She glanced up, softening despite her anger at him. “Do you like it here on the Orbiter?”
“Yes. I do.” His inner lids raised, revealing his eyes. “I’ve always liked it. I don’t feel so heavy.”
She knew he meant more than gravity. “You work too hard.”
His lips quirked up. “You always tell me that. And how I should settle down with a nice girl.”
“Well, you should.”
His eyes glinted. “I don’t like nice girls.”
“Kurj!”
He laughed. “Sorry.” In a more serious voice, he said, “I am just so very, very glad to see you alive and well.”
In truth, she felt the same way about being alive. “We feared Avaril’s army would kill us.”
“They might have if you hadn’t sent out those robot birds. Otherwise, we might not have made it in time. We were having a hard time fixing your location on the planet.”
“I’m glad it worked.”
“Why were those people attacking the castle?”
“They wanted Eldri.”
At the mention of his stepfather’s name, his expression hardened. The baby stirred in Roca’s arms, crying in his sleep.
“Look.” Kurj’s face relaxed. “He feels our tension.”
“It is because he is a psion.” Roca regarded Kurj steadily. “Possibly a Ruby psion.”
His inner lids came down. “Impossible.”
“No.” She willed him to see the truth. “I know you sense the baby’s mind.” The mental bond he had formed with Eldrin at the birth was undeniable. Kurj treated him with a gentleness Roca had never seen him show anyone else. It gave her hope for both of her sons.
“How could it be?” Kurj said. “It means his father carries the genes of a psion.”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “Yes.”
“That barbarian can’t have them.”
“Why not? What does his culture have to do with his DNA?”
His jaw stiffened. “It’s too incongruous.”
“Nevertheless, it is true.”
He looked away, out the window.
The walk through Valley soothed Roca’s agitation. The beauty of the secluded vale, with its pastoral hills and glens, comforted her. Sky arched far above, a reassuring blue, the Sun Lamp halfway from its zenith to the horizon. Kurj walked at her side, silent, as the two of them had often been with each other these past few days.
They went to the house where Roca lived when she visited the Orbiter. Entering the front room, she saw a massive gold man standing at a table by the far wall, glancing through a holobook she had left open there a year ago, the last time she had been here. She had an eerie moment of dislocation, entering the room with Kurj only to find him already here.
Then her mind readjusted and her mood warmed. “My greetings, Father.”
Jarac turned with a start. “Roca!” He strode forward—and stopped halfway across the room, staring at the bundle in her arms.
Eldrin stirred and opened his eyes, trying to look around.
Roca’s father blinked, his unshielded eyes like liquid gold with black pupils in the center. “Is that the baby?”
“Your grandson.” Roca’s pulse leapt. Would Jarac accept him?
Her father came the rest of the way over to them and peered at Eldrin. “He certainly is small.”
Roca smiled. “That he is.” Especially compared to Jarac.
Her father poked a finger into Eldrin’s fist. The baby looked up, his big blue eyes scanning the gold face above him. Jarac spoke in a kind voice. “What do you see, little man?” His words took on a singsong quality. “Do you know your grandhoshpa? Well, you are a fine boy, eh?” He waggled his finger in Eldrin’s tiny grip.
Kurj made an exasperated noise. “I have never understood why otherwise rational adults speak gibberish to babies.”
Roca slanted a look at him. “I talked that way to you when you were a baby.”
Kurj cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening under their metallic cast. “Look at that.” Jarac beamed at his infant grandson. “He turns his head to watch my face when I move.”
Relief flowed through Roca. Her father wasn’t rejecting Eldrin. It had probably helped that she sent messages ahead, letting her parents know she was alive—and a mother again. She could tell how much her father wanted to press her for news about what had happened. That he approached the situation with such tenderness made her want to hug him.
“Well, so.” Jarac laughed as Eldrin gurgled at him.
Roca extended her child to her father. “Would you like to hold him?”
Jarac hesitated. “He’s so small. I might break him.”
