Tarquine spoke. “It would appear we were all poisoned that night.” Although she addressed the doctor, she obviously meant her comment for Kaliga.
Following her lead, Kaliga also addressed the doctor. “Poisoned how?” It allowed him to be more direct without insulting the empress.
“We are investigating,” Qoxdaughter said. “We found the poison in the wine.”
Kaliga didn’t believe it. He recalled how his provider, Silver, had forgotten to test the emperor’s drink at that long ago dinner. Was this some sort of strange payback? Jaibriol would have to be even more unstable than he had thought, to risk his deteriorating relations with ESComm for such a petty revenge, especially given how he had taken Silver that night, asserting his rights as emperor and Kaliga’s guest. It was foolish enough to make Kaliga wonder if the assassination story actually had some truth to it. He wouldn’t be surprised if other parties wanted Jaibriol dead. He would have to investigate.
To the doctor, he said only, “I have protections against poisons.”
She nodded. “Molecular sheaths hid this one. The chemicals passed even the emperor’s safeguards.”
It sounded unlikely. “I would like to see the design.”
Qoxdaughter didn’t blink. “Of course, sir.”
“Who planned the assassination?” he asked.
“We aren’t sure yet. Security is investigating.”
It was a stock answer. Kaliga didn’t bother to respond.
Tarquine spoke in her cultured voice. “To express his apology, the emperor has speeded up the release of Lord Raziquon. The pardon became effective today.”
That fit more with Jaibriol’s behavior prior to the gassing. Perhaps the boy might develop some sense yet, though whether it would be in time to save his reign, Kaliga had his doubts. “It pleases the Line of Kaliga to know the Hightons are once again coming into balance.” Putting an Aristo in prison had been an abomination. “The Line of Kaliga and the Line of Raziquon have many kin in common.”
Tarquine’s lips curved in an icy smile. “We will see that Lord Raziquon receives a proper escort home.”
Kaliga had no doubt she intended to question Raziquon, discreetly of course. The faster he removed Raziquon from Glory, the better. He had a great deal to discuss with the lord, and he preferred to do away from the emperor’s intelligence systems, which networked the entire planet.
“The arrangements made at the Qoxire starport for my private yacht were impeccable,” he said.
“It pleases me to hear.” Tarquine was regal in her aloof demeanor.
“The Lines of Kaliga and Raziquon have long traveled together.” Actually, that wasn’t true; their Lines had battled more often than cooperated. But the statement would serve his purposes now. He had no doubt that Tarquine understood he was offering to escort Raziquon home. She wouldn’t like it, but she had no good reason to refuse.
The barest hint of displeasure escaped the empress. Had Kaliga been any less adept at reading nuances of posture, he would have missed it. But her response was above reproach. “It would be fortuitous indeed if Kaliga could provide Raziquon the worthy escort its lord deserves.”
He gave her his predator’s smile. “Fortuitous indeed.”
Releasing Raziquon was a start, but it wasn’t enough, especially after this gassing incident. Jaibriol had to cancel the talks with the Skolians.
If the emperor persisted with this treason, Kaliga knew exactly how he could stop it.
In the night sky, six moons cast light across the palace gardens, all of them different shades of violet, amber, and blue. Corbal stood within a gazebo, hidden in shadow. Night-blooming ice blossoms twined around its lattice walls and up the posts to the roof.
“My greetings, Lord Xir,” a throaty voice said.
Corbal turned, startled, though he had expected company. Tarquine was standing on the other side of the gazebo.
He inclined his head. “My greetings, Your Highness.”
“A lovely night.”
“So it is.”
Her voice hardened. “A good night for freedom.”
“I imagine Lord Raziquon thinks so.” He couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice. For all that it would have been political suicide to keep Raziquon in prison, Corbal would have gladly let him rot there.
“So he must,” Tarquine said. “As does Admiral Kaliga.”
“Kaliga?”
Her stiff, straight posture indicated anger. “He generously offered to take Raziquon home on his yacht.”
