He sensed no satisfaction from Tarquine, only fatigue. She didn't like what she had done, either. Why do it, then? Knowing her mood didn't reveal the reason for it, and she was guarding her thoughts even more than usual. Maybe she truly did want to increase Eubian wealth, even if it meant doing business with their enemies. She had always valued finance over war. But it didn't fit. Plenty of other methods existed that didn't require dealing with Skolians or hurting his providers. The only reason she had suggested opening trade negotiations was because she thought it could restart the peace process.
Jaibriol couldn't bear to reach for his dream at the price of committing the very crimes that caused hatreds between his people and the Skolians. Tarquine knew he would never do what she believed necessary to win support for his ideals. So she had waited until he was gone, and then she had done it herself.
He had known her nature when he married her, and yes—he had known it worked to his advantage. That he chose at times to forget that knowledge didn't make it any less true or him any less responsible.
God forgive me for the day I married you, he thought. For I don't think I can.
XXIV
A Father's Debt
"It is like an enormous, glaring machine," Rohka said. "It flashes and rings, with too many parts to count, and it has so much light, it blinds you." Her voice had that same quality Kelric remembered in her mother, a sweetness and energy he had never forgotten.
They were sitting on the sofa in the sunken living room of his house on the Skolian Orbiter. The place had seemed empty in the year since Jeejon's death. Having Ixpar and the children here changed that, but it was hard to absorb. It always took him time to adjust to new circumstances. Yet for all that he struggled to adapt, it brought him great pleasure to know he would find them in the big stone rooms of his house when he returned at night.
"I've never heard Skolia described quite that way," he said, smiling, more for the joy of her presence than for her less than complimentary depiction of his civilization.
Rohka winced, with no attempt to hide her emotions. She was open and unjaded, like a fresh wind blowing through his life. "I don't mean to insult your home. It's all so much to understand." Her large eyes gave her a vulnerable aspect. "When you vanished down that corridor, we feared never to see you again. I thought your people knew so much, but no one could say what happened."
"I didn't mean to frighten you."
"I'm just so glad you came back."
He agreed heartily with the sentiment. "How did you know to send me the Quis images?"
"Jimorla suggested it. He said a Sixth Level Calani would have to respond to dice." She shifted her weight on the couch. "Ixpar told your military people, but I don't think they believed it. She tried sending the images, but she can't do it. Jimorla said he wasn't strong enough. Your family tried, but they don't know Quis. So I did it."
He spoke with gratitude. "I don't know if either I or the pharaoh would have made it back, otherwise."
"I don't understand." Her young face brimmed with emotions: uncertainty, curiosity, fear, relief. She didn't hesitate to let him know how she felt, and to Kelric, that was a gift. "I study physics with my tutors. But none of it sounds like anything your family tells me about space and time and these places where neither exist."
"You can learn." He was balanced over an emotional chasm. If he asked and she said no, it would be worse than if he never asked. But the words came out before he could stop them. "We have a school on the Orbiter. It's among the best in the Imperialate. If you would like—you could study here." Then he stopped, for fear of her refusal.
"Stay here?" Rohka seemed relaxed on the other end of the sofa, turned sideways to face him, one hand on a large cushion. But he saw the way her posture tensed. Nor did she know how to shield her thoughts. Her mind was a blaze of warmth, golden and untouched by the harsh universe beyond Coba. She was a miracle, and she had no idea.
"If you would like to stay," he said, self-conscious. "It's your choice."
"I don't know." Her smile flashed like sun breaking through the clouds. "It's so incredible! All my life, I've known my father was Skolian. But I never understood what it meant."
Kelric grinned at her. "Just think of what you could see."
Her mood doused as fast as it had flared. Her emotions changed so quickly, it was hard to keep up. It was like sunlight glancing off a sparkling lake, then suddenly banished by clouds.
"I have duties to my people," she said.
He spoke quietly. "You will someday rule Coba. You'll live through the era when your world becomes part of the Imperialate. What better way to prepare yourself for that responsibility than by getting an Imperialate education."
She regarded him with approval. "That's a good argument. I will try it on Ixpar."
That was so much like something Savina would have said, it made Kelric want to laugh and cry at the same time. "Does that mean you would like to stay?"
"Maybe. But I have to talk to Ixpar."
His heart swelled. Her response might not be a ringing agreement, but it was a start.
"Kelric?" A man spoke in a rich voice.
"Eldrin!" Kelric jumped to his feet and turned to look over the couch. "My greetings."
Eldrin stood in the wide entrance across the room. He was about six feet tall with broad shoulders but a leaner physique than Kelric. He wore an elegant grey and white shirt and blue trousers. He had violet eyes, and his lashes glinted with a hint of metal. Burgundy hair, glossy and straight, brushed his collar, longer than most Skolian men wore it, or at least those in the military, which defined Kelric's world. It was no coincidence Eldrin looked like an artist; he was known throughout settled space for his singing. His spectacular voice had a five-octave range that normal humans couldn't achieve, a gift he had inherited from his father, the Dalvador Bard.
