“Jon Casestar never deviates from established procedure,” Ragnar said, actually agreeing with Eldrin for once. “You have to decide, Dehya. Remove him or forget about going to Earth without Assembly approval.”
“Jon came to Delos.” I continued to pace, lost in thought.
“For Delos, you weren’t suggesting a hostile raid on a major power,” Vazar said. “Hell, Dehya, if we move on Earth, we could end up at war with the Allieds and the Traders at the same time.”
“We won’t.” I sorted through models in my mind. “With their Lock deactivated, the Traders can’t make a psiberweb.”
It wasn’t until everyone had been quiet for a while that I realized they were all giving me that odd look again. I stopped pacing. “What?”
Ragnar quirked his eyebrow. “How can you know their Lock is off?”
“I’m a Triad member.”
Eldrin was watching me thoughtfully. “Did you pick up something about Kelric and the Lock when we looked for Taquinil?”
“I’m not sure.” I sifted through my memories. “The loss of the web is such a big difference, it swamps out everything else.” I turned to Vazar. “You say you speak for General Majda.”
She met my gaze squarely. “If you’re asking me to override Jon Casestar, I think it is unwise.”
“You supported coming to Delos.”
“It was a good idea.” As she glanced at Eldrin, her intractable posture softened. “An excellent idea.” To us both, she said, “I believe General Majda would have agreed. But this is different.”
General Majda. Not Naaj. When Vazar called her cousin by her formal title, she meant business. I did notice, however, that she said “General” rather than “Imperator.”
The console behind Ragnar beeped.
“Laplace, who is it?” I asked.
“Admiral Casestar,” my El answered.
“Put him through.”
After a pause, Jon spoke. “My greetings, Pharaoh Dyhianna.”
“Admiral.” I kept my voice neutral. “What can I do for you?”
“I would like to speak with you in private.”
Ragnar narrowed his gaze. Eldrin came forward, standing at my side as if to offer protection against Jon’s request.
What was Jon up to? He tended to be more direct than Ragnar, also more conservative. Although he didn’t enjoy politics, he was perfectly capable of playing them. If he wanted me in custody, to stop me from stirring up trouble, he could have sent his soldiers here for me. On his ship, in his domain, in space, I had few options to resist. Requesting that I come to his quarters could be a diplomatic way of achieving the same end, one less humiliating for me than having armed guards take me from my quarters. Or maybe he wanted to offer support, but not as openly as Ragnar, in front of witnesses. I doubted it, though. More likely, he wanted to continue our discussion without so many high-ranking people listening.
I had my own security running now, shrouding my suite from his monitors, but he had to know I had people in here. Witnesses. That he had made his request in front of them was a reasonably positive sign. Then again, given my prominence on his ship, it would be impossible for him to keep it secret if I suddenly disappeared. He might see no point in being covert about our meeting.
Don’t go atone, Eldrin thought.
I turned and ran my knuckles down his arm, considering my options.
Then I went to the console, stepping past Ragnar, who was studying us with a laser-like intensity. Leaning over the console, I said, “Admiral Casestar, Prince Eldrin and I will meet with you.”
Jon’s suite resembled mine, except with sharper lines. The furnishings were glass Luminex, and leather upholstery. Holos with vivid, detailed depictions of ancient battles paneled the walls.
When Eldrin and I entered the living room, Jon gave Eldrin an appraising stare. He made no attempt to hide his displeasure that I hadn’t come alone.
Eldrin spoke flatly. “I’m not leaving her alone with you, Admiral.”
His bluntness startled me. It wasn’t typical of Eldrin, but he had a point. If I forced the issue of Earth, Jon would have to choose: Ruby Dynasty or Assembly. His answer would have greater ramifications than one mission. Ragnar had already offered me his support. If Jon did as well, I would have backing from two of the Reefs most powerful commanders. Given that the Fleet was the largest branch of ISC, it would give me a large portion of the military. Naaj Majda would then be the deciding factor: if she pledged her loyalty, the Assembly was history. But if Naaj supported the Assembly, it would sunder ISC in two, with the Pharaoh’s Army in opposition to the Pharaoh.
