Alien Indiscretions (45 page)

Jessica sat to the right of Clajak, the expression on her elfin face impassive as Maf continued to argue for indictments. That alone was a sign to the public that things were not well. Clajak’s beloved mate had no problem letting councilmen know when she was displeased with them. People watched council meetings with the Imperial Clan much as a sport because of her. They loved to see their feisty little Earther empress rip apart the arguments of her opposition. That she kept herself under iron control while Maf sneered over the ‘evil intent’ of his targets, men she cared for, showed she knew her opinions would not be welcome in the present atmosphere.

Clajak did not try to fool himself about what they were on the brink of. Civil unrest waited to spring to life, urged on by untraceable transmissions from the Basma. Demonstrations were already planned. Clajak had no doubt riots could soon follow. With the angry mood of the Empire’s populace, injuries were all too expected. Maybe even deaths.

From there, it was not so difficult to imagine civil war. The Empire would be broken, torn apart in a horrid cataclysm of fury. And the Earthers who had come to Kalquor, fleeing first a government that allowed no personal freedoms and then the atrocity of Armageddon – what would happen to them?

They came here looking for happiness and security, all the wonderful things we promised. Will this snatch it away? Are we all doomed after everything we and they have done to survive?

Equal measures of cheers and heckling came from the public gallery as councilmen rose from their seats to challenge Maf’s accusations. Clajak glanced up at those who he led, those it was the Imperial Clan’s job to guide, protect, and care for. Were the two sides as evenly balanced throughout the Empire? Was this small sampling representative of the division of Kalquor?

More and more councilmen rose to their feet to argue with each other. Clajak noted one man who kept quiet however; Councilman Diltan. The man watched the proceedings, his handsome face despondent. No doubt he brooded over how it was he who had brought all this ugliness to light.

Clajak didn’t blame Diltan for the mess, however. That responsibility lay with others. The proof of wrongdoing, particularly by Zarl and Yuder, could not be denied. Diltan had done what he was supposed to. He had acted with unfailing honor on the matter, as well as circumspection.

Clajak had little to console himself with, so he clung to the nuggets of brightness that he could find. Diltan was one of these small bits. The usually ambitious councilman had been working with Jessica on the one mote of hope they had of keeping the Empire from ripping itself apart. Once something of an irritating sycophant, Diltan had emerged as the staunchest ally to the Empire’s survival.

Dramok Maf however ... Clajak’s gaze narrowed as he took in the bent form of the man shouting down all the rest. Maf had seemingly made it his life’s mission to destroy their home’s peace. It was Maf who trotted out the evidence with disgusting glee. It was Maf who shouted for justice no matter the price. On and on he went, ramping up the rhetoric. He cried for truth, but his arguments were for nothing less than revolt. Despite his devastated body, twisted from birth, Clajak had never seen Maf as ugly. However the man’s revealed fanaticism was pure vileness.

It took all of Clajak’s determined self control to not let his lips curl at Maf’s continued diatribe. “...and now the Galactic Council of Planets has renewed its call on us to reveal the truth of these horrid crimes against Earth. Our reputation as a realm of justice has been called into question by the other worlds. We no longer have a choice. We must bow our proud heads. We must accept that our leaders have defamed our glorious legacy. We must give them the satisfaction of seeing us fall to our knees in shame. Even though our name be tarnished, we cannot fail to do what is right. We must avenge the deaths of billions of Earthers, killed by our own monarchy! We must have justice for the loss of our birthright by the forced interbreeding with a lesser species!”

His eyes were hectic with victory, his face flushed as he looked around. He seemed pleased as shouts for and against his words erupted anew. The widening rift of his people seemed a cause for joy, a thought that sickened Clajak.

The man had held the floor long enough, Clajak decided. The Dramok Emperor stood up tall, as if his soul didn’t feel beaten down by all that must come. His clan stood with him, just as straight, just as silent.

It took a few moments for everyone to notice. The screaming lessened bit by bit, blowing itself out until there was silence. All eyes were on the Imperial Clan. Clajak sensed the Empire waiting with held breath, frightened but eager to know what came next

Clajak let that silence spin out for a few moments before he spoke. He drew a deep breath to keep his voice steady. Like Jessica, he could not give in to an emotional response, not when so much weighed on his every motion, his every word.

His voice echoed in the vast chamber. “That we would bring the three accused men before the Galactic Council is beside the point for the purposes of this vote. We will concentrate for now on our own laws and justice. Nothing else at this time matters.

“The Royal Council has heard and reviewed the evidence against Imperial Father Nobek Yuder of Clan Zarl, as well as Dramoks Ospar and Rajhir. You will now vote on whether these men, and these three men alone, will stand trial. You will do so based on the evidence before you.” His intent gaze swept over the blue-robed men of the council. “I remind you all that this is no matter for sentimentality. Make no mistake; the Empire is watching and will judge you for your actions this day. Our people will voice their opinion on your conduct and hold you accountable. Let it be done.”

The Imperial Clan remained on their feet as the councilmen hunched over the handhelds that would record their votes. Clajak was not surprised to see the numbers for Yes and No on the overhead vids count up slowly and evenly balanced.

Little by little, the results tallied. The gallery muttered and calls rose as first one side gained advantage and then the other. It was going to be close, Clajak realized.

His feelings on the matter were mixed. Rajhir was a good man. Ospar had a history of being somewhat underhanded in his dealings, but his goal was always for the good of the Empire. And the thought of his own father Yuder standing before a panel of judges ... dread dropped like a stone in Clajak’s stomach. He did not want to see any of them harmed. It was unthinkable.

