Saga of Shadows 1: The Dark Between the Stars (56 page)

Now the other members of the Confederation entourage stood blinking, looking about for their Ildiran counterparts so they could get to business.

A beautiful young woman came to greet him, singling him out. She had ethereal Ildiran features with a decidedly human caste. Her hair was pale and feathery; her eyes large, her smile genuine. Reyn’s Ildiran entourage placed fists against chests in a gesture of respect for her. One of the dignitaries bent close to him. “This is Osira’h, daughter of Mage-Imperator Jora’h and his consort Nira.”

He certainly knew who Osira’h was—she had fought the hydrogues at the end of the Elemental War when she was just a girl.

She extended her hand. “Prince Reynald of Theroc, I will be your liaison here. Since my mother was a green priest and my father an Ildiran, maybe I can help you bridge the two cultures.” She gave him a more personal smile. “I was looking for something interesting to do, and you seem interesting.”

He realized he was blushing. “I’ll try to be.” And, yes, Osira’h was very interesting, too.

The Solar Navy officers, the noble advisers, guard kithmen, and the Confederation representatives were ready to accompany Prince Reyn into the Prism Palace, but Osira’h grabbed his arm. “You must have felt so crowded on that ship. Growing up on Theroc with its big open skies, you probably just want a little space. Follow me.” She glanced at the others. “I will take care of him.”

She led him at a brisk pace away from the entourage, who were surprised when she abandoned them. As they entered the tower halls, she said conspiratorially, “Ildirans don’t like to be alone—you’ve probably noticed that already. Come, I can take you the back ways, and we’ll encounter fewer people, if you’d like that?”

At the moment Reyn would have liked anything she suggested.

They passed many soldier kithmen, ferocious-looking guards with body armor and prominent weapons. Reyn frowned to see so much security. “I thought Ildira was a peaceful planet. Are these just ceremonial guards?”

Osira’h hesitated. “There was a recent assassination attempt, and no one can understand it. Some people tried to attack my mother during a public festival.”

“Ildirans rising up to attack? What caused that?”

“No one knows—the assassins were like a silence in the
thism.
My mother would have come to meet you, but she’s being kept under special guard. You will see her at the banquet.”

Osira’h guided him along back corridors, through an empty sculpture exhibit, and up a winding spiral staircase to another tower of the Prism Palace where she led him to his guest quarters made of curved crystal adorned with colored lenses.

Regarding him with her large, strangely opalescent eyes, she said, “My inclination is to show you everything right away, drag you from tower to tower in the few hours before our banquet, and then tomorrow take you to all the planets in the Ildiran Empire.” She let out a quick laugh. “Maybe I’m being overly ambitious.”

He chuckled. “You are. I’m exhausted just hearing your plans.”

“We’ll have time,” she said. “You look weary. You should rest.”

Later, he followed Osira’h to the dining chamber where attender kith bustled about. Mage-Imperator Jora’h gave Reyn an effusive welcome, and Nira asked him about Theroc, even though she had visited recently for the funeral of Father Idriss. The rest of the Confederation entourage sat at a different table.

Her eyes sparkling, Osira’h took a seat beside him and explained the variety of colorful foods, fruits, meats, and confections (some of which were indistinguishable from the decorations). Ildiran musicians and singers performed an odd sort of atonal music with water-bubbling flutes; Reyn pretended to enjoy it. They both listened in rapt silence as a rememberer told a brief story from the Saga of Seven Suns.

His hosts did everything possible to make him feel welcome; nevertheless, Reyn felt a sense of uneasiness in the chamber, as if the Ildirans were subdued.

Osira’h introduced him to her brother Rod’h. Though he was a year younger than Osira’h, he seemed older, harder, and extremely serious. “There is an uneasy mood on Ildira,” he said, “a dislike for outsiders . . . like a kind of shadow.”

Osira’h flashed a quick glance at her brother, as if exchanging a secret warning, then she turned to Reyn. “We will protect you, don’t worry.”

He hadn’t been worried about that at all, but now he reconsidered.

