A rustle brought him awake. Lifting his head, he saw Robert in the entrance. His aide held a tray with a white pot and several sparkling diamond-china cups, each gilded in gold.
“Come in.” Jai sat forward.
Robert entered and set the tray on the table by Jai’s chair. “Would your Highness like his bed prepared?”
Jai reddened. “That won’t be necessary.” Having his household staff “prepare” his bed had turned out to mean bringing him a provider. They seemed to find his celibacy strange. With so much emphasis on heredity and inheritance, the penalty for adultery among Hightons was death, in law if not always in practice. Supposedly, no one cared if Aristos played with their providers, but Jai didn’t see it that way. Besides, he had no intention of risking his betrothed’s wrath. He would rather face a nuclear reactor gone critical than an angry Tarquine. The only provider he wanted anyway was Silver, and he couldn’t have her.
Jai picked up a cup of steaming kava and took a swallow, then sighed as the rich beverage warmed his throat. He motioned Robert to a nearby chair. “Any news on the ESComm investigation into Minister Iquar’s habitat?”
Robert took his seat, then slid a computer rod out of a sheath in his sleeve and unrolled it in his lap. Holicons formed over the screen, the holographic computer icons that specified functions of the comp. Robert flicked his finger through one, then read from his screen. “They’ve filed a report with the Intelligence Ministry.”
“Have someone send me a summary.”
Robert made a notation on his comp. “You will have it tomorrow morning, sir.”
“Good.” Jai took another swallow of kava. “What is happening with Corbal Xir?”
Robert checked his comp, then frowned. “Nothing, it seems. Both our people and ESComm are still examining the records of the provider stealing files from Admiral Kaliga.”
It didn’t sound promising. “Any indication the records were falsified?”
“Not yet.” Robert gave him an apologetic look.
Damn. Azile was pressuring him to free Corbal, but Jai knew if he simply ordered ESComm to do it, they would resist. He had neither the authority nor the savvy to bend them to his will. Saints knew, he could use Corbal’s advice now.
“Any progress in finding Sunrise?” he asked.
“None, Your Highness.” Robert didn’t hide his regret. “I’m sorry.”
Jai nodded, feeling heavy. If Sunrise really had stolen the files, he could hope she traded them to an Allied or Skolian agent in return for her freedom. If she had done it for another Aristo—no, he couldn’t believe she would betray Corbal that way. Besides, it made no sense; another Aristo would treat her with a brutality Corbal had foresworn. Of course, she might have been working for Corbal exactly as ESComm suspected. If so, Jai fervently hoped his cousin had made sure she didn’t come to harm.
Unfortunately, the worst scenario he could imagine was also the most likely, that someone had kidnapped her. It would have to be someone high in ESComm. The thought of what they would do to her haunted Jai.
He set down his kava. “I would like updates every morning on the search. If any breakthrough occurs, let me know immediately.”
Robert made a note on his screen. “I’ll see to it myself, Your Highness.”
“Thank you, Robert.”
Pleased surprise came from his aide, though outwardly Robert showed only his usual calm efficiency. It puzzled Jai. He saw no reason why his comments should surprise or gratify his aide.
Robert scanned his schedule. “You have a meeting tomorrow with representatives from the insurance bureaus.”
Jai didn’t relish facing them. “Are they arranging the repayment to Minister Iquar?”
“It appears so.” Robert studied his screen. “Her status creates complications.”
“Why?” Jai wished he didn’t always feel as if he lagged ten steps behind everyone else.
“She will be empress.” Robert shifted his weight. “It is necessary to, uh, avoid the implication—that is, you might say . . .”
Jai regarded him wearily. “Yes?”
“Your Most Gracious Highness, I would never imply—”
“I know, Robert.” Jai rubbed his eyes. “Just tell me.”
Robert cleared his throat. “It is necessary to avoid the appearance of coercion by the Qox Dynasty to make the bureaus pay monies above those specified in the hearing.”
