Something was building within Kelric, something ten years in coming. He kept hearing Jeremiah's words: They're so peaceful here. Imagine if they let their top dice players loose on all those barbaric Imperialate warmongers.
Watching the woman in the garden, he spoke quietly. "She looks like my ex-wife." It was the first time he had mentioned anything of his life on Coba to any Skolian. It felt as if alarms should blare or bells toll.
"You think so?" Vaz peered at the woman. "Corey wasn't that beautiful." She flushed and quickly added, "I mean no offense to her memory."
"I know," Kelric said. "None taken."
She gave him an odd look. "Why would you call my cousin Corey your ex-wife? You two were married when she died."
Softly he said, "I wasn't talking about Corey."
"Who else could you mean?"
Ten years of caution, ten years of silence: he couldn't break it so easily.
"We should go back inside," he said.
Vaz was watching him intently. "All right."
For now she let it go. But he knew her silence wouldn't last.
VI
The Gold Die
People overflowed the Amphitheater of Memories where the Assembly met. Tiers of seats rose for hundreds of levels; above them, balconies held yet more people. Delegates filled the amphitheater, and images glowed at the VR benches where offworld members attended through the Kyle web. Controlled pandemonium reigned as thousands conferred, bargained, and argued, all the gathered powers of an empire struggling to accommodate the contradictions and conflicts of a government that was both dynastic rule and a democracy.
Kelric sat at the Imperator's bench with his aides, and also with Najo, Axer, and Strava standing on duty. They hadn't stopped scowling since they discovered he had taken his "vacation" with no guards.
A dais was rising in the amphitheater's center. The Councilor of Protocol sat at a console there, preparing to call the vote. Tikal, First Councilor of the Assembly, the elected leader of the Imperialate, stood at a podium, and Dehya was standing closer to Protocol. On principle, Kelric would have preferred Dehya attend through the web; that way, his people could protect her even better than the stratospheric level of security he already wrapped around her. But he knew why she came in person. Although she was one of the savviest people here, her waif-like face and small size made her look fragile. It inspired protective instincts in people and helped counterbalance his presence, which many people found alarmingly militaristic.
The session had started only an hour ago, and already the debate regarding his mother's voting bloc was done. Few speakers had commented. Those who did, including Naaj Majda, orated eloquently in Roca's favor. The lack of counterarguments didn't fool Kelric. No one wanted to speak openly against the Ruby Dynasty. Unfortunately, their reluctance only went so far; it wouldn't stop most of them from voting against her even in an open ballot. He could see Roca on his screens. She sat across the amphitheater, relaxed at her console with a composure that he doubted came easy today.
The number of votes held by a delegate depended on the size and status of the populations that elected them, or in the case of hereditary seats, on the power of the family. The Ruby Pharaoh and First Councilor held the largest blocs. The next largest went to Kelric, then the Councilors of the Inner Circle: Stars, Intelligence, Foreign Affairs, Finance, Industry, Judiciary, Life, Planetary Development, Domestic Affairs, Nature, and Protocol.
Protocol spoke into her comm. "Calling the vote."
The words flashed on Kelric's screen. They also came over the audio system, but they were almost lost with all the noise. Protocol waited while people quieted. Then she said, "The measure is this: The voting bloc of the Web Key should cease to exist until another Web Key ascends to the Triad. A vote of Yea supports abolishing the bloc; a vote of Nay opposes the measure."
She called the roll then, starting with the lowest-ranked delegates, those with the fewest votes. Their names appeared on Kelric's screen, their Yea or Nay, and the number of votes they carried. The overall tally showed on a large holoscreen above the dais.
Bolt, Kelric thought. Project the outcome based on the current tally and your expectations for delegates who haven't yet voted.
Your mother will lose, Bolt answered.
