The door vanished—and left a luminous woman framed in the archway. Silken hair poured over her shoulders, streaked gold from the sun and pale lavender underneath. Her eyes were large and violet, framed by glimmering lashes. She had on a dress, blue and soft, its skirt brushing her knees, its bodice snug. She looked like an angel come to Earth.
"Chaniece?" Del's native language burst out of him though he hadn't spoken it in over a year. "Is it you?"
She smiled at him. "I hope so." She stood with two large guards, undoubtedly Jagernauts. "May I come in?"
"Yes! Of course." He sped over and drew her inside. "How did you get to Earth?"
"I took a ship, silly." She glanced at Ricki, at Mac, then at Ricki. Hesitating, she said, "I'm sorry if I'm intruding."
"No! Never." Del touched her cheek, then dropped his arm, self-conscious.
Her smile turned radiant. "I listened to Starlight on the trip here." Her face gentled, so familiar, the curve of her cheek, the delicate arch of her brows. "I do so like it, Del."
A flush spread through him. He put his palms on her arms, and she tensed, the easy camaraderie of their youth gone. Then he thought, To hell with that and pulled her into an embrace.
"Thank you for coming," he whispered.
She put her arms around his waist and laid her head against his shoulder. "I wanted to before. Kelric said it wasn't safe."
"He was right."
"We thought it better if the boys stayed home."
Del drew away so he could look at her face. "I'll see them as soon as I get back."
Someone cleared his throat. Del turned to see Mac and Ricki watching them. Mac looked as if someone had dropped a brick on his head. Ricki was angry, but also . . . scared? Why?
Del brought Chaniece forward. It felt unreal to have her here. Impossible. Incredible. He spoke in the style of the Imperial Court, first in Iotic, then English. "Chaniece, may I present Michael Tyler, my personal manager, and Erica Varento, my producer at Prime-Nova."
Mac bowed to Chaniece and spoke in Iotic. "It is an honor, Your Highness."
"My greetings," Chaniece said softly.
Ricki should have bowed, but Del doubted she knew anything about court protocols. She returned Chaniece's curious look with a cold stare and spoke in English. "Hello."
Del translated, substituting "It's an honor to meet you" for "hello." He didn't fool Chaniece. Her curiosity bubbled around his mind.
She's lovely, Chaniece thought.
She puts together my anthologies.
Kelric said you have a girlfriend.
Del averted his gaze.
Ricki spoke coolly. "You seem to know each other well. Was that your native language?"
Del looked up, feeling so awkward. He wasn't prepared for this. "Yes. That's right."
Mac spoke to Chaniece in Iotic. "We'll have a translation program for you at the conference."
She inclined her head. "Thank you."
A hum came from Mac's wrist comm. When he touched it, Cameron's voice came out. "We're ready. Are you with Del?"
"He's right here," Mac said. "We'll be right down."
"All right," Cameron said. "Out."
Glancing at Chaniece, Del tilted his head toward her guards, who were standing back. Two of them?
Apparently one isn't enough, Chaniece thought wryly. An image of Tyra came into her mind.
That's because I kept ditching her. You're far better behaved.
You've done more than misbehaved.
The concert was something I had to do.
A sense of steel came into her thoughts. I'm glad you did.
Del suddenly felt lighter. He could handle censure from the rest of his family, but not her disapproval.
Tarex has a lot to answer for, she thought.
But he won't! The bastard left Earth right after my concert.
Del, that was good. It's why Staver's people could smuggle his provider off Earth.
She escaped? That's wonderful!
She has asked for Skolian asylum. Kelric is expediting the process.
At least some good came out of this.
Mac was watching them, waiting. When Del met his gaze, the older man spoke quietly. "We should go."
"All right. " Del turned to Ricki, uncertain what to do with her icy hostility. "Would you—you could wait for me. Here."
"I have to go to work," she said, as distant as if they were kilometers apart. "Deal with the mess from last night."
Del winced. "I guess Prime-Nova won't be offering me a new contract." After so many struggles to climb his way to the top, he had lost it all in one day.
