"Councilor Tikal," Protocol said. "I have a copy of what he tried to send."
Tikal stared at Kelric, his face hard. "Erase it."
"Sir." Protocol spoke in a strained voice. "I think you better look first."
Tikal was still watching Kelric, but Dehya went to the console and stood by Protocol, reading the screen. Kelric saw the widening of her eyes.
"Gods almighty." Dehya lifted her head. "Barcala, look at this."
Tikal didn't move; he continued to stare at Kelric. Then the First Councilor took a deep breath and turned around. He stalked over to Dehya and clenched one fist by his side while he read Protocol's screen.
Comprehension dawned on Tikal's face—and something more, shock or anger, or both. Kelric wasn't certain and he couldn't risk lowering his defenses with so many minds pressing on him. The shock he understood. But he had an ugly sense Tikal would be angry only if he wanted Kelric to die, for he was staring at the only evidence that could clear Kelric's name.
Dehya looked up at Tikal. "Let him speak."
"This has to be false," Tikal said.
"Check the signatures," Kelric told him. "They're verified by DNA and neural fingerprints. We have records of Qox's from the negotiations ten years ago."
"You could have forged them," Tikal said.
"How?" Kelric demanded. "They're guarded by the best security available to ESComm."
"That's right," Tikal said. "Almost no one alive would have the knowledge, intelligence, and access to break that security. Except the head of ISC." He turned to Dehya. "Or the genius people call the Shadow Pharaoh." He shook his head when anger flashed across her face. "I've known you for decades, Dehya. We may have no proof you collaborated with him, but I don't believe for one second you didn't know about his plans."
"She had nothing to do with it," Kelric said. He had gone to great lengths to make sure nothing linked her to his actions. Tikal might have indisputable cause to remove him from power, but not Dehya.
No hint of the "frail" scholar showed in her face. "You have no proof, Barcala, because none exists. But know this—Imperator Skolia has my full support. Will you deny our people the only chance we've been offered for peace in five hundred years just to further your own power?"
Tikal looked more astonished than angry. "I'm not the one who overthrew the government. You damn near put me to death."
"But I didn't."
As they argued, thousands watched. No one could hear them, and during Assembly sessions images of the dais were blurred enough so no one could read the lips of the people there unless they were giving a speech. But anyone could see Dehya and Tikal were in a heated debate.
Tikal took a shuddering breath. Then he swung around with his fists clenched and spoke to Protocol. "Release the file."
Kelric sagged against the podium, and Dehya closed her eyes. As he straightened up, she looked at him, and he saw her shock over the treaty. It was probably one of the few times he had caught her by surprise. That he had brought them a peace agreement didn't mean they would absolve him of guilt. No guarantee existed Tikal would sign the document or that the Assembly would ratify it. But at least they had a chance.
Jaibriol Qox could still change his mind; instead of announcing a treaty, he could claim that one of his providers completed the Triad. If that happened, Kelric had no doubt ISC would execute him. The treaty would look like a lie. Even if he convinced them that Qox had betrayed him, he had still committed treason. And even if Jaibriol never revealed that Kelric had shown him how to use the Triad, ISC would suspect. The worst of it was they would be right—he would have betrayed everyone, his family, ISC, and the Imperialate. Eube would have its Kyle web and Skolia would fall. Only something as monumental as a genuine treaty would ameliorate his defiance of the First Councilor and his secret meeting with the emperor.
The ocean of voices in the amphitheater swelled as delegates received the treaty. Dehya stood with Tikal, both of them reading on Protocol's console while she paged through the file. Glyphs flowed across the screen, gold and black. Kelric waited, his pulse hammering. At first the delegates were quiet, with only a murmur rolling through the hall. As people finished the document, their voices rose, questioning, stunned, astonished.
Kelric steeled himself, for he had always dreaded speaking in front of crowds. Then he touched send on the podium. No one stopped him this time. His words went to every console and amplifiers in the hall.
"The treaty you are reading," Kelric said, "was signed by myself and Emperor Qox. For it to go into effect, five more people must sign: the Ruby Pharaoh, First Councilor Tikal, General Barthol Iquar of the Eubian Army, Admiral Erix Muze of the Eubian Fleet, and Corbal Xir, heir to the Carnelian Throne. It must also be ratified by this body." He took a breath. "I have done what I can. What happens now is in your hands."
The noise surged until it felt as if he stood in a maelstrom. Lights flashed all over Protocol's console as delegates demanded a chance to speak. In the midst of the furor, Dehya came to stand with him. Absurdly, the podium was too high. When she touched a panel on its edge, a column rose from the ground. She stepped up on it and spoke into the private comm, so only those on the dais heard. "Transfer the file on Protocol's console to here."
A record of the treaty appeared on the podium.
"End of holofile," Dehya said.
The display changed to the last paragraph, and below it, the signatures of Kelric and Jaibriol. The emergency protocol was still in effect, which meant the display on the podium showed on every console in the amphitheater. Dehya picked up the light-stylus that lay in a groove of the glass.
And she signed the treaty.