Roca couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve seen holos of you holding me when I was this size. You never broke me.”
With great care, he took Eldrin into his arms. “Well, and look at you, eh?”
She glanced around the room. “Where is Mother?”
“In the web.” Jarac smiled at Eldrin, the lines crinkling around his eyes, more wrinkles than Roca remembered. With a start, she realized how much gray threaded the bronze mane of hair that swept to his shoulders. It was the most noticeable difference between him and Kurj; his grandson kept his hair clipped close to his head in metallic curls with no trace of gray. She would never understand how her older son and her father could otherwise look so alike and yet be so different. As a small child, Kurj had been similar to Jarac in temperament, but the years had hardened her son in a way that had never happened to her father.
Jarac tickled Eldrin’s nose with his huge finger. To Roca, he said, “Your mother doesn’t know yet that you’ve arrived.”
“Actually, she does,” a regal voice said behind them.
Roca almost jumped. Turning, she saw her mother, Lahaylia Selei, in the archway of the room. Gray streaked the black hair that fell to below the pharaoh’s hips, its length a trademark of Ruby Dynasty women. She resembled a Majda queen, with her high cheekbones, slanted eyes, and elegant nose, but her eyes were vivid green instead of black. She came forward, willowy yet strong, with an imperial carriage.
“Mother.” Roca went to her, wanting to throw her arms around this woman who had held her as a child. The Ruby Pharaoh’s ingrained formality discouraged shows of emotion, but for all her mother’s reserve, Roca felt her love, and her gratitude that her daughter had come home. It flowed over Roca.
“I am glad to see you, Daughter,” her mother said.
“And I you,” Roca answered.
Lahaylia glanced at the baby that Jarac held. “You have brought us a grandchild.”
Roca tensed. Would her mother also accept Eldrin?
Lahaylia went to her husband, and Jarac beamed, showing her Eldrin. “Look, Lahya. He is beautiful.”
The Ruby Pharaoh gazed at her grandson. “So.”
“I named him Eldrin Jarac Valdoria,” Roca said. Then she added the last name, her voice firm. “Skolia.”
Jarac froze, his smile vanishing. Kurj stiffened at her side, even already knowing what Roca believed. Lahaylia didn’t move.
Then, slowly, the Ruby Pharaoh turned to her. She spoke in a deceptively quiet voice. “What did you say?”
“Prince Eldrin Jarac Valdoria Skolia.” Roca used the title deliberately.
Anger flashed in her mother’s eyes. “The Skolia name may be taken only by a Ruby psion. For anyone else to dare claim it is a grave insult to our family.”
“He is my husband’s son. That makes him a member of the Ruby Dynasty.” Roca’s stiffness eased. “Mother, I’m not sure if Eldri is a Ruby psion. The geneticists will have to examine his DNA. But I think he is.” Her hope surged despite her attempts to remain cool. “I really think he is.”
“So it is true.” Lahaylia’s voice cooled. “You married the father.” She didn’t seem to have heard anything beyond Roca’s first sentence. “How could you commit such an abomination?”
This wasn’t going the way Roca had hoped. “I love him.”
Her m
other made an incredulous noise. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Roca scowled at her. “He is a good man.”
“He is unworthy of you.”
“His people might argue I am unworthy of him.”
Lahaylia arched a perfect eyebrow. “I hardly think so.”
Roca was aware of Kurj listening with the same concentration he used to size up combat situations. Although she spoke to Lahaylia, her words were as much for him. “It doesn’t matter to you that this man may be a Ruby psion?”
“A far-fetched proposition,” the Ruby Pharaoh said.
“But true.”
“Perhaps.”
Roca refused to back down. “You will see.”
“It makes no difference, Daughter.”
“No difference? He would be priceless.”
“Certainly he would. We could make much use of him.” Lahaylia crossed her arms. “He would still be unworthy to become your husband.”
“He isn’t a thing to ‘make use of,’” Roca said angrily.
Jarac spoke. “Lahya, if she loves this fellow, we should be happy for them.”