“Of course I’m not trying to make them give my future wife more money.” Like Tarquine needed it. In preparation for joining the Qox and Iquar Lines, one of his aides had shown him her financial records. She was even wealthier than he would have guessed in his most generous estimates.
“No, certainly, of course not, Your Glorious Highness.” Robert’s face had gone red. “This can be made clear in your meeting with the bureau chiefs.”
Jai considered him. He had chosen Robert as his personal aide over several others with more experience, in part because Robert’s mind exerted no mental pressure, but also because the aide knew all sorts of useful palace scuttlebutt. He had been at the palace for ten years and had served Jai’s grandfather, Ur Qox, until Ur’s death three years ago.
“Robert,” he said. “Prepare a statement for me to give in tomorrow’s meeting.”
“Certainly, sir.” Robert entered commands into his comp. “What would you like to say?”
“You write a first draft. Have it for me to read in the morning.”
Again surprise came from Robert’s mind; Ur Qox would never have allowed him such a responsibility. From what Jai had seen in the records, Ur Qox had wasted his aide’s talents.
Robert sat up straighter. “I will have it ready for you at breakfast.”
“Good.” Jai leaned back, too tired to stay upright. “Anything else I need to know tonight?”
Robert checked his comp. “The delegation from the Diamond Coalition canceled their request for an audience.”
Jai inwardly swore. Corbal had worked for years on that project, a new banking system in Sapphire Sector that he was establishing with the Diamond Coalition. With the right ties between the palace and the Coalition, they could all profit from the partnership. But the Diamonds had been skittish lately. “Why did they cancel their request to meet with me?”
Robert scanned his screen. “They sent a lengthy and extremely complimentary document to you.”
Jai grimaced. “Can you summarize?”
“They want more time to work on their plans.”
Jai didn’t believe it. “What do you think really happened?”
Robert looked up at him. “The Blue-Point Diamond Line changed their minds about wanting to work with the palace on this project.”
A memory jumped into Jai’s mind: the dinner at Kaliga’s home. Damn. One of the guests had been an elder Blue-Point lord. Jai didn’t doubt his own behavior that night had put off the lord. And Corbal, who set up the deal with the Diamond Coalition, was in ESComm custody. Corbal probably could have dealt with the situation, but Jai had no idea what to do.
Propping his elbow on the arm of his chair, Jai rested his head on his hand. “Leave the report for me. If you have recommendations, leave those, too.”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Anything else?” He hoped not; he desperately needed sleep.
“I have an answer to your inquiry about Jafe Maccar.”
Jai lifted his head. Ever since Kelric had asked him to pardon Maccar, the Skolian merchant captain, Jai had wondered why. ESComm wouldn’t tell him anything. Although the military was supposed to be under his command, they were impressively adept at bypassing him. He had to fight for every scrap of information he wrested from them.
“What did you find out?” Jai asked.
Robert read from his screen. “Jafe Maccar commanded a Skolian merchant ship, the Corona. In the chaos after the Radiance War, trade restrictions between Eube and Skolia eased for a while. Maccar arranged a lucrative deal with Lady Zarine Raziquon, who owns the habitat Chrysa
lis Station. She offered him a large payment for a shipment of Targali silks, jewelry, spices, china, silver, and antique boxes.”
“Let me guess,” Jai said dryly. “Lady Zarine tried to cheat him, he protested, and ESComm threw him in jail.”
“I’m not sure.” Robert’s forehead furrowed. “She paid for the shipment. As he was returning to his ship, she sent him an escort of vessels.”
“An escort? Why?”
“To guarantee him safe passage out of Eubian space.”
“Then why did ESComm imprison him?”
Robert continued reading. “For some reason, Maccar’s flotilla attacked hers. The ships did battle, and most of the Skolian vessels escaped. But ESComm caught Maccar’s ship. They deported the crew back to Skolia and sentenced Maccar to ten years in prison.”
Jai stared at him. “Why the blazes would Maccar attack his escort?”
Robert scrolled through more files. “The attack appears unprovoked.”