Damn. At the moment, the tally favored Roca. Most noble Houses had already cast their ballots, though, and they supported her. Ragnar's name came up—and he voted against her. Kelric gritted his teeth as her edge shrank. The vote continued inexorably, and when it turned against her, murmurs rolled through the hall. Kelric heard a snap, and a sharp pain stabbed his palm. Startled, he looked down. He had gripped the console so hard, a switch had broken and jabbed his hand.
"Cardin Taymor," Protocol called.
Kelric glanced up, at a loss to recognize the name.
She's new, Bolt thought. From Metropoli. Given her record in their Assembly, she will undoubtedly go against Councilor Roca. He accessed Kelric's optic nerve and produced an image of Taymor. Kelric blinked; she was the woman who had done a double take when he walked into the Grand Opera Hall last night.
His screen flashed with Taymor's vote: Nay.
Hah! Kelric grinned. You calculated wrong.
Perhaps I had too little data. Bolt paused. Or maybe your protocol analysts know what they are doing better than you think. She did seem taken with you.
Dryly Kelric thought, Thanks for your confidence in my intellect.
Voices rumbled in the amphitheater; apparently Bolt wasn't the only one who had misjudged Taymor's intent. Coming from the most heavily populated world in the Imperialate, she wielded an impressive bloc. The tally swung back in favorof Roca.
Update, Bolt thought. I now project you will win.
Kelric exhaled. The broken switch fell out of his hand and clattered onto the console.
As the vote continued, the tally fluctuated, but remained in Roca's favor. Two of Kelric's brothers had attended: Eldrin, his oldest sibling and the Ruby Consort; and Denric, who had earned a doctorate in literature and now taught children on the world Sandstorm. Both voted with Roca, and she cast proxies for Kelric's other siblings, also in her favor.
Then Protocol said, "Vazar Majda."
Across the amphitheater, the Majda queens were sitting at their consoles, tall and aristocratic. Just their women held Assembly seats; even in this modern age, they followed ancient customs that allowed only their women to inherit power.
When Earth's people had finally discovered the Imperialate, they had scandalized the noble matriarchs of Skolia. Apparently on Earth, men had historically held more power than women. The matriarchs claimed this was why it took Earth's people so long to reach the stars. They asserted that if women had been in charge, Earth would have achieved that pinnacle of development thousands of years earlier. Their arguments conveniently ignored the fact that their ancestors had developed star travel because they had starships to study.
Earth's annoyed males had responded by pointing out that Earth had achieved a far greater degree of peace than the Imperialate, which surely had to do with the fact that bellicose, aggressive women had been in charge of the Imperialate rather than peaceful men. Naaj Majda hadn't understood why Kelric found this so funny. She even acknowledged the Earth men had a point. Kelric told her to go read Earth's military history.
By the time Earth and Skolia discovered each other, both had evolved toward equality, though men still tended to hold more power on Earth and women more among the Skolians. The Traders had always been egalitarian; they enslaved everyone equally, male and female alike.
The way the Majda queens secluded their princes reminded Kelric of a Calanya. He had lived in over half of Coba's cities, yet he knew almost nothing about them, for he had spent his entire time in seclusion. He had never done anything as simple as buy a sausage at market. They had imprisoned him in luxury as if he were a ruby die locked in a treasure box, withholding something far more precious than all the wealth they lavished on him—his
freedom.
Protocol's words came over the audio system. "Vazar Majda, does your console have a problem?"
With a start, Kelric realized Vazar hadn't voted.
Her answer came over the audio. "No problem."
"Please place your vote," Protocol said.
Why isn't she responding? Kelric asked Bolt. He could see her arguing with Naaj.
I don't know, Bolt thought. However, my projection of your win assumes the Majdas will support you.
He didn't believe Vazar would go against them. But she had worried him last night.
"Vazar Majda, you must respond," Protocol said.
The buzz of conversation in the amphitheater died away. Such a wait was unprecedented. Then Kelric's console flashed—like a punch to the gut.
Yea.
