The Moon's Shadow (17 page)

“Right away.” Robert made another entry on his comp.

“Anything else?”

His aide hesitated. “Your Most Gracious Highness—”

Ah, no. He became a “Gracious Highness” whenever his staff feared they were about to say something he wouldn’t like. “Go ahead.”

“It is the matter of your betrothal.”

“My betrothal.” He was afraid to ask.

Robert crinkled the screen of his comp, then realized what he was doing and smoothed it out. “It must be announced.”

Jai tried to focus his weary mind. “I did that at the hearing.”

“Well, yes, you did.” Robert quickly added, “And a wise decision you made.” He did his best not to look doubtful. “However, it would be most glorious, Your Esteemed Highness, if you were to announce it to the public.”

Jai winced. “Oh. Yes, of course.” An insurance hearing was hardly the venue for the announcement of an imperial betrothal. “Can you put the Protocol Office on it?”

“Certainly.” Robert looked relieved. “You and Minister Tarquine will be expected to appear on the broadcast.”

“Have Protocol let us know what they want.”

“I will do that.”

“Anything else?”
Please say no.

“No, sir.” Robert averted his gaze and carefully rolled up his screen. He slipped the rod into the sheath inside his sleeve.

Jai could tell Robert was troubled. He eased his mental barriers—and discovered his aide was in pain.

“Are you all right?” Jai asked.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Robert wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Can I help with anything?”

Robert hesitated, then ran his finger under the metallic ring that circled his neck. It resembled bronze, but was more flexible than metal. “Your Most Gracious Highness, please know I would never presume—but I—”

Baffled, Jai said, “But you…?”

“It no longer fits.”

“The collar?”

Robert paled. “Yes. Please forgive my deplorable presumption.”

Jai stared at him blankly. “What deplorable presumption?”

“To refit the collar will require removing it.”

“And?” As far as Jai was concerned, Robert could throw the blasted thing away.

“You must authorize the removal.”

“All right.” Jai rubbed his eyes. “I authorize whatever you need. Let whoever fixes those things know.”

“Your Highness.” Robert cleared his throat.

“Yes?”

“I cannot request this work.” He was stumbling over his words. “You must do it.”

Like the shift of an optical illusion, Jai’s perception changed. He kept thinking of his staff as people hired at the palace, but they weren’t employees. He
owned
them. He had let himself believe, subconsciously, that they could take off their slave restraints when they went home. Of course they couldn’t. Judged from Robert’s behavior, even suggesting temporary removal of a collar could be a punishable offense. Jai
had
to think about it, whether he liked it or not; he was responsible for their lives and health.

Jai realized he was clenching his fist on his knee, his fingernails gouging his palm. He opened his hand and stretched his fingers. “Be assured I will have the matter taken care of so you no longer experience discomfort.”

“You are most kind, Your Gracious Highness.”

Jai didn’t feel kind. He felt like a monster. “Please make it known among my staff that if anyone else has such a problem, they can tell me.”

“I will take care of it, sir.”

“Good.”

After Robert left, Jai walked to the bed and collapsed across it, fully dressed. He lay there longing for home, for the people he loved, for a sane universe. Just a few months ago he had been spending his free time at the arcade with his friends, playing hologames. He had never had to worry about military intrigues, insurance bureaus, coalitions, imperial protocol, deadly brides, or kidnapped providers. He hadn’t been responsible for thousands of people who couldn’t even go to a metalworker without his permission. Hell, it wasn’t just his staff; he owned entire
worlds.
In hologames, ruling an empire had been fun.

In reality, it terrified him.

Moisture gathered in his eyes. He wiped it away, angry with himself. Then he tried to fall asleep, where dreams would let him escape the impossible demands of reality.

T
he meeting will take place on Earth,” the Minister of Protocol said. She was speaking to one of her aides, so she could be direct, but her words were meant for Jai. She stood next to him on a holostage. A gaunt Highton woman from the Haquail Line, she had a mind that grated like sandpaper. Jai was too tense to speak at all, let alone cope with the labyrinth of Highton speech. Mercifully, the aides with them had too little Aristo heritage to exacerbate his headache.

