Schism: Part One of Triad (40 page)

Damn. That gave him a hereditary rank approaching her own. It was unusual for a matriarch to designate her son as heir, but in tins modern age, it was no longer unheard of even among the most conservative noble Houses. Dehya had named Taquinil as heir to the Ruby throne, and no one dared question Kurj as Imperator.

Even so. Vibarr’s title didn’t excuse his behavior. Soz waited to see where Blackmoor intended to go with this. She was aware of Kurj back there in the corner, listening, barely visible from where she sat.

The commandant sat forward and folded his arms on his desk. “I verified your node recording. I concur with Foxer that it hasn’t been altered.”

The implication that she might fabricate such evidence offended Soz. But she realized that given the identities of the people involved, they had to take every precaution, and that would include verifying the recording. She spoke quietly. “I would never alter it, sir.”

His gaze never wavered. “The House of Vibarr has recently suffered the death of several of its elder members. It appears family responsibilities require Cadet Vibarr to withdraw from the academy.”

Withdraw? Withdraw? They were going to let Vibarr go without a mark on his record. It stunk to the stars. They should kick his sorry ass from here back to the washed-out star system his family owned.

“I see,” she said.

“Do you?” Blackmoor studied her. “What would you suggest?”

“He violated the academy honor code, sir, including two breaches that require expulsion: physical assault and coerced sexual contact.”

“Expulsion.”

“Yes, sir.” Soz realized she had clenched the scrolled arms on her chair. She relaxed her fingers.

“And then?” Blackmoor asked.

“Then?”

“That’s right” He shifted his weight, a subtle motion, one she wouldn’t normally have noticed. Now, though, she had her full attention on him, widi an empath’s natural ability to interpret body language, gestures, and facial expressions, a skill developed after a lifetime of associating moods with behavior. He wasn’t as impassive about this situation as his demeanor implied.

“After we expel the Vibarr heir, what happens then?” he asked. “We have earned the enmity of a powerful House, one whose support has value to the academy.”

“Cadet Vibarr dishonored basic principles of our training. What about the honor code?” She drew in a breath to slow her pulse. “As Jagernauts, we must obey it. Why? Because civilian law doesn’t apply to us. Isn’t that the point, sir, that if we must act contrary to the law in our defense of Skolia, the civil authorities can’t prosecute us? But no one is above the law. Our instructors drill that into us every day. We live by the code.” She had studied it even before coming to DMA. “Vibarr made a mockery of it. He expected to get away with it because he didn’t know I had a node. His record may be sterling, but I’ll bet I’m not the first novice he has coerced.”

“So you would have him leave.”

“Expelled, sir.”

“And if the decision harms the academy or ISC?” He waved his hand as if indicating all of Skolia. “We may be governed by the Assembly, but you of all people should realize great power still resides in our supposedly titular aristocracy.”

Soz assessed his words as she would a scenario in her military strategy class. “In other words, political pragmatism outweighs honor and regulations.”

“Life comes in shades of gray, Cadet A leader knows how to deal with those shades.”

What bothered Soz most was that she saw his point. Blackmoor could also have thrown her own dreadful record at her. He didn’t. But that made none of this easier to swallow. Her demerits came from an eagerness to make her opinion known when it wasn’t wise or to move forward with more seniority than she possessed. She had never violated the honor code nor acted to harm others.

That DMA would let Vibarr escape admitting responsibility for his behavior corroded her respect for the code she had so admired.

Kurj came forward, a behemoth in motion. He fit tins huge office. Blackmoor did, too. If Kurj unconsciously chose his top officers to resemble himself, that didn’t bode well for her chances as his heir. At the moment, she was angry enough to wonder if she cared.

When Kurj reached Blackmoor’s desk, the commandant rose to his feet. Soz followed suit immediately, wanting to kick herself for her slight delay. She was letting her concerns distract her. If Kurj noticed, however, he didn’t let on.

He spoke to Blackmoor. “I will see you tomorrow, in the briefing.”

The commandant saluted. ‘Tomorrow, sir.”

Kurj turned to Soz. “Walk out with me.”

Apparently they weren’t done yet. “Yes, sir.”

