straining too much to speak. All at once the rock gave and he slid further, an echoing screeeeeeck! emitting from the stone as it filed the talons down. Siri gave a short, hoarse scream. His foot jittered along the wall in search of another protrusion, and he found a tiny hold, while one leg still dangled.

  "I appologize, Kieriell," the kai admitted. "I should have been willing to discuss your terms. Please. . . come back up." Although he sounded fatherly, there was no sincerity in the eyes.

  Kieriell looked from the father to the daughter. Siri's face swelled from the heat of the well, tears collecting into one big drop near her chin. "Kieriell," she called, "come back up."

  But her father was determined to put in the final words that would compel the Nexian to want to live. "Kieriell, don't be a fool." He leaned as far over the wall as he could and reached down with his cy-netic arm and opened his hand. "Let me help you." As he said this, neural flesh began to creep over the wall around him and work downward.

  Kieriell breathed in and looked back to Siri, hearing her little gasps, her sniffles. Her eyes glowed brilliantly in the light of the well, and he found great comfort in that. All the tension drained out of him as he focused only on her.

  She moved along the wall until she all but bumped her father out of the way an took a place more directly over him. The kai, at an obvious loss, allowed it. "Please," she whispered one more time. The tears that had gathered on the edge of her face broke free and streaked down through the air straight for Kieriell's upper cheek.

  The warm drop made a sharp spack! on his skin and he blinked at the impact, felt it run down from the hollow of his eye. And with that he relaxed the talons and let go.

  He heard Siri scream again. His body hung suspended in the air as he pushed out from the wall. Then gravity claimed him, and he arced over backward before straightening his form and facing straight down into the light far below.

  The heat tore past him, baking his face and shoulders as the tunic began to peel away from the wind speed. His hair trailed behind him like a black flame, strands whipping against his back, stinging. The inhibitor pulsed out a rhythm of pain in his head, and his eyes burned, forcing tears to streak along his temples in the opposite direction of his fall.

  Faster and faster he plummeted, arms pinned at his sides, legs straight, feet pointed. His mind cleared completely, leaving no place for fear, and the light grew brighter until his vision could not withstand it.

  He closed his eyes, but the light was still there. Calling to him, a sea of white, so vast and familiar. His consciousness began to let go, to slip away and spread out, and without a thought he recognized the void.

  28

  Adam stepped into the silence of the throne room and approached the main dais. He started to speak of the slender folio of material tucked under his arm, but then he remained quiet, seeing that his father didn't acknowledge him.

  The emperor was settled back in the chair, his hooded cloak snugged around his shoulders, while his gaze became lost toward the dome. His eyes were the most peaceful Adam had ever seen them, the pupils narrow lines, leaving room for the calming jewel-blue irises to reflect the light.

  Curious, Adam turned and looked up through the dome, searching for what in Nex space held his father's attention and sent a wordless sense of questioning. Asmodéus stirred slightly, his he
ad and shoulders moving as he sighed, eyes still cast toward space.

  Adam ascended the dais and laid the folio across Asmodéus' lap. (You called for me?)

  The emperor nodded.

  (I've completed my report, Lord Father. There it is, including a listing of historical registers in the political agenda and an outline on how we might approach the reforms using this information.)

  Asmodéus' vision finally rolled toward Adam and lifelessly stared at the crown prince, then down at the folio.

  Growing uneasy with this emptiness, Adam tried to push the discussion on the subject that had kept them both busy for the last three cycles. (Have you completed your neural scan of the stored documents?)

  The emperor nodded and offered a wry smile. Then he raised one hand and tapped his temple. (Up here.) He rested his chin on his hand and appeared pleased with himself. (The reforms may not be necessary.)

  "How so?"

  Asmodéus clasped the folio in his hands and began to pull himself up out of the chair and his state of deep speculation. He straightened, his cloak falling into place, and his crown mane smoothing down his back. He descended the dais with Adam following. (I found one cell of information that, you will see, is quite interesting.)

  "All right." Adam listened.

  (It seems that Asmodéus II, obsessed with the center of the grid map as he was, initiated a proposal for the adversarial orders, and they agreed to its conditions.)

  (And those conditions were?) Adam rolled his eyes, still a little disgusted that all of his work should be dismissed. He paused beside his father beneath the dome.

  (You know that the last record of a transcendant child being born on Nex came from the Hellan order just over nine centuries ago?)

  (Yes,) Adam recalled, (a girl child. She was the only heir in line for the office of Astar'Æth before your brother took the title.)

  (Yes,) Asmodéus added, (and she tried to beat an adversarial challenge by vertically teleporting before she was ready. No one knows what happened to her.)

  (That's one example of why we were worried about Kieriell.)

  Asmodéus held up one finger emphatically. (But, the point is: I discovered a document from the time of Asmodéus II, which states that any transcendant child is exempt from adversarial challenge.)

  Adam stepped back, frowning. "Excuse me?"

  (A transcendant is exempt from adversarial challenge,) the emperor repeated, (and he or she is exempt from the laws of will power and survival that make up the Nexian psionic issue. He or she has a right to choose an advocate who will act as a stand-in for adversarial challenges. This was considered necessary since the teleportation ability is such a serious matter even if the child with the talent doesn't prove to be a transcendant.)

  "Huh," Adam mumbled in amazement. (Asmodéus II? Why?)

  (Don't you see, Adam? Remember how Kieriell questioned why Asmodéus II was so interested in the grid's center and the theories surrounding it?)

  Adam nodded. He felt the same pride as he had felt then, having a son so talented, and then Kieriell's absence caught up with him again. His jaw tightened. (So, why did he care so much about the grid?) he asked. (Asmodéus II was no proven transcendant, even though Kieriell thinks he may have been.)