The holostage took up one end of the media studio. A screen curved around half of the elliptical stage, and consoles filled the room, as operators prepared to transmit Jai’s words. Media techs were setting up a white chair in one focal point of the stage. Protocol aides bustled around Jai, dusting off his clothes, making sure he presented an impeccable appearance. His rich garb was solid black and severely cut, both the trousers and high-necked shirt.

A tech came over and knelt with his head bowed. Embarrassed, Jai motioned for him to stand. When the tech had risen, Jai said, “You have a message?” He tried to ignore the protocol people combing his hair.

The tech motioned at the chair on the stage. “Just to warn you; it may look odd during the transmission. We’ll be overlaying it with an image from the Hall of Circles.”

An image? “Of what?”

“The Carnelian Throne, Your Highness.”

Jai nodded, disrupting the efforts of an aide to blot nonexistent sweat from his forehead. No matter how imperial they made him look, it wouldn’t give him more confidence in his ability to pull this off. Today was too important to muddle, but he felt painfully unprepared.

Protocol spoke to the tech. “Any word on whether the transmission will be in real time?”

He bowed to her. “None yet, ma’am.”

She frowned. “I don’t see how the Allieds expect us to believe they can do this transmission. Neither they nor we have access to a Kyle web.”

The tech spoke carefully. “They have Ruby psions in custody on Earth. Perhaps they can create a temporary bubble of Kyle space.”

Jai wondered at that. The Kyle web, what Skolians called the psiberweb, was a network of computers in Kyle space, outside of spacetime, making instant communication possible among the stars. But the web had collapsed during the war. He had his doubts that the Ruby psions in custody on Earth could re-create even a temporary webnode without a Lock.

Protocol didn’t look convinced either. She glanced at Jai. “Your Highness?”

Jai lifted his hand in the gesture that allowed the tech to leave. He wanted to rake his fingers through his hair, but he held back, knowing it would horrify the aides working so diligently on his appearance. It was hard to stay still; Protocol’s mind made him want to twitch.

A console operator came over to them and knelt to Jai, her long hair curtaining her face.

“Please rise,” Jai said.

As she stood, she spoke with deference. “We’re ready to start, Your Highness. We’ve received a signal from Earth.”

Jai tensed. “You mean a real-time signal?”

“Yes, sir. No delays.”

Protocol exhaled. “So. They did it.” She didn’t sound pleased that the Allieds had managed to create a Kyle node.

Jai understood her reaction, though he didn’t share it. If the Allieds could make one node, they might soon make more. Could they create a Kyle web from Earth? Personally, he hoped so; it would help keep a balance of power among Skolia, Eube, and the Allieds. Hightons didn’t want a balance; they wanted ascendancy over the rest of humanity.

The aides finally quit fussing over him. With Protocol at his side, Jai crossed the holostage and sat in the white chair. A tech put a comm button in his ear, and Robert’s voice came over it. “We’re ready, Your Highness.”

Jai wished his hands weren’t so clammy. He took a deep breath. “Begin.”

Everyone withdrew from the stage, leaving him alone. A console operator started the sequence to receive the signal from Earth. No one spoke. Jai realized he was holding his breath.

Suddenly a woman’s voice came out of the console, speaking an unfamiliar language. Another voice translated it into Highton: “His Royal Highness, Eldrinson Althor Valdoria, Web Key to the Triad and the King of Skyfall.”

Astonishment sparked in Jai; that first voice, the woman he hadn’t understood, had come from Earth, many light-years away.

He was about to speak to his grandfather.

Jai wondered at the title, “King of Skyfall.” His mother had described her father as a judge, with the title “Dalvador Bard.” His people had no king, though some of his duties were similar to those of kings from cultures on Earth. Jai supposed the Allieds thought “King” sounded more imposing than “Bard.”

The operator at the console near Jai spoke, her words going to Earth: “His Esteemed Highness, Jaibriol the Third, descended from the Line of Qox, son of Jaibriol the Second, grandson of Ur, great-grandson of Jaibriol the First, and great-great-grandson of Eube, Sublime Founder of the Concord.”

Listening to a man with a deep voice translate the words, Jai found himself wishing they didn’t have to recite his predecessors every time they introduced him. He felt sorry for his descendants; in a few generations, the lineage would become truly unwieldy.

