The Moon's Shadow (37 page)

Jai went cold. “This is from an ESComm ship?”

Corbal nodded. “Yes.”

Jai studied the message, which was encoded in all three dimensions of the glyphs. With the node implanted in his spine analyzing the message, it didn’t take him long to absorb its meaning.

He read the message four more times to make sure.

Jai slowly sat down in the chair. “Gods.” He swallowed. “Gods almighty.”

It wasn’t until he looked up and saw Robert’s dismay that Jai realized he had spoken in Iotic, the language of the Skolian nobility. Robert had served as a translator; he would recognize not only the language, but how well Jai spoke it. In his childhood Jai had tended to think in Iotic rather than Highton. Apparently under stress he still did. And he spoke it perfectly, with no accent. Yes, any Highton could study Iotic. Every Qox emperor had spoken it. Jai might even learn it well. But no true Highton would revert to perfect Iotic when he was in shock.

Robert shot a panicked look at Corbal and Tarquine, knowing they had heard. But they simply continued to watch Jai with neutral expressions. Neither said a word.

Jai rose to his feet, his hand resting on his desk, the glyphs flowing around his fingers.

Tarquine spoke quietly. “What does it say?”

He answered with a numbness he knew wouldn’t last long. “Admiral Xirad Kaliga and General Kryx Taratus, the Joint Commanders of ESComm, are dead.”

She didn’t even blink. “How?”

When Jai saw her lack of surprise, a chill went through him. “Taratus assassinated Kaliga.” The news felt like dust in his mouth. “Lord Raziquon was on Kaliga’s yacht when it exploded.” He glanced at Robert, his voice hardening. “Apparently my order rescinding Raziquon’s pardon never reached the High Judge.”

Robert blanched. “I will look into it, Your Highness.”

“You do that,” Jai said coldly.

“How did Taratus die?” Tarquine asked.

Jai turned to her, feeling as if he were in a surreal painting. “The Raziquon and Kaliga Lines discovered what they considered irrefutable evidence that the Taratus Line had assassinated their lords. So they retaliated. They shot Taratus.”

“Gods.” Even she seemed stunned. “They moved fast.”

“Didn’t they now.” Jai remembered her delayed arrival at the peace talks. And Kaliga had never showed up. Jai’s heart was beating so hard, he felt it in his whole body. “This will cripple ESComm. It could throw Eube into chaos.”

“You must appoint new commanders as fast as possible,” Corbal said.

“Astonishing, that.” Jai continued to stare at Tarquine. He didn’t know how he kept his voice calm. He wanted to scream. “Now I must choose two new Joint Commanders.”

“So you must.” Fierce satisfaction sparked on her face.

“You must call an investigation,” Robert said.

Jai glanced at him. He still couldn’t believe Robert had betrayed him. He couldn’t absorb any of this. Yet.

Corbal motioned at the glyphs scrolling across Jai’s desk. “According to that, an investigation has already been done and evidence produced.”

“Evidence can be faked,” Jai said.

“For an accusation of this magnitude?” Corbal gave him an incredulous look. “It would be impossible. Kaliga and Taratus were too powerful.”

“Almost impossible.” Jai turned to Tarquine.
“Almost.”

“I believe the operative word is ‘impossible,’” she murmured.

“Is that right?” It wasn’t until Jai’s hand began to ache that he realized he was clenching the desktop, his fingers stiffened into a claw.

“Apparently so.” No chink showed in her cool demeanor. “No one would dare make such an accusation without proof.” She stepped forward and rested her hands on his desk, submerging them in the river of glyphs. “You must act quickly to avoid a disaster. Select new commanders.”

He had to make a conscious effort not to clench his teeth. “And I’ve no doubt you can offer me advice on that.”

“Of course.”

It astonished Jai that he wasn’t shaking with anger as he turned to Corbal. “No doubt you have advice, too.”

His cousin inclined his head. “If it pleases Your Highness, I can offer my humble thoughts on the matter.”