Eldrin inclined his head. "It's good to see you."
Rohka stood up, watching Eldrin with wide eyes.
Kelric smiled at her. "This is my oldest brother. Eldrin. Your uncle."
Rohka bowed to Eldrin, charmingly awkward. She spoke Skolian Flag with a heavy accent. "I am honored, Your Majesty."
Although it pleased Kelric that she knew Eldrin's correct title, he didn't want her to think she had to address his family with such formality. He regarded Eldrin with an intent focus and tilted his head. His brother nodded almost imperceptibly and walked over to them.
Eldrin smiled at Rohka. "It is a pleasure to meet you. But please, call me Eldrin." He hesitated. "Or if you like, Uncle Eldrin."
Rohka's cheeks turned rosy. "I would like that."
Eldrin glanced at Kelric, but he sent no mental images or thoughts. Rohka might "overhear." He could tell Eldrin wanted to talk to him alone, but Kelric didn't want Rohka to think he was pushing her away when they had just begun to know each other.
Rohka glanced from Eldrin to Kelric. Then she spoke with courtesy to Kelric. "Is it all right if I go talk to Ixpar now? I would like to tell her what we discussed."
"Yes, certainly," Kelric said, touched by her sensitivity. In that way, too, she was like her mother, rather than blunt like him. "Ixpar went to the pharaoh's home to get Jimorla."
"They're still there," Eldrin said. He gave Kelric a bemused look. "Mother and Dehya are asking your wife about that dice game. It seems Minister Karn plays it rather well."
Minister Karn. The title startled Kelric, for he would always think of her as Ixpar. But to the rest of humanity she was the enigmatic minister who had appeared out of nowhere. The broadcasters knew nothing about her, and Kelric didn't intend to tell them. He had promised Ixpar no one would bother her world, and he meant to keep his oath. With the defenses around Coba fortified even more than before, no one could even go near the solar system without having their ship confiscated.
"Ixpar knows Quis better than most anyone else alive," Kelric said.
"She trounces me all the time," Rohka grumbled.
Kelric couldn't help but smile
at her irate expression. "Give it time. You'll see."
Rohka blushed and smiled. Then she took her leave, as charming in her departure as her presence.
After Rohka left, Kelric walked outside with Eldrin. They went higher on the hill, above the house. The weather was, as usual, perfect. They strolled under trees with shushing leaves.
"She's quite striking," Eldrin said.
"Do you mean Rohka?" Kelric asked, pleased. His daughter, it seemed, was brilliant, beautiful, and charming.
His brother glanced at him and grinned. "You should see the look on your face. Yes, she is impressive. Mother is delighted with her, as you've probably noticed." He stopped under a tree and leaned against its papery trunk. "I meant your wife, though."
Kelric rested his weight against another tree. "Ixpar is more than striking."
"Imposing might be a better word."
Kelric thought of the time he had seen Ixpar striding across the Calanya common room, her waist-length red hair in wild disarray, belts of ammunition criss-crossed on her chest, and a machine gun gripped in her hands. "Yes. Much better."
"Your son is—" Eldrin paused. "I want to say reserved, but that isn't right. He seems almost in shock."
It was what Kelric had feared. "He's lived in seclusion his entire life. I'm astonished he was willing to come here at all."
Eldrin was watching him closely. "Those bands he wears on his arms—they're like the ones you have in your office."
"Hmmm," Kelric said.
"Just hmmm?" When it became clear Kelric didn't intend to add anything more, Eldrin spoke curiously. "Does wearing those bands mean living in seclusion?"
"Possibly," Kelric said.
His brother waited. Then he thought, Kelric?
Kelric kept up his shields. He didn't feel ready to speak about this. It wasn't that he intended to cut out his family; he would tell them about Coba. But it didn't come easy. Although he had always admired Eldrin, they had never been close in his youth. Eldrin was fifteen years his senior and had left home a year after Kelric's birth. Their lives hadn't intersected much; Kelric had joined the J-Force as a Jagernaut, and Eldrin had already been a singer. Only in these last ten years, with both of them living on the Orbiter, he had begun to know his brother.
"I don't mean to intrude," Eldrin said.
"You're not." Kelric exhaled. "I just need more time."
Eldrin smile wryly. "Your son is a lot like you. He won't talk to me at all. To no one, in fact, except Minister Karn. He never smiles, either."
"He doesn't mean it as a rebuff." At least, Kelric hoped not. "A Calani never speaks to anyone Outside his Calanya. And men from the desert never smile in the presence of women, except their wives or kin."
Eldrin was watching him with fascination. "Good gods, did you live like that?"
"For a while." The topic was making him uncomfortable. "I wanted to ask you about the Lock. You were there when Dehya and I came out this afternoon, weren't you?"