Her chill thawed a bit. "I'm sorry, babe." She started to reach for him, then glanced at Chaniece. Her expression cooled and she dropped her arm.
Del didn't know what to say. He never knew how to tell a lover about Chaniece, so he ended up saying nothing, afraid of offending someone. He also felt Ricki's conviction that she would soon lose him back to his world. He didn't want this distance that separated them.
Something loosened in Del, a rusty lock on his emotions. Taking Ricki's hand, he drew her forward. "I'll see you tonight?"
She remained stiff in his arms. "I'm sure you'll be busy."
He leaned down and kissed her ear. "She's my sister, love."
"Oh!" Ricki drew away, her face startled. "Oh."
Del stroked her hair back from her face. "I'll comm you tonight?"
She started to respond, stopped, then said, "Zachary will be asking about you."
"You can tell him who I am. Last night blew off the cover." He kissed her again, hoping it wasn't the last time.
Then he left with Mac and Chaniece, headed for what felt like sentencing.
The techs fastened Mac into a virt suit, which linked him to the Kyle gateway provided by the Skolians. And just like that, he was standing in the virtual conference room. It had no furniture except gold chairs at a gold table on transparent columns.
Fitz McLane appeared next to Mac, by a chair at the table. He stood tall and broad-shouldered in his dress uniform, every bit a five-star general, the only one among the Allied military.
Across the table, one person rippled into view: General Naaj Majda. They had all agreed to the Harrison Protocols, which meant they didn't alter their appearances. Majda was an unusually tall woman with a regal face. Black hair streaked by grey swept back from her forehead, and the force of her personality came through even in a simulation. It was hard to believe Del had almost been betrothed to this woman's sister. Then again, if Del had worked the same spells on her that he did on most women, he could have turned even one of these formidable Amazons into putty.
A voice announced them by name. Mac heard it in English, but translator codes would give it in Iotic for the Skolians. They nodded to one another and took their seats, Fitz and Mac on one side and Majda on the other.
The air blurred near the end of the table and coalesced into two people. Del and Chaniece. They stood side by side, luminous and golden, oblivious to their own beauty, and everyone else in the room became drab in comparison. Across the table, their mother appeared, as golden as her children.
The EI spoke: "Her Majesty, Roca Skolia, Foreign Affairs Councilor to the Assembly; His Royal Highness, Prince Del-Kurj Valdoria Skolia; Her Royal Highness, Princess Chaniece Lyhalia Valdoria Skolia."
Mac, Fitz, and the Majda general each bowed, first to Roca, then to Del and Chaniece. One change in the protocols puzzled Mac. Roca was a "majesty" rather than "highness" because she had married a man her people considered a king. She was also heir to the Ruby Throne, which made her a "highness." That title actually carried far more weight, yet the EI had used the lesser form of address.
A monolith of dark gold light formed across the table—and then Kelric stood there, huge, massive, his gaze impassive, his face unreadable. His metallic skin caught glints of light. Grey streaked his gold hair and lines creased his face around his eyes. Although he had similar features to his mother and siblings
, he was as hard as they were beautiful. It was surreal to Mac that this man had once been Del's baby brother.
The EI said, simply, "Imperator Skolia." No dynastic titles, nothing else. He needed nothing more.
The final three people appeared together: Hannah Loughten, President of the Allied Worlds; Barcala Tikal, First Councilor of the Skolian Assembly; and Dyhianna Selei, the Ruby Pharaoh. Loughten was a lean woman with dark hair turning silver at the temples. Barcala Tikal was her male counterpart, even down to his greying temples.
The Ruby Pharaoh mesmerized Mac. Among all these formidable leaders, she was small and fine-boned. Her long hair was swept up on her head, but black tendrils had escaped to curl around her face. Her eyes were unusually large, making her seem fragile. Mac wasn't fooled. This was the powerhouse who had overthrown one of the most bellicose empires in human history—her own—and then handed the conquered government half their power back, giving Imperial Skolia both elected and dynastic leaders. The Skolians clearly had no objection to the pharaoh retaking her throne. Skolia had called itself an Imperialate even when only the elected Assembly governed. The dynastic roots of the empire went deep in their cultural memory.
