Schism: Part One of Triad (39 page)

Soz went to her locker and pulled out an academy jumpsuit, blue again. She changed in the bathroom, then waved to Obsidian and went off to meet her visitor, leaving her roommate with his quantum circuits. She strode through the dorm, down holo-paneled corridors and through the common rooms. She entered the visitors’ room—and stumbled to a halt. Gods almighty.

Her father had come to see her.

He was sitting on a white couch across the room, holding a blue geometric sculpture that usually rested on the table in front of the couch. Metal balls rolled around witfiin the glass tubes of the artwork and clinked as he tilted it back and forth. His wine-red hair had swung forward, hiding part of his face. He had on odd clothes, at least for him, a pair of dark blue slacks and a white sweater that accented his broad shoulders.

Soz hesitated. Had her father grown? She didn’t remember his legs being that long or his shoulders quite that broad. Her shock faded, replaced by disappointment that it wasn’t him, but also by warmth and welcome. She headed across the room.

“Eldrin?” she asked.

He looked up—and it was indeed her brother. Of all the Valdoria boys, he was the most like their father. His handsome face could have been The Bard’s at a younger age. He

had the classic Rillian hair, wine-red, though the sun had streaked it with gold. Metallic lashes fringed his violet eyes.

“Soz!” He stood up, smiling.

Delighted, Soz went over and embraced him. He felt solid and secure in her arms. She had always liked Eldrin, though she understood him less than many of her other brothers. Of all her siblings, he seemed the most Rillian. He was the eldest, twenty-three, married and a father.

As they drew apart, she said, “I had no idea you were on Diesha.” She spoke in Trillian, their native language. They were both trilingual, having learned Trillian, Iotic, and Skolian Flag since birth, but they had always considered Trillian their first language.

Eldrin smiled, seeming both pleased and self-conscious. They hadn’t seen each other for years. “I just arrived this morning.”

“Is Taquinil with you?” she asked. His son was always a safe subject, a beautiful boy with black hair like his mother’s and gold eyes.

Soz never knew if she should ask Eldrin about Dehya, his wife. She couldn’t help but wonder how he felt being the consort of the Ruby Pharaoh, arguably the most powerful Skolian alive. The family avoided the subject. To say he and Dehya hadn’t wanted to marry was the understatement of the century. That they had come to love each other was an unexpected gift in the convoluted emotional intrigues of Assembly-dictated marriages among the royal family.

Actually, “arranged” was far too mild a word. Coerced, more like it.

Tricked. Threatened. Inflicted.

By law, cousins could marry. Dehya and Eldrin were a step closer, however; he was her nephew. Legally, their contract was on shaky ground. The Assembly had demanded the marriage anyway, desperate for more Rhon psions. They called on an ancient law from five millennia ago that decreed the Ruby Pharaoh must take her consort from among her own kin, because only members of that dynastic line were exalted enough for such a union. It was a crock and the Assembly knew it, but no one had ever repealed the wretched law.

Personally Soz thought that with all that inbreeding among the ancient dynasties, it was no wonder their empire had collapsed. Yet for all that her family resented the Assembly’s efforts to control and breed them, no one denied they had reason. They didn’t yet know why, but in vitro methods of reproduction became unreliable for people witii the Kyle genetic mutations that produced psions. The more Kyle genes someone carried, the greater the problems. For Rhon psions, who had two copies of every Kyle gene, it was virtually impossible to reproduce by artificial methods.

The Imperialate couldn’t survive without Rhon psions for the Dyad, and only members of the Ruby Dynasty were Rhon psions. Soz’s parents had ten children, but Roca had struggled with her pregnancies, and the doctors advised against her having more. The Dyad had many heirs now, but the Assembly wanted to ensure a continuous supply, especially given the nature of the training for the Imperial Heir, which included combat experience. However, children couldn’t be Rhon unless they received the genes from both parents; it took two Rhon psions to make a third. The solution was obvious, at least to me Assembly: make the Ruby Dynasty interbreed. They picked Dehya because she had less genetic connection to the Valdoria branch of the family, and they chose Eldrin because he and Dehya had the fewest deleterious matches among their genes.

It was still too much.

