The Diabolic

  Sidonia’s family wasn’t a rare exception, where the child had been brought to court in the parent’s place. She was just the first child collected from many other great families. The Emperor was gathering the heirs in his fortress.

  But why? To what end?

  I’d paused so long, Deadly grew restless at my side. He began making odd noises, so I turned to him. He lunged for me—but not to bite me. He began licking my cheek.

  A bubbling noise escaped my lips in my surprise. It took me a moment to feel my smile, to realize what the sound was.

  I’d laughed. Laughed.

  I reared back from the dog, swept up his leash, and tugged him into step with me, shaken inside. My fingers roved my lips, where that laugh had come out of me unplanned, unintended.

  Whatever was the matter with me?

  “My moth—um, I’m worried.”

  Sidonia was using the Matriarch’s avatar again, making her high voice and uncertain question seem all the more incongruous.

  “Worried about me?” I echoed.

  Donia’s gaze wavered. “More or less.”

  Of course the Matriarch wasn’t worried about me. She had to have some sources at court. She must have heard about my interference in the arena and the scandal it caused.

  “All is well. Tell everyone at the fortress that. I made a rash move that I won’t repeat. And assure, uh, yourself that I’m lying very low at the moment. Attention spans are very short here. Soon I’ll be forgotten. Though I . . .”

  “You what?”

  “I don’t believe Gladdic and I will be associating after this. I’m sorry.” He wasn’t worthy of her. I’d explain that to her someday.

  To my surprise, Donia waved that off as though it was inconsequential. “But tell me about you. I’m worried.”

  And this time, I knew she meant herself.

  I’m fine. I wanted to say it, to reassure her right away, but the way she was looking at me—even from behind the eyes of the Matriarch—made my chest grow tight.

  If anyone could answer my question, she could.

  “I’m fine. It’s just . . .” My thoughts rushed to Deadly, to the way he’d licked my face. To what I’d done after that. “I’ve been slightly out of sorts. I’m not used to being in this position. I laughed at something.”

  “You what?” gasped Donia.

  “The dog hybrid lunged at me. I thought he meant to bite me, but he was affectionate. He licked me and was so needy. And it just happened. I laughed. And I didn’t mean to do it.”

  “Nem—uh, Sidonia, that’s not something to fear.”

  The words set me on the defensive. “I’m not afraid.”

  A small smile quirked her lips. “I know. You’re not scared of anything. I wasn’t trying to imply that. I just meant, laughter isn’t something to feel unsettled about.”

  “You don’t understand. This is unlike me. It may be a sign something is wrong with me.”

  “Don’t you . . .” She blew out a breath, obviously noticing as I did the trickiness of saying most anything while on a potentially insecure connection. “Don’t you recall the day you got your Diabolic, Nemesis, and the way certain parts of her brain were made bigger? It was done so she could love you.” Her voice quavered. “But you don’t just build a part of the brain for one person. Once it’s there, it’s there. I bet Nemesis could have loved other things if given the chance. I bet she could learn to laugh at things too.”

  “That’s ridiculous. We’re talking about a Diabolic.”

  “Or we’re talking about a girl,” said Donia softly. “A girl who grew up treated like a monster, so she thinks of herself that way, a person who’s never allowed herself to feel because she thinks she shouldn’t—”

  “Nonsense. You’re being absurd.”

  But despite myself, I began thinking of Enmity, whose instincts as a Diabolic dictated that she pursue me, stalk me, unearth my secrets. Enmity, who’d put her own suspicions to rest at just a hint that I might possess an unusual ability to see creatures like her as people. It was as though she craved such understanding, or even needed it.

  Could we really be more than I’d ever fathomed?

  Donia seemed to think so. “Don’t you see why Nemesis would never laugh? She was never allowed to laugh, never given a reason to laugh. I don’t know what the corrals were like, but they must have been horrifying, traumatic. And I wasn’t any better to her.”

  This time, “I” referred to her mother, of course.

  “Then once she had, uh, you to watch out for, Nemesis took her role so earnestly, she couldn’t let herself do something like laugh. If she had a chance away from all that to be her own person and learn to feel her feelings, it’s not something to fear. It’s beautiful. It’s a wonderful thing.”

  Aggravation reared up within me. “If everything you say was true, if . . . if Nemesis were capable of such feelings, then there’d be no difference between a Diabolic and a person but for physical strength.”

  “Maybe there isn’t. Not as much of one as you think.” Donia firmed her lips. “That’s what I’ve always thought. That’s what I’ve always said.”

  I closed my eyes. My mind was back on that little girl in my pen with me. On Sutera’s guileless expression just before I seized her. My thoughts turned to all those lives I’d taken over the years.

  Doing that made me a good Diabolic.

  Being a good Diabolic meant being a hideous person.

  If I was a person, then everything I was, everything I had become, was profane and warped and evil. I was either a perfectly acceptable Diabolic or an abomination of a human being.

  “This conversation is foolish. I can’t speak to you anymore. I need to go,” I said.

