Schism: Part One of Triad (4 page)

Whatever the reason, Kurj’s antipathy toward her father remained strong. If she went to DMA this way, it would wreak havoc within her family. “If Kurj is offering this just to get at my father, I don’t want it.”

Tahota pushed her hand over her head, pulling back hair that had escaped the roll at her neck. “I don’t claim to understand relationships in the Ruby Dynasty. But I can say this: Imperator Skolia has far more important concerns here than his personal life.”

“Such as?”

“He has no heirs.”

Soz snorted. “I’m sure he does, somewhere.” Kurj’s penchant for beautiful women was well known.

“No legitimate heirs,” Tahota amended.

“He has to marry a Rhon psion.” It was why the Assembly hadn’t opposed Roca’s marriage to Eldrinson, despite his being otherwise completely inappropriate in their view. He was Rhon.

Soz knew the drill. Empaths and telepaths, or psions, resulted from the Kyle complex of genetic mutations. The more Kyle genes a psion carried, the greater their abilities. The Rhon had them all. But the traits were recessive; both parents had to give them to their children. As Imperator, Kurj could dally with whomever he pleased, but he had to marry a Rhon woman. Unfortunately, the Rhon were rare almost to extinction; the only ones known were related to him. The Assembly had coerced the Rhon to intermarry once, forcing a union between Soz’s oldest brother and his aunt, the Ruby Pharaoh. The resulting turmoil had nearly destabilized the government. They weren’t likely to try such again.

So Kurj remained single. She doubted he cared. He liked his freedom. He was almost sixty, but he looked thirty and he could father children until he was old and doddering if he wanted.

It wasn’t anything she wished to discuss with Tahota, though. She said only, “I’m not sure what this has to do with DMA.”

“Imperator Skolia inherited his position.”

That was tactful. Better than saying, Your brother assassinated your grandfather. It might not be true, after all. It could have been an accident Soz had no idea; it had happened before her birth. The previous Imperator had been Roca’s father.

Roca was a politician, not a military leader, but nevertheless, she should have inherited the tide. Kurj had taken it instead, by forcing bis way into the Dyad ahead of her. The Assembly had found him kneeling next to his grandfather’s body. They ruled the death an accident, but that could have been because they were terrified of his immense power. By mat time, he commanded the loyalty of Imperial Space Command, the massive Skolian military.

Soz said only, “Yes.”

“He needs heirs. They must come from your family.”

“I doubt it.” Going for the greatest understatement of all time, Soz added, “Kurj doesn’t like my father.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Tahota’s cautious tone made Soz think the colonel knew far more than she admitted. “But his heirs must come from your family.”

This visit began to make more sense. “He picked Althor, I take it.”

Tahota said, simply, “Yes.”

Soz tried not to grit her teem. Of course he would choose Althor. Why not?

Shannon had said it this afternoon. Akhor was magnificent He even looked like Kurj. Why the blazes this colonel came all the way here to tell her this news was a mystery Soz could have done without.

Then, suddenly, she saw. It was a courtesy. Kurj wanted her to know before he made the announcement Letting her attend DMA would ameliorate the blow. She had never expected anyone in her family to become the Imperial Heir, but in her more audacious moments she had imagined it, that she would rise through the ranks as Kurj had done and someday command ISC. Damn it all, they hadn’t even given her a chance to prove herself.

She spoke coolly. “I’m sure Althor is pleased.”

“He doesn’t know yet.”

“Oh.” Soz folded her arms. “Why tell me first?”

And Tahota said, “You are Kurj’s other choice.”

Soz froze. “What?”

“You are his other choice for the Imperial Heir. Possibly your brother Keltic, too, though it is too early to tell yet for him.” Tahota leaned against the wall. “Of all the Valdoria children, only the three of you show sufficient ability to succeed the Imperator. Going by seniority, Althor would be the first choice. By aptitude, you would be first.”

Soz barely heard anything past the first sentence. Gods all-flaming-mighty.

Tahota had showed up out of nowhere and dropped an antimatter bomb. She took a deep breath. “You have to slow down.”

“All right.” Tahota waited, giving her time.

Soz spoke slowly. “You’re saying that Kurj wants Althor and me to be his heirs. To succeed him as Imperator.” She reeled at the words. “He hasn’t decided who will be first in line, but Almor and I are me heir and the spare?”