They should never have reproduced. Their son Taquinil, so beautiful and so brilliant, might never be able to live on his own. Born of two people on the extreme end of empathic sensitivity, the boy was so susceptible to emotions, he couldn’t block them at all. He had no barriers against the onslaught. His parents had to protect him with their minds and provide the shields he lacked.

His doctors were struggling to learn how they might treat the boy wimout destroying the magnificent neural structures that made him such an incredible empath, but unless they succeeded, Taquinil could probably never survive on his own. The inexorable flood of emotions could drive him insane.

At Taquinil’s young age, it wasn’t a problem to be with his parents all the time. But as he matured that would change. His independence could cost him his sanity if the doctors couldn’t find a way to protect his mind.

Soz wanted to throttle the Assembly. If they insisted on meddling with the lives of the royal family, the least they could do was go back to choosing spouses from appropriate noble Houses to solidify political alliances. Not that it worked. Her brother Vyrl had certainly had his own ideas when they tried to marry him off to Brigadier General Devon Majda. Soz liked Devon, but she couldn’t imagine her married to Vyrl, of all people.

Yet for all her anger at the Assembly, Soz understood; if the Dyad ever collapsed, who would protect the Imperialate? It was no wonder they insisted Kurj begin training his heirs. Without experience, neither she nor Althor could function effectively as the Military Key to the Dyad.

Pain sparked in Soz’s head. She winced and pressed her fingers against her temples. Excited by Eldrin’s arrival, she had unconsciously jumped her node into an accelerated mode. During her entire train of thought, Eldrin had barely moved, only turned his head slightly. According to her node, less than two seconds had passed. It sobered her to think she could have just damaged her brain if the doctors hadn’t pared down the extra memory.

“Soz?” Eldrin asked. “Are you all right?”

Her time sense snapped back to normal. “I’m all right.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I’ve a node in my spine now, but I’m still learning to use it.

Sometimes it distracts me.”

“I don’t know how you can stand to have all that biomeclj put inside of you.”

Soz found it exhilarating rather than intrusive. “I like it.”

Eldrin indicated the couch. “Sit with me. Tell me how you are.”

Soz settled with him on the sofa, relieved to get off her feet. It had been a grueling day. It was hard to relax, though.

“I’m doing all right,” she said.

“Good.” Still tense, Eldrin was sitting up so straight, his spine didn’t touch the back of die sofa.

Across die room, two novices strolled through an archway, a woman and a man.

When they spotted Soz, the man raised his hand. Soz nodded awkwardly, but fortunately they went on their way, leaving her in privacy with Eldrin. No doubt tiiey would raise questions later. What would she say? Oh, he’s my brother, His Majesty, Prince Eldrin, the Ruby consort. Yeah. Right.

Eldrin’s face relaxed into a smile. “You have tiiat look, Soz.”

“Look?” She wondered why her brothers always seemed to find her so amusing.

“What look?”

“That ‘Oh, Gods, what do I do witii these brothers’ look.”

Soz glowered at him. “You sound just like Althor. I’ll have you know that I do consider my brothers human.”

He burst out laughing, an incredible sound, like music with rumbling chimes.

Soz sighed, delighted. She wished he would sing. He had inherited their father’s glorious voice.

“I’m glad you consider us human,” Eldrin said. “I’ve wondered.”

“I can’t be that bad.”

“You’re unique.” He turned to her, resting his elbow on the back of the couch, one knee pulled up on die cushions, which were shifting subtiy to ease his muscle tension.

Soz smiled. “I can deal with unique.” He wasn’t guarding his mind much, at least not compared to the people who surrounded her here at DMA. Nothing specific came through, but she could tell he was upset, something about their father and his son Taquinil.

Soz hesitated. “When I first saw you, I tiiought…”

He waited. “Yes?”

“That you were Father.”

He averted his gaze, his long lashes shading his eyes.

“Dryni?” she asked.

He looked up at her. “I had to leave Taquinil with Dehya. I was having nightmares about what happened with—wim

Father.” His voice lost its chiming quality. “Which means Taquinil had them, too.”

“Hai, Dryni, I’m sorry.” Supposedly it was impossible for them to experience what had happened on Lyshriol from so far away, but both she and Althor had suffered effects. El-drin, the child closest to their father, had probably experienced it even more. Rather than risk Taquinil suffering, he must have come here, hoping distance would at least help the boy, if not himself.