  (No.) Asmodéus maintained his calm, leaving Adam to shrug with an incredulous expression. (But his third child was a half-breed, born of a Valtaerian mother. . . and also a transcendant. A boy. There are hardly any records of him, but obviously he had an effect on our code.)

  Taken aback, Adam stared, enthusiasm building inside him, though logic kept him in check. He tried to stay as calm as his father, wondering if, when he was emperor, he would have the same self control as the elder Nexian. (So, Asmodéus II got the adversaries to agree to this, and you found a cell containing a record of the document?)

  (Yes, and it's still a legal document. Asmodéus II's third child never inherited the mantle; he left Nex and never returned, and after so many millennia with no contact and in which no other transcendants occurred in any Nexian bloodlines, the document was stored and forgotten. It really did have no place in our society at the time because it was so specific.)

  In his mind, Adam pulled more of the possibilities together. (Including Kieriell, that makes two transcendants that have occurred in the line of Asmodéus. Is that to say that the gridcode runs in our line? That we all might have it?)

  Asmodéus shook his head, steadily watching his son's reactions. (No, they were both half-breeds, remember? I also checked the history of the transcendant who emerged from the previous line of Astar'Æth. She was a half-breed, too. After her disappearance—assumed to be her death—her father never bore any more children. He went insane, and when he died without an heir, my brother took his place.) He paced a few steps and turned back, fingering his chin. (There is a constant pattern in this, however, one which you are already a witness to but you do not know it.)

  Impatience growing, Adam moved closer. "Then what is it?" His heart was already stirring with the news of the document and what it meant as a vehicle in recovering his son.

  The emperor looked up at the dome and for a moment seemed lost there again though he was only gathering the words to finish. (The unions, which produced these transcendants, were between Nexians and Valtaerians who were of the same family line.)

  Adam's gaze darted up and hardened, the final piece of the puzzle settling into its rightful spot in his mind. Astonishment brought a quiver to his brow, a glaze to his eyes. He swallowed, issuing a loud gulp before he exhaled and stood frozen. "Jenesaazi."

  (The Mahlharium Dynasty has been Nex's ally almost from the beginning,) Asmodéus concluded.

  "Can this really be so?" Adam breathed. "Does the gridcode really come from Jenesaazi?" It was something he had never considered. To him the appearance of transcendant children in Nexian history was simply an anomaly. He had never looked at their histories in such detail.

  Asmodéus gave a nod, his eyes narrowing wistfully. (There is something in the union between members of that line with Nexian blood that seems to manifest the connection to the grid. I know of no records of full-blooded Valtaerian transcendants, or even children that could simply teleport, but that is not to say that they haven't existed.)

  A chill spread throughout Adam's body, and he crossed his arms over his chest as though that would barricade in some warmth. He looked up to the dome, finding new hope as he said, "We have to transmit that document around Nex. Even though we acted before we knew about it, the others must recognize it and know that we did have support in our decision to keep Kieriell's ability a secret."

  Asmodéus nodded. (Yes, and furthermore, we now have a right to send agents to his aid.) He handed Adam's folio back. They started for the lift together.

  "I guess I can always keep this for reference when I carry the mantle," Adam said under his breath, looking at the folio and then tucking it under his arm.

  (Nothing's to say we're clear yet,) Asmodéus assured him. (Keep that in case we do have to go through with reforms.)

  The lift doors opened and they entered the quiet compartment to stand uncomfortably apart.

  "So where do we begin?" Adam asked, suddenly feeling the exhaustion catch up with him while his mental and emotional states still had much to process.

  (The tabernacle,) Asmodéus replied.

  General Kallian and several other officers all looked up from their positions and stared when the emperor and crown prince entered. It was too clear that they still didn't know how to react to the emperor's behavior. Concealing Kieriell's ability from the adversaries was still considered an act of betrayal to the Nexian code. But who was there to punish when the emperor himself, aided by the crown prince, was the traitor? There was also one once-respected chamberlain, accused of the crime of weakness, whose death had been a result of said court conspiracy. The entire matter confused most of the officers present. They didn't know who to trust.

  They must understand now, Adam half-pleaded to hims
elf. None of them had ever had transcendant children, none of them knew how dire the concern over such a delicate matter could be. If nothing else, the documents left by Asmodéus II demonstrated this.

  The emperor stepped forward and accepted a curt nod from Kallian whose countenance was already one of hostility. The general's green eyes flashed whenever he had to look at his lord, and he did not once look in Adam's direction.

  Adam remained at the back of the room, throwing up a wall of neutrality while he waited for the exchange to finish. He observed Kallian's stern expression alter to one of confusion, then astonishment. The others waited to become witness to the news, and finally the emperor's sending swept around them all.

  (You must know that my son and I acted out of caution when we withheld the knowledge of Prince Kieriell's ability,) Asmodéus admitted. (Now we all see how one of our ancient breed felt the same and probably would have done the same. Although our actions are supported by this document, neither of us nor any of the other lords knew of its existence, and so I leave it up to my empire to judge. Will you excuse your emperor and accept the terms of the document, or will you continue to hold me responsible?)

  There was a pause, and several murmurs of approval arose around the room. Their minds touched each other, shared feelings on the matter. Some frowned, others tilted their heads in speculation. Then the psionic pulse of all their feelings moved through the emperor and the crown prince.

  Adam sighed, his heartbeat quickening.

  The answer, though it was touched in areas with doubt, was an ultimate yes.

  (Now we must prepare this news to transmit to all of Nex,) Asmodéus said in conclusion. (The neural cell, which contains this document, exists in the sixtieth registered log of Asmodéus II, year: 3,191, titled The Transcendant Account. I have already transferred a replica cell of this document to central access.)