The Moon's Shadow (29 page)

Jai glanced at her. “French. From Earth.”

“You speak Earth languages?”

“I learned it in high school.”

She raised an eyebrow. “
This
well?”

“I pick up languages fast.” His parents had brought him up speaking Highton, Iotic, Skolian Flag, and Eubic. Shifting from one to another had been second nature to him since he began to talk. He also had an empath’s natural advantage; knowing a person’s mood helped him understand their words. As a result, languages had always come easily to him. He had studied many, including a few from Earth.

“Impressive,” she said. “Can you translate for me?”

“Certainly.”

“Good.” She contemplated Ardoise. The musician watched her like a deer caught in the lamps of a hovercar.

Jai switched into French. “Monsieur Ardoise, it is not our desire to keep you here against your will.”

Ardoise’s forehead furrowed. He started to answer, then hesitated.

“Please speak,” Jai said.

Ardoise took an unsteady breath. “You paid a lot for me. Why would you let me go?”

Jai wanted to say,
Because buying people is appalling.
But he couldn’t go that far. “My people and yours are trying to set up peace talks. Your abduction stalled the process.” He nodded toward Tarquine. “I’m going to translate our discussion so my wife can understand.” After Ardoise nodded, Jai repeated his words in Highton for Tarquine.

“You want the talks to proceed?” Ardoise asked Jai.

“Yes. I do.” Jai spoke carefully, first in French, then in Highton. “The situation is difficult. If I send you home, I lose influence among the Hightons. I need their support for the talks to succeed. But if I don’t send you back, your government may cut off negotiations. They consider the raid where you were taken a hostile action, potentially a prelude to war.”

Ardoise’s forehead furrowed. “Why would you want peace?”

For my parents,
Jai thought. “The war debilitated our people. It is time to heal.”

“A noble goal.” Ardoise obviously didn’t believe him.

“We hope to achieve it.”

“How, if you can’t send me back?”

As Jai translated for Tarquine, she tilted her head toward Ardoise with an expression Jai recognized. She wanted to question the Skolian. When Jai nodded, she spoke to Ardoise, and Jai repeated her words in French.

“We need evidence of who planned the raid where you were captured,” Tarquine said.

Ardoise answered without doubt. “Corbal Xir.”

Jai scowled. “That’s a lie.”

Ardoise chose silence over disagreeing with the emperor.

“Can you describe what happened in the raid?” Tarquine asked. “Any detail, no matter how small, might help.”

Ardoise stiffened, becoming so tense the tendons in his neck stood out. “I answered everything the mercenaries asked.
Everything.
It’s in their records.”

Jai gentled his voice. “We aren’t going to interrogate you. We need your help to bring the perpetrators of this crime to justice. We have no access to records made by the raiders.”

Ardoise pushed back his hair. His arm was shaking. “What do you want to know?”

Jai nodded to Tarquine, whom he suspected could see implications he might miss. She questioned Ardoise skillfully, with Jai translating. At times Jai could barely listen to Ardoise’s account of his captivity. More than ever, Jai despised what Aristos stood for and hated that all humanity considered him one of them.

Tarquine surprised him.

Jai had thought Corbal was the only Aristo who felt remorse for the behavior of his caste, but now he felt the anger that smoldered in Tarquine’s mind as she listened to Ardoise. It seemed his wife had a conscience after all. She might be as crooked as the path of a particle in Brownian motion, but transcendence sickened her.

After they finished talking with Ardoise, Jai stood up. Tarquine and Ardoise immediately rose to their feet, though Tarquine did it with that quirk of her eyebrows that so flustered him. He didn’t know how she managed it, observing all the toadying behavior expected toward the emperor, yet making him seem subservient to her.

When Jai called his Razers into the room, he felt Ardoise’s apprehension. Jai spoke in Highton to the Razer captain, taking the time to translate his words into French. “Please escort Monsieur Ardoise to the Emerald Suite. Have my staff provide him with anything he needs for his comfort. He is our honored guest.” Until he figured out what to do with the Skolian, he would treat him as a dignitary. Having his staff take care of Ardoise instead of the guards would also free the musician from the mental pressure exerted by the Razers.