Damnation. The last thing they needed was a stronger alliance between Kaliga and Raziquon. “May they both live in all the glory and esteem they deserve.” Corbal gritted his teeth.
Tarquine joined him and gazed out at the distant palace. To the north, on a plateau, the needled spires of the emperor’s starport rose into the sky. Her voice sounded shadowed. “Raziquon knows a great deal.”
Too much. “He seems to have ties to ESComm.”
“And to platinum mines. Illegal mines.”
His hand tightened on the rail of the gazebo.
“Ghost mines,” he said.
She turned to him. “Ghost?”
“False. He planted false information in Sunrise’s mind. Had he remained in prison, he couldn’t have defended himself against the claim that he owns those mines. But now—” He made himself release the rail. “Were some misguided Hightons to make such an accusation against Raziquon, it would cause them far more trouble than him.” It astonished him that Sunrise had gone so deeply into her mind, enduring the pain of her memories, doing it for him, Corbal Xir, to stop him from making that false accusation. It made him want vengeance more now than ever.
“Mines can take new owners,” Tarquine said. Dryly she added, “I have plenty to spare.”
Corbal restrained the urge to remind her that those wretched mines of hers had helped cause this problem. Although they could forge documents making Raziquon the owner, it was too easy to disprove such evidence.
“Neural scans are almost impossible to forge,” he said. “The falsely accused can use them to prove they are telling the truth when they claim their innocence.” In prison, Raziquon wouldn’t have had recourse to such tests, but he had plenty now.
Tarquine blew out a gust of air. “So.”
As she and Corbal watched the starport, a ship lifted off in a dazzling display of fire and exhaust that seemed to mock them with its fiery show.
So Admiral Kaliga left Glory, taking Raziquon with him.
In the early morning light, Tarquine stood at her window above the moss-draped forest east of the palace. Beyond it, the Jaizire Mountains rose against the sky. On a distant balcony in an adjacent wing, she could see Jaibriol. Sunlight slanted across his face and wind ruffled his hair. She was too far away to make out details, but she knew his expression. She had seen his pensive gaze more and more lately, as he sought solitude on that isolated balcony.
The bodysculptors had done a superb job on his face. The differences were almost invisible; even someone who knew him well would have difficulty noting any change, except that he had a more regal aspect now. Far more important were the subtle changes he would never acknowledge: with a few well-chosen alterations, he had lessened his resemblance to the late Skolian Imperator, Sauscony Valdoria.
His guards stood back against the walls of the palace, far enough away to accommodate his need for space. Tarquine knew now that he couldn’t bear their half-Aristo minds. She also knew another truth. He was mourning. She felt it every time he looked at her, every time he held her at night. It was more than his conviction that his Joint Commanders would soon succeed in killing him. He mourned the failure he feared for the peace talks.
He mourned his parents.
Watching Jaibriol, she knew he condemned himself with his own purity of soul. He had too much goodness to do what was necessary to ensure his survival.
He was too decent.
But she wasn’t.
35
Summit
&nb
sp; Robert gave him the news.
Jaibriol and his aide stood together on the shore of Lake Mirellazile, its surface a mirror of the sky.
“They agreed?” Jai had to hear it again. He couldn’t yet believe this incredible news. “You’re certain?”
Robert nodded with no hint of joy. “Yes, sir. The Ruby Dynasty has agreed to go forward with the talks.”
Jai closed his eyes, giving himself over to gratitude. Whatever happened to him, however little time he had left, he at least had a chance to try. It was better, so much better, than nothing at all.
Opening his eyes, he smiled at Robert. “They agreed.”
“Your decision to free Ardoise apparently made the difference.”
“This is good.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Jai wished his aide didn’t look as if he were going to a funeral.
The console curved around the control chair where Jai would sit. He stood next to the chair while his staff fussed over him. Several other Hightons also waited in the chamber: the Protocol Minister; Azile Xir, the Intelligence Minister; High Judge Calope Muze; Corbal; and, of course, Tarquine.