Roca could have hugged him. Her mother had other ideas. She frowned at her husband. “Pah.” She made that one word an imperial rebuke that would have struck fear into the most stalwart soul.
Unlike the rest of the universe, however, Jarac didn’t blanch under the force of her disapproval. Instead he smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “Loving one’s spouse is a good thing, Wife.”
Although she gave him her most regal, aloof stare, gentleness underlay her gaze. But when she turned to Roca, her frown returned. “Have you informed your betrothed about this marriage of yours? Perhaps you have forgotten him—Prince Dayj Majda, nephew of the Majda Matriarch?”
“Or course I haven’t forgotten.” Roca wished she could, but that was another matter. “Reparations have been made.”
Roca had spent the past months going over files in her node, studying precedents. While en route here, she had sent a careful message to the House of Majda. She phrased the news of her marriage in a manner that court protocol specified as an apology in situations that precluded an open statement of regret. Her betrothal to Dayj had never taken place, so technically she owed Majda no explanation. But implicit promises had been made. Majda had been grooming its prince to become a Ruby consort. In reparation, Roca had deeded the Matriarch a lucrative shipping company, one Vaj Majda had long coveted. To Dayj, Roca sent a jeweled box with two art figurines considered priceless. It wouldn’t diminish what she had done, but it conveyed a message that he and his House would recognize, an apology of the highest order.
Lahaylia, however, looked unimpressed. “No reparations are going to appease Vaj Majda.” She crossed her arms. “And I am sure the prince who had expected to carry your name and sire your children will be enthralled to know you have given birth to another man’s child.”
Eldrin’s face scrunched up and he began to cry.
“Lahya, stop.” Jarac gently handed Eldrin to his mother. As Roca soothed the crying infant, Jarac drew his wife away, to a window across the room. Light from the Sun Lamp slanted through the window, illuminating the two potentates as if they were in a gilded portrait. Roca wondered how they could look so beautiful and be so infuriating, though this time it was only her mother.
With a hearty cry, Eldrin turned toward Roca’s breast. She cuddled him close. “Are you hungry, sweetings?”
Kurj spoke hurriedly, his fierce demeanor replaced by alarm. “If you need me, I will be in the other room.”
Roca nodded, her attention focused on Eldrin. As Kurj made a quick retreat, she crossed the room, murmuring to the baby. She left her parents in the other room, deep in discussion, and secluded herself in an alcove. She felt Eldrin’s relief at being comforted. Some people believed a baby this young had no real personality, but she could already sense his moods and needs.
She nursed him, knowing this moment of peace wouldn’t last. Had her mother accepted the marriage, or even remained neutral, it might have mitigated Kurj’s hostility toward his stepfather. She had thought if Lahaylia knew Eldri was a strong psion, perhaps even a Ruby, she would be more open to him, but it seemed a futile hope now. Without the Ruby Pharaoh’s blessing, the marriage had no future.
No matter. She had no intention of divorcing Eldri. Even if it turned out she couldn’t see him again, she could protect him with her title. Otherwise, she feared ISC would demand control of his life, taking his freedom, dignity, and self-determination. An unknown native of a primitive world had few defenses against an interstellar empire, but they would think long and hard before they dared touch the consort of an heir to the Ruby Throne.
Whether her family liked it or not, Eldrinson Althor Valdoria was a member of the Ruby Dynasty.
20
Aftermath
Kurj sat sprawled at his desk, intent on the holos rotating above its glossy surface: graphs, plans, reports, details of the planned invasion. Only five days had passed since he had found Roca, but in that time his team had done a great deal of work. He had spent hours today scrutinizing their reports. His EI strategists continually communicated with those of other officers, just as he communicated with the officers themselves. He had sent so many messages through the Kyle web today, his mind ached.
They had so far spent over eight months planning the invasion. Had they intended a fast strike, they could have gone in long ago. But they had to prepare for the possibility of a protracted, debilitating war. This would be no quickly undertaken and quickly won conflict; they could be embarking on a course that would lead to years of warfare across a region of space that encompassed hundreds, even thousands, of human settlements.