A blurry image formed on the holostage about five paces away from Jai. It sharpened into a man who was sitting in an elegant chair encrusted with gold and rubies—and Jai’s pulse jumped. The man had violet eyes, and wine-red hair streaked with silver brushed his shoulders.

His grandfather.

Do you recognize me?
Jai thought. His grandfather knew about Jai’s parents; it was Eldrinson who had arranged for the two lovers to go into exile. Jai saw the resemblance between Eldrinson and his son, Eldrin, the uncle Jai had traded himself for on Delos. It had amused Jai’s mother that her parents had given the name Eldrin to her brother, who was the
son
of Eldrinson. Jai suspected they thought Eldrinsonson was overdoing it. No doubt existed about who was the father, though; the man facing him now looked much older. He watched Jai from across the stage, and across the immensity of interstellar space.

The silence grew strained as everyone waited to see who would speak. They had decided in advance to use English, a neutral language. Skolian and Eubian protocols both derived from the ancient Ruby Empire. They required the person who had requested the communication to speak first. In cases such as this, where both sides had orchestrated the meeting, the lesser power spoke first. If powers were matched or disputed, the newest leader went first. If the experience was matched, the youngest spoke.

Of course neither side would acknowledge being a lesser power. That meant Jai should go first, in deference to Eldrinson’s age and experience. But such would imply that Eldrinson—a man that the Hightons considered a provider—had higher status than the emperor of Eube. It violated the very basis of Aristo beliefs.

As far as Jai was concerned, no question existed that Eldrinson had higher status. But Jai had bungled too many of his dealings with the Aristos; he didn’t dare misplay this. Aristos tolerated the peace negotiations because the Radiance War had exhausted Eube. No one wanted more conflict. But if Jai stumbled here, his uneasy support would collapse.

So he and Eldrinson sat in silence.

Do you see my mother in me?
Jai so wished he could talk to his grandfather about his parents. He could say nothing, but they couldn’t sit here forever, either. Someone had to break the deadlock.

An idea came to Jai. He spoke—in Highton instead of English. “The Line of Qox acknowledges the Ruby Dynasty.”

An audible sigh came from the aides, techs, and operators. Relief washed out from Protocol, who was standing near the stage. By using Highton instead of English, Jai asserted the Aristo claim of authority, but he recognized Eldrinson’s greater experience by speaking first.

In a voice resonant with power, Eldrinson answered in Highton. “The Imperial Dynasty acknowledges the ascension of Jaibriol the Third to the Carnelian Throne.”

A chill ran through Jai. His own grandfather had just accepted him as the leader of a despotic interstellar empire.

So he and Eldrinson began their discussions.

This meeting was a symbol: their diplomats and staffs would set up the actual peace talks. Now they discussed who would attend. The Skolians representatives would come from their Assembly, the Ruby Dynasty, and Imperial Space command; the Eubian participants drew from the Qox Dynasty, Jai’s ministers, and ESComm. Everyone would be present as VR simulacra only; the risk of putting so many interstellar leaders in one place was too great. They chose Earth for the virtual conference site. Not only was it neutral territory, it was also the birthplace of humanity, a potent symbol.

Then Eldrinson dropped his bombshell.

“The Imperator,” he said, “will represent Imperial Space Command.”

Jai barely stopped his sharp inhale. “We had not known a successor to the late Imperator had assumed the title.” The words hurt: the “late Imperator” had been his mother.

“The Triad is complete.” Eldrinson looked beyond the range of the holocams and motioned. Then he waited.

A man appeared.

Towering and massive, with gold hair, skin, and eyes, the man walked into view, his image sharpening as he entered the center of the holocam’s focus. He moved with assurance, and his limp did nothing to detract from his imposing presence. Heavy gauntlets covered his arms from hand to elbow, embedded with conduits and controls. He stopped behind Eldrinson’s chair and stood facing Jai like a fortress, his face impassive, his gaze unwavering. And he challenged the Aristos with the most shocking defiance they could imagine—he wore a provider’s collar.

