The Moon's Shadow (36 page)

“Damn it, Dehya, they’re using us.”

She leaned forward. “If we withdraw, we weaken whatever support the emperor has for his position.”

“And if the emperor falls in a coup?” A muscle twitched under Tikal’s eye. Only a few months had passed since Dehya had overthrown his own government, backed by the military. The Ruby Dynasty suddenly ruled again, after centuries of having their lives constrained, manipulated, torn apart, even lost due to Assembly decrees. Kelric understood the desperation that had driven the Assembly to use the Ruby Dynasty no matter what the cost—the Kyle web protected Skolia against Eube, and without Ruby psions the web couldn’t exist—but that didn’t change what his family had suffered.

Kelric doubted the First Councilor would easily forget or forgive how close the coup had brought him to death. Had Dehya kept absolute sovereignty, the ancient laws of the Ruby Empire would have required she execute Tikal. She had split the government instead because losing him and the Assembly would have weakened Skolia. The Eubians had a less benign view. If Jaibriol III fell in a coup, he would be very dead, very fast.

“If he falls, we deal with it,” Dehya said. “We can’t stop talking peace just because he
might
be overthrown.”

Tikal leaned forward. “Every moment our links stay open to Glory, we give ESComm an opportunity to crack the web.”

“We need real-time discussions.”

“It isn’t worth the risk.”

“Without risks, we’ll never attain peace.”

Tikal snorted. “They don’t want peace.”

“And if their emperor is sincere?”

“Why would he be?”

Dehya let out a breath. “I can’t say why I think so. It’s intuition.”

“Your ‘intuition’ is legendary,” Tikal said. “With all those extra neural structures of yours, gods know you see more than most people. But you’re not always right.”

“I can’t make promises. But I believe this.”

Tikal glanced at Kelric. “You agree with the Pharaoh?”

“Yes.”

“On the basis of your talk with the empress.”

“That’s right.”

Tikal looked frustrated. “It’s too little to go on.”

“Barcala,” Dehya said. “Don’t give up on this now.”

Tikal narrowed his gaze at her. It was a long moment before he spoke.

Then he said, “Bloody hell. All right. Let’s continue.”

J
ai found these restricted sessions of the peace talks the most grueling. Today he and Tarquine met with Pharaoh Dyhianna and Kelric, only the four of them. The Ruby Pharaoh regarded him across the table, her voice startling in its rich timbre. “Eubian pirates continue to attack Skolian ships. It is unacceptable.”

In his side vision, Jai saw Tarquine stiffen. Given how accomplished the Pharaoh had turned out to be at interpreting Highton speech, he had no doubt her direct language now was deliberate; she was testing them, probing their reactions. Her authority probably offended Tarquine more than her speech; providers weren’t supposed to understand the complexities of Highton speech but they were expected to defer to Aristos. Dyhianna violated both expectations with a vengeance.

He also understood what Dyhianna left unsaid; his own cousin, Corbal, rated among the worst offenders when it came to raids in Skolian territory. He couldn’t reveal that Corbal had been set up; it would only make his power base look weak.

“Any raiders that prey on your people are breaking our laws,” Jai said. “They will be punished.”

It was Kelric who answered, his voice a rumble. “An assurance easily made.” He left the rest of the sentence hanging:
and easily broken.

Tarquine focused on Kelric with an intensity Jai knew would have made his own face flame. Yet Kelric remained unruffled even when she spoke in that devastating voice of hers. “An assurance,” she said, “backed by strength.” Jai recognized the nuanced Highton message in her posture; she referred to military strength. ESComm.

The Pharaoh shrugged. “That requires a willingness to back the assurance.”

“A requirement easily met,” Jai said. He wanted to throttle Kaliga for weakening his position this way.

Tarquine’s voice came over his private channel. “Don’t let her push you. Setting ‘requirements’ gives them advantage.”

Damn. Every time he thought he was making progress, he stumbled. Everyone at this table was many decades older than him, and they all had experience commensurate with their years. He knew he wasn’t the first sovereign to assume his throne at too young an age, but he didn’t see how other such rulers had managed. Then again, maybe they hadn’t; very few hereditary governments existed now. Even the Ruby Pharaoh had foregone sole power.

Dyhianna bemused Jai. For all that she resembled his mother, she had a finesse his mother had lacked. Hale and hearty, Soz Valdoria had been the epitome of a cybernetic warrior, but no one would have ever called her subtle. Dyhianna had so much subtlety that on the rare occasions when she chose bluntness, it came as a shock, one she used to deliberate effect. Nor could he imagine anyone calling his mother “delicate,” whereas Dyhianna seemed breakable. But the differences were superficial; he recognized the same strength of will and intellect in his aunt that he had known in his mother.