Finally he closed his files and EI shells. As he leaned his head against the back of his smart-chair, it shifted to make him more comfortable. For a short time he simply sat with his eyes closed, recharging his systems.
When he felt fully powered again, he went back to work. The files he brought up now had no connection to the invasion. The helices and diagrams showed the mutated DNA that produced a Ruby psion—him, to be exact. It wasn’t just one gene, but many, corresponding to a wide range of traits, most associated with empathy and telepathy.
“Node A attend,” he said.
“Attending.” The deep voice belonged to the EI that ran the computers in his huge office. Dehya, his aunt, had designed it for him, at his request. He had set his spy programs against it himself, to check its security. It was the only system he knew of that his spies had never cracked.
“Find me the medical records on Eldrin Jarac Valdoria,” Kurj said. He refused to give the Skolia name to his half brother.
And yet, as much as he sought to distance himself from the child, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. In that incredible moment when he had held the newborn, his universe had flipped upside down. Was it a form of insanity that made him shaky inside when he saw that baby? No matter how much he tried to deny the emotions, they refused to go away.
The intensity of his response unnerved him. He had always kept an iron control on his emotions, lest they throw him about like driftwood on a storm-lashed ocean. His passions were too strong to let free. Yet, somehow, Eldrin reached that inner core. For some inexplicable reason, Kurj wanted to see the boy, hold him, say things just as ridiculous as those nonsense words his grandfather used. It was absurd and inappropriate, but nevertheless, he couldn’t stop feeling that way.
“Medical records located,” the EI said.
“Copy them into my memory stacks,” Kurj said.
“The records are confidential.”
Kurj waved his hand. “Never mind that.”
“I haven’t permission to copy them.”
“I’m giving you permission.”
“Only Roca Skolia or her doctor can give permission.”
“So change the access protocols.”
“That isn’t allowed.”
Kurj frowned. “
I’m allowing it.”
“You should not have the authority to do such.”
“Node A, do what I tell you.” Unfortunately, Dehya also tended to program some annoying traits into EIs, such as this resistance to overriding other people’s security protocols. Every time he fixed this one, it tried to evolve back to its original parameters. He would have to run a personality check on it again.
“Medical records copied,” A said.
“Good.” Kurj leaned back in his chair and it shifted to accommodate his weight. “Bring up the analysis of my half brother’s DNA.”
The holos above his desk disappeared, replaced by new ones, similar but not identical to Kurj’s DNA.
Kurj studied the diagrams. “So is the baby a Ruby psion?”
“The analysis is incomplete,” A said. “But yes, it looks like he has the full complement of Rhon genes.”
Kurj blew out a gust of air. He genuinely hadn’t believed his brother could be a Ruby. No wonder his mother had acted rashly toward the Skyfall man. His pheromones would have muddled her judgment. Kurj didn’t believe she loved him. She couldn’t. It was impossible. The scum wasn’t good enough for her. Of course, no one was good enough for her, but this barbarian was about as far from suitable as possible. At least Dayj Majda had impeccable heredity. The fact that Dayj never let anyone forget that didn’t make him any easier to tolerate, but as long as he stayed in seclusion, it didn’t matter.
Kurj frowned at the holos. “Is it possible the father of this child is not a Ruby Dynasty psion?”
“Yes,” A said. “For him to be a Ruby psion, he must carry two of every Ruby gene. If he has only one of any of them, he won’t manifest the full traits, but he can still pass the genes to his son.”
“That isn’t what I meant.” Kurj knew perfectly well a child could be a Ruby psion even if his father wasn’t; he was living proof of that. “I meant, is it possible he isn’t part of the Ruby Dynasty. Is his marriage to my mother legal?”
“No written contract exists.”
That sounded promising. “Is an oral agreement enough to make it legal?”
“Yes, if the bride, groom, and witnesses testify and have their statements verified by physiological monitoring.”