He looked away, disheartened. Despite his gratitude, he felt uncomfortable about this “kindness” from the Allied developers. It demoralized him to be indebted to them.
Figures moved in his side vision. Then Garlin came out of the shadows with three strangers. Eldri knew immediately they were more of these offworlders who had overrun everything lately. They had dark hair and eyes. That unusual coloring, which had once enthralled him, no longer held any mystique. He had no wish to meet more visitors, not now, not ever.
Unfortunately, they didn’t go away. Instead, they came toward him. The strangers, two men and a woman, stayed back a few steps while Garlin continued to the table. Eldri glowered at his cousin.
Garlin frowned at him. “This is hardly a courteous greeting to our guests.”
“I tire of greeting guests,” Eldri grumbled. “We have too many of them.”
Garlin motioned at the crews outside. “You should give them thanks. Not surly silence.”
“You know why they help us.” Eldri lifted his head off his hand. “They want to fix Windward so that when they bring their ‘tours,’ we will look pretty and quaint.”
“Yes, well, perhaps you should talk to these new visitors.” Garlin indicated the three strangers. “They are Skolian. Not Allied. You might find what they say interesting.”
Eldri swung his leg down from the table and sat up straight. “Is it about Roca?”
“No. It is worth hearing, however.”
Eldri sighed. But he motioned the strangers forward and waved toward several chairs. They sat along the table on his left, and Garlin settled in on his right. Eldri glanced at his cousin. “Do they speak English?”
“I do, Your Majesty,” the woman said.
He turned with a start. This penchant offworlders had for calling him “Your Majesty” bewildered him. He supposed it made sense here at Windward, which stood so majestically in the mountains, but then, they should address everyone here that way.
“I welcome you.” Eldri knew his voice held no welcome. “I am afraid my hospitality is clumsy of late. It seems some of your people decided to destroy my home.”
The woman shifted in her seat and one of the men reddened. Garlin spoke in Trillian, with exasperation. “Eldri, behave. Listen to what they have to say.”
Eldri inclined his head to the woman. “Tell me what you have to say.”
Her relief came to him. “My name is Tyra Meson. I represent the Skolian Assembly, the government of your wife’s people.”
Eldri’s pulse leapt. “You have news of my wife?”
“I’m sorry, but no.”
“Oh.” He sat back in his chair. “Why do you come?”
“King Eldrinson,” she began, using the nonsense title the Allieds had given him. “It appears we have a dispute about who this world belongs to.”
He gave her a dour look. “I was not aware it belonged to anyone.”
“Well, yes, of course.” Tyra rested her arms on the table, trying to look relaxed, though Eldri knew perfectly well she was afraid of him. An image came to him from her mind; she feared he might fall on the floor in a convulsion and foam at the mouth. It so irritated him, he was half tempted to do it just to make her go away. But then he would have to listen to a lecture from Garlin, who claimed he should be interested in what these people had to say.
Eldri made an effort. “What does this dispute involve?”
Her tone turned official. “The Allied Worlds of Earth claim Skyfall as their world, because they discovered it first. We challenge that claim. Your settlements here descend from a colony established thousands of years ago by the Ruby Empire.”
Eldri sighed. “And what are ‘years’?” When Tyra started to explain, he held up his hand. “Yes, I know they are a period of time. We do not use them here.”
She cleared her throat. “I appreciate that it is difficult to understand.”
“Very,” Eldrin said sourly. “Terribly difficult. Every time the planet goes around the suns, it is a year. But this means little, Tyra Meson. It is an arbitrary period of time unconnected to how my people think of things.”
“Uh, well, yes.” She pushed back a lock of her dark spiky hair, which had fallen into her eyes. “The crux of the matter is this: we may be able to stop the developers from putting a resort here.”
That caught Eldri’s attention. He sat forward. “It is not so easy. We have a debt to them. They are rebuilding Windward.”
“We will reimburse them.”
“What is ‘reimburse’?”
Garlin answered. “The Skolians will give an amount of wealth to the Allieds equal to or more than what it takes to rebuild Windward.”
Glancing at Garlin, Eldri spoke in Trillian. “They claim they can do this?”
“They say they have already begun negotiations.”
Eldri considered him. Then he turned to Tyra Meson and spoke in English. “What do you want from us in return?”
“Your agreement.”
“To what?”
“To your world joining the Skolian Imperialate.”
“And then?”
“Skyfall—that is, Lyshriol—” Her attempt at Trillian was barely recognizable. “Your world will have a status known as Protected. It means no one can come here without permission from our Assembly.”
Eldri stared at her, certain he had misheard. “You mean, you would leave us alone?” It seemed too good to be true.
“Essentially.” She watched him closely. “The starport will be here, with a schedule of ships like now. But no resorts.”
It was a fair offer. More than fair, in fact. It was incredible. “Why would you do this for us?”
She spoke quietly. “It is not I who does it, Your Majesty. The impetus has come from the Foreign Affairs Councilor.”
Bittersweet emotions swelled in Eldri, a wrenching mix of love and loneliness that threatened to overwhelm him. He fought it down, not because he regretted his love for Roca or his pain that she had gone, but because he refused to show any vulnerability in front of these strangers.