Humble, hell.
Jai felt as if the world had gone silent, muffled by his shock. With icy formality, he nodded to Corbal and Tarquine. “I will speak to you both later.”

Although neither looked pleased to be dismissed, they didn’t seem surprised. Jai had his Razers escort them from the office. But just before she left, Tarquine turned back to him. “Husband.”

“Yes?”

“Your speech is exalted,” she said softly. “Never forget.”

Jai swallowed. Never forget.
Never again speak your mother’s tongue.
Hotness filled his eyes, but damned if he would let his grief show—and he would turn to ashes in hell before he mourned Taratus or Kaliga.

None of the Razers even blinked at her comment. Why should they? Given the megalomaniacal way Hightons spoke about themselves, her “compliment” was mild. Only he, Corbal, and Robert understood its true meaning.

When everyone had left but Robert, Jai lowered himself into his chair and rested his elbows on the desk. Putting his forehead in his hands, he closed his eyes. He wished he could float away, out the window, free.

Robert spoke. “Your Highness, may I help you?”

Weary, Jai lifted his head. “It is so odd, Robert, that Lord Raziquon happened to be aboard Admiral Kaliga’s yacht when it exploded. I wonder how he received his pardon after I refused to grant it.”

“I will do my utmost to discover how such a terrible mistake occurred.”

“Yes, do your utmost.” Jai swiveled his chair around to him. “So, Robert my trusty aide, do you also find my speech exalted?”

His aide met his gaze squarely. “Yes.”

“Just ‘Yes’?” Jai raised an eyebrow. “No, ‘Yes, Your Most Supremo Emperor’? What happened to that glib tongue of yours?”

Sweat sheened Robert’s forehead. He went down on one knee and bowed his head. “I revere you now and always, and will attend you with the greatest loyalty.”

Jai clenched the arms of his chair. “Don’t kneel to me.”

Robert rose to his feet. “I wish only to serve you.”

“Then serve me. Not my wife.”

He averted his gaze. “Yes, sir.”

Jai knew, from Robert’s mind, that his aide had acted in what he believed was Jai’s best interest. What stunned Jai more, though, was that Robert never intended to question his lapse into Iotic. He would serve his emperor even if he had reason to believe that emperor might be other than what he claimed.

“We have a great deal of work ahead of us,” Jai said.

“We should get started.”

“Shall I see to the investigation into the deaths of Admiral Kaliga and General Taratus?”

“Yes.” Jai stood up, rising to his full height, half a head taller than Robert. “But first, I would like to know where my wife went.”

Robert checked his palmtop. “She is in the arbor of the North Garden.” He started to say more, then seemed to think better of it.

“What is it?” Jai asked.

His aide took a shaky breath. “I am immensely grateful, Your Highness, that the empress is not our enemy.”

Softly Jai said, “So am I.”

J
ai stood with his siblings in the pew of the church. For the first two Christmases they had spent on Earth, they had come here with Seth to celebrate the holiday. It had become special to them because it meant so much to him.

But this third year was different. This year, on newscasts that played over and over, they had watched their parents die. Time after time, Jai saw the shuttle bearing his mother and father explode; time after time, he saw debris hurtle through space, the detonation recorded by hundreds of other ships during battle. His parents, who had dreamed of peace, had died for their hope. The scene replayed endlessly, everywhere, in a horrible parody of the peace that this season was supposed to bring.

His grief was too big. He had never been able to weep.

Now he stood with his sister, Rocalisa, and his brothers, Vitar and Del-Kelric. Lisi was almost fifteen now, her pretty face much like their grandmother’s, Roca Skolia. At ten, Vitar was growing like a sprout, his black hair streaked with gold, his eyes red. Four-year-old Del-Kelric resembled a cherub, but with ruby sparkles in his gold eyes.

