The drum continued to beat.
Warmer.
Jeejon’s hold on his arm tightened. Whatever was going on, she didn’t understand. The other people in the room were bewildered. Their agitation became so strong, he picked up brief images from their minds. He glimpsed himself, standing tall and silent by the door, his hand clenched on Jeejon’s arm, his gaze directed at no one, his hair shimmering gold, streaked with gray, his unseeing eyes pure gold, his skin gleaming gold in the light. No trace of the tattoo job remained.
The drum in his mind kept up its beat. It filled him like a sun. Filled him until he glowed. Glowed.
And then recognition came.
He understood. It wasn’t a drum.
It was a heartbeat.
The heart of the sun.
Kelric had already turned to the door before he even realized what he was doing. He stepped out of the office, holding on to the doorframe for balance. Jeejon came with him, but she didn’t try to stop him. The others also followed. They seemed unsure what to do. Stunned. Why? Why?
As the intensity of their focus increased, he glimpsed what one of them saw. Himself. He had just entered a short hallway. The entrance to a lobby stood only a few paces ahead, its door open, revealing the big room beyond. He could see across the lobby to a huge set of double doors that looked as if they might open to the outside, possibly onto the grounds of the AUC itself. The view was too blurred for him to pick up much, but he saw those doors.
The image faded, but Kelric kept moving. Gripping the wall for support, he limped toward the lobby. When he reached the entrance, he hung on to the doorframe, staring sightlessly toward the double doors. He wanted to go farther, but if he let go of his support, he feared he would fall.
The sun in his mind blazed.
He knew when the doors opened. Even if the image hadn’t burst with vivid clarity into the minds of everyone around him, he still would have known.
Yes, he would have known.
Reflected from the minds of every person with him, he saw the doors across the lobby swing open. It was dark outside, but lamps glowed on the wooden porch. A woman stood silhouetted against their light.
A hip-length mane of spectacular gold hair blew back from her body in the wind. She was wearing an ankle-length night robe and beneath that a nightdress that fell in classical ivory drapes to her ankles. Her eyes, skin, hair, even her eyelashes—all shimmered gold. Tall and statuesque, like the realization of an ancient goddess in human form, or an angel come to Earth, she stood framed in the doorway, impossibly beautiful.
AUC soldiers surrounded her. Light glinted off their EM pulse rifles. They held the weapons awkwardly, as if unsure what to do with them while they escorted this glorious apparition. The woman held the doors wide open with both hands, gazing across the lobby at Kelric.
He took a step into the lobby, losing his grip on the doorframe. That was when the woman let go of the doors. She ran across the lobby, tears streaming down her golden face. The soldiers came as well, but no one tried to stop her. She called out, her lips forming Kelric’s name. Her heartbeat filled him, steady and strong, thrumming with life, heritage, blood. Her sunlight filled his mind.
They met in the center of the lobby. He took her into his arms, as astonished as always to find himself so much taller than she. She held him tight, her head against his shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt. He was crying too, but he didn’t care. The tears rolled down his cheeks, free and clear.
Hoshma, he thought. I’ve come home.
His mother’s stunned, astonished, overjoyed welcome filled his mind.
27
Heritage
Darkness.
Silence.
System End
Restart
“Imperator Skolia?” The woman’s craggy voice came again, in Iotic, quietly insistent. Kelric absorbed the words.
Words?
Yes, words.
“He still isn’t responding,” a man said.
“Wait.” That came from another man. “I’m getting a spike in his brain activity.”
“Lord Skolia,” the woman said. “Can you hear us?”
Yes, Kelric thought. He wanted to shout the words from every mountain on the planet. Barring hallelujahs, a whisper would have sufficed. He couldn’t seem to manage even that, though.
He was lying on a bed. His eyelids felt heavy. He had on soft trousers, probably pajamas. Oddly enough, he still wore his gauntlets.
Bolt? he thought. Can you talk?
“Yes,” Bolt said.
The woman made an exultant sound. “He spoke!”
One of the men said, “It came from his arm.”
There was a silence. Then the other man said, “His arm?”
“The comm in the apparatus he’s wearing.”
Another silence. The woman said, “Imperator Skolia, can you hear me?”
Bolt, tell them I can hear. He felt like grinning, but his smile muscles weren’t responding either.
“Yes, he can hear you,” Bolt said.
“He?” one of the men asked.
Identify yourself, Kelric thought.
“I’m Bolt,” the node said. “The node implanted in his body. I’ve linked to the comm in his gauntlets.”
“Good Lord,” one of the men said.
“Why can’t we get the gauntlets off him?” the woman asked.
Good question, Kelric thought.
“We don’t know,” Bolt said.
“We?” she asked.
“Imperator Skolia and me.”
“Ah.” She paused. “Lord Skolia, we’re going to remove the gel from your eyes.”
Ask what that means. Kelric thought.
“What does that mean?” Bolt asked.
“We worked on your optic nerves,” one of the men said. “The gel packs protected your eyes while you healed.”
“Will he be able to see?” Bolt asked, anticipating Kelric’s question.
“We don’t know,” the other man said.