The leaders took their seats, the Skolian pharaoh and first councilor on one side, the Allied president on the other. Then everyone else sat. Mac doubted anyone missed the unequal balance of power: two Skolian leaders facing a single president who presided over a civilization one third the size of their empire, with both the Imperator and Skolian General of the Army facing a solitary Fitz McLane. Mac had never figured out if Skolians deliberately set out to intimidate or if it was just so ingrained in their psychology that they did it on instinct.
However, Mac also didn't miss that Del had sat on the Allied side of the table. Interesting. He wondered if Del even realized what he had done.
Hannah Loughten, the Allied president, spoke to the pharaoh and first councilor. "We are met to discuss Prince Del-Kurj's concert last night. Let me begin by extending our deepest apologies for any difficulties that may have arisen between your people and the Eubian Traders as a result."
The Ruby Pharaoh inclined her head, acknowledging the apology, though it was unclear whether or not she was accepting it.
Councilor Tikal spoke dryly. "It was certainly a surprise."
Fitz McLane didn't waste time circling around the subject. "How did the Traders take it?"
"Badly," Tikal said. "They want a guarantee the song won't be produced or spread." He met the general's gaze squarely. "However, many of our people feel just the opposite. Pressure to distribute it as widely as possible is coming from powerful sectors of our populace."
"And your people?" the Ruby Pharaoh asked Loughten. "We aren't getting a clear reading of their reaction from your meshes."
"I don't think anyone knows how to react," Loughten said. "Mainly people want to know who Del is."
"People think 'Del Arden' is an Allied citizen," Kelric rumbled. "But the Traders have dossiers on all my family, including Prince Del-Kurj. They've made the logical conclusion."
The pharaoh spoke wryly. "However, Del sang here, during a celebration of your people's independence. It's confused everyone."
Loughten let out a breath, just the barest indication of the strain she must surely feel. "Emperor Qox has asked if we're changing our neutral stance to an alliance with your people." Her gaze never wavered as she regarded the Skolians. "I've told him we have changed nothing. Our stance remains the same."
Pharaoh Dyhianna spoke. "It was never the intent of the Ruby Dynasty to put your government in such a sensitive position."
Fitz McLane leaned forward, his eyes blazing. "Then help us deal with the impact of that song."
"We've told the Traders we'll limit it as best we can," Loughten said. "Your help on the Skolian meshes would further establish that it wasn't meant as a declaration of hostilities toward the Traders by either of our governments."
Kelric spoke coldly. "You want us to help you suppress my brother's words."
Mac shifted in his seat. If Imperator Skolia took a hard line on this, it could leave Earth vulnerable to retaliation by the Traders.
President Loughten didn't back down. "We're asking for your help in minimizing the damage done by a member of your family to our relations with the Eubian government."
Roca spoke. "If you want a declaration from the Ruby Dynasty that my son's performance represents his own opinions and only that, we will provide that statement."
"If you want us to do more," Kelric said, "you'll have to convince some strong opposition." He nodded to Naaj Majda, and the general inclined her head, acknowledging his signal.
"Prince Del-Kurj gave powerful voice to our people's anger," Majda said. "We live with Trader brutality beyond anything your people have experienced." She spoke with an undertone of steel. "The Traders want Del's work silenced because it exposes the lie in the false image they present to you."
Kelric leaned forward. "The inhumanity Del sang about—our forces went up against it every day. They lived that nightmare, President Loughten. Millions died. I see no reason why we should help suppress that truth."
Loughten regarded him steadily. "To keep hostilities from growing worse."
Del was listening intently, his gaze going back and forth between the speakers. But he said nothing. Mac didn't recall ever having seen him so calm in such a tense situation, particularly when it was about him. If Chaniece always had this effect on him, it was no wonder the family had sent her to Earth.
Mac had to speak, though. "Realistically, we can't contain the song. It's everywhere. What's out can't be put back."