The session seemed suddenly distant to Kelric, as if he and Dehya were on a mountain with a jagged range below them. They stood on a precipice. They might plummet down that long drop, but in this one exhilarating moment they had scaled heights no one had believed they could ever surmount.
Dehya smiled at him, her eyes luminous. "So we have." She turned and extended the stylus to Tikal. "First Councilor?"
He stood looking at her. Kelric waited for him to denounce the treaty, to say what it would mean if Jaibriol refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he took the stylus from Dehya. Then he stepped over to the podium and wrote his name under hers.
Kelric's pulse surged. Would it happen? Would Skolia and Eube finally, after more than half a millennium, find peace?
Tikal touched the speaker's panel, and his words rumbled throughout the amphitheater. "We are offered a treaty. It has been signed; the wording is not up for dispute. We must choose a time to vote on ratification."
"We have to do it now," Kelric said in a low voice, just to Tikal and Dehya. "If we're going to ratify it, we need to before Qox's people have a chance to weaken his position."
Tikal considered him. Then he turned to Dehya. "Would you accept a vote now, rather than waiting for the Assembly to discuss the treaty?"
She regarded him steadily. "Yes."
The harsh light of the amphitheater threw Tikal's features into sharp relief. He took a breath, his face creased by strain. Then he touched the panel. As he spoke, his voice rang out through the amphitheater. "The vote will commence immediately. A yea accepts the treaty; a nay refuses the treaty."
Clamor erupted again, and Protocol's console blazed. Kelric could well imagine the objections; they needed time to digest this extraordinary news. Unfortunately, they had no time, and he hoped anyone who knew the dynamics of Skolia and Eube would understand rather than voting against the treaty.
Protocol spoke into her comm. "Calling the vote." Her words glowed on the podium and came over the audio. She started with the lowest-ranked delegates and went through the roster. Ballot by ballot, the tally appeared on every screen. Vazar Majda stabbed her console when she gave her aye. Naaj showed more reserve, but she abstained rather than going against the treaty.
When Protocol called Ragnar Bloodmark, Kelric watched the admiral—and saw the flash of hatred. Ragna
r covered it immediately, even as his abstain registered on the tally. But a chill spread through Kelric. He knew he would never find proof linking the admiral to the assassination attempts. But he no longer had a doubt who had masterminded them.
When the call came to Roca, she lifted her chin, staring straight at Kelric. Then she smiled, a radiant expression. Her huge bloc registered aye on every screen.
No one followed Roca; as signers, Kelric, Dehya, and Tikal couldn't vote. The tally glowed over the hall in bold red letters: 78 percent yea and 22 percent abstain.
"It is done," Tikal said, his voice resonant. "The Skolian Assembly accepts the treaty."
Kelric exhaled, flooded with relief. It was done. But they had only gone half way.
The rest depended on Jaibriol Qox.
XXXVV
Quis
Jaibriol kept his bedroom darkened as he stared out a window wall at the city below, Qoxire, capital of his empire. Its lights glistened, high above the thundering waves on the beach.
A door hummed across the room. Footsteps sounded on the deep- piled rug and someone stopped behind him. Jaibriol knew from his guards who had come, and he tensed as he turned around. Corbal stood about ten paces back, watching him, cold and hard. Behind him, on a table, the Quis dice Kelric had given Jaibriol lay in piles, sparkling in the gilded moonlight.
"Have you come to condemn me?" Jaibriol said. "Or bemoan your lost admiration for your emperor?"
"Ten years ago, you walked into my life," Corbal said. "Raw, unsophisticated, idealistic. Lethally innocent." He came over to Jaibriol. "That boy is dead. The man I saw in the meeting tonight—the man who blackmailed his joint commanders and his heir into signing that repellent treaty—is a Highton."
"Perhaps you wish to congratulate me, then." Jaibriol felt no triumph. They had signed—and he had become more an Aristo tonight than ever before.
"I find myself astonished at Barthol's cooperative nature," Corbal said. "He esteems you greatly, to offer such a success."
Jaibriol met his gaze. "You think much about succession."
"Of my Line, yes." His expression hardened. "Of my emperor's promises—or lack thereof, yes."
He doubted Corbal would ever forgive him for threatening to reveal his secret after Jaibriol had led him to believe he wouldn't do it. Yes, Jaibriol had been subtle with his threat. But Corbal had known.
"Many Lines have succession," Jaibriol said. "Say, Iquar."
"The Iquar Line may be one of great tribulation," Corbal said dryly, "but no one would deny its strength."
"Indeed. Barthol is a fortunate man."
"Barthol?" Corbal's forehead creased.
"Yes. Barthol." Tarquine had signed the documents making Barthol her heir directly after tonight's meeting.
Comprehension flooded Corbal's face, followed by disbelief. "No one is that fortunate. Not with the empress."
Jaibriol turned back to the window. "She is complicated."
Corbal joined him and stood staring out at Qoxire. "You know my thoughts on that."