He wasn’t certain what Tarquine thought of the Pharaoh. Dyhianna defied everything Tarquine considered right and proper, on top of which, Dyhianna had the audacity to be short, when Hightons valued height. But Tarquine was no fool. She had to recognize the Pharaoh’s strength, the authority that Dyhianna wielded with confidence. Dyhianna and Tarquine were like two lionesses circling each other, each evaluating her foe and protecting her pride.

Now Tarquine spoke. “It is important to punish lawbreakers for their crimes.”

Jai stiffened. After telling him not to let the Skolians control the discussion, Tarquine had just played into their hands, implying they had reason to censure Eube. Personally Jai agreed, but he and Tarquine had to represent the Aristos or he would lose what remained of his support.

The Pharaoh didn’t seem to agree with his assessment. Her voice turned icy. “Unless the ‘law’ is itself a crime.”

Jai suddenly understood Tarquine’s intent. Slavery was anathema among Skolians; when Eubians escaped to Skolia, they became free and were granted asylum. According to Eubian law, the Skolians were committing a major crime by harboring escaped taskmakers or providers. He hadn’t thought Tarquine was serious when she said Kelric owed her fourteen million, but now he wondered. What if she demanded reparations? Surely even she wouldn’t be that outrageous.

“It should be possible,” Jai said, “to find compromises for differences in legal systems.”

“Some laws are too opposed,” Dyhianna said coldly.

“Opposition can be resolved,” Jai offered.

“Opposition, yes.” Kelric showed no sign of relenting. “Morality, no.”

Tarquine narrowed her gaze at him. “Whose morality?”

Dyhianna answered. “Some principles should be universal.” Her voice could have chilled ice.

Tarquine raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

Jai knew they were debating the slave trade. Skolians would never accept it and Eube would never relinquish it. Quietly, he said, “Must billions die for this opposition?”

Kelric met his gaze. “If it is important enough.”

“And if those deaths aren’t necessary?” Tarquine asked.

Anger edged Dyhianna’s voice. “How can you stop them, when laws we consider an abomination are forced on unwilling populations?”

Jai took a deep breath—and plunged ahead. “Suppose such force became illegal?”

Kelric went very still. “It already is illegal.”

“Illegal on both sides,” Jai said.

Silence descended on the table. Jai was glad none of them could see him sweating. He had just offered to outlaw the pirate fleets. Although neither ESComm nor any Aristos admitted owning such fleets, no Eubian law forbade the raids. Only the Halstaad Code of War even addressed the issue; it prohibited selling Skolian POWs. Given that most Aristos had no wish to own hostile Skolian soldiers, it wasn’t hard to enforce the Code. But that was for taskmakers, who weren’t psions. If Kelric’s experience was any indication of what happened with a psion, it could be a nightmare trying to forbid
all
raids. But Jai was willing to try, if the Skolians would offer a compromise he could take to the Hightons.

Tarquine spoke on his private channel. “ESComm will never allow you to outlaw the raids.”

“I have to try.” He answered Tarquine privately, but then he spoke to the Pharaoh on the channel everyone could hear. “Skolian citizens should have the right to remain Skolian—just as Eubian citizens should remain Eubian.” In other words, if he stopped Eubians from taking Skolians, then her people should send escaped slaves back to Eube.

She regarded him for a moment. “I see.”

No one else spoke. Jai knew the compromise was abhorrent to both sides. The Aristos would revile any law forbidding the raids; the Skolians would revile any law requiring them to return escaped taskmakers and providers to Eube. But gods, it was better than world-slagging wars that would never end until they destroyed human life.

Kelric leaned forward. “No Skolian would force people he cares for to return to a life of slavery.”

Jai wondered if the rumors were true, that the Imperator had married a former taskmaker. If so, Kelric would never agree to such a compromise. In this VR simulation Kelric could edit his responses however he wished, but even given that, Jai thought he detected an unusual degree of tension in the stoic Imperator.

Jai spoke slowly, thinking it through. “Perhaps a statute of limitations could apply to the return. After a certain amount of time, if the Eubian is still in Skolian territory, she may remain.” He used “she” deliberately, thinking of Kelric’s wife.

“How long?” Dyhianna asked.

“Ten years,” Tarquine said.

Kelric didn’t bother to edit out his look of disgust. “No.”

“Ten days,” Dyhianna said.

Tarquine raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know absurdity was an imperial trait, Pharaoh Dyhianna.”

From what Jai had heard, Kelric had married a woman who had helped him reach Earth. That would have been over three months ago.

“Three months,” Jai said. “If the Eubian is in Skolian territory after that time, she can apply for asylum.”

Tarquine’s voice came over his private channel. “That is no way to bargain, Jaibriol. Hold out for longer.”

“They won’t agree to longer,” he said.

“You have to push it harder.”

They all sat, considering one another. As the silence stretched to the breaking point, Jai feared they had reached a deadlock.

Then Dyhianna spoke, her voice heavy. “A flawed treaty is better than none at all, when the alternative could very well be mutual annihilation.”