After the proper formalities, the Razers escorted Ardoise from the room. When Jai was alone with Tarquine, he settled back into his chair. “What do you think?”

She lounged in her chair, her legs stretched out under the table. “That raid doesn’t fit Corbal’s style.”

Jai scowled. “I didn’t know abduction had a style.”

“Corbal’s pirates test their prisoners for psi traits before they kidnap them. Not after.”

“You can’t determine a rating from one test.”

“But you can get an idea.” She shrugged. “They have to be careful. Why steal something with no worth?”

“It’s called kidnapping, Tarquine. They aren’t fencing stolen goods, they’re selling
people.
It’s reprehensible.”

She went very still, regarding him with a scrutiny that made the hairs on his neck lift. Too late, he realized he had gone too far, condemning the very basis of their economy to one of the highest placed members of his government. He could qualify his statement, try putting it in a better light, but it wouldn’t fool her.

Tarquine spoke quietly. “Take care, Husband.”

Jai gripped the armrests of his chair. He remembered how she had looked at Ardoise in that instant when she thought Jai was giving her the Skolian.
Hungry.
Tarquine had stopped transcending, but the impulse lived within her, locked and suppressed. He glimpsed its edges every night and skirted it every second in his life with her, never certain how much she knew about him and what she would do with the knowledge, unable to confront her and afraid to delve too deeply into her thoughts, yet just as afraid of what would happen if he left it unspoken.

Jai shook his head. What could he say?
I can’t keep on this way.
He had no choice; he couldn’t give up and go home.

Tarquine exhaled, her face drawn. “We have a problem.”

“Only one?” He managed a weary smile. “The last time I checked, we had too many to count.”

“Jaibriol—give up this idea of peace talks.”

“I can’t.”

“These ‘problems’ aren’t going to stop.” She shook her head. “The assassination attempts, the propaganda wars, the lies and deceptions, the undermining of your authority—it will only become worse if you continue to push the talks.”

“I have to try.” He fought to keep his face impassive, but he was losing the battle. So he tried to make a joke. “It isn’t as if I have anything to live for besides you.” It didn’t sound funny. His voice caught on the words.

She started to reach across the space separating them, then held herself back. “No Highton emperor should ever make such an admission.”

Her intensity stunned him. She tried to shield her thoughts, but they were too strong to hide; his life, well-being, and happiness mattered to her in a way no Highton empress should ever admit.

Jai took her hands and pressed his lips against her knuckles. She let him for a moment, then pulled away. If he hadn’t been an empath, the rejection would have hurt. She responded to him in the only way she knew how, resisting her affection for him because she believed it would weaken them both. Yet the reason she wanted him to be strong, to survive, was because she cared what happened to him.

Tarquine sat back, retreating into her reserve. “We must discover who is behind this war of rumors against you.”

Jai let the moment go. “Raziquon, probably. Or the Diamond Coalition.”

“Or ESComm.”

“We need proof.”

She met his gaze. “I doubt we will find it. Whoever is doing this is too adept at hiding.”

“I can’t give up the peace talks.”

“Then bring Kaliga and Taratus here.”

He clenched his fist on his knee. “I can hardly stand to be in the same room with them.”

“You must try.”

“It won’t do any good.” If he used telepathy to find the evidence he sought, he couldn’t reveal how he knew. In theory, he had the authority to replace Kaliga and Taratus without giving a reason, but it could backfire spectacularly. Although his support in ESComm was eroding, he still had the military behind him. If he challenged his powerful Joint Commanders, his support could disintegrate.

Jai leaned his head against the back of his chair and closed his eyes. He had nowhere to turn. He couldn’t even convince his own people to trust him, let alone the Skolians.

Tarquine spoke softly. “Just find out what you can from them.”

Jai didn’t want to do it, but he knew she was right. “Very well.” He lifted his head to look at her. “The Qox Dynasty will extend an invitation to the Joint Commanders of ESComm to visit the Qoxire palace.”

Her eyes glittered. “Good.”

T
he Ruby Pharaoh played the Kyle web like music.

