So they began the complex process of sorting out what Earth would do with the two potentates who had appeared out of nowhere in a church in West Virginia, beneath the wide blue sky of Appalachia.
XXXIII
Mists Of Jaizire
ISC imprisoned Kelric on Parthonia.
His "cell" was a suite of rooms in a mansion that the army owned in the Blue Mountains far from any city. The officers who had picked him up on Earth had said very little. They had worn that same stunned look as the Allied Air Force officers. When Chad Barzun met them at the starport on Parthonia, his questions had broken over Kelric in shards. Kelric couldn't answer. He didn't know what would implicate him. Nothing like this had ever before taken place.
He had no idea what had happened to Jaibriol after the Eubian ambassador from the embassy in Washington, D.C., had showed up in Virginia with an octet of Razers. Someone in the church had contacted Washington as soon as they realized an Aristo had walked into their service. It had taken longer for the authorities to realize they should be doing the same with Kelric, but his own people had soon arrived.
And arrested him.
An ISC legal team questioned him. He said nothing. He allowed no one to access his gauntlets or Bolt. No one seemed to know what to do. Should they demand the Imperator submit to an biomech search? Normally they could order a Jagernaut accused in an investigation to release his internal systems. But it didn't take a telepath to see they were afraid of him. Sooner or later, they had to decide what to do. He didn't deceive himself. He had done what they claimed. The only question was his sentence: prison or death?
Kelric was standing by a table, pouring a much-needed brandy when the door chimed. Apparently his momentary reprieve from questioning was over. As he turned around with the tumbler of gold liquid in his hand, the molecular airlock across the room shimmered away, leaving behind a horseshoe arch. The Ruby Pharaoh stood in the archway.
"Dehya." It relieved Kelric to see her far more than he wanted to show, given how many monitors were undoubtedly keeping track of his every motion, word, and breath. With Jagernauts on the job, they might even be trying to monitor his thoughts.
Jagernauts. As in Najo, Strava, and Axer. The memory broke over him with pain.
Dehya walked into the room, and Kelric could see guards outside, both his and hers. Except in his case they were no longer bodyguards. They were holding him prisoner.
Dressed in a blue jumpsuit, with her slight build and small height, her long hair drifting around her body, Dehya looked vulnerable. Fragile. Kelric knew better, but it reminded him how close she could have come to facing the same charges ISC had leveled against him. Fortunately, she hadn't known about the message from Qox.
As the door solidified, Dehya wandered around the room, looking at the glass statues on the glass shelves and peering at the luminous sculptures in the corners of the room. The diffuse light reflected off her glossy hair.
"Nice room." Her voice was quiet. Calm. Conversational. Kelric knew exactly what it meant. She was furious.
"I'm surprised they let you in," he said. "The prosecutors aren't allowing any other family members see me."
Dehya turned to him, her slender form reflected in the mirrored wall behind the art objects. "I'm the Ruby Pharaoh. They can't refuse me." Her eyes blazed at him. "Unless of course they've neglected to tell me something. Like, oh I don't know, maybe that the Emperor of Eube contacted me while I was in the Kyle web. Just a little thing like that."
She certainly didn't waste time. "I didn't want you involved," he said.
Kelric, she thought.
He shook his head. Jagernauts were psions. He had trained many of them himself. Here, in the heart of an ISC facility, the chance was too great that someone might eavesdrop even on their minds if they dropped their shields and let their thoughts too close to the surface. Someone had figured out he went to Earth even though his security had been so effective that he and Jaibriol had staggered through the Virginia wilderness for over two days without anyone knowing. It had to be someone in ISC; no one else had access to that much of his security.
Kelric limped to the sofa in the center of the room, across the white carpet. His leg was healing, but not as fast as it would have when he was younger. Dehya watched him, her brow furrowed. When he eased down on the couch, she came over and sat on the one facing his across a crystal table.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"I'll be fine." It was a lie, and they both knew it, but he didn't see the point in saying anything else. Instead he asked her what had haunted him the past three days. "Have the remains of my bodyguards been recovered?"
Dehya nodded, the anger fading from her eyes. She spoke with that infinite gentleness she could show. "I'm sorry, Kelric. Nothing is left."
He somehow managed to nod. He looked away, at the vases, the shelves, anywhere that would let him blink back the moisture in his eyes.
Dehya spoke softly. "Roca asked me to tell you that she will support you no matter what."
Kelric looked back at her. "Is she angry?"
"Furious," Dehya said. "Scared for her son. Worried. Relieved and grateful you're still alive."
For now, Kelric thought. "They won't let me see even her."
"Especially her."
He frowned at Dehya. "Why especially her?"
She spoke quietly. "Roca is your heir. If you die, she becomes Imperator."