"Perhaps," Pharaoh Dyhianna said. Her voice had a distant quality, as if she didn't exist fully in the same space as the rest of them. "Perhaps not."
A chill went through Mac. People called Dyhianna Selei the Shadow Pharaoh for good reason. Supposedly the name came from the way she avoided public appearances, but Mac knew otherwise from his Air Force contacts. Her ability to create and manipulate the interstellar meshes was unmatched and mostly unseen. He doubted anyone knew the full extent of her ability.
"If you could contain the music, would you?" Loughten asked.
The pharaoh considered her. Then she turned to Del. "It's your song. What do you think we should do with it?"
Del regarded her like a startled deer. He obviously hadn't expected anyone to ask his opinion. But he was the unknown, and the key to everything. If he refused to stop singing "Carnelians," or even just let his fans know why it had become so hard to find, nothing would contain that song.
"I can't suppress my own work," Del said.
Fitz leaned forward with the tension he always showed around Del. "Does that mean you'll work against our attempts to limit it?"
Del hesitated. It was a long moment before he answered. Finally he said, "Not if the Traders agree to a condition."
Kelric was watching his brother with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. Mac wondered if the Imperator realized he reacted to Del with more emotion than he showed anyone else.
"What condition?" Kelric asked.
Del took a breath. "That their emperor arranges the release of a Skolian woman who was sold as a provider."
Mac blinked. What the hell?
Kelric, however, didn't look at all surprised. "Jaibriol Qox. He may not know how to find her."
"Qox is the bloody emperor," Del growled. "He can find her."
"I'm glad you both know what you're talking about," Councilor Tikal said dryly. "Maybe you'd enlighten the rest of us?"
The pharaoh spoke. "I think they mean Staver Aunchild's wife."
"Lord Tarex claims Staver Aunchild kidnapped his provider," Fitz said. "No one can find her. Is she his wife?"
Mac tensed. Staver's wife was a provider? No wonder the Skolian exec had reacted so violently against the Aristos.
Kelric shook his head. "Tarex's provider has no connection to Staver. Tarex is using Staver as a scapegoat."
"Staver and Del," Mac said. Tarex had claimed he invited Staver Aunchild onto his yacht to discuss business and that Del caused Staver's injuries. But every doctor who treated Staver verified that he had taken all those wounds long before Del was on the yacht. It enraged Mac that the Aristo blamed his brutality on Del, another of his victims.
"Tarex is obviously lying about Del," Fitz said. "The police dropped the charges without even knowing Del has diplomatic immunity."
President Loughten spoke firmly. "The question of Prince Del-Kurj's presence on Earth remains."
"I've sent a squadron to escort Del home," Kelric said.
Loughten paused for a moment. Then she spoke again. "If His Highness agrees to help us lessen the impact of his song, we won't ask for his deportation or revoke his license to work here."
Whoa. Mac hadn't seen that coming. From the way Del's eyes widened, he hadn't, either. It wouldn't work, though. Del's family would pull him home regardless.
Kelric started to speak, then stopped when the pharaoh glanced at him. Nothing else visible passed between them, but Mac suspected they were communicating in some other way. Roca was sitting unusually still, as if she were also in the loop.
After a moment, Roca spoke to President Loughten. "We will discuss the matter with Prince Del-Kurj."
Del grimaced, though the look quickly vanished, undoubtedly edited out by his EI. Chaniece laid her hand on his arm, and he took a breath.
The meeting continued as they decided how to respond to the Traders. Mac wasn't sure what was up with the Skolians. They acted as if they didn't intend to help, but his gut instinct said they were bargaining. It didn't feel that different from negotiating a contract, except a great deal more was at stake than music vids. And gradually he realized what they were "bargaining" for. They wanted the Allieds to listen to the song. Just listen.
The Skolians finally agreed to help control the spread of the song among their own people if the Traders accepted Del's condition about the provider. But they declined to help limit his song among the Allied Worlds. Although they claimed it was an Allied affair, it didn't fool Mac. They knew the power Del had unleashed. The raw, pure force of the "Carnelians Finale" would affect people far more than any speech from the Skolians.