Kelric stood among the girders that crisscrossed the Triad Chair Chamber. Far above him, supported on massive robot arms, the Chair hung under a dome. Dehya was sitting in the Chair, surrounded by cables and conduits, sheathed in a mesh that linked to her internal biomech web. She looked small and otherworldly, lost in the immensity of the throne and its systems, but it didn’t fool Kelric. Mental strength ran through her like a diamond-alloy rod, brilliant and unfathomable.

The Chair slowly lowered from its dome. When it reached the floor, the techs went to work, unfastening Dehya from its tenacious grip. Only a few Triad Chairs survived from the Ruby Empire, including this one and the one in the Lock where Kelric had become Imperator. In this modern age, no one understood how the ancient thrones worked. This much Kelric did know; Triad Chairs were sentient, a form of intelligence so alien, it had little intersection with human thought. He had no idea why the Chairs allowed Triad members to use them to power and develop the Kyle webs.

As the techs worked on Dehya, she opened her eyes and looked straight at Kelric. He had an eerie sense, as if she wasn’t completely solid, that part of her remained in the ghostly webs spanning Kyle space, where her mind had been for the last two days. Intravenous feeds had provided nutrients and kept her hydrated. A medic spoke to her, and she shook her head. Kelric knew she was refusing to go to the cool-down facility, a small hospital with the sole purpose of aiding Triad members who had been in the web.

The doctor finally gave in, probably because Dehya was standing on her own, glowering as she adamantly refused help. Four Jagernaut bodyguards accompanied her across the chamber to Kelric. Surrounded by the towering cyberwarriors, she looked like a waif in a white jumpsuit.

“My greetings,” Kelric said as she came up to him.

“And mine to you.” Her voice sounded like leaves blowing over a distant plane. “It is so raw.”

“The web?”

“Yes. So new.”

“Did you find anything?”

She nodded, preoccupied as they walked together through the struts and girders, accompanied by their bodyguards. It wasn’t until they left the chamber that she spoke. “I’m not sure what I found, though. Glimmers throughout Eube, but nothing definite.”

Glimmers of light: it was how she perceived the minds of other telops in the web. Kelric rarely had impressions that distinct; for him, the web was more of a sparkling fog.

“One light was radiant,” Dehya said. “It could have been an unusually strong psion, but I’m not sure.”

Kelric considered the thought. The psions who lived among the Eubians were providers, their minds traumatized and constrained. It dimmed their light. If Jaibriol III was a psion, his mind could be hurt now, too, like the providers, clenched into itself as a defense against the Aristos.

“Radiance suggests a healthy mind,” he said. “I don’t see how that could be.”

“I know.” Fatigue saturated her mood. “It hurts even to think of.”

Softly he said, “Yes.”

“I found nothing concrete on Jacques Ardoise.”

Kelric had discovered nothing about Ardoise, either, but he didn’t have Dehya’s finesse. Although she lacked his sheer mental power, he had hoped she could find details he had missed. Then again, she had said
nothing concrete.
With Dehya, that word choice could be significant. “Anything less definite?”

“Perhaps.” They were walking down a bronze corridor now with their bodyguards. “ESComm might be involved in the raid where Ardoise was kidnapped.”

Kelric snorted. “No surprise there.”

She smiled slightly. “I checked for connections between the Line of Xir and ESComm. Some appear on the surface, but when I delve deeper, the threads disintegrate.”

Interesting. That suggested Xir’s links to the pirates might be illusory. Had the Eubian military set him up? “ESComm has a vested interest in stopping the peace talks.”

“But does Xir?”

“I wish I knew.”

She exhaled. “I also.”

Had Kelric never met Jaibriol, he wouldn’t have believed the emperor genuinely wished to negotiate. Now he was less certain. The peace process had to be making Jaibriol enemies among the Hightons. If he lost his throne, Coral Xir would probably become emperor. But Xir was no fool; he knew that whoever sat on the Carnelian Throne became a target. He might prefer wielding power from the shadows, as he undoubtedly did now. If ESComm sought to weaken Xir’s power, they might frame him for acts that would anger the emperor.

Then again, maybe Xir didn’t give a damn and just wanted providers to auction. It wouldn’t surprise Kelric after what he had seen of Azar Taratus, the Highton who had auctioned him and seemed to care for nothing but his own gain.