Fingertips brushed Kelric temples. He lay still while one of the doctors loosened something on his face. The pressure on his eyelids eased, then went away. He tried opening his eyes, but his lids remained closed.
“Can’t see,” he whispered.
“That was him,” one of the men said.
The woman spoke gently. “It needs time.”
Kelric wet his lips. “My parents …”
“They’ve been here almost continuously,” she said.
“Here?”
“In the AUC hospital.”
“How long?”
In the same gentle voice she said, “Three weeks.”
Three weeks? If he remembered his Allied time measures right, that meant twenty-one days. So long.
She massaged the corner of his eye with her fingertip. “We’ve done a great deal of work. That’s why you were down for three weeks. We also arranged with your government for a team of biomech specialists to come here.”
Softly he said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She massaged his other eyelid.
For a while he simply lay, enjoying the fact that he was alive. Then he said, “Where … Jeejon?”
“With your parents.” The woman checked his eyes again. “Can you open them now?”
Slowly he raised his eyelids. The blackness around him lightened a bit.
“How is it?” a man asked from the other side of the bed.
“Gray,” Kelric answered.
“That’s good,” he said. “It means you’re detecting light.”
“More … than light.” The outline of a head was becoming visible. It was a doctor standing by his bed. She had weathered features and a cap of snowy hair.
This time Kelric did manage a smile. “Doctor … you’re a vision.”
She gave a good-natured snort. “I’m an old workhorse.” Then she added, “You’re going to make it, Imperator Skolia.”
Momentarily left alone by his stream of doc
tors, Kelric reclined in his hospital bed, sitting up comfortably. Half asleep, warm, and without pain, he was content.
Apparently during the past three weeks, the doctors had kept him “turned off” while they made repairs. Today they turned him back on. Now his body had to reintegrate its new systems. With so much new biomech, he expected to feel like a machine. He didn’t, though. He felt more human than he had in a long time.
He became aware of a change. Blinking, he opened his eyes.
His new optical systems focused. A man was standing by his bed. Wine-red hair brushed his shoulders. He wore gold-rimmed spectacles, a choice he made because he had never been comfortable with the glittering medical technology of his wife’s universe. His eyes were the same dark violet as those of Kelric’s Coban son. At five foot ten, this man was shorter than most of his towering sons. Freckles dusted his nose. More silver showed in his hair than Kelric remembered, and more lines around his eyes.
The man smiled. “My greetings.”
Kelric’s voice caught. “It’s good to see you, Hoshpa.”
Moisture glimmered in his father’s eyes. “And you, Kellie.” He reddened. “Kelric, I mean.”
Kelric smiled at the boyhood name. He doubted his parents would ever really lose the habit of using it. He and his father reached for each other at the same time. Closing his eyes, Kelric embraced the aging bard. This AUC might not be any place he had known before, but with his family here, it was home.
Eldrinson gave an odd, strangled gasp. Mortified, Kelric let him go. Just what his father needed, to be crushed by his long lost son.
Eldrinson laughed. “You always were the strong one.” His smile faded. “After your Jag was lost—your mother and I, we always hoped. But there seemed no chance you were alive.” He slid his hand across his cheek, under his spectacles, wiping away a tear. “Yet here you are.”
Something inside Kelric released, like ice melting. For all that Eldrinson Althor Valdoria, the Key to the Web, presented a reserved demeanor to the rest of humanity, with his family he had never hidden his feelings. Both his parents were that way, and many of his siblings. The balm of their warmth healed his loneliness.
Sometime, somewhere, he and his parents had switched roles. He had become the protector, the Jagernaut, the warrior. Now, as Imperator, that shift was complete. But though he might be the bulwark, he would always treasure the haven of their love.
“You’ve a nephew now,” his father said. “Ami’s son.”
“Ami?”
“Kurj’s widow.”
“Kurj married?” That surprised him. Although his half brother had taken many lovers, he had never shown interest in marriage. Kelric spoke carefully, knowing his room had to be monitored by the hospital staff, Allied military intelligence, and probably ISC spies as well. “And Majda?”
In a reserved voice his father said, “General Majda sends her salutations and joy at your return.”
But? Kelric thought.
Eldrinson jerked as if he had been shoved by a great, ragged power.
Gods, Kelric thought. Had he done that?
It is all right His father’s thought flowed like a serene river, deep and sure, power without undue force. Is Naaj Majda trusty pleased at your return? I can’t say. The ties between the Ruby Dynasty arui Majda have always been strong. But still. I am glad you are here, rather than there. Better you face ISC with all your strength.
So. He had made the right decision. He smiled, wondering what Jeejon thought now about his tale of the bumbling Ruby prince.
His father winced, then rubbed his temple. Kelric’s good humor faded. Would he damage the Triad? His mind was full of jagged, injured edges. Already his father was fatiguing under the onslaught.
I’m fine, Eldrinson thought.
I don’t want to hurt you or Dehya, Kelric answered.
You won’t. Your mind is much like Kurj’s and he fit well in the Triad. You just need time to heal. Then he stopped, puzzled. You said Dehya?
I reached her in the Lock. She’s in there somehow.
I, too, have thought she fives. How and where, I can’t say.