Knowing how much Eldrin loved his son, Soz could imagine how hard it had been for him to leave. “Have you felt any effects?”

He spoke in a low voice. “I can walk now. But I couldn’t for several days. The doctors found nothing wrong with me. I lost my sight for a while, too.”

Soz’s voice hardened. “The Aristos who did this to him will pay. I don’t care what it takes.”

Eldrin pushed back the hair that hung straight and glossy to his shoulders.

Soz had always liked the way it framed his face, his bangs often askew like a youth about to get into mischief. Now he looked exhausted. And vulnerable.

“I want vengeance, too,” he said. “But it won’t bring back his sight or heal his legs.”

A rustle came from across the room. Soz looked to see Obsidian headed toward her, his stride firm. Damn. Not now. It wasn’t like him to intrude.

At the couch, he hesitated, glancing from Eldrin to Soz. “Heya.”

“Heya.” Soz motioned toward Eldrin. “This is my brother, Eldrin.”

To her consternation, Obsidian bowed. Straightening, he said, “My honor at your presence, Your Majesty.”

Soz knew he meant respect, and she appreciated his intent, but if anyone saw him bow that way, they would ask questions she didn’t want to answer.

“Obsidian.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you.” He spoke more formally than he ever did in their room. “Commandant Blackmoor wants to see you, Soz.”

“Ah, hell,” Soz said. It had to be about Vibarr. She turned to Eldrin. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

He nodded, his disappointment obvious. A teasing glint also lurked in his gaze, undoubtedly because the commandant had summoned her to his office. “I will be here for a while. Maybe we can have dinner with Kurj.”

Obsidian froze, staring at Eldrin. Soz doubted it would help if she told him that Kurj had acted as a surrogate father to Eldrin during the first months of Eldrin’s life, while their mother had been separated from her husband. Kurj actually liked Eldrin and would certainly want to have dinner with him. Soz supposed he might even want her along, too.

“I’d like that,” she said, rising to her feet.

“I’ll walk out with you.” Eldrin stood and inclined his head to Obsidian with a regal carriage that Soz doubted he even knew he had. Although he dressed in modern clothes now, elegant and simple, she would always see him as a boy in the rough leather trousers and a faded blue shirt with thongs lacing it up the front. She smiled at the memory.

They all left then, Obsidian returning to the dorms, and Eldrin headed for the echoing, empty Ruby Palace in the mountains. Soz went to face the commandant of the Dieshan Military Academy.

The first thing Soz noticed about Blackmoor’s office was its size. Many dorm rooms could have fit in here. It contained a great deal of empty space. Wood paneled the walls. Genuine wood. On a world with no forests, the expense of such paneling spoke eloquently of the value the J-Force put in the commandant who trained its elite cadets.

A large desk stood across the room. On the wall behind it, a holo of the J-Force insignia dominated the wall, the starfighter seeming to cut through the air. Other holos of academy buildings and the Red Mountains glowed along the walls. Blackmoor was sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, watching her as she entered the room, his face just as unreadable as every other time she had seen him.

They weren’t alone. Soz was aware of Kurj as soon as she entered, though it took her several moments to see him. He stood by the back wall, his skin the same shade of gold as the wood. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his eyes shielded, like a metal statue.

Soz saluted them both, first Kurj, then Blackmoor.

“Cadet Valdoria.” Blackmoor indicated a high-backed chair by his desk. It had the J-Fbrce insignia emblazoned on its back and the ISC insignia on its gold upholstery. “Please be seated.”

Soz sat This felt unnervingly like a disciplinary action on a level far beyond demerits. She thought she had dealt all right with Vibarr, but it didn’t take a genius to see it was a touchy situation. Perhaps she had erred or overreacted. She had no way to evaluate it; she had never faced a comparable situation.

Blackmoor considered her from his big chair, which he filled with his imposing frame. “Are you aware of the identity of the cadet you recorded this afternoon?”

It wasn’t an auspicious opening. “Yes, sir. He is a Vibarr.”

“The oldest child of the Vibarr Matriarch, to be precise. Her heir.”