  “But—”

  “I am ending this conversation!” And I cut the link with Sidonia off and settled, shaken, in my villa. I looked over at Deadly, slumbering in the corner, and resolved to put the dog in the arena tomorrow and be rid of him. And then he lifted his head at my scrutiny and stared back at me, his ears flattening, and a crushing sensation gripped my chest as I knew I could not do it.

  What was the matter with me? The only thing I’d ever felt something for was Donia. She was all that mattered, and now this stupid genetically engineered hybrid was making me act like an irrational idiot.

  I’d even forgotten to tell Donia about the imperial heirs being collected at court, which was the whole reason I’d contacted her.

  It was no disaster to wait until next time.

  18

  THE GRAND SANCTUM was located in the Valor Novus, directly beneath the Great Heliosphere. It was seldom used. It was there for the rare occasions when Senators and other government representatives arrived from all over the Empire for a Convocation. Convocations were major events, usually when a new Emperor was inaugurated. Generations might enter the Senate and pass on without attending a formal Convocation. It wasn’t just Senators who convened, but all the lesser quorums of the Empire’s ruling classes: Viceroys, Governors, and hereditary titleholders from families too important traditionally to lack a rank, but too poor to hold real territory.

  That was why it came as a shock when I received a message that an actual Convocation was to be held in a day. I was ordered to attend as Senator von Impyrean’s proxy.

  I listened to the message again, trying to comprehend it. That was when the intercom in my villa announced, “Neveni Sagnau to see Sidonia Impyrean.”

  I turned to Neveni as she walked in. Her hair was a mess, as though she’d just stumbled out of bed and come directly to me, as perplexed as I was.

  “Did you hear about a Convocation, or is someone playing a prank on me?”

  “You’re summoned as well?”

  “As my mother’s proxy.” Her eyes were wide, panic-stricken. “I don’t know anything about doing my mother’s job. What do th
ey mean I have to proxy for her?”

  “We go in their stead.” Even as I spoke, the idea confused me. Senator von Impyrean could just attend the Convocation over the galactic forums. There was no need for me to go in his place. Something strange was happening here.

  “There are going to be thousands of people there,” Neveni said, almost to herself. “Surely we won’t have to do anything but listen.”

  “Right.”

  “But . . . listen to what?”

  I shook my head, as clueless as she was.

  “I tried contacting my mother and I couldn’t get through.” She sank down into a seat. “Sidonia, this is really strange. They can’t just give us one day’s notice. How does the Emperor expect everyone to get here in time?”

  A cold feeling shot through me. My mind turned to the wall of sigils I’d seen down Berneval Stretch, evidence of all the recently arrived Grandiloquy.

  The Emperor, I realized, had already gathered everyone needed for the Convocation in advance. He must have been planning this since before he summoned Sidonia.

  But to what end?

  Like Neveni, I sent out a message to my family. I tried to contact the Impyrean fortress, hoping for instructions, for guidance. For something.

  But like Neveni, I received no reply.

  Convocations required something more than just ceremonial gowns. They required reflective screen garb, so when all the representatives throughout the Empire gathered in the Grand Sanctum, where the gravity was specially designed to allow every square centimeter of floor, ceiling, and wall to be occupied by seats and people, our clothing itself amplified the image of the Emperor on his floating throne at the very center.

  Most of the lesser Grandiloquy had to beg and borrow money for their specialized garb. I bought Neveni her own. The Matriarch would not be pleased by this expense once I got in contact with her.

  There were sixty greater Grandiloquy families in total, the most powerful of the Senate and the most important territory holders in the Empire. As the representative for the Impyrean family, my seat was in the inner circle, up a precarious climb of platforms that encircled the Emperor’s position. When I found my position, the stairwell retracted into the floor behind me. I chanced a look around.

  The sheer scale of the Convocation took my breath. All over the spherical space, bodies moved, people shifting about, their specialized clothing flickering with the color corresponding to the section they were supposed to occupy. Somewhere out there was Neveni. Closer to me, at the next seat over, sat Senator von Pasus. It was my first time seeing the great opponent of the Impyreans in person.

  I studied him, my keen eyesight able to pick out his features despite the distance between us. His hair was long and gray, signs of age on his face. Clearly he wasn’t one to liberally use false-youth treatment. Perhaps it was his attempt to appear more dignified. It occurred to me that unlike many of the other Senators here, Senator von Pasus had been given enough notice to come in person from his own star system.

  My eyes roved over the other representatives of great families. Senators von Fordyce and Aton were both there, but a scattering of other families were represented only by their heirs as proxies. Our Convocation garb was programmed to display our family sigils, so I easily picked out the heirs to the Amador and Chomderley families. All young, all twitchy and uneasy-looking.

  There was a clear distinction, I realized suddenly. The Senators of the Helionic faction were all here in person. Senator von Impyrean’s faction, though, was entirely absent—their heirs all here as proxies in their stead.

  I clenched and unclenched my fists, knowing something was very wrong. All I could do was wait.

  Then the air split with the boom of the imperial celebration music, and the great procession of the royal relatives streamed out. They took their place at the circle just inside ours.