Gasps came from all over as the tally swung solidly against Roca. Naaj's face was thunderous. Protocol called her next, and her adamant Nay negated Vazar's effect. Then the Inner Circle voted—and doubled the tally against Roca. Roca went next and took a huge bite out of their gains.
"Kelric Valdoria," Protocol said.
He stabbed in his answer, and it flared on his screen. Nay. The tally careened toward a balance, almost evening the sides.
Two voters remained: the Ruby Pharaoh and First Councilor. Their blocs were almost identical, but Dehya had a few more votes—because she had staged the coup that deposed Tikal. Her decision to rule jointly with him had been contingent on those extra votes, and with them the ability to break a deadlock.
"First Councilor Tikal," Protocol said.
His answer appeared: Yea. The tally shifted firmly to his side, and the amphitheater went silent as if the Assembly were holding its collective breath.
"Dyhianna Selei," Protocol said.
Dehya's vote flashed: Nay.
The tally careened back toward Roca's side. When it finished, the result glowed in large red letters above the amphitheater.
By a mere six votes, Roca had lost.
****
Kelric brooded in the Corner Room, a hexagonal alcove removed from the amphitheater. Someone had shoved a divan into a corner, so he sat on it with his back against the wall and his legs outstretched. A line of blue and white glyphs bordered the wall at shoulder height, more artwork than words.
Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes. He was clenching his Quis pouch, and dice poked his hand through the cloth. He told himself that today's vote didn't matter. If anything, it strengthened his position as Imperator. But he feared it presaged an even more intransigent Assembly and a future of hostilities with the Traders, the Allieds, even his own people.
A creak broke the silence. As Kelric opened his eyes, the antique door across the room swung inward on old-style hinges designed for aesthetics rather than practicality. A slender man with curly blond hair stood looking at him. Beyond him, Kelric's bodyguards were talking to another bodyguard in black leathers. Kelric's visitor came in and closed the door.
"My greetings, Deni," Kelric said.
"It's good to see you," his brother said.
Kelric felt the same way. He saw Denric only a few times a year. When had that streak of grey appeared in his brother's hair? Denric had always seemed young, though he was a decade older than Kelric. Perhaps it was his boyish face or small size compared to his towering brothers. Or maybe it was his idealism, his belief he could bring about a more peaceful universe by schooling young people. Kelric suspected the universe would resist tranquility regardless of how well its inhabitants educated themselves, but that had never decreased his admiration for his brother. Denric had taken a teaching post that paid almost nothing in an impoverished community and dedicated his life and personal resources to its youth.
His brother settled into an upholstered chair and swung his feet up on the footstool. "Well, that wascertainly a rout."
"We only lost by six votes," Kelric said. "That hardly qualifies as a rout." Not that it made him feel any better.
Denric considered him for long enough to make Kelric uncomfortable. Then Denric said, "I suppose for you, it has advantages."
"You think I wanted that to happen?"
"It supports you." Denric's voice was atypically cool. "It will help you continue to build up the military beyond our needs and increase ISC control over our people."
Kelric couldn't believe he was hearing this from his own brother. "You ought to know me better than that."
"I thought I did. But sometimes it seems like I hardly know you at all. You've become so focused on ISC, people are comparing you to Kurj."
Kelric stared at him. People had called Kurj a dictator. Yes, Kelric physically resembled him. Even their names were similar. But he had little else in common with his half-brother.
"If I don't build up ISC," Kelric said, "the Traders will conquer us. Then we'll all be slaves."
Denric gave him an incredulous look. "So you need military threats against our own people?"
"Of course not."
"Which is why all our own worlds have such a strong ISC presence."
"It's to protect them." Kelric eased down his mental shields. We have to be ready. If the Traders attacked today, we would lose.
Denric's cultured thoughts came into his mind. I had heard nothing of our situation being that bad.
It is hardly something I want to broadcast.
Then why don't they attack us?