“Appears?”
Robert regarded him uneasily. “Maccar was under the protection of a Highton noblewoman. She would have done everything in her power to ensure his safe return home.”
Sure. It was also possible that Lady Zarine had tried to steal Maccar’s ships, forcing the crews to defend themselves. But he needed to know Maccar hadn’t committed a crime before he could act on Kelric’s request. “Look into the matter, Robert. I need more details.”
“Right away.” Robert made another entry on his comp.
“Anything else?”
His aide hesitated. “Your Most Gracious Highness—”
Ah, no. He became a “Gracious Highness” whenever his staff feared they were about to say something he wouldn’t like. “Go ahead.”
“It is the matter of your betrothal.”
“My betrothal.” He was afraid to ask.
Robert crinkled the screen of his comp, then realized what he was doing and smoothed it out. “It must be announced.”
Jai tried to focus his weary mind. “I did that at the hearing.”
“Well, yes, you did.” Robert quickly added, “And a wise decision you made.” He did his best not to look doubtful. “However, it would be most glorious, Your Esteemed Highness, if you were to announce it to the public.”
Jai winced. “Oh. Yes, of course.” An insurance hearing was hardly the venue for the announcement of an imperial betrothal. “Can you put the Protocol Office on it?”
“Certainly.” Robert looked relieved. “You and Minister Tarquine will be expected to appear on the broadcast.”
“Have Protocol let us know what they want.”
“I will do that.”
“Anything else?” Please say no.
“No, sir.” Robert averted his gaze and carefully rolled up his screen. He slipped the rod into the sheath inside his sleeve.
Jai could tell Robert was troubled. He eased his mental barriers—and discovered his aide was in pain.
“Are you all right?” Jai asked.
“Yes, Your Highness.” Robert wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“Can I help with anything?”
Robert hesitated, then ran his finger under the metallic ring that circled his neck. It resembled bronze, but was more flexible than metal. “Your Most Gracious Highness, please know I would never presume—but I—”
Baffled, Jai said, “But you . . . ?”
“It no longer fits.”
“The collar?”
Robert paled. “Yes. Please forgive my deplorable presumption.”
Jai stared at him blankly. “What deplorable presumption?”
“To refit the collar will require removing it.”
“And?” As far as Jai was concerned, Robert could throw the blasted thing away.
“You must authorize the removal.”
“All right.” Jai rubbed his eyes. “I authorize whatever you need. Let whoever fixes those things know.”
“Your Highness.” Robert cleared his throat.
“Yes?”
“I cannot request this work.” He was stumbling over his words. “You must do it.”
Like the shift of an optical illusion, Jai’s perception changed. He kept thinking of his staff as people hired at the palace, but they weren’t employees. He owned them. He had let himself believe, subconsciously, that they could take off their slave restraints when they went home. Of course they couldn’t. Judged from Robert’s behavior, even suggesting temporary removal of a collar could be a punishable offense. Jai had to think about it, whether he liked it or not; he was responsible for their lives and health.
Jai realized he was clenching his fist on his knee, his fingernails gouging his palm. He opened his hand and stretched his fingers. “Be assured I will have the matter taken care of so you no longer experience discomfort.”
“You are most kind, Your Gracious Highness.”
Jai didn’t feel kind. He felt like a monster. “Please make it known among my staff that if anyone else has such a problem, they can tell me.”
“I will take care of it, sir.”
“Good.”
After Robert left, Jai walked to the bed and collapsed across it, fully dressed. He lay there longing for home, for the people he loved, for a sane universe. Just a few months ago he had been spending his free time at the arcade with his friends, playing hologames. He had never had to worry about military intrigues, insurance bureaus, coalitions, imperial protocol, deadly brides, or kidnapped providers. He hadn’t been responsible for thousands of people who couldn’t even go to a metalworker without his permission. Hell, it wasn’t just his staff; he owned entire worlds. In hologames, ruling an empire had been fun.
In reality, it terrified him.