  At last, out came the Emperor and his three Diabolics.

  Along with a stream of thousands of security bots.

  I caught my breath and looked around as the small metallic machines whizzed up into the air and took positions throughout the room. Not firing, just positioning themselves in silent threat before each section of the room. One security bot positioned itself before each of the seats of the great families. I found myself gazing directly into the targeting eye of a small, rounded device hovering mere meters from my position. My eyes could pick out the tiny pinprick laser barrel jutting out from it, ready to slice me in two.

  Yet when I peered over at Senator von Pasus, I discovered that those families in favor with the Emperor had no such security bots aiming at them. The Helionic faction, again, had been spared.

  Goose bumps prickled down my spine. I could vault from this chair and swat down the bot before me, but I knew one of the other bots could easily swivel around and kill me moments later. I just had to sit here and be obedient, whatever happened. I was trapped.

  The Emperor raised his arms out to the side, and immediately the images on distant clothing shifted and began to form pixels of a larger image: that of Emperor von Domitrian’s face, his skin a peach shade today, his blond hair woven with gold and set in a halo about his head, his eyes glowing proudly as he surveyed his subjects. When he raised his chin, we all pressed our hands to our hearts in salute. The rippling of arms moving in unison from so many bodies momentarily entranced me.

  And then the Emperor spoke:

  “Beloved subjects, I thank you for arriving as representatives or proxies for all the territories of our great Empire. We convene here today to celebrate victories over our enemies, present and past. Those battles form the foundation of humanity’s current greatness and galactic dominance. . . .”

  I looked to the sides, the Emperor’s proud countenance beaming at me from all angles, and found other people—the proxies, like me—glancing around as well, trying to figure out what was going on. Surely the Emperor hadn’t gone to the trouble of a Convocation without an important reason.

  And then we learned why we were here.

  “Alas, despite this Empire enjoying prosperity and strength under the rule of the Domitrian family for many centuries now, we find ourselves at a dangerous crossroads. There is a malevolent ideology growing like a cancer in our midst. I speak, of course, of those who seek to recover the sciences best forgotten.”

  I caught my breath. This was why we were here.

  “Those who believe this dangerous new ideology aren’t merely hysterics who believe malignant space is a great menace sure to engulf the Empire one day, or Partisans among the Excess who believe themselves more powerful without our benign hand to guide them. There are traitors and blasphemers from the very highest ranks of this hallowed Empire.”

  My eyes remained locked on him, on that small figure on his throne amid this great assembly—not the larger-than-life face staring out from the electronic clothing. All I could think of was the fissure in opinion since my actions in the arena, the way the Chrysanthemum had seemed polarized. The Impyreans were at the center of this. They were the unofficial leaders of the “cancerous” faction the Emperor detested.

  “Some Senators and Viceroys have taken it into their heads that they, and not I, should make decisions for the good of the Empire. They’ve spread to the Excess those heresies they do not need to know. They’ve breached the sacred mysteries of the Living Cosmos, even against my express orders. Many of you know who these traitors are. Many of you are spawn of these traitors.”

  My hands curled into fists, my heart pounding. I gazed directly at the machine floating before me, poised to shoot, wondering if I was about to die.

  The Emperor let the silence hang there, grow thicker. With each passing moment, it became more difficult to imagine anyone breaking it, and perhaps that was what the Emperor intended. His smile broadened over his false-youth face.

  “That’s why I’ve called you here for a very special Co
nvocation. You see, the errant few who spread these blasphemies—they weren’t invited. In respect to the sanctity of the great families, I combed the Grandiloquy for the most suitable heirs, the ones who both represent old blood and obedience to their rightful leaders—and I summoned them all here.”

  I stared at him, filled with apprehension.

  “Today we are gathered here for one purpose alone: some of you have proven yourselves worthy of your family power, but your relatives, alas, have not. As of today, you take over their titles, their duties. Those of you here to serve as proxies are now elevated to leadership of your families.”

  I gawked at him. He couldn’t just say Senator von Impyrean wasn’t Senator anymore, that Sidonia was instead. It didn’t work that way. Even the Emperor couldn’t just arbitrarily replace people like that.

  And were it not for these security bots poised to slaughter us all, someone might have pointed that out already.

  “And to ensure this smooth transition of titles,” the Emperor went on, his smile like ice, “I’ve eliminated the other contenders who’d question your claim.”

  Everything in me froze.

  I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand.

  Voices fanned out around me, behind me, as people made sense of his words. All I could do was sit there and think with utter disbelief that this wasn’t right, that I’d misheard.

  “And so I called this Convocation today so you can look upon one another,” said the Emperor, “the new and old inheritors of this great Empire. And of course, so we may pay tribute to those misguided souls who are no longer here to corrupt this august assembly.” He waved his hand elegantly in the air.

  And then on the glowing clothing of the lesser Grandiloquy of the outer ring, the images began to flicker. An imposing space station enveloped in a sudden burst of flames. A fleet of ships swallowed up by an automated minefield. A planet swept with an explosion.