Nor I.
I’ve said nothing to the Allieds. Better they don’t know another of us may be free.
Kelric nodded. Yes.
Eldrinson glanced at Kelric’s neck. “I’m sorry your doctors haven’t been able to remove the collar yet.”
Kelric touched the gold band. “Do you know why?”
“Its systems are too intertwined with your biomech. It would injure you if they just pulled it out. They have to operate, to unravel its picotech from yours.”
It didn’t surprise him. He brushed his fingers over one of his gauntlets. “And these?”
Dryly his father said, “Those apparently don’t wish to come off. They shock anyone who tries to touch them.”
Kelric blinked. “They almost seem alive.”
His father nodded. “They have some kind of ancient AI. How did you get them?”
“In the Lock. The drawer in the console. Didn’t you know?”
His father shook his head. “I never saw a drawer.”
Kelric wasn’t sure how he had known it existed. No sign of it showed in the console. He suspected the gauntlets had their own mind, an ancient EI unlike any they used now, one that may have lain quiescent for millennia.
“I’ve taken them off,” he said. “So has Jeejon.” They had wanted his permission before they let her remove them, through.
“Jeejon? You mean your friend from Spikedown?”
“Yes.” Kelric leaned forward. “Is she here?”
His father watched him with that gaze of his that had always seen more than Kelric intended to reveal. Gently he said, “She and your mother are outside. The doctors would only let one of us see you at a time.”
So Jeejon was all right. He exhaled, settling back in bed.
“She told us how you met,” Eldrinson said. “Gods know how you survived all those years.”
At first Kelric didn’t know what he meant. Then he realized they all must have assumed he had been a Trader slave these past eighteen years. If he told him it wasn’t true, he would have to explain, which would jeopardize Ixpar and his children. He couldn’t lie, though, not to his father.
He hesitated, wanting a private communication but fearing to injure Eldrinson’s mind.
Son, I’m fine.
Kelric reddened. His father had been in the Triad for decades. He was well able to judge what his mind could handle.
She didn’t transcend, he thought.
She? his father asked.
Tarquine Iquar. The Aristo who bought me.
Eldrinson stiffened. No one “owns” my son.
Well, yes. Dryly Kelric thought, felt that way too.
I didn’t know it was possible for them to stop transcending.
She had part of her brain taken out.
His father stared at him. What?
Her KAB. She had it removed. So she wouldn’t be tempted.
I’m surprised the other Aristos haven’t destroyed her. Don’t they consider that an aberration?
They don’t know. Regarding his father steadily, Kelric added, I don’t want them to know, either. Or anyone.
Eldrinson gave him a long, appraising look. Kelric met his gaze. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Tarquine, but he knew his father would see past any smoke screen he tried to create. So he said nothing.
Finally Eldrinson thought, Why don’t you want anyone to know?
I can negotiate with her. Kelric rubbed his chin. We’ve been dealing with them all wrong. There are better ways. I need to think on it more. I believe we might find our way to a treaty, especially now that the Lock is dead.
Deactivated.
Kelric raised his eyebrows.
A slight smile quirked Eldrinson’s mouth. Yes, I know that trick. He gave Kelric another of his looks. I do believe you can do it.
It?
Deal with the Hightons.
 
; Kelric swallowed, gratified by such an expression of confidence from one of the people whose opinion he most valued.
He wondered what the various spies monitoring his room thought about this silence. He and his father were watching each other, running through a gamut of facial expressions and gestures. It was obvious they were having a conversation. How did one monitor telepaths? With other telepaths, of course. However, none was as powerful as the Ruby Dynasty. So none could penetrate the barriers he and his father raised around their psilink. No way to eavesdrop. Tough luck, he thought to the unseen spies.
Eldrinson smiled. Tough indeed. Watching Kelric, he added, That is astounding about the Finance Minister.
Yes. Kelric still found it hard to believe.
Are more of them like that?
I wondered about Emperor Qox.
Eldrinson went very still. Why?
I met him. He was in the Lock when I joined the Triad. A way existed to verify at least part of what Jaibriol had told him. He claims the Allieds traded him for Eldrin.
It’s true.
Kelric stared at him. Eldrin is free?
Yes. Or not free, but in Allied custody on the planet Delos. They will bring him here.
That’s good. Incredible.
Yes. It is. Eldrinson’s simple words, so calmly given, held a world of emotion. In a matter of days, he had regained two children he had thought lost to war. Quietly he thought, It is very good.
Kelric felt his eyes grow hot. Better to change the subject, or he might embarrass himself by shedding tears.
What else happened? his father asked.
Qox let me go.
Why?
He claims he wants to meet at the peace table.
But you doubt him.
He is Qox.
Maybe this one is different.
Kelric wondered about his father. What did he see? I did have an odd sense of him.
Odd how?
Kelric wasn’t sure yet he wanted to reveal his suspicion that Jaibriol III was a psion. Instead he thought, He told me to talk to Seth Rockworth.
Eldrinson exhaled. I’m afraid you will have trouble doing that. Admiral Rockworth has been in military custody since Jaibriol III ascended his throne. The boy had been living in Rockworth’s home as a refugee.