Moisture gathered in his eyes. He wiped it away, angry with himself. Then he tried to fall asleep, where dreams would let him escape the impossible demands of reality.
17
Beginnings
The meeting will take place on Earth,” the Minister of Protocol said. She was speaking to one of her aides, so she could be direct, but her words were meant for Jai. She stood next to him on a holostage. A gaunt Highton woman from the Haquail Line, she had a mind that grated like sandpaper. Jai was too tense to speak at all, let alone cope with the labyrinth of Highton speech. Mercifully, the aides with them had too little Aristo heritage to exacerbate his headache.
The holostage took up one end of the media studio. A screen curved around half of the elliptical stage, and consoles filled the room, as operators prepared to transmit Jai’s words. Media techs were setting up a white chair in one focal point of the stage. Protocol aides bustled around Jai, dusting off his clothes, making sure he presented an impeccable appearance. His rich garb was solid black and severely cut, both the trousers and high-necked shirt.
A tech came over and knelt with his head bowed. Embarrassed, Jai motioned for him to stand. When the tech had risen, Jai said, “You have a message?” He tried to ignore the protocol people combing his hair.
The tech motioned at the chair on the stage. “Just to warn you; it may look odd during the transmission. We’ll be overlaying it with an image from the Hall of Circles.”
An image? “Of what?”
“The Carnelian Throne, Your Highness.”
Jai nodded, disrupting the efforts of an aide to blot nonexistent sweat from his forehead. No matter how imperial they made him look, it wouldn’t give him more confidence in his ability to pull this off. Today was too important to muddle, but he felt painfully unprepared.
Protocol spoke to the tech. “Any word on whether the transmission will be in real time?”
He bowed to her. “None yet, ma’am.”
She frowned. “I don’t see how the Allieds expect us to believe they can do this transmission. Neither they nor we have access to a Kyle web.”
The tech spoke carefully. “They have Ruby psions in custody on Earth. Perhaps they can create a temporary bubble of Kyle space.”
Jai wondered at that. The Kyle web, what Skol
ians called the psiberweb, was a network of computers in Kyle space, outside of spacetime, making instant communication possible among the stars. But the web had collapsed during the war. He had his doubts that the Ruby psions in custody on Earth could re-create even a temporary webnode without a Lock.
Protocol didn’t look convinced either. She glanced at Jai. “Your Highness?”
Jai lifted his hand in the gesture that allowed the tech to leave. He wanted to rake his fingers through his hair, but he held back, knowing it would horrify the aides working so diligently on his appearance. It was hard to stay still; Protocol’s mind made him want to twitch.
A console operator came over to them and knelt to Jai, her long hair curtaining her face.
“Please rise,” Jai said.
As she stood, she spoke with deference. “We’re ready to start, Your Highness. We’ve received a signal from Earth.”
Jai tensed. “You mean a real-time signal?”
“Yes, sir. No delays.”
Protocol exhaled. “So. They did it.” She didn’t sound pleased that the Allieds had managed to create a Kyle node.
Jai understood her reaction, though he didn’t share it. If the Allieds could make one node, they might soon make more. Could they create a Kyle web from Earth? Personally, he hoped so; it would help keep a balance of power among Skolia, Eube, and the Allieds. Hightons didn’t want a balance; they wanted ascendancy over the rest of humanity.
The aides finally quit fussing over him. With Protocol at his side, Jai crossed the holostage and sat in the white chair. A tech put a comm button in his ear, and Robert’s voice came over it. “We’re ready, Your Highness.”
Jai wished his hands weren’t so clammy. He took a deep breath. “Begin.”
Everyone withdrew from the stage, leaving him alone. A console operator started the sequence to receive the signal from Earth. No one spoke. Jai realized he was holding his breath.
Suddenly a woman’s voice came out of the console, speaking an unfamiliar language. Another voice translated it into Highton: “His Royal Highness, Eldrinson Althor Valdoria, Web Key to the Triad and the King of Skyfall.”