Jon regarded Eldrin with a neutral expression. “I intend no harm to your wife, Prince Eldrin.” He motioned to a white air-sofa that curved around an oval table made from glossy black Luminex. “Please, be comfortable.”
We sat stiffly, none of us the least bit comfortable. Jon’s mood leaked past his defenses: he hadn’t asked Eldrin to accompany me here because he feared Eldrin posed a threat to me. He wondered if the Traders had tampered with Eldrin’s mind, planting a psychological bomb that could turn him into a weapon.
My throat felt tight. I resisted believing the Traders could have changed Eldrin at that basic a level without my detecting any hint of it. I didn’t know if Jon genuinely believed otherwise or if he had let that thought leak deliberately, to undermine my confidence in my husband. Although it did make me think, it made me fear for Eldrin rather than myself. If I suddenly became widowed, it offered a prime opportunity to whoever supported me. Such machinations were Ragnar’s style rather than Jon’s, but I could be sure of no one. More than once during the Ruby Empire, a military leader had gained power by marrying a member of the Ruby Dynasty who had lost a spouse. In those cases, the military leader had been a woman who wed the surviving husband of a dead Pharaoh. I doubted the ancient Ruby matriarchs could even have envisioned this situation.
Pain throbbed in my head. Dropping out of accelerated mode, I realized Jon had only paused for a second. He continued, cautiously neutral. “I have to decide what to write in my report for HQ regarding your proposal about Earth.”
So. He hadn’t sent a report yet Interesting. “We need to act now. We can’t wait for HQ to respond, especially if we want Taquinil’s help.”
“Neither you nor Prince Taquinil is trained for such work.” Jon hesitated. “Prince Taquinil isn’t even alive. Exactly.”
“Jon, we can do this.” I knew he wouldn’t be impressed by assurances he thought were unrealistic. “My calculations only give probabilities,” I acknowledged. “But they’re good ones. We have a good chance to pull this off.”
Jon sat back, his face pensive. “I served under Kurj Skolia for almost twenty years and Sauscony Valdoria for two. Both were leaders of vision. I was honored to give them my loyalty.”
I held my breath. He could go either way, adding a “But much to my regret…” or an “And so I continue…”
He did neither. Instead he said, “We have no proof of Primary Majda’s claim that Imperator Majda gave her authority to make decisions in her absence, but it also seems an unlikely lie.”
I didn’t miss the title he gave Naaj. My voice cooled. “Neither Primary Majda nor General Majda speak for the Ruby Dynasty.”
“Were Imperators Kurj Skolia or Sauscony Valdoria still alive, they would consult with you on this decision about Earth.” He didn’t make it a question.
“That’s right.”
“You aren’t currently available to consult with Imperator Majda.”
I didn’t like where he was going with this. “And?”
“Primary Majda claims to speak for the Imperator. And she has reservations about taking any ships to Earth.”
Pah. He was lying; that came through despite his defenses. Vazar hadn’t told him about her doubts. The more Jon and I talked, the more certain I became that he intended this as prelude to putting me in custody. Given that Eldrin had come with me, he would probably lock us both up.
r /> My impression also, Eldrin thought.
He hasn’t committed himself yes.
True. But it isn’t promising
I considered Jon. “So you asked us here to discuss Primary Majda’s reservations?” I could call his bluff by telling him Vazar agreed with my idea, but he might call my bluff and really ask Vazar. She would tell him exactly what he wanted to hear.
“I’m concerned about your safety,” Jon hedged.
“On your own ship?” Eldrin asked. To me, he thought, Here it comes.
“These are difficult times,” Jon said. “My loyalty to your family demands I ensure that conflicting loyalties endanger neither you nor the Imperialate.”