“That about sums it up.”

Soz struggled to reorient. Although she had always known she was in line for the Ruby Throne, she had never expected to be Kurj’s heir, too. Her Aunt Dehya was the Ruby Pharaoh. Their ancestors had ruled a matriarchal empire, but now an elected Assembly governed Skolia. The dynasty still existed, however. The pharaoh had broken with tradition and named her son and only child as her heir, followed by Roca and Roca’s children, both the daughters and the sons.

Soz was eighth in line, too far down to expect anydiing. Nor had she ever thought Kurj would choose his heir from among the children of the stepfamer he so deeply resented. She didn’t know whether to shout, laugh, or blanch.

“It’s—unexpected,” Soz said.

Tahota smiled. “But deserved.”

“Wait until I tell Denric.” At sixteen, he was nearest in age to her of all her siblings, and they were close despite their different interests. “He won’t believe it”

“We would rather you say nothing,” Tahota said. “Not until the new line of succession is announced.”

“This is a lot to think about” Soz squinted at her. “I’ll bet _ it isn’t a usual part of your duties, telling prospective DMA cadets they might become Imperator.”

Tahota gave a startled laugh. “No, it isn’t.”

“Why couldn’t Kurj tell me himself?”

Tahota went into careful mode, so obviously choosing her words with caution that she could have been walking through a minefield. “The Imperator thought my presence here might be more conducive to a peaceful visit.”

“That was tactful,” Soz said. “You could have just come out and said my half brother hates my father’s guts and wouldn’t go near this planet if you gave him anomer half a galaxy.”

Tahota cleared her throat “I wouldn’t know.”

I’ll bet. Kurj had chosen Tahota well; she knew how to be discreet. “You know, it’s funny,” Soz said. “When I saw the Jag landing, I thought it would end this idyllic life I have here.”

Tahota raised an eyebrow. “Why would a Jag endanger your family?”

“It wasn’t danger.” Soz looked toward the port, which was just barely visible around the edge of the castle. Althor’s Jag waited on the tarmac, gleaming like alabaster. “I was going to ask the pilot to take me to Diesha. When I got there, I was going to apply for status as an emancipated minor, so I didn’t need parental consent for DMA.” The alternative would have been to wait eight more years, until she was twenty-five, an adult under Skolian law.

Tahota spoke quiedy. “That’s a big step.”

“I know. I don’t want to hurt my family. I just can’t be what I’m not.” She waved her hand at me plains basking in

the golden sunlight. “This is beautiful, but it’s not me. I can’t marry Lord Rillia and settle down having babies. I would go crazy.”

“Your aptitude tests say as much.”

“I didn’t expect to get support from DMA.”

“Why not?”

Soz shrugged. “I’m sure you have hundreds of good applicants.”

“Thousands,” Tahota said. “For about thirty positions.”

It didn’t surprise her. Academies for the other branches of ISC were larger than DMA. Jagernauts not only had to be empaths, which were rare, they also had to survive one of the most psychologically grueling jobs in ISC.

“I have to talk with my father,” Soz said.

The colonel nodded. “I want to tell Althor first, though.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Soz hesitated. “Do you think he has any idea?”

“I think so. I’ll talk to him this evening and let you know after I do.”

Tahota regarded her with understanding. “I’m here for your support and to answer any questions your parents have.”

“Thanks.” Soz hesitated, not wanting to jinx any of this but unable to contain her questions. “Why are you offering to take me now? I’m a year too young.”

“Your scores say you’re ready.”

“Even so.” Although Soz couldn’t pick up much from Tahota’s well-guarded mind, she sensed gaps in the colonel’s answer. “I’ll be more ready next year.”

Tahota’s face turned grim. “Hostilities between Skolia and the Trader Empire are escalating.”

“That isn’t in the broadcasts.”

“No. It isn’t.” Tahota exhaled. “Will we go to war? No one knows. But ISC is pushing its best cadets through as fast as possible.”

It made sense to Soz.

She just didn’t know how she would tell her family.

3

Blue Dale Moons

hannon stayed away while his family celebrated at dinner. He knew his behavior puzzled diem. Their thoughts brushed his mind. He didn’t hide; if they believed he was lost or in trouble, they would come looking for him. But he kept to himself.