It hadn't occurred to Kelric that anyone would think he and Roca would plot together. But if he really had intended to betray his people to the Eubians, of course ISC would keep him away from his successor. He didn't want to talk to Roca, either, if it would bring down suspicion on her.
"The Allied authorities recovered the remains of both your and Qox's guards," Dehya said. "They found traces of the apparatus that set the explosions, and debris from weapons that don't correspond to those of our people or the Razers."
"But no commandos."
Her gaze darkened. "Someone else got there first."
He felt as if the ground were dropping underneath him. He couldn't reveal what he suspected. The three people who had tried to kill him in the plaza had seemed to act alone, but he had little doubt that someone else had arranged it. The commandos on Earth may not have known Jaibriol would be there, but whoever had masterminded the attempt would take advantage of the results. Kelric couldn't hide his meeting with Qox; news services all over had picked up the story. Whoever tried to assassinate him might have succeeded even though they failed; the attack hadn't killed him, but a conviction of treason probably would.
Dehya was watching him. "Jaibriol Qox."
"I don't think he planned it."
"It would be rather stupid to plan his own murder."
Kelric just looked at her. She looked back at him. They both knew what she wanted to ask: was Qox a psion?
Kelric said, simply, "Yes."
Her forehead furrowed. "He did plan the attack?"
"No."
Her eyes widened, just slightly, and he knew she understood. She pushed her hand through her hair, pulling the locks back from her face. She spoke in a murmur, reciting a line from a famous Eubian poem. "'So the gods turned in the void of stars, their frozen grave unbound.'"
Kelric clenched his hand around the brandy tumbler. "I need to address the Assembly."
"You can't address the Assembly if you're under arrest."
"You're the pharaoh. Order it."
"I can get you before the Assembly," Dehya said. "But they aren't going to let someone they consider a possible traitor speak as if nothing had happened. You would first have to let them vote on whether or not they judge your actions treason."
"All right." If he didn't face the Assembly soon, he might end up dead before he could bring them the treaty. He didn't know how much longer he could stop ISC from forcing him to download the records in his gauntlets and Bolt, but he doubted it would be long. Given the murder attempts, he had no idea what would happen to that download; r
ight now he trusted his own people less than he had trusted Jaibriol Qox.
She clenched her fist and hit the arm of the sofa. "Kelric, listen! If the Assembly votes to convict you, that's it. You don't get a trial. You saw the ballot against Roca. It was almost even, including your votes, and you don't get a say in this. You have the most powerful hereditary seat. Gods, you wield a larger bloc than anyone except the First Councilor and me. And this isn't as simple as whether or not one of us can cast ballots for a dead spouse. A vote against you is a vote against hereditary rule. The only reason we keep that rule is because ISC backs us. ISC—which has arrested you for treason." Her voice cracked. "If you do this, and the vote fails . . ."
Kelric knew she was right. But it changed nothing. He had one shot. Nor was betrayal within ISC his only fear. The longer he went without bringing the treaty to the Assembly, the more time Jaibriol Qox had to change his mind.
"The Assembly is in session," he said. "Get me a hearing. Today."
Her face paled. "Are you absolutely sure?"
He forced out the answer. "Yes."
Dehya looked as if she were breaking inside. But she said, "Very well. You will have your vote."
Jaibriol found Robert waiting as he stepped down from his flyer onto the roof of the palace. How Robert had managed to keep everyone else away, Jaibriol had no idea, but he was immensely grateful.
"It's all over the mesh," Robert told him as they strode to an onion bulb on the roof with a lift down into the palace. "The Skolian and Eubian services picked it up almost as soon as the Allieds started broadcasting the story."
"Any speculation?" Jaibriol asked.
"They've arrested Imperator Skolia." Robert practically had to run to keep up with Jaibriol's long-legged stride. "That's fact. Speculation? Everyone believes you arranged to meet with him under false pretenses and almost succeeded in having him killed. The Hightons think you're brilliant."
"For flaming sake. That's ridiculous." Jaibriol stopped at the tower and smacked his hand on the entrance panel. "And assassinate myself in the process?" He wanted to hit something a lot harder than a panel.
Only one holo of him and Kelric had reached the meshes, a clip caught by a security camera across the street from the church. But the image had flooded settled space: him half carrying, half dragging Kelric into that church, the two of them covered in dirt and dust, exhausted, staggering. Broadcasters were calling it one of the most powerful images ever taken. Of course everyone had the same question: What did it mean? Jaibriol wished he knew.
The door shimmered open and he stepped into the lift with Robert and his quartet of Razers. These guards had no names. None showed any sign of humanity. They were part of an elite unit he had selected, but none of them had challenged decades of programming to save his life and his sanity in the Lock. He clenched his fist and bit the inside of his mouth until the pain stopped his tears.
"Where is my wife?" he asked Robert as the lift descended. "I'm surprised she isn't here demanding what the hell was I doing."
Sweat sheened Robert's forehead. "She isn't in the palace, Sire."