He nodded to the commandant, one giant to another.

Then Kurj and Soz left.

The sun had just set over the Red Mountains in a blaze intensified by red dust until die entire sky seemed on fire. Soz walked with Kurj through the twilight across an inner sanctum of me academy, a private garden put aside for the commandant’s use. Moss designed for low moisture environments carpeted the ground, and beds of well-tended flowers nodded in the dry, hot breezes of the oncoming night

“You’re quiet mis evening,” Kurj said.

“Disillusionment does that to a person.”

“Real life doesn’t put itself in a pretty box tied up with ribbons, Soz.”

She spun around to him, stopping on the white gravel path. “I never said it did. But letting him off this way is wrong. It’s a tacit acceptance of what he did. You’re saying it’s all right.”

His gaze never wavered. “Vibarr was among the top students in his class and little more than one semester away from receiving his commission. He would have graduated with honors. Now he has nothing. He left tins afternoon. Yes, what he did to you was inexcusable. But he’s paying for it. Why is it so important to you that he also suffer the public disgrace of expulsion?”

“He should have thought of that before he violated the code.” She set down her anger and spoke evenly. “He tried to intimidate me with his title so I wouldn’t speak up. Now he’s receiving special treatment because of that title.

That’s wrong. You know it.”

“Yes, it’s wrong.” He met her gaze. “Suppose Blackmoor did expel him. And suppose that because of it, the House of Vibarr acted against DMA interests in the Assembly.”

“I hate politics.” That wasn’t actually true; at times they intrigued her. But right now she despised them.

“That’s not an answer,” Kurj said.

Soz gave him an implacable look of her own. “Yes, we have to make compromises to govern effectively.” She took a deep breath. “But every time we compromise our integrity for

the sake of politics, we lose something. Ultimately, it weakens the structure of anything we build. Including the military.”

He considered her for a long moment. “You’re a lot different from Althor.”

“Althor?”

“Are you recording this on your spinal node?” Kurj asked.

“Well… no. I recorded the session with the commandant. I stopped when you and I started walking through here.”

Curiosity leaked past his barriers. “Why stop?”

It was hard to articulate; she had made the decision instinctively. “You’re my bromer. I guess I put that above you being my CO. One doesn’t record their family.” She supposed she would if it was in some official capacity, but it hadn’t even occurred to her now. She had given him an implicit expression of trust that she hadn’t consciously realized she felt until this moment. That knowledge startled her, given all the times she wanted to rage at him when he was driving her twice as hard as the other cadets.

“I’d like to talk to you about something,” Kurj said. “But I don’t want it recorded.”

“I won’t. You have my word.”

“Good.” His gaze darkened. “When I saw that holo of Vibarr harassing you, I wanted to take him apart with my own hands. And if you ever repeat mat, I’ll deny every word.”

Soz would never have expected such a reaction from Kurj. She wasn’t the only one offering trust; for him to make such an admission said volumes about his faith in her. He had only her word it would stop here.

“Thank you,” she said, as much for his trust as for the sentiment.

Kurj started walking again, his face shadowed in the dusk. “Althor had a situation come up his first year mat in some ways parallels yours.”

Soz walked with him. “What happened?”

“He found out a senior was dealing phorine to other cadets.”

Gods almighty. “Phorine is addictive.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You’ve always been a master of understatement.”

“Did he tell you?”

“He should have.”

“But?”

“He hesitated because he knew the boy selling the drags.” Kurj shook his head.

“So he talked to the dealer himself. He had some idealistic view the kid would stop. Instead, the senior threatened his life.”

Soz knew her brother wasn’t one to give in to threats. “Then he went to you about it?”

“Not to me. To Blackmoor.” His inner eyelids were up now. “It isn’t coincidence that some cadets here come from well-placed families or the nobility. That makes for better educations, better preparation, and better connections.”

“The dealer came from a noble House?”

“Not a House.” He sounded tired. “He was the son of a powerful banking consortium. Any scandal could have had serious financial repercussions for DMA.”

Soz grimaced. “Hell.”

“That about sums up my reaction.”

“What happened to him?”

“He got sick.”

“And had to leave DMA as a result.”

“Yes.”