"So I do." He also knew what Corbal really wanted to ask. Now that he had the signed treaty, what would he do? Even a few days ago, Jaibriol could have answered without doubt; he would seek peace. But everything had changed. In meeting Kelric, in coming to know his Ruby kin through his uncle's mind, Jaibriol had seen just how great was the paucity of his life, even more than he had already realized. It had forced him to confront what he had given up the day he claimed his throne. He would never share what Kelric and his family took for granted, the kinship, the love, the Ruby ties. Jaibriol was the wealthiest man alive, and he was dying from starvation.
But if he conquered Skolia, he could have his family. He could protect the Ruby Dynasty. No Aristo would touch his kin. He had learned an invaluable lesson tonight; he had within him the capacity to do whatever necessary to bend powerful Aristos to his will. In tonight's meeting, he had been more a Highton than ever before in his life.
A sovereign didn't have to be a tyrant. He, Jaibriol the Third, could give the human race peace by following a different path. He could do such great good for his empire if he wasn't locked in a constant struggle with the Imperialate. Perhaps someday he could even free all his people.
He would never have a Ruby son; all that survived of his child was his memory of Tarquine's ravaged voice as she told him their son had died. He bit the inside of his mouth, using the pain to stop the tears that welled in his eyes. Unless he conquered Skolia, he would never again know a Ruby bond.
Images of Aristos cut through his thoughts. If he brought them this treaty, they would revile him, condemn him, even seek to end his life. That avenue to peace would be an unending route to misery. But if he brought all humanity together under his rule, he could offer protection instead of tyranny.
Jaibriol stared past the city at the violent waves battering the shoreline and leaping into the sky. "It is amazing," he said, "how difficult answers can be to the simplest questions."
"So I've heard," Corbal said. "It is amazing, too, how one can think he knows a man and yet be wrong on so many facets."
Each time Corbal brought up his betrayal, Jaibriol died a little more inside. "Gems have facets," he said. "People are more complex."
"Except for rubies, wouldn't you say? One should never underestimate their effect."
Jaibriol wasn't certain what he meant. Better to imply Corbal misjudged the situation than to admit everything. "I've heard it said misjudgment can be as dangerous as underestimation."
"Misjudgment and underestimation are two facets." Corbal paused. "A dyad, so to speak. You need a third facet. A triad."
His pulse jumped. Corbal couldn't know he had joined the Triad. He couldn't. He kept his voice cool. "To get a third facet, you must cut it. That can't be done if the tools are ruined." He doubted the Lock would ever again work.
"This is true," Corbal said. "One has to guess at so much in life. We can never be sure if speculation is no more than air bubbles that vanish when we look too closely. But let us suppose, purely for conjecture, that the destruction comes after the gem is faceted. A gem such as, say, a ruby."
"I prefer carnelians." It was a lie, but Jaibriol could say nothing else.
"Think of announcements." Corbal's words flowed like rich, forbidden oil. "One can proclaim many things. A signed document, perhaps. Or other things. Perhaps a trio of things."
"You seem fascinated with the number three tonight."
Corbal's voice hardened. "And think about this. What some call peace, others might call robbery of what belongs to them."
Jaibriol couldn't answer. He knew what lay within his grasp. He had thought of nothing else for the past two days. He could conquer the entire human race.
A man can be a benevolent ruler. He could make the existence of humanity better by changing the Aristos.
You haven't changed them in ten years, he thought. You've learned only how to survive. Was he becoming like them, the Aristos who believed they were so much higher than the rest of the human race while they inflicted such atrocities?
"Think of it," Corbal said. "Humanity has reached across the heavens, multiplied to incredible proportions, created wonders beyond any imagining. Our numbers are greater than any ever before known, more than our ancestors could even dream. We have achieved empires greater than anything we've found among the stars. We stand at the pinnacle of human achievement." His voice was like a siren call. "One person could rule it all."
Jaibriol's heart was beating too hard. "The Skolians have a saying," he answered. "'Across the stars the dynasty may trod, but yet the gods of Skolia are flawed.'"
"I wasn't talking about Skolians."
"Neither was I."
"Unlimited power," Corbal murmured. "Unlimited wealth. Unlimited realms."
"An empire fit for a man's heir," Jaibriol answered coldly. Until he and Tarquine had a child, Corbal was his successor.
Corbal's gaze darkened. "Or his wife?"
He thoug
ht of how Tarquine had walked at his side into his meeting with Barthol, Corbal, and Erix only hours after she had miscarried. In the lodge, he had seen her vulnerable in a way she would never show another human being, yet when she went to face the powers of an empire, she showed no sign of weakness. Corbal had no place criticizing her.
Jaibriol answered with ice in his voice. "A man's wife is his concern. Not his kin's."
"Nor should she be the concern of any facet in a triad."
Jaibriol felt as if Corbal had slammed him against the wall. He knew what "facet" Corbal meant. Kelric. Jaibriol would never be free of his uncle's specter. He had seen Kelric's mind. The Imperator thought of himself as aging and tired. He didn't see the commander who stood like a war god, the survivor who had defied two empires to claim his throne, the legend over which an entire world had gone to war.