"Where is she?"
"I don't know. I'm sorry."
Hell and damnation. Didn't he have enough problems without Tarquine going off to do who only knew what? "What about my joint commanders, Barthol Iquar and Erix Muze?"
"General Iquar is downstairs. Admiral Muze has sent inquiries to the palace."
The last person Jaibriol wanted to see was Barthol. Ever since he had left Kelric, his mind had felt raw and unprotected. Barthol would be like sandpaper scraping over a bleeding wound. It didn't surprise him Muze kept away, given that Jaibriol had threatened to execute him.
"And Corbal?" Jaibriol asked.
"He is in your office." With impressive calm, Robert added, "He appears somewhat upset."
Jaibriol shot him a wry look. "And people tell me I'm the master of understatement. They haven't met you."
"Ah, well." Robert exhaled. "It is quite some business."
"Think they're going to arrest me for treason?"
Robert looked bewildered. "You are the emperor. No one can put you on trial. Who would you commit treason against? Yourself?"
"It was a joke, Robert."
"Ah." He gave Jaibriol a rueful look. "It has been lively here, Your Highness. But not with humor."
The door shimmered open and they stepped into a gold and black foyer that reflected their images in the polished marble. Jaibriol knew he had to talk to Tarquine. Her brother's agreement to sign the treaty would be contingent on what Tarquine did with the Iquar title.
If Jaibriol asked him to sign.
"It's insanity." Corbal slammed his hand on Jaibriol's desk. "Are you mad, meeting him on Earth so you can attempt to kill him and instead almost get yourself killed?"
"Why does everyone believe that happened?" Jaibriol asked. They were alone in his secured office, with his Razers outside.
"Didn't it?" Corbal paced back and forth. "Now his own people are going to kill him. Was that your intent, a false murder attempt followed by execution?" He turned to Jaibriol. "It's brilliant, worthy of the greatest Highton strategists." He came back over to the desk. "And it isn't your style."
"I never claimed to have plotted against the Imperator."
"No. You just met with him in secret." Corbal knocked a vase off the desk and it shattered on the floor. "Is that what you're trying to do to yourself?"
The archway across the room rippled open, revealing the captain of Jaibriol's bodyguards. Since Jaibriol had a security blanket in place, his Razers wouldn't know Corbal had knocked over the vase, only that something had crashed. He motioned with his hand, dismissing the captain, and the Razer bowed, then withdrew. The archway shimmered back into solidity.
Corbal was watching him, his jaw rigid. "Do you have any idea what could have happened if ESComm or your Ministers believed you orchestrated that meeting with Imperator Skolia instead of to kill him?"
Jaibriol came around the desk, his boots crushing the shards of glass. "You set this story in motion. To protect me."
"Why would I protect you?" Corbal asked bitterly. "After you threatened me, my son, my granddaughter, and my entire Line."
Corbal's words had gone so far beyond the accepted modes of Highton discourse even with one's kin that Jaibriol had no doubt he intended the insult. Jaibriol walked away, then swung around to face him. "I met with Kelric to talk about the treaty."
Corbal came over to him. "He will never sign. Not Kelric Skolia, not the Ruby Pharaoh, and not their aggravating First Councilor."
"You don't know that."
"It is the oddest thing," Corbal said coldly. "Who would have thought both your joint commanders and Trade Minister would all support opening trade relations with the Skolians. It is truly unprecedented."
"You voted for it."
"Funny, that." His voice grated. "And if you bring me a peace treaty, do you think I will sign that, too?"
Jaibriol met his accusing gaze. "Would you?"
Neither of them moved, both standing in the debris of a shattered vase, a work of art considered beyond price. Then Corbal said, "Some principles are more important than peace. And some are more important even than blood."
"Principles of Highton ascendance."
"That's right."
And if it means an end of your life as you know it? Jaibriol wanted to ask. If it became known Corbal had willfully passed off his son by a provider as a Highton, helped Azile rise to a position of great power, and let his granddaughter marry one of ESComm's joint commanders, Corbal would lose everything. Jaibriol had only to invoke that specter to force his agreement. But he couldn't do it. Corbal had protected him for years. He couldn't threaten him with exposure.
Jaibriol walked away from his cousin. When he reached the opposite wall, he turned around. "You have to do what you believe right," he said, knowing he was giving up his only leverage against Corbal. "And so do I. Know this, my cousin. For me, the rise of
the sun is as precious today as it has always been, and as I hope it always will be."
Corbal's shoulders slowly relaxed as he breathed out. He came over to Jaibriol, but this time he stopped farther away, keeping the appropriate Highton distance. "That sounds like the man I have come to admire."
It was the first time Corbal had ever expressed the sentiment to him. "But not the brilliant Highton strategist."
"Look to your wife for that," Corbal said quietly.
"Robert says she isn't here."