He had known before the Jag landed that Althor was coming home. His brother’s luminous mind warmed his like a sun. It had always been that way with the two of them. It had devastated him the day Althor left home. He understood little about why his siblings or parents did what diey did. He loved his family, but as he had grown older, he had felt more apart from mem.

His life here left him restless and empty, and he didn’t know how to fill the gaps. Although lately he always thought of girls, it was never those in the village. He imagined girls like himself, with white-gold hair and silver eyes, slender instead of voluptuous, ethereal and misty. In Dalvador they were too robust, too much the daughters of farmers. He wanted to ride in the wind, never stopping, never settling. To be chained to a farm, trapped by the land—he could never bear such a life. It baffled him that Vyrl wanted it so much, enough even to study agriculture at me university. Shannon loved his brother and his sister-in-law and their children, but mat life seemed hell to him.

While the family dined, Shannon stayed in the stable. He sat in a stall next to Moonglaze, his father’s massive war lyrine. He understood lyrine in a way he couldn’t fathom people. Lyrine never analyzed. They lived in the moment, with no emotional barriers between them and the people they loved. It made sense to Shannon. Humans analyzed too much.

One of his biology texts claimed lyrine descended from horses and had been genetically engineered for Lyshriol. Shannon didn’t care. They weren’t horses now. Moonglaze’s prismatic hooves and his two horns splintered light into colors that sparkled and danced. Even in the dim light, hints of rainbows flashed on the amberglass stall as Moonglaze shifted resdessly. The great lyrine would have kicked most people who intruded on his privacy, but he tolerated Shannon and Eldrinson.

Shannon sat in a trance. He felt the minds of his siblings and parents questing for him, puzzled by his absence. Several times someone came into the stable seeking him, his scholarly brother Denric once, his mother later, then Vyrl’s wife Lily. He didn’t answer when they called and they didn’t intrude, though they knew he sat in Moonglaze’s stall. Eventually they returned to the house.

Moods swirled throughout the night, the joy of his parents in Althor’s visit and the excitement of his family. Other moods stirred below the surface like eel-streamers in a lake. Tension, uncertainty, sadness. A sudden spike of shock from Althor. Shannon absorbed it all like a sponge soaking in water.

He just took it all in. The causes would become clear later, or not.

So he sat.

Finally he sensed what he had waited for the entire day. Althor was alone.

Shannon could tell by the change in his brother’s mood.

He left the stable then.

Soz paced through the outskirts of Dalvador, following a cobbled alley that meandered behind a row of shops with all sorts of goods: glasswood place settings, furniture, and tools; delicacies sold by merchants who traveled to Dalvador from Rillia across the mountains; finely worked metal goods from the blacksmith; glitter to grow bubble crops. To her right, the fields of her father’s farm spread out under the

night sky, the reeds heavy with bagger bubbles. The crescent of the Blue Moon hung above the horizon and the gibbous Lavender Moon shone higher in the sky.

Tahota had shaken the foundations of her life. Surely Soz could make her parents understand. She just needed to present it right, in a manner that would convince them she couldn’t pass up such an incredible opportunity.

Realistically, they would be upset no matter how great she considered this news. But if she talked to them enough, stayed calm and enthusiastic, surely she could soften their resistance. Her mother would be easier, so Soz would approach her first. If Roca came around, she might ease her husband’s opposition.

“I thought you were a ghost,” a voice said. “A ghost haunting Merchant’s Lane.”

Soz whirled around, her back to the wall of a bedding shop behind her. A youtii stood lounging against a glasswood pole that held up the roof of a bubble-sculptor’s shop. The moonlight made his eyes look black and silvered his burgundy hair. He smiled, slow and languorous. “You going to knock me over and carry me off, Soz?”

Soz put her fists on her hips. “Not a chance.”

‘Too bad. It might be fun.”

“What are you doing, sneaking up on me, Ariquil?” She deliberately used his full name instead of Ari, the nickname she had called him when they went swimming in Blue Potter’s Lake a few octets ago.

He ambled over to her. “How come you’re wandering down here?”

Soz crossed her arms. She had liked him last year, then she hadn’t, and then she had again. By the time she had untangled her confusion, he had gone off with some other girl. Soz hadn’t known whether to be angry at him or at herself.