He found no deception in Tyra Meson’s mind. So he said, “Very well. I agree Lyshriol will become part of your Imperialate.” Of course he had no authority to make decisions about an entire planet. But if that pretense would rid them of the developers, he would make it. “Can you actually take Lyshriol from the Allieds? Just because you tell them to leave, that doesn’t mean they will.”
She inclined her head in agreement. “It will take negotiations. But we believe they will agree. It isn’t worth it to their government to alienate ours over a matter like this.”
“Then do try.”
“We will, Your Majesty.” She seemed subdued. He had the impression these people didn’t usually ask if a settlement wanted to join the Imperialate. Their warriors just came in and occupied the place, much as Avaril had tried to take Windward. The need for him to give his agreement came from some battle among the Skolians, something about whether or not he was capable of making decisions.
Eldri spoke with care, uncertain what to think of all this. “This agreement you and I are making—is it binding on all your people? Will everyone on your Assembly accept it?”
Surprise flickered in her mind. She hadn’t expected him to know he should ask such a question. “Yes, they must accept it. We voted.”
“On what?”
She hesitated. “If you were able to comprehend and respond to the invitation, we would carry out the bargain.”
Dryly he said, “Well, I have comprehended and responded.”
“Ah—yes. Exactly.” She seemed at a loss. Even odder, the two men were studying the holos above their palmtops, as if what they saw there linked to this discussion.
Eldri motioned at them. “What are they doing?”
One of the men looked up. “We are recording this conference, Your Majesty.”
Male Memories? How truly odd. “You speak English, too.”
“We were chosen for our ability to communi
cate in a language you understand.” The man smiled. “I am Cary Undell.”
Eldri inclined his head in greeting. He liked having names for people. But as reasonable as they sounded, he felt uneasy. These people made him feel somehow lacking.
The other man spoke. “Your Majesty, I am ****.” His name was sounds rather than words.
Eldri squinted at him. “What did you say?”
He and the woman looked at each other. Then he repeated, “I am ****.”
“I cannot understand you,” Eldri said.
The man spoke slowly, as if Eldri were a child. “That was my name. I am a doctor. A person who heals other people. Do you know what this means?”
“Yes, of course.” Eldri didn’t like the way this fellow addressed him. He thought of the destruction wrought by the minions of the Skolian warlord, who was apparently Roca’s human son. “What has injured my people is not easily healed.” He indicated the crews working outside. “They can make the walls whole but the emotional scars are far deeper.”
“Perhaps you don’t understand,” the doctor began.
Cary Undell spoke up. “I think he understands exactly what you mean.” When the doctor frowned at him, Cary ignored him and spoke to Eldri. “May I ask a question about your health?”
Eldri cocked an eyebrow. “And if I say no? Will I fail this test you are all giving me?”
Tyra stiffened, the doctor scowled, and Cary grinned.
“What makes you think we are testing you?” Tyra asked.
Eldri waved his hand at her. “Just ask your questions.”
Cary began. “I was wondering if—”
“All right,” the doctor interrupted, his gaze hard on Eldri. “Please tell us, Your Majesty, exactly what you know about your generalized tonic-clonic seizures. Do you have thoracic contractions? Instances of status epilepticus?”
Eldri considered him. “Why do you want me to fail this test?”
Cary laughed, then shut his mouth abruptly when the woman frowned at him. The doctor’s expression hardened.
Tyra spoke carefully to Eldri. “Please accept my apologies if we have given offense.”
“You do not give offense,” Eldri said. “But you baffle me.”
The doctor leaned forward. “What confuses you?”
“I didn’t say I was confused.”
Cary’s lips quirked up. Tyra shook her head slightly at him, then turned back to Eldri. “What baffles you?”
“Why do you want to talk about my seizures?” Eldri was fairly certain “seizure” was the right word, because Roca had used it when she talked about his attacks, and she had also used words similar to what the doctor had just said.
Cary leaned forward. “Then you are aware that what happens to you are seizures? Not possession by demons?”
Eldri could tell he was in precarious territory now, though this enemy was more difficult to understand than Lord Avaril. “I know I have epilepsy.” Although he found the word difficult to pronounce, Roca had said it enough that he thought he had it right. “My wife claims you Skolians can treat it. Is this true?”
Tyra answered quietly. “We think so. We need to do more tests before we can give you specific answers.”
“When the doctors examined you after the battle here,” Cary said, “they found traces of sodium bromide in your body. Do you know what that is?”
“My wife used those words.” Eldri had no idea what they meant, but he suspected this wasn’t the best time to reveal that. “We hoped it would heal me.”
“Did you experience any convulsions during the battle?” the doctor asked. Although hostility remained in his mind, his interest in Eldri’s health overrode it for now.
“No, actually,” Eldri said. “But I have had two of the big ones in the two months since then. More of the smaller.”
“If you consent to an examination,” Tyra said, “we can set up a plan of treatment for you.”
He stiffened. “What does ‘treatment’ involve?”