They were listening to the priest say Mass when the double doors of the church creaked. Jai glanced back, uneasy. The church held hundreds of pews, and he was near the front, far from the doors, so he couldn’t see clearly. It looked like a man was in the foyer, but the darkness beyond the doors made it hard to make out anyone who hadn’t entered the main church.

Then the man came all the way inside—and Jai’s pulse leapt. Outfitted in the full battle armor of a cybernetic warrior, the man carried a laser carbine.

When the priest went silent, staring at the back of the church, the members of the congregation looked as well. The church was packed for the holiday service, which meant hundreds of people were turning to the soldier.

He wasn’t alone.

More warriors filed in, boots clanking, guns glinting. The priest walked to the rail that separated the area where he said Mass from the main church, but when he tried to step out, a soldier moved quickly to him and put out his hand to stop the older man.

Sweat beaded on Jai’s forehead. A soldier was coming up the central aisle, carrying a laser carbine. Jai recognized his armor: the man was a Skolian Jagernaut. He kept coming, nearer and nearer, his tread relentless.

Jai felt as if he were dying inside. He had no doubt why these soldiers had come. He stepped to the end of the pew, putting himself in front of Lisi, Vitar, and Del-Kelric. He was aware of Seth moving to the other end of their line, so he and Jai bracketed the younger children.

The Jagernaut stopped at their pew and stared at Jai, making no attempt to hide his shock.

Seth spoke in a firm voice. “These children have political asylum. You cannot touch them.”

Jai wondered what good political asylum would do against so many armed warriors.

“Gods almighty,” the soldier whispered, more to himself, it seemed, than to Jai or Seth. Then he spoke into the comm on his gauntleted wrist. “All four of them are here.”

A sinking sensation spread in Jai, deepened by a sorrow greater than he knew how to handle. The soldier turned toward the back of the church. The doors were open, both those to the foyer and the doors that led outside. It was night. Light from the outdoor lamps slanted through the dark foyer, silhouetting two figures entering the church.

Then the two entered the light, and Jai’s sense of time slowed down. They seemed to walk in slow motion, a woman in a dusty black commando uniform with a carbine slung over her shoulder, and a man in Highton clothes that had once been elegant and now were ripped and rumpled. Two people—

Two achingly familiar people.

Jai heard Del-Kelric cry out, but in his shock he didn’t move fast enough. The small boy squeezed by even as Jai grabbed for him. Then Del-Kelric was running down the aisle, oblivious to the armed intruders, his face radiant.

As warriors all over the church whipped up their guns, the soldier at Jai’s pew yelled, “Don’t shoot!” In that same instant, the woman in the commando uniform shouted into her wrist comm, “
Hold your fire.
”

Del-Kelric ran on, oblivious to the firestorm of laser shots he had nearly started, his pudgy arms extended, his face wreathed in smiles. Then Vitar and Lisi pushed past Jai and raced down the aisle as well, Vitar’s long legs devouring the distance, Lisi’s hair streaming behind her. Jai couldn’t move. He couldn’t break the icy shock that had frozen him.

The man in the ripped Highton clothes went down on one knee—Jaibriol II, the Emperor of Eube, was kneeling, reaching to a little boy. Del-Kelric barreled into him, throwing his arms around the emperor’s neck, his father, at the same time reaching for the woman in the commando uniform, his mother, Soz Valdoria, the Imperator of Skolia. Then Lisi and Vitar reached them, and the two rulers gathered their children close, everyone crying as they embraced, uncaring that hundreds of strangers and armed soldiers were watching their reunion.

Jai finally walked down the aisle. Two steps away from his family, he stopped, unable to continue. They all gazed at him, his father holding Del-Kelric in one arm and his other arm around Vitar’s shoulders. Lisi stood next to their mother, tears on her face.

Jai couldn’t speak. For the past two years he had seen his parents vilified on the news as brutal tyrants who had broken two empires. Were these the parents who had given their children such a deep, abiding love?

Yes.