They probably don't know they can win. After a moment, Kelric added, Or maybe this emperor of theirs genuinely desires peace.
Maybe. Denric didn't hide his doubt.
Kelric's head throbbed from the contact. Releasing the link, he shielded his mind and exhaled as the ache in his temples receded. He didn't know how psions had survived without the ability to raise shields. The onslaught of emotions could drive a person insane.
The geneticist Rhon had developed the shielding techniques centuries ago. He also developed genetic modifications that would reroute the pain signals an empath received to areas of the brain that didn't process empathic input. He sought to ease their intense sensitivity to such signals.
That well-meant plan became one of the worst failures in history.
Rhon had inadvertently created the Aristos, a race of anti-empaths. When an Aristo detected pain from a psion, it activated pleasure centers of the Aristo's brain, producing ecstasy. Aristos were sadists. They craved psions with single-minded obsession and enslaved them with no remorse.
Kelric thought of his only face-to-face meeting with the Trader Emperor, Jaibriol III. He had felt certain Jaibriol was an empath, though Aristos supposedly lacked the "contaminating" genes that created a psion. The youth protected his mind well; only a Ruby psion would have guessed. But if his people ever suspected, his life would become hell. Maybe this emperor had reasons no one expected for wanting connections with Skolia.
The door opened again, framing Dehya in its archway. Yet more black-clad bodyguards had gathered outside, dwarfing her delicate form. They were the human components in the myriad of defenses that protected the dynasty, especially the Dyad.
"Well." Denric pulled himself out of his chair. "I'll leave you two to talk."
A smile touched Dehya's face. "My greetings, Deni."
He swept her a gallant bow. Court etiquette didn't require it with his own family, but he always treated Dehya that way. Straightening up, he winked at her. "Don't intimidate my little brother."
Her laugh was musical. "I'll try not to terrorize him."
After Denric left, closing the door, Kelric smiled at his aunt. "I'm quaking in my boots."
Dehya dropped into the chair, taking up much less of it than Denric had done. "Roca isn't happy."
That had to be an understatement of magnificent proportions. "She's still one of the most influential voices in the Assembly."
Dehya regarded him wearily. "It isn't only the vote. She believes Vazar betrayed us. She used words that—well, let's just say it was language my sister the diplomat rarely employs."
<
br /> "I don't blame her." Yet for all his anger, Kelric knew Vazar too well to call her decision a betrayal. "Vaz follows her conscience, not anyone's political agenda."
The door slammed open and Roca stalked into the room. "She dishonored him." She closed the door with a thud. "She inherited Althor's votes and now she disrespects his memory."
"I doubt she thinks so," Dehya said.
"Why aren't you angry?" Roca demanded.
Dehya grimaced. "I'm worn out with being angry. It seems to be a constant state where the Assembly is concerned."
Roca scowled at Kelric.
"What?" Kelric asked.
"First Denric, then Dehya, now me. What is this, we must come to petition the mighty Imperator?"
"Why are you angry at me?" he asked.
"You spoke to Vaz last night."
"I speak to Vaz all the time."
"Did you encourage her to change the vote?"
"You think I plotted this with her?"
"Did you?"
"No." He barely controlled his surge of anger. "I can't believe you would even ask."
"Her vote benefits you."
"For flaming sakes," Kelric said. "If I had wanted to vote for the damn ballot, I would have."
"Having Vaz do it makes her the traitor," Roca said. Her mental tap came at his mind. Kelric?
He crossed his arms and strengthened his mental shields.
Kelric, come on. Her thought barely leaked through.
She wanted to talk? Fine. He lowered his barriers and let his anger blast out. You have no business accusing me.
Roca took a startled step back and her face paled. But her thought didn't waver. I know.
So why the bloody hell say it?
It was Dehya who answered. We think someone has compromised security.
You're testing it?
Roca winced at the force of his thought. Yes, she thought. Testing to see if rumors spread of strife within the Ruby Dynasty.
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