Right. Lock me up for my own good. I wondered at his use of Imperialate, though. The word had become controversial; the Assembly consisted primarily of elected representatives, whereas Imperial implied a hereditary power base. The Ruby Dynasty.
Some felt that calling ourselves an Imperialate was tantamount to agreeing with the Allied detractors who dubbed us “imperialistic warmongers.” The Allied Worlds had the only truly elected governments. The Traders practiced tyranny; they could call themselves benevolent all they wanted and it wouldn’t change the fact that they enslaved over a trillion people. Both we and the Allieds believed all humans had the right to freedom. Given the way ISC occupied planets, though, Skolia had a ways to go before we reached that ideal. As long as we and the Traders kept fighting each other, we left the Allieds alone. But if one side ever won a decisive victory, the Allieds knew the winners would come after them next. Now they had a chance to neutralize us when both sides were weakened.
I dropped into normal-speed thought, but I wondered if it was the accelerated mode that made my head ache this time. In my more honest moments, I had to admit the galaxy would probably be a far more peaceful place if the Allied Worlds were in charge.
Amusement came from Eldrin. If you really want to shock the Assembly, tell them that.
Hah. Not a chance. To Jon, I said, “I value your loyalty immensely. Your support would mean a great deal.”
His control eased, revealing the depth of his concern. “Then I entreat you, Your Highness. Don’t split loyalties within the Imperialate. This is the time we can least afford such rifts.”
“The rifts already exist,” Eldrin said. “We must make the best of the situation.”
Jon glanced at him. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”
I spoke quietly. “Then we must retrieve my family from Earth.”
“I wish I could agree with you.” Reaching forward, he touched a panel in the table. “But I’m afraid I can’t.”
A door whispered open elsewhere in the suite, followed by the tread of booted feet. Damn. Even knowing that Jon probably wouldn’t back us, it still came as a disappointment.
They’ve never given us freedom, Eldrin thought tiredly. This just makes it explicit.
The soldiers entered like fog: gray uniforms, gray boots, gray eyes, gray gauntlets threaded with glittering conduits. We all stood up as they surrounded the sofa. I didn’t know how my expression looked, but when I turned to Jon, he had the decency to appear ill-at-ease. I spoke with deceptive softness. “I would never have expected a betrayal from you.”
For all his disquiet, he showed no sign of relenting. “I regret that you see this as a betrayal, Your Highness. But I must do what I believe is best for the Skolian Imperialate.”
Imperialate again. It sounded incongruous from him, given that he had just implicitly pledged his loyalty to the Assembly.
It is the name of our civilization, Eldrin pointed out. Jon does everything by the rules.
The guards escorted us out of the suite and along empty, secured corridors. Our trek ended at an entrance hidden deep within a maze of tunnels. The suite beyond had soft carpets. Gilded furniture. Soothing holo-panels on the walls. Blue. Gold. Crystal. Genuine wood. Amazing that they could provide such plush quarters on a battle cruiser.
But making the brig attractive made it no less a prison.
20
Interlude
Eldrin paced the living room, restless and edgy. Despite his mental shields, I could tell this reminded him of being a Trader captive. Again I wondered if they had tampered with his mind. What better way to reach the Ruby Pharaoh than to sabotage the one person she was willing to trust?
Eldrin froze and stared at me. I would never hurt you.
I know.
Do you? Do I? He pushed his hand through his hair. I’ve no guarantee you’re any safer with me than with anyone else.
I don’t believe you would do anything.
That’s your heart speaking. Not your intellect.
Sometimes the heart knows more.
I hope you’re right. He looked around the elegant room. “You can’t even see the spy monitors.”
We both knew security would be monitoring everything we did. I smiled wryly. “I hope we’re entertaining.”
Can you do anything about them?
Maybe. I sat at a console near the wall. Then I went to work.
First I dumped the security blocks Jon’s people had put on the console to stop me from using it. They could have removed the console and it would have done no good; with computers ingrained in everything we used, even ourselves, no way existed to cut off an experienced telop from a ship’s networks.