“Good gods!” Tarquine’s voice came on Jai’s private channel. “Is that what it sounds like, that she might negotiate? If we can find a way to talk about this, we might actually make progress.” She sounded so stunned, Jai wondered if she had ever believed the talks could accomplish anything.

“I hope so,” Jai told her. He kept his simulacrum silent, aware of Kelric studying him. He didn’t know what to think of the Imperator: enemy, uncle, rival? In another life, he might have sought out Kelric as a father figure after his own father died, but this was the only life he had, and Corbal was the closest he would ever come to a mentor.

Just as Jai started to answer the Pharaoh, the voice of an EI came over his private channel. “Your Highness, you have a priority transmission from Glory.”

Jai paused. Everyone was waiting for him to respond to Dyhianna. “Who is it from?” he asked the EI privately.

“Robert Muzeson. He says it is an emergency.”

“Tell him we’re in the middle of an important session.”

“Muzeson didn’t think it could wait, Your Highness.”

Jai knew Robert wouldn’t interrupt him without good reason, but the timing couldn’t have been worse.

Tarquine spoke over the private channel. “Jaibriol, you must answer the Pharaoh. She just offered the opening we’ve hoped for.”

“I’m getting a page from Robert.” To the EI, Jai said, “Relay the message to myself and Empress Tarquine.”

Robert’s voice came in his ear. “Your Highness, you are needed immediately on Glory.”

“That’s it?” Jai asked.

“That is all,” the EI said.

Kelric was scrutinizing him even harder now. “Emperor Jaibriol?”

Jai knew he had to make a decision. “I’m receiving a transmission from Glory. I regret that I must invoke a temporary close to these proceedings.”

Tarquine swore on his private channel. “Don’t do this! Robert can wait. We may not get an opening like this again.”

“This is rather sudden,” Dyhianna said.

“Please accept my apologies,” Jai said. Before Tarquine could curse at him for apologizing to a provider, he spoke to his wife on the private channel. “Robert wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important.”

Kelric said, “We can have our Protocol Office set up a new session with your Protocol people.”

Jai nodded. “That would be good.”

“Ah, hell,” Tarquine muttered privately. “Once Protocol gets involved, it will take forever.”

Dyhianna was studying Jai. “I hope all is well.”

So do I,
Jai thought.

After the requisite formalities, Jai and Tarquine took their leave. They split up outside the conference room, and he returned to the white chamber where he always “arrived” in Paris. As its walls faded, he became aware of voices, techs talking in the console room on Glory.

Light flared as a tech removed the visor over his eyes. He could see the console room now. As the techs unfastened him from the chair, Jai stood up. Tarquine was standing in the center of her console a few meters away, being checked by medics. As soon as Jai’s medics finished with him, he strode toward the exit of the room. Tarquine joined him, accompanied by their ubiquitous Razers.

After they left the VR room, Jai spoke into his wrist comm. “Robert?”

“I’m in your office, Your Highness.”

“Why did you interrupt the session?”

“Perhaps we should speak here,” Robert said.

Jai put his hand over the comm and glanced at Tarquine. “Do you have any idea what this is about?”

She shook her head. “None.”

Bile rose in his throat, but he fought it down. Had someone tried to kill him while he was in the VR sim? Or maybe ESComm had followed the example of their Skolian counterparts and overthrown his government. Right now he might be a prisoner of the military he was supposed to command. He doubted he would fare as well as the Skolian First Councilor.

“I wonder if I’m still emperor,” Jai muttered.

Tarquine drew him to a stop. “I have taken precautions in case we ever need to leave the palace quickly.”

He swallowed, aware of the Razers forming a bulwark around them, one that had never seemed benign and now felt like a prison. “Yes. Make your precautions ready.”

They set off again, with Tarquine talking into her comm. It sounded as if she was just checking her net mail, but Jai didn’t question her. Either she had created a cover to disguise her commands or else she had lied. He chose to believe the former, mainly because he didn’t have much choice.

At Jai’s office, he and Tarquine left the Razers outside and went in alone, closing the entrance behind them. Jai was surprised to see Corbal standing behind the desk. The desk itself glimmered with a river of hieroglyphics flowing across its surface.

Corbal looked up, his face drawn. Robert was standing behind the Xir lord, a palmtop clenched in his hand, watching Jai with quiet horror.

Jai’s pulse ratcheted up. “What is it?”

Corbal moved back. “You had better see for yourself.”

Jai went around the desk, focusing on the glyphs streaming across its black top. “This looks like some sort of offworld transmission.”

“It’s from a ship that just entered the system,” Corbal said at his side. “If it had dropped out of inversion any closer to Glory, it would have violated the regulations against using star drives too close to a settled planet.”

Tarquine came to the front of the desk and peered at the glyphs. “I can’t read them upside down. They’re going too fast.”

“The ship started broadcasting the moment it arrived.” Corbal’s voice had a strange quality, as if he were struggling to contain a reaction. “The message is on a secured ESComm channel.”