Seeing them now, Jai knew that whatever the rest of humanity chose to believe, he would always have the truth. They were the two best people he had ever known. He stepped forward and they took him into their arms.

So he held his family, his mother, father, brothers, sister, his tears streaming as they rejoiced…

Jai opened his eyes into darkness, his face wet. Grief wrenched through him. The dream wasn’t real. Yes, he and his siblings had gone with Seth to church that last Christmas, but no miracle had occurred. His parents hadn’t come home.

Finally, after so long, he cried. He couldn’t stop. The tears tore out of him, his mourning as raw as a new wound. He was alone. Tarquine had already risen, as she often did. Sometimes she woke him, her touch sensual in the dark hours, but this time she had been wise enough to leave him alone. He didn’t want to touch his dangerous wife, not tonight.

So Jai wept. The tears released, giving way to the sorrow he had locked within himself for so long.

Kelric waited on the balcony of the apartment that Dehya and Eldrin kept in the city on the Orbiter. The great lamp that served as a “sun” had completed its arc across the sky and now night filled the spherical habitat, lit by star lamps that sparkled in the hemisphere above them.

Standing at the rail, he gazed at the graceful bridges and buildings below. As he took a swallow of his drink, a rustle came from behind him. Then Dehya joined him.

“I’ve always loved this view,” she said.

“It is beautiful.”

For a while they stood appreciating the city. Strains of music came from within the apartment, as Eldrin worked on his latest composition.

“Do you believe he did it?” Dehya asked.

Kelric didn’t need to ask whom she meant. “No, I don’t think so.” He doubted they would ever know the truth, but he didn’t believe Jaibriol Qox had killed his Joint Commanders.

“I’m not sure I believe they assassinated each other,” Dehya said.

“Why not?” Gods knew, Hightons spent an inordinate amount of time plotting against one another.

“It’s hard to explain.” Her face was pensive in the silvery light. “Intuition, maybe, or the calculations I’ve been running on my neural nodes.” She tilted her head, listening. Eldrin’s voice graced the night, soaring into high notes, then dropping into deep, rumbling tones. Softly she said, “I should so like to make the stars safe for the people I love.”

Kelric thought of Jeejon, captivated by the VR arcade he had built for her. “I also.”

“Perhaps hope exists for the talks after all.”

He felt less optimism. “Even if the emperor forbids the raids, I doubt he can enforce such a law.”

Dehya sighed. “Nor can I imagine any Skolian sending escaped slaves back to Eube.”

Kelric thought of Jeejon. “Nor I.”

“I hate the suggested compromise.”

“Yet still we negotiate.”

She spoke with pain. “Perhaps it is because we hope this treaty will lay the first stones in a path that leads to compromises we can better accept.”

Seeing her face luminous in the starlight, he thought that here, in the forgiving night of home, she was willing to hope. He didn’t yet dare give in to that gossamer dream.

“Perhaps someday,” he said.

Dehya sipped her drink. “It may take decades. Half a century. But perhaps someday.”

“Why half a century?”

“The models I’ve been running predict something then. Lightning?”

“A storm?”

“I don’t know. But changes will come.”

Kelric looked out over the city sparkling in the night. “He is unusual, this new emperor of Eube.”

“A miracle,” Dehya murmured.

“Maybe.” It was as far as he could go in speaking his wish for peace. He had seen too much of the ugliness humanity produced to believe the Traders could ever change.

But deep within his heart, hope stirred.

Jai knew he had to face Tarquine. He could put it off no longer. In the day that had passed since the deaths of Kaliga and Taratus, he had barely had time to breathe, let alone talk to his wife. But he couldn’t avoid this forever. When Robert told him she had gone to one of the palace gardens, Jai went in search of her.