Lost in thought, Kelric continued on with Dehya, headed to a private magrail station. The Jagernauts kept pace, two in front, two in back. They rode the magrail out to the valley where the Ruby Dynasty lived on the Orbiter. The bodyguards came no farther than the station just outside the valley; within the secluded vale, the Ruby Dynasty homes were protected with the best defenses known to the Imperialate.

Dehya’s gracefully terraced house was built against a hill and shaded by trees, dappled in light and shadow. On the next hill over, far up the slope, the Imperator’s home stood, bare stone, striking in its simplicity. Kelric thought of his wife up there, Jeejon, and smiled.

As they neared Dehya’s house, she asked, “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, thank you.” Kelric enjoyed visiting his kin.

The door within the scrolled entrance arch shimmered and vanished as they approached. It looked lovely, but Kelric knew many deadly systems had monitored their approach before letting that door open. Inside, sunlight slanted through the windows, gilding the empty living room. A glorious singing greeted them, coming from some other room. Kelric recognized the voice; it was his brother, Eldrin, Dehya’s consort, the man the Traders had given up for Jaibriol Qox. Eldrin’s spectacular baritone filled the house.

Dehya stopped and sighed. “He hasn’t sung much since he came back from the Traders.” Her small fist clenched at her side. “He could barely talk at first, his voice was so hoarse.”

Anger surged in Kelric. “I’m sorry.”

She made a visible effort to relax. “It is over now. That is what matters.”

Kelric knew her anger wouldn’t release any more easily than his. Yet incredibly, she was right: it
was
over. Against all the odds, Eldrin had come home.

The singing eased into silence. Dehya headed toward an archway across the room that opened into a hallway. She had only gone a few steps when Eldrin stepped into the hall. It didn’t surprise Kelric; his brother had probably picked up their mental signatures when they entered the house, just as Kelric picked up his now. Kelric didn’t think his brother really understood the positive effect he had on people. Eldrin’s mind was like the swells of an ocean, but warm, with waves that rocked in deep, soothing motion. If Kelric was strength and Dehya finesse, Eldrin was warmth.

Eldrin met Dehya in the archway, and he took her hands. “My greetings.”

“And to you,” she murmured.

It gratified Kelric to see how much better his brother looked now compared to when he had first come home. Thinking of Eldrin’s captivity and his own experiences as a provider, he found it hard to imagine talking peace with the Traders. And yet—Corbal Xir had freed Eldrin. Kelric couldn’t reconcile that with the Highton who had so cavalierly crippled the peace process by abducting a Skolian. The Allieds could claim from now until forever that they had orchestrated the trade of Eldrin for Jaibriol III, but that wouldn’t change the truth; when Dehya had tracked Eldrin to Delos and come for him, the Allieds hadn’t even known his identity. Jaibriol Qox had orchestrated that trade himself.

Did Qox truly want peace? It seemed impossible to believe.

The house EI said, “Councilor Roca is here.” In that instant, the door chimed.

Dehya started, turning around. “Let her in.”

The front door shimmered open, revealing a woman. Her eyes were gold and her hair fell over her arms in gold and bronze waves. Seeing her in the entrance, Kelric relived the moment on Earth when she had thrown open the doors at Allied United Centre and run to him, the son she had believed dead for eighteen years. He had been blind then, but she had created such a vivid impression that he had seen her in the minds of everyone else in the lobby. He remembered his tears. Joyful tears.

Eldrin walked into the living room with Dehya. “Greetings, Mother.”

Roca joined them. “Gorgeous day outside.” Her disgruntled tone contrasted with her cheery words.

“Is everything all right?” Dehya asked.

Roca scowled at Kelric. “Light of my life, my youngest, sweetest child, it pleases me more than I can say to see you today.”

Kelric blinked. He was about as sweet as iron shavings. “What’s wrong?”

She glared at him. “Far be it from me to suggest that my impressive Imperator son is ignoring his wife.”

What? Jeejon was always in his mind. “Is she all right?”

“So you remember you have a consort.” Roca crossed her arms. “Good. It’s a start.”