Yazra’h, a strong and feral-looking Ildiran woman with flowing hair, rose to her feet. “We have no results in our investigations yet from the incident at the procession, Liege. We spoke with the families of the attackers. We studied their work, their homes. They had no connection to one another, no prior suggestion of violence.” She struggled with her words, wrestling them out. “It is baffling.”

“I should have foreseen it through the
thism,
” Jora’h said. “But they managed to hide their thoughts. The attackers were blank to me.”

“It is one of the ways the Shana Rei attacked us, during the ancient conflict,” Rod’h said. “Through our fears, through a weakness in the
thism.
”

Reyn felt uncomfortable as he finished his meal. Perhaps this wasn’t a good time for his visit to the Ildirans after all, but he needed his own answers as much as they did.

At a time of the day when only three of the bright suns were in the sky, the Ildirans noticed the diminished illumination; for Reyn it meant he could remove his filmgoggles when Osira’h took him to the lush greenhouse at the top of a palace tower. “The Mage-Imperator made this place for my mother,” she said, stroking one of the young worldtrees. “I thought you might feel more comfortable here.”

The well-lit chamber was full of exotic Ildiran plants, but the centerpiece was a small grove of worldtree saplings, each one taller than Reyn. He chuckled. “I’ve only been here a day, Osira’h. I’m not too homesick yet.”

“Still, I wanted you to know that this place is always here. You have to be experiencing culture shock with all these new things. I’m the daughter of a Mage-Imperator, and you’re the son of the King and Queen. We understand the need to have a special place. Your father must have had the same need when he was a Prince.”

Reyn smiled to remember the stories he’d been told. “My father lived on the streets of Earth. His real name was Raymond Aguerra, and he had three brothers, a mother who worked several jobs.” He glanced at Osira’h. “The Hansa thought he would be a perfect candidate to replace old King Frederick, so . . . they kidnapped him, staged an accident that killed the rest of his family, and then altered his appearance. They indoctrinated him so he’d be a good little King.” Reyn gave a harder smile. “That didn’t turn out exactly as they planned.”

Osira’h was surprised by the story, but she had one of her own. “And I was raised in a breeding camp where my mother was held prisoner. They trained me to be the savior of our race.” The two stood together, staring at the worldtrees. “I guess neither of us is exactly what we appear to be.”

Reyn hesitated, feeling the ever-present tremors inside him, but at least the twinges of pain had left him alone for now. “Then it’s good to know you.”

E
IGHTY
-
FIVE

X
ANDER
B
RINDLE

The
Verne
arrived back at the Ulio transfer station a day before their scheduled meeting. Xander had intentionally pushed the date, because Terry enjoyed the place and loved meeting with old friends; Terry was also pleased to show his former coworkers how successful he’d become, how his life’s path had improved. He had a happy relationship, a good ship and an exciting career, and had seen much of the Spiral Arm. (Thanks to Xander’s obsessive list-ticking, he was going to see a lot more of it, too.)

Since they had agreed to the ekti-X business venture with Elisa Enturi, the two young traders had gained a great deal of clout, not to mention profits. If this meeting with Xander’s parents went as well as he hoped, the distribution operations could increase fivefold through Kett Shipping, and Iswander Industries seemed ready to expand even more.

After the
Verne
docked—in a much less convenient berth this time—he and Terry worked their way through the connected ships. Terry propelled himself along in the vessels that courteously kept their gravity off; in other ships where his useless legs were a problem, he held on to OK’s shoulder and used his antigrav belt to keep himself weightless.

Terry bought drinks for some of his old comrades on the engineering and repair crews. They were glad to see their former coworker, and even more enthusiastic when Terry bought them a second round. Xander indulged his friend. Thanks to the ekti-X runs, their accounts were flush and likely to be even more profitable. They played games, told bad jokes and tall tales. Xander and Terry regaled them with descriptions of Fireheart Station, Rhejak, and the now-destroyed Kellum skymine on Golgen.

Xander was glad to see his partner so happy, but when two former coworkers tried to borrow substantial sums, Xander interceded and said it was time to get back to the
Verne,
where they would be spending the night rather than paying for a rented cabin. They preferred to sleep in their own bunk anyway.