Within an hour I had infiltrated the security that guarded the suite. Although it was well set-up, I managed to turn off the monitors. But I didn’t believe it; Jon knew what I could do. They had created this “security” as camouflage for the real systems.
It took the rest of the night for me to find the real monitors. They had systems watching us I had never even heard of. Jon’s security people had done a superb job. Fortunately, it wasn’t good enough.
Eldrin slept a few hours, then returned to the living room. He leaned on the back of the console, facing me, his arms folded on a ledge that jutted up to chest height. As he watched me work, he spoke musingly. “On Lyshriol, we didn’t have these consoles in every room. When I was young, our only computers were in a console room my mother had installed in my father’s castle, and those in the school.” He grimaced. “I didn’t like them then.”
“Then?” I looked up. “I didn’t know you ever started liking them.”
“Ah, well.” He gave me a rueful smile. “One gets used to how easy all this tech makes our lives.”
“But some things it can never replace.” I stood up and stretched, long and languorously, working the kinks out of my back. Then I went around to him and put my arms around his waist.
He drew me close. Do we have privacy now?
It should be all right. I have the spy monitors running a fake program of us in bed sleeping. I continue to mindspeak, just in case. I couldn’t finagle a direct line to anyone outside, but at least we have privacy.
And I did manage to send some hidden messages to some of our supporters.
Won’t Security find them?
I hope not. I was discreet. I shifted my weight. I just, uh, swiddled some accounts.
Twiddled? He laughed. Dehya, what did you do?
I had Laplace send them cartoons from the erotica databases.
He grinned. Why those?
They’re the easiest to hack. Dryly I added, It seems they’re the most accessed databases on this ship.
Now he looked intrigued. And what did you do with these pleasing holos?
I encoded them with directions to this smite. It had been the best way I had found to minimize the chance of alerting Security. Given how often people accessed those databases, the spike in activity due to my fiddling wasn’t likely to draw attention. Jon’s security is good. It won’t be long before they figure out what I’ve done. If we’re going to get out of here, we have to go soon. I unlocked the door.
Escaping won’t help unless we have support. Otherwise Jon’s guards will just put us Back.
Then we’ll try again.
As long a
s it doesn’t involve you getting hurt.
I almost groaned. Don’t you start too
Dehya, what do you expect us off to say? ‘Sure, go take all the chances you want with your life.’ I don’t think so.
The door beeped.
“That was fast,” I said.
Eldrin raised his voice. “Computer, who is it?”
“I don’t know” it answered. “The Pharaoh turned off my spy monitors.”
I went to the entrance. “Activate the viewing panel.”
“I can’t,” it said. “You have another program running on it.”
Ah well. Caught by my own intrigues. “All right. Open the door.”
The wall shimmered and faded. In the corridor outside, soldiers waited in rows, a metallic sea of silver and gray warriors. A man in a crisp black uniform stood at their front
“My greetings,” Ragnar said pleasantly.
21
Mutiny
Ragnar bowed from the waist. “My honor at your presence, Pharaoh Dyhianna.” Next he bowed to Eldrin, somehow making exactly the same motion seem less respectful. Then he lifted his hand, inviting us to leave the suite. “At your pleasure.”
I considered all the human firepower he had brought. His soldiers stood like a wall of cybernetic muscle. He couldn’t have organized them so fast; he must have prepared this before tonight. It made me uneasy. Just what had he planned? With this much backup, he could do whatever he wanted with us.
Eldrin crossed his arms. “How do we know we won’t just become your prisoners instead of Jon Casestar’s?”
Ragnar looked exasperated. “Your Highness, we’re rescuing you.”
With no warning, a shot came from the side. Ragnar lunged forward with the eerily smooth motion of someone controlled by physical augmentations rather than by his own conscious thought. A soldier behind him stumbled and fell, his shoulder soaked where a melting ice bullet had impacted him. The unexpected bullet had missed Ragnar, apparently because his internal system had detected its firing and thrust him out of its path with enhanced speed.