Jai’s head ached. He longed to submerge himself in the virtual reality console, which would put physical as well as psychological distance between him and the others. Their consoles were well separated from his, by his deliberate choice.
A tech approached and went down on one knee.
“Please stand,” Jai said automatically.
She rose to her feet. “We’re ready, Your Highness.”
Jai nodded, aware of everyone listening. So this was it. Several techs fastened him into his console chair. The VR mesh folded around his body and inserted prongs into the sockets in his wrists, ankles, and spine, connecting to the newly implanted biomech web in his body so the console could communicate with his brain.
“Are you comfortable?” the tech asked.
“Yes, very good,” he said. She had no idea how much she and the other techs were helping him. Their minds made a bulwark between him and the others in the room, easing the pressure.
She tapped the console. “This will connect you into the Kyle web, what Skolians call the psiberweb.”
“They have a node available for our use?” Jai asked, yet again. He knew the Skolians had assured his staff they would create Kyle webnodes for the talks, but even after having used such a node before, he found it hard to believe his transmission would take only a few seconds to travel the light-years from Glory to Earth. Until it actually happened, it wouldn’t seem real.
The tech smiled. “Yes, sir,” she said, as patient now as the first time he had asked. “It is all set up.” She checked the readouts on his visor. “Ready?”
His pulse jumped. “Yes. Go ahead.”
She lowered the visor, enclosing him in darkness. A voice said, “Initiate,” and another said, “Activating VR.”
The voices faded. Jai waited, his hands clenched on the arms of his chair. The world brightened, until a white mist surrounded him. When it faded, he found himself standing in a white room. A square room. The strange angles disoriented him.
After a pause, he said, “I’ve arrived.” In fact, he had gone nowhere; he was still in his chair at the palace.
A rectangular door opened and a woman entered, an officer in uniform a blue skirt and blouse with gray hair cut stylishly around her face. She bowed deeply and spoke in Highton. “Welcome to Earth, Your Highness.”
“Hello,” Jai said in English.
The woman smiled. “Hello, sir.” She spoke English as perfectly as Highton.
“Are you an EI?” he asked.
“That I am. Would you like anything before we continue?”
Jai looked at himself. As always, he wore elegant black garb. He sighed. “I wish my clothes had color.”
The Evolving Intelligence paused, needing enough time to process his comment that it registered in real time. “You wish to change the protocols worked out by our staff and yours?”
“No. No, don’t do that.” Jai pushed his hand through his hair. It felt real. “I’m fine.”
The EI smiled. “Shall we proceed?”
“Yes, let us go.”
She ushered him into a corridor with marble columns for walls. The airy spaces gave Jai a sense of freedom. A group of people waited down the hall, men and women in uniforms. As Jai and his host approached the group, Jai recognized the woman in its center—Hanna Loughten, president of the Allied Worlds of Earth. Two honor guards waited with her, one of Allied dignitaries and the other with Eubian Razers. The computers had created the honor guards; Jai and Loughten were the only “real” people here, and even they were actually in consoles far away.
Loughten bowed to him. Disquieted, he realized he was becoming accustomed to Highton expectations; it felt strange to have her bow rather than kneel. Instead of the formal nod he would have given to another Eubian, he returned the bow, one leader to another.
“Emperor Jaibriol.” She spoke with the minimalist form of address Hightons used to indicate respect.
He inclined his head. “President Loughten.”
“Welcome to Earth, Your Highness.”
He answered in a modern form of Gaelic that derived from the tongue of her mother’s ancestors. “I thank you.”
She blinked. Then she smiled. He didn’t need empathy to see it pleased her that he had gone to such an effort to learn a greeting in her language.
The EI and honor guards escorted Jai and Loughten down the hall, which ended in a lobby bordered by an arcade. Above the balconies, sunlight poured through arched windows. The lack of right angles in the arches relieved Jai. It disquieted him to think how much he might eventually change, if after less than a year among the Hightons he had trouble adjusting to the geometry of Allied architecture.