This sounded even worse than her situation with Vibarr. Cadets lived under intense pressure. A phorine dealer could cut an ugly swath through their ranks. “Althor must have been furious that the senior wasn’t expelled.”

Kurj gave her an odd look. “He was relieved. He wanted it kept quiet.”

Her idealistic view of the honor code was taking a beating today. “That doesn’t sound like Althor.”

“He claimed it was because he knew the senior. But this kid threatened to kill him. And he meant it.” Kurj glanced toward the dorms. “I think Althor knew some cadets who used phorine.”

“He should have given you the names.” Althor had always had an intense loyalty to his friends, but surely he realized that any psion taking phorine needed help. The euphoric

drug affected empaths and telepaths; die stronger die psion, the greater die addiction. Every cadet here was at risk. Far more harm would come to his friends tiirough his silence.

A thought shook her. “He didn’t try it, did he?”

“No. The doctors found no trace of die drug in his system.”

Soz breamed out in relief. As a Rhon psion, Althor would be brutally susceptible to even a tiny dose. Given the minuscule size of die population phorine affected, very Utile research existed on die drug outside of die J-Force and a few neurological institutes. She knew about it because she had researched high-level psions while preparing for her DMA prelims. A Rhon psion probably couldn’t survive die withdrawal without medical intervention. It would take a strengm of will beyond even Althor, who was a remarkably powerful man in both mind and body.

“He wasn’t helping anyone by keeping quiet,” Soz said.

“I agree.” Kurj turned onto another gravel padi. “To tiiis day, he insists he didn’t know any cadet who used die drug. He passed a lie detector test. If he wasn’t an empath, I would believe him.”

“He couldn’t pass a lie test unless he was telling me tram.” Experts considered the tests better man ninety-eight percent accurate.

“Some psions can learn to modulate meir brain waves. It affects die test.”

Kurj slanted a wary look at her. “And if you repeat that, I’ll put you on droid duty for die rest of your life.”

“My mouth is sealed.” She was learning a lot tonight they never taught in DMA courses. “Who do you think he’s protecting?”

“I’m not sure.” Kurj paced tiirough the twilight, and his atypically relaxed barriers let his frustration leak through to her. “We checked die entire student population. We found two cadets addicted to phorine and one who had tried it a few times. If Althor knew any of them, we have no evidence of that.

But it isn’t impossible.”

“He could be telling the truth.”

“Perhaps.” Kurj considered her. “What would you have done, if it had been a friend of yours?”

Soz didn’t hesitate. “Given you the name.” She couldn’t imagine doing otherwise, especially for a friend. “I would have asked you to get them in treatment as soon as possible.”

“That’s good to hear.”

She scowled at him. “And I would expel Vibarr’s sorry butt.”

His smile glinted. “You know, Soz, his name came up last year when the Assembly was discussing possible marriages between the Ruby Dynasty and noble Houses.”

Soz considered regurgitating her lunch. “Pity for my poor sister Chaniece.”

“They weren’t talking about Chaniece.”

“Well, Aniece is too young, and besides, she wants Lord Rillia.” She gave Kurj her most sour look. “And I know they weren’t talking about me.”

His laugh rumbled through the dusk. “If the subject comes up again, I will describe to them your expression as you delivered those words.”

“You do that.”

His smile faded into something harder to read. It almost looked like affection. “It can be refreshing, you know.”

She stared at him, aghast. “What could possibly refresh you about the Assembly interfering in our lives?”

“I meant someone who speaks her mind to me.”

Soz suddenly realized she had been glaring at her CO. “I mean no disrespect, sir.”

“Right now, Soz, we are just brother and sister.”

A confusing emotion washed over her, at least where Kurj was concerned.

Affection? Was it possible? It felt odd; they rarely interacted as siblings unencumbered by other responsibilities.

“Family,” she said.

“Yes. Family.” He spoke in a low voice. “Fodder for the Dyad.”

The Dyad. Everything they did came back to that powerlink.

The last traces of the sunset were fading and the stars of Diesha glinted in the sky. They walked on, caught in an isolated bubble of kinship, with the weight of the Trader Empire poised outside mat tenuous safety.