Fog wreathed the grounds. He couldn’t see the sky, where the moons G4 and G5 shone. He knew now how he would surface G5, Tarquine’s moon. As a geode: steel-diamond on the exterior, brilliant crystals underneath, knife-edged but startling in their beauty. He had also chosen a name for his mother’s moon. Prism. It was what his family had called the world where they had lived in exile for fifteen years, the place where he had been happy and loved. If asked, he would say it was what his father called the sanctuary where Jai and his mother had lived in seclusion.

He followed an overgrown path that wound through a lush woods, with hoary trees on either side, and trellises covered by vines heavy with silver, blue, and rose flowers. Walkways crisscrossed the garden. Deeper in the woods, ancient trees leaned over a latticework tower, their branches dripping long fronds of moss. The tower was three stories tall.

Tarquine stood framed within an opening at the top.

Jai wondered how such beauty could exist amid such violence, both in Eube and in his wife. He entered the base of the tower, a circular area ten paces across, its lattice walls threaded by vines with curling tendrils. He stopped at the stairs that spiraled up around the inner wall and turned to the captain of his bodyguards. “You may wait here.”

The captain bowed. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

Jai started up the stairs, his hand on the rail. But after a few steps, he paused, looking down. “Captain.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“It would please me to know your name.”

“I haven’t one.”

“Nothing at all?”

“I have a serial number. Would you like that?”

Sadness filled Jai. To grieve for a living being designed to be more machine than man hurt at a level too deep for him to define. He spoke his younger brother’s name. “Vitar.”

The captain’s forehead furrowed. “Your Highness?”

“You have a name now,” Jai said. “Vitar.” The Razer resembled Jai’s younger brother. “If I had ever had a brother, I would have liked him to have that name.”

The captain’s gaze widened, giving lie to the serial number that labeled him as a machine. “I am honored.”

Jai tried to smile, but he couldn’t. He inclined his head, then resumed climbing. His Razers stayed below, monitoring his progress on their cybernetic arms.

The staircase ended at the third level. Tarquine was a few paces away, her back to him, her black-garbed figure silhouetted against the overcast sky. Mist curled around her legs.

Jai went to stand with his wife.

Tarquine turned to him. “You look well today.”

He wondered if he would ever be well again. “So do you.” That much was true. She was devastating. Such cold, deadly beauty.

“Have you heard news from the Skolians?” she asked.

“Yes.” In the muffled day, Jai felt unnaturally quiet. “They have agreed to resume the talks.” He thought of General Barthol Iquar, Tarquine’s nephew, and of Admiral Erix Muze, the grandson of High Judge Calope Muze. “Both of ESComm’s new Joint Commanders have sworn to support the talks. General Barthol will attend.”

“Good.” Dark satisfaction showed in Tarquine’s gaze.

Jai wondered if he even knew how to define
good
anymore. “My security people found evidence of a message that Admiral Kaliga sent from his hospital room in the palace. It was well hidden. It took them a long time to uncover it.”

“A message?” Her face was inscrutable.

“To Raziquon’s kin. It includes reference to Kaliga’s involvement in the attempts against my life.”

“So,” Tarquine murmured. “Kaliga implicated himself.”

Jai didn’t believe for a moment Kaliga had sent the message. Someone else had been in the admiral’s room during that crucial time. Whoever it had been would never speak, and no neural scan of the admiral’s brain could prove his innocence now.

He wanted to ask Tarquine the questions that burned within him. Why had she gone to such drastic lengths to further peace talks she had never seemed to want in the first place? Had she done it for Kelric? But he didn’t know if he could bear to hear her answers.

He said only, “Without opposition from Kaliga, Taratus, or Raziquon, we may establish a treaty with the Skolians.”

“The newscasts are already calling it the Paris Accord.”

His voice caught. “So I’ve heard.”

She searched his face. “Are you happy, Jaibriol? It is what you wanted, yes?”

“Yes.” He had dreamed of it. He should rejoice. And he did feel a bittersweet joy. But he had never expected it to come at the price of murder. That Tarquine had told him nothing of her plans made no difference; unknowing or not, he was responsible.