They stopped before two great doors engraved with the Allied insignia, which consisted of concentric circles overlaid by a silhouette of the continents on the Earth.
Jai turned to Loughten. “Is everyone else inside?”
“Not quite,” she said. “Everyone but the Ruby Pharaoh, Empress Tarquine, First Councilor Tikal, and yourself.”
Puzzled, he looked around. “My wife isn’t here yet?”
President Loughten glanced at the gray-haired EI. “Has the empress arrived?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The EI indicated the hall behind them. Jai turned to see Tarquine approaching with her own honor guard. She wore trousers and a tunic similar to his, elegant and conservative, though with a more feminine cut. They made a matched pair, he and his empress, at least on the outside.
When she reached him, she bowed.
“My greetings.” Dryly, Jai added, “I am glad you decided to join us.”
She offered no explanations. “Shall we enter?”
Jai didn’t want to know why she had tarried. He didn’t want to hear that she had taken special efforts to prepare for this meeting that included Kelric.
The EI spoke. “First Councilor Tikal and the Ruby Pharaoh are ready to enter.”
“Very well.” Jai made a conscious effort not to look at Tarquine. He told himself he didn’t care about her former provider. He knew he was lying to himself, but too much was at stake to let Kelric Valdoria rattle him.
Their guards grasped the grand handles on the doors and heaved. The portals swung open, slowly, their height and weight making them impressive. Everyone walked forward, but most of them stopped just short of the door. Only Jai and Tarquine went on, until they were framed in the entrance.
The hall beyond dazzled Jai. Chandeliers filled it with light, tier upon tier of bright spheres. A round table took up the center, its white marble embedded with silver flecks. Many Hightons already sat there: Corbal Xir, High Judge Muze, Azile Xir, the Highton Foreign Affairs Minister, and several high-ranking ESComm officers.
Jai recognized the Skolians from holos he had seen: Roca Skolia, the Foreign Affairs Councilor—and his grandmother; General Naaj Majda, Matriar
ch of the House of Majda, the Skolian counterpart of Xirad Kaliga, and by reputation just as unyielding and conservative as he; Admiral Ragnar Bloodmark, roughly the Skolian counterpart of General Taratus, though ISC didn’t have joint military commanders. It had only one commander. The Imperator.
Kelric Valdoria.
He dominated the room. When Jai had met him in the Lock, his hair and eyes had been brown. Now he made no attempt to hide his metallic coloring. Gray streaked his hair and lines showed around his eyes. At two meters tall, over six feet six inches, he had broad shoulders, a massive chest, and long, muscular legs. This was no untried youth; his maturity added to his aura of power.
And he was looking at Tarquine.
Jai knew then that he could never compete with Kelric. He had no chance. Kelric could have enhanced his VR image or made himself look younger. Although all the parties had agreed to present their natural forms, anyone could have cheated if the enhancements were subtle enough. But Jai had met Kelric before. He knew the truth: his uncle had come as himself. That was more than enough.
Somehow Jai stopped himself from turning to see how Tarquine had reacted. He might be dying inside, but he refused to let it show.
Across the room, beyond the table, another set of double doors had opened at the same time as those where Jai stood with Tarquine. Jai finally absorbed who stood there: the Ruby Pharaoh and the Skolian First Councilor, respectively the hereditary and elected leaders of Skolia.
Jai recognized Barcala Tikal, the First Councilor, from the dossier he had studied. Tall and lanky, with dark hair, the Councilor projected confidence. But it wasn’t Tikal who riveted his attention. Jai thanked the saints he was in VR; he could never have hidden his gasp in real life, but the programs monitoring his simulation easily deleted it. So he stood, silent, staring at Dyhianna Selei, the Ruby Pharaoh, while he fought the hotness in his eyes.
She was a slim woman, petite, with a gaze that seemed to miss nothing. Although her dossier had included holos, the images hadn’t captured her essence, not for Jai. One aspect hit him above all else.
She looked like his mother.