Exasperated, he touched a panel on his gauntlet, keying in the code for Jeejon’s palmtop. After waiting, he glanced at his mother. “She’s not answering.”

“She doesn’t want to disturb your work.”

“I’m not working.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Surely she knows she can talk to me.” His face relaxed into a smile. “I like to talk to her.”

Roca relented a fraction. “Kelric, all she knew before she met you was life as a low-level taskmaker. She was a slave, and now she is married to one of the most powerful men alive. Of course she’s having trouble with it. She didn’t even know, at first, that when you disappeared for days at a time, you were working in the web.”

Gods. What kind of empath was he, if he hadn’t picked up on his wife’s distress? He understood why his mother noticed, though; since the death of his father, she had mourned deeply, her grief sensitizing her even more to the loneliness of others. He strode toward the door.

“Kelric, wait,” his mother said.

He turned back. “Yes?”

Roca sighed. “You are a brilliant man, my son, when it comes to military strategy or mathematics, but with women you could use a bit more subtlety.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Help her adjust.” She spoke quietly. “So far you’ve protected her from publicity. But you can’t much longer. It will soon become known that you married a Eubian taskmaker.”

Kelric frowned. If anyone had a problem with his wife’s common birth, they could go to the devil. “I stand by her.”

Her voice softened. “I know.
She
is the one having trouble dealing with it. For her entire life, since before her birth, she was molded, trained, and designed to think of Aristos as godlike and of herself as nothing. Now she has to face them as your consort, possibly soon, if the talks go forward.”

“Why didn’t she say anything to me?”

“You know Jeejon. She never complains. She thinks it would be ungrateful of her to disturb you.”

“Ungrateful?” He gave her an incredulous look. “Gods, she saved my life. I would never have made it back to Earth without her help. I was
dying.
I’m the one who owes her.”

“For saints’ sake,” his mother said. “I hope you didn’t tell her you married her because you were grateful.”

“Of course not.” He thought back to his proposal, when he was lying in a hospital bed on Earth. “I told her we had a good neural resonance.”

Dehya, who had been standing with them, laughed. “Now
that
was romantic.”

Kelric scowled. Jeejon, if he recalled, had made a similar comment, and in about that same tone of voice. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Kelric.” Eldrin took his arm and led him away from the women. When Roca started to follow, Dehya intercepted and herded her over to a recessed window across the room. Kelric picked up enough from their minds to know Dehya was distracting her with talk of politics. Perhaps they would solve the Eube-Skolia conflict while he and Eldrin grappled with the more difficult question of wives.

Despite Kelric’s several past marriages, he had a remarkable lack of experience in certain ways. Most of his marriages had been against his will or arranged, where he hardly knew his wife on his wedding day. Even when he had been offered a choice, the woman had been the one to court him. He had been pursued, seduced, coveted, kidnapped, bought, and sold, but only once in his life had
he
sought the relationship—with Jeejon. And that hadn’t involved courtship. He had no experience with wooing a woman, either before or after they said their vows.

Eldrin spoke without preamble. “Do something to show Jeejon that you think she is special.”

“I do that all the time.”

“How?”

Kelric squinted at him. “I think about her a lot.”

The corners of Eldrin’s mouth quirked up, though he tried to hide his smile. “Oh, well, that ought to do it.”

“It’s true.”

“You know that saying women have, ‘I can’t read your mind’? Well, my wife
can
read my mind, and it doesn’t make a whit of difference. You have to show them.”

Eldrin was too tactful to add,
you’ve never had to work at this,
but Kelric caught the thought from Eldrin’s mind. “What do you suggest?” Kelric asked.

“What does she like?”

“Me.”

Eldrin looked like he was trying not to laugh. “If you want to make your wife feel desired, I suggest you could come up with something more than, ‘Here I am. Aren’t you lucky?’”

Kelric winced. “I didn’t mean that.” He scratched his chin. “I could give her flowers.”

“Too generic. What can the two of you do together?”

“She likes to play those VR games.”

Eldrin grinned. “So take her to an arcade.”

Kelric regarded him dubiously. “As Imperator, it would be anomalous for me to go to an arcade.”

“You could have one installed at the house.”