Eldrin obviously wanted to stick with the subject of his "little" brother living in seclusion. But he relented and said, "It was eerie. The two of you appeared in the corridor, slowed down. You looked translucent. You solidified as you came through the arch and started to move normally. It was about twenty minutes, though, before your voice sounded normal."
"Did you feel anything? Mentally, I mean."
Eldrin thought for a moment. "When I reached out to Dehya's mind, it felt strange. Disorienting."
"Is it still that way?"
"Not anymore. But something is bothering her." He regarded Kelric uneasily. "She says you and she must talk. That was why I came to get you."
Kelric rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Yes."
Eldrin waited. Finally he made a frustrated noise. "You're a regular fount of information today."
"I'm not trying to be obscure. I just don't know what to tell you."
"According to Chad Barzun, before you went into the Lock, you looked up those implosions. He thinks it could be important."
"Possibly." Kelric had thought it destabilized Kyle space to have two Locks carrying the load of three, but in trying to reactivate the SSRB Lock, he feared he had damaged it. Whether or not his efforts had eased the strain on the ancient centers, he had no idea, but if they hadn't, he dreaded the results.
"I've never seen Dehya like this," Eldrin said.
"Like what?"
"Scared, but she won't tell me about it."
Kelric understood the feeling. "I'll talk to her."
"Right now you have company." Eldrin indicated the hill below them. Four people were climbing it: Ixpar, Roca and her namesake Rohka, and a robed, cowled figure that could only be Kelric's son, Jimorla.
"First I need to talk to someone else," Kelric said. It was his son who had realized how to pull them out of the corridor.
Jimorla wandered with Kelric through the house, inscrutable in his robes. His cowl covered his head and the Talha hid his face except for his eyes. He had inherited the height of the Valdoria men, but with a slimmer build. Apparently in his youth, he had trouble eating some foods and had to boil his water, following the same diet Kelric had used on Coba. But whatever illness Jimorla had endured as a child, in the end Coba had agreed with him; as an adult, the young man was hale and fit.
When Kelric had caught up with Jimorla on the hill, Roca had taken one look at his face and ushered everyone else off, leaving him alone with his son. Kelric wasn't sure how she managed it so smoothly, but he was grateful. She seemed to realize that without privacy, he and his son couldn't converse.
Jimorla stopped in a doorway. "Is this your office?"
"That it is." Kelric lifted his hand to invite him inside.
Jimorla walked to the desk, which was stacked with jeweled Quis dice. He glanced up, only his eyes showing within his cowl.
Kelric understood his unspoken question. "Those are mine."
His son pushed back his cowl then and pulled down the Talha so the scarf hung around his neck. With a start, Kelric realized his son considered this office the closest equivalent of a Calanya, and therefore a place he might relax.
The light pouring through the window struck metallic glints in Jimorla's hair. His violet eyes were a color never seen in Coban natives. Prior to his son's birth, Kelric had assumed he didn't carry the gene for violet, because it was dominant on his home world and his eyes were gold. But the genetics of eye color had always been convoluted, and his people had altered their own DNA over the millennia, further complicating the patterns of their inherited traits.
"I feel as if I should ask for a Speaker," Jimorla said.
Kelric understood. In a crisis, if a Calani needed to talk to an Outsider, he could do it through the Calanya Speaker.
"You and I are in the same Calanya," Kelric said. "Now that you're at Karn. So we can talk."
"It's true, isn't it?" Jimorla seemed bemused. "I never expected to leave Varz."
"But you said yes." It meant the world to Kelric.
His gaze darkened. "How could I refuse? It would be tantamount to defying the Imperator."
Dismayed, Kelric said, "Is that how you saw this, as an order from me to come here?"
"Isn't it?"
"No. It's your choice. Always."
Jimorla gave no outward hint of his thoughts, but he didn't shield his mood any better than his sister. His mind evoked the aqua waters of a sun-drenched ocean. Thoughts swam below the surface like silvery fish, a flash of color, then shadows. Kelric couldn't follow most of the emotional currents, but he felt Jimorla's resentment. It wasn't only that his son hadn't wanted to come here; the anger went much deeper.
Jimorla? Kelric thought.
The youth tilted his head. "Did you say something?"
Kelric suspected his son rarely mind-spoke on Coba, if ever. Rohka was the only one strong enough there, and his children would rarely have the chance to interact.
"I thought it," Kelric said.
The color drained from Jimorla's
face. "Don't."
"My apology." With regret, Kelric raised his barriers. He seem less able to connect with his son than his daughter.
"Why do you want us here?" Jimorla asked.
Kelric searched for the right words. "I hoped we could get to know one another." It sounded so bland for such a great longing within him. He hoped he hadn't acted precipitously by contacting them, that his wish to know them hadn't outweighed his common sense in protecting them.