Someone whispered, “Skolia be damned.” Protocol stared at the man, her face a livid red. Murmurs broke the silence, rapidly growing in pitch.

Robert’s excited voice came over the comm in Jai’s ear. “Your Highness, I’m getting an ID on that man. He’s the provider that escaped from Minister Iquar!”

Fierce gratification swept through Jai. Let Eube choke on that. He could guess why Kelric still wore the collar: it would have extended neural threads into his nervous system. To remove it, his doctors would have to map the entire system and surgically remove each thread. They couldn’t rush the job, lest they cause neural damage. But Jai suspected Kelric had another reason for letting the collar show. It sent a bold message to the Hightons:
I am your worst nightmare.
Nothing could be a greater outrage—except a provider on the Carnelian Throne.

My greetings, Uncle,
Jai thought.

“Saints almighty.” Robert spoke over the comm again. “We have more. Your Highness, that man is Kelricson Garlin Valdoria, the youngest son of the Foreign Affairs Councilor, Roca Skolia, and Web Key Eldrinson.” When Jai didn’t answer, Robert added, “Sir—you must decide whether or not to acknowledge him as Imperator.”

Jai glanced at Protocol. She looked furious, but she didn’t intercede. That no one tried advising him gave Jai a good idea how nonplussed they all were.

His uncle’s triumph had come at a price. In the Lock, Kelric’s limp had been far less pronounced than it was now. And his eyes tracked Jai now. It was a subtle effect, one Jai noticed only because a friend of his on Earth had lost his sight in an accident. After the doctors implanted an optical system that let him see, his eyes had tracked in the same way. Jai could only wonder what Kelric had endured, struggling to reach Earth while his body failed him. It seemed impossible he could have done it alone. If anyone had helped him, they had a great deal of courage, risking the wrath of Eube.

Jai spoke quietly. “The Line of Qox acknowledges the ascension of Kelricson Garlin Valdoria to the Imperial Triad.”

Kelric nodded, restrained, but with recognition. Jai felt a bittersweet joy; he could never return to his family, but his uncle had, and in doing so, he might help pave a road to peace.

Eldrinson and Jai resumed their discussions, and Kelric listened, standing behind Eldrinson. When the appropriate time came, Jai said, “As proof of our good intent in this endeavor, I have pardoned Jafe Maccar, the Skolian merchant arrested and imprisoned by ESComm.”

Protocol’s mouth fell open. The aides and techs around the studio stared as if Jai had gone insane. Anger sparked from someone, he wasn’t sure whom. He knew his decision would engender hostility, but Maccar deserved the pardon. Now that Jai had the details of the incident, it was obvious the Highton noblewoman had sent out her pirate fleet to steal Maccar’s ships and crews after she paid for his goods.

Robert had dug up several other telling facts: Kelric had been the weapons officer on Maccar’s ship. And the Highton who had captured Maccar’s ship was none other than Admiral Azar Taratus, who had sold Kelric to Tarquine. According to the Halstaad Code of War, POWs couldn’t be auctioned as slaves. But Taratus had listed Maccar’s weapons officer as lost and presumed dead. The admiral truly did astonish Jai in his brazen disregard for the law.

Jai doubted ESComm would make trouble over the pardon, at least not openly. They wouldn’t want Taratus’s misdeeds to become public. That he was the brother of a Joint Commander would make the scandal even worse.

Eldrinson looked puzzled. “A magnanimous gesture, Your Highness.”

Jai inclined his head. Then he glanced at Kelric. Although his uncle’s face remained impassive, Kelric nodded slightly, with understanding in his gaze.

So it was done. Eube and Skolia would meet at the peace table. What they would achieve, if anything, Jai didn’t know.

But they would try.

Jai had never seen the Hall of Circles without an audience of Hightons. Now media techs filled it, along with the infernal protocol aides from this morning, when he had spoken to Eldrinson. They were at it again, fixing invisible flaws in his appearance. He wished they would go away.

The great doors of the Hall swung open, admitting a large retinue. Tarquine Iquar strode in its center, listening while her staff briefed her. Her retinue included the four Razers Jai’s people had sent her as bodyguards. It was the first time Jai had seen her since five days ago, when he had announced his decision to make her empress.