“You will probably have several options. We could give your body a type of medicine called nanomeds. They will release chemicals to control the seizures. Some interlock with neurons and prevent them from firing. You could take medicines orally or with a syringe.” She paused. “Sometimes it is possible to operate on the brain and heal what causes the seizures. In your case, we don’t think that will work.”
Eldri didn’t understand most of what she said, but it all sounded horrendous. “And if I don’t have this treatment? What will happen to me?”
The doctor spoke, his dedication to healing stronger than his obvious dislike of Eldri. “You may be at risk for status epilepticus. It means the seizure doesn’t stop or that you have several without your body recovering in between.” Quietly he added, “It could kill you.”
Eldri pushed his hand through his hair. He knew, from what Garlin had told him, that he had suffered several bouts similar to what they described, though perhaps not as serious. It had terrified Garlin, and afterward Eldri had felt as if he were coming back from the dead. He never wanted to experience it again.
He steeled himself. “Very well. You may do your tests.”
His answer seemed to be what they wanted to hear. The men flicked their fingers through the holos above their palmtops.
Eldri rested his forearms on the table, clasping his hands as he sought to appear more composed than he felt. “And my wife? My son? Have you news of them?” His heart beat hard.
The doctor spoke curtly. “No.”
Despite Eldri’s determination to project calm, his voice caught. “Surely you must know if they are well. Anything.”
Tyra answered more gently. “From what we have heard, your wife and the boy are doing fine.”
Eldri nodded, striving for control. “Thank you.”
He held back his sorrow, knowing he could only shed his tears alone, away from these unwelcome strangers.
23
Lights on the Lake
Kurj pressed the panel on Roca’s door again. A chime echoed inside, but no one answered. Trees rustled around him, making dappled shadows on the graceful house, with its peaked roof and intricately carved gables. His inner lids covered his eyes, giving the scene a gilded quality, as if it were an anachronism, an old-fashioned photograph.
“Primary Skolia?” a voice asked.
Kurj looked around. “Who is that?”
“The house EI. Would you like to enter?”
He could imagine what his mother would say if he walked into her home without her consent, especially with the strain between them so great these past four months, since he had taken her from Skyfall. “No. I will return when she is here.”
“The Councilor should return soon. She went for a walk. However, you are on the list of visitors I may allow entry.”
That surprised him. He had thought she wanted him to vanish from her life altogether. “Perhaps she forgot to remove my name.”
“She updated the list this morning.”
Interesting. “Then I will wait inside.”
The door shimmered and faded, offering him access. He walked through the entrance foyer into the airy living room full of sunlight, with high ceilings that created attractive spaces.
A curvaceous girl with blond hair and a pretty face came out of an inner room. When she saw Kurj, she froze, her face paling. Then she dropped onto one knee and bowed her head.
Kurj paused. Why was this stranger here? He couldn’t help but notice the way her white dress fit her ample breasts. He went over to her. “Please stand.”
She rose to her feet, her gaze averted. “My honor at your presence, Prince Kurj.”
He scratched his chin. “Who are you?”
“Callie Summerlet. Eldrin’s nurse.” She glanced up with a hesitant smile, but her agitation came through clearly. His size frightened her, as did his title and reputation.
Now that he thought about it, he did remember his mother mentioning she had a girl look after Eldrin for a few hours in
the afternoon. By using the Kyle webs and VR technology, Roca could do her work as a Councilor from this house, but she still needed some help with the baby.
It aggravated Kurj that Roca continued to outwit him and attend the Assembly. He couldn’t even demand someone else deal with the Skyfall situation. Had it already been a Skolian world, it would have come under the auspices of Planetary Development and Domestic Affairs. But no, the accursed Allieds had to claim it. Until the Assembly cut a deal with them, it continued to be an Allied world, which made it the purview of the Foreign Affairs Councilor. Pah. He had to block her transmissions. She was far too effective a speaker.
That was no reason, however, to alarm this attractive person. Kurj found her lovely, the type of woman he favored. He moderated his voice into a friendly tone. “How is my brother?”
Her enthused smile lit up her face, taking away her shyness. “Ah, Your Highness, he is such a delightful baby.”
The room lost its gold tinge as his inner lids raised. “I’m glad.”
“Would you like to see him?”
He thought of Eldrin, and an inexplicable warmth came over him, a feeling difficult to define. “Yes. I would like that.”
Callie led him into a bedroom. A white cradle stood by the bed, rocking under its own power. Designs covered it, soft-looking animals with round faces, smiles, and large eyes.
Kurj peered inside. Eldrin was as hale and healthy as ever, but much quieter than usual, taking a nap. Odd that such a small human could make so much noise when awake and look so beatific when asleep. Kurj felt the same softening inside that always came to him when he saw his brother. Bending over, he touched the baby’s cheek. Eldrin stirred and made sucking motions with his lips.
“He is remarkable, isn’t he?” Kurj couldn’t keep the wonder out of his voice. Abruptly remembering the girl, he straightened up and schooled his face to impassivity. The room turned gold.
“Would you like to hold him?” Callie’s blue eyes had a glow that made her even more inviting. Kurj thought surely she must be trying to tempt him, but from her mind he could tell her eagerness came from her affection for Eldrin rather than any interest in him. Disappointing, that.