During the next day shift, they had breakfast at Terry’s favorite galley café and checked the board to see that the
Voracious Curiosity
had just arrived. While Xander signaled his parents, Terry scanned the eating establishments and picked a new restaurant that served “Ildiran-human fusion cuisine,” including beverages such as kirae (which Ildirans found intoxicating and humans found disgusting) as well as new kelp and plankton brews from Kellum’s distillery. Xander dared himself to try a pint of “Primordial Ooze.”

Tasia Tamblyn and Robb Brindle joined them, with embraces all around. Even though Xander worked for his parents, and the
Verne
was still a Kett Shipping vessel, their travels rarely took the two young men back to company headquarters. With so much potential business hinging on this deal, though, Xander insisted that Tasia and Robb could justify a trip out to Ulio.

In the Ildiran-human fusion restaurant, Terry suggested that they eat family style so he could try the different dishes. Tasia and Robb had both spent years eating military rations, and Robb had even endured bland textured nutrients provided by his hydrogue captors while he was held as a prisoner of war. His parents weren’t picky, and Xander was happy to eat whatever Terry liked.

As they settled in to the meal, Tasia said through a mouthful of noodles, “We’ve been impressed with your shipments. The profits from all that stardrive fuel are really helping our bottom line—but where is it coming from? That’s enough output for a couple of top-level skymines. And Golgen’s gone.”

Robb reached over with a napkin to wipe some brown sauce from his wife’s mouth. “We’re also concerned about the connection with Iswander Industries. I’m all for giving the guy a second chance, but I’d like reassurances that we’re not asking for another disaster. What is his new ekti source? Nobody knows.”

Terry said, “We understand you have questions, and we thought you’d like to ask them directly.” He glanced at Xander, and then in a comically simultaneous gesture both of them looked at their watches.

Elisa Enturi was punctual and businesslike, as always. OK led her to their table, and Xander introduced everyone. Elisa gave them a cool smile. “Good to see the pilots of the
Verne
decided to bring my proposal to the highest levels of Kett Shipping.” She sat, but didn’t bother to clip herself in place; she seemed comfortable with or without gravity. “We’ll all benefit greatly from this.”

Tasia held up a hand and shot a sidelong look at her son. “Not so fast. We don’t know about your proposal. And we do have questions.”

Elisa raised her eyebrows. “Questions? Hasn’t the ekti-X been selling well?”

“Wonderfully well,” Robb said in a conciliatory tone. “But it’s not all about profit.”

“Really? I was hoping to expand our agreement to provide regular loads of stardrive fuel for at least five more Kett Shipping vessels. Our output is still increasing, and there’s a consistent demand. It’s business—it
is
about profit.”

“But where does your ekti-X come from?” Tasia asked. “I’m familiar with ekti-harvesting operations, old Ildiran skymines, nebula skimmers, hydrogen extraction from cometary clouds. I know how cost-intensive it is and how difficult. But . . . Iswander Industries—by the Guiding Star, where is it all
coming from
?”

“We have alternative methods of production,” Elisa said.

A waiter appeared, but Elisa gave him a slight shake of her head, and he backed away. She returned her gaze to Tasia and Robb, and Xander felt as if she were ignoring him entirely.

“Ekti-X is our proprietary discovery, our industry, and our profits. Lee Iswander just recovered from a severe setback that would have ended most careers, but he is resilient and innovative. Let him keep his secrets and don’t begrudge him his success.”

Robb raised his hands. “We didn’t say we begrudged it, but if we’re going to be distributing ekti-X, we want to know its source.”

“And I cannot tell you. Those are the terms. Iswander Industries has a growing supply of stardrive fuel to distribute. Do you want to be part of it, or should I contact other shipping companies?” Her expression was completely bland, as if she didn’t care a whit which option Tasia and Robb chose.

Xander interjected, “Ekti-X is a high-quality product, and it practically sells itself.”

Terry added, “Not to mention, we’re getting a good reputation as trade pilots. You should see your son in action—he’s getting to be a pretty good negotiator!”

Tasia and Robb looked at each other, weighing options. Elisa sat motionless, as if counting down seconds in her mind. Xander felt anxious, and when his mother saw his pleading expression, that was enough to tip the scale in their favor.