Yet if they did not stand trial, all hell would break loose. Clajak knew it for a fact. Men he cared about and their clans must face potential disaster in order for Kalquor to survive. There was no other way. That meant if the council did not vote to indict, Clajak and his clanmates must overrule. He would be forced to call for trial himself.

The knot in his stomach eased only a little as the vote for indictment gained ground. He would not have to call for his father’s prosecution. It wasn’t much to be spared from, but he grasped it as he did all the other little pieces of light in the growing darkness.

At last the final vote was counted. Clajak bowed to the cluster of blue-robed men before him.

“The Royal Council has made the difficult decision. You have affirmed that there is no honor without truth. There is no Empire without truth. We must have the truth, no matter how ugly its face may be. Nobek Yuder, Dramok Rajhir, and Dramok Ospar will stand trial. The Legal Committee will take charge of the case from this moment. This council is adjourned.”

Shouts and arguments renewed both on the council floor and in the gallery. A small contingent of Global Security officers entered the chamber to assist the Royal Guards should violence break out.

Clajak didn’t wait to find out if fists would start flying. With Egilka leading and Bevau watching over their clan with fangs and a knife ready, Clajak gathered Jessica to his side. They left the mayhem under heavy guard.

* * * *

Wal was in the middle of researching case precedent over ongoing litigation when the sound he’d dreaded went off: his door announce. He straightened in his hover chair and bookmarked the document before closing it. He licked his suddenly dry lips.

“Yes?”

The voice that spoke was the one he’d feared hearing. “It’s Onziv, Wal.”

The Imdiko drew a breath to steady his pounding heart. He rose and called, “Come in.”

The door opened to admit highest ranking judge on Kalquor. Wal exchanged bows with Dramok Onziv.

Once that respectful pleasantry was out of the way, his visitor did not mince words. “An indictment has been handed down for Imperial Father Yuder, as well as the other two men.”

His heart sinking, Wal motioned for Onziv to take the seat on the other side of his curved desk. “As we suspected it would be.”

He eyed the senior judge as the man took the seat. Onziv looked his part. Intelligent, resourceful, of unimpeachable honor ... all these qualities seemed to be spelled out on his strong and pleasant features. No one had ever questioned the Dramok’s right to preside over the Empire’s highest court.

He was also a friend that Wal had found he could express any concerns to. He did so immediately. “Onziv, I cannot sit on this case. My clan vies for the Earther lifebringer Cecilia Salter, Empress Jessica’s cousin.”

Onziv’s gaze was steady and kind, though full of regret. “I am aware of your situation, Wal. I am aware ... and I am sorry. Daha fell ill last night and was hospitalized.”

He referred to the eldest of the high court’s judges. Dramok Daha had been in poor health for the past year. It was no surprise to hear he was yet again recovering from some ailment. That it had happened now of all times told Wal he could not avoid the call of his duty.

Onziv continued, his strong voice softened with consideration. “With Nalp and Yij dealing with cases off-planet, you must sit on this trial. I cannot spare you.”

A flare of desperation went off in Wal’s breast. “Surely the case can wait until one of them returns?”

Patient as always, his friend said, “The Imperial Clan has called for an immediate trial. There is too much unrest following the accusations leveled by Councilman Maf and the Ethics Committee. The matter must be dealt with as quickly as is feasible. Even if you haven’t been paying attention to the growing anger ... and I know you have ... your Dramok would have apprised you of the situation.”

Wal could only sit in his misery. He knew what must happen now. For him to preside over the case, his clan would have to give up their suit for Cissy.

Onziv’s face scrunched up, as if he had felt a sudden pain. “By the ancestors, this cousin of Empress Jessica is the one for your clan, isn’t she?”

It was hard to think when Wal’s gut hurt so much. Yes, Cissy was the one for him and his clan. He was in love with her. Right now, that love tore him apart as it became apparent he might lose her.

Onziv looked almost as miserable as Wal felt. “Perhaps when this trial is over—”

“Who knows how long that will take?” Wal burst out. The pain was no longer in just his gut. His whole body ached. “One minute is too long to not be a part of her life.”

He stared at his desktop, unable to look at the man who was taking away the last vital piece of the puzzle that made up Wal’s happiness. Cissy’s truce with Diltan had grown into affection. She seemed as happy with their clan as they were with her. Yet there had been no words of love spoken, no way to know if her feelings approached the intensity of Wal’s. She might wait for them until this mess was over and they were able to take up their suit once more. Then again, she might not. The trial could last months. While Wal sat on the panel listening to evidence and arguments, other clans would pursue his Matara.

More pain thundered through him as his pulse thudded in his head and his jaw clenched tight. The thought of Cissy – his Cissy – with another clan put him in agony as physical as it was emotional.

Onziv’s tone was pure sympathy. “I am sorry I can’t spare you this, Wal. We must put our duty first, however.”

“What of my duty to the woman I love?” Anger made him glare at his friend like an avowed enemy. “I should have Diltan clan her right away so the case will be forced to wait until someone else is available.”

Onziv’s expression hardened, becoming much like that of a strict father. “Wal, an entire platoon turned on their company commander yesterday. The reason they gave was because his clan’s Matara is an Earther. She came to them through the lottery, but his men were screaming ‘abductor’ and ‘traitor’ as they beat him. He barely escaped with his life.”

Wal blinked, his momentary rage quelled.

Onziv slammed a fist on the desk surface. “This matter has the Empire going crazy. More and more people are calling for Kalquorians to follow the Basma. Violence is breaking out all over the planet. This issue cannot wait. You must do what is right for the Empire before yourself or we may very well lose it.”

He was right. Wal knew it, though it sickened him to give Cissy up. Yet there was only one thing he could do.

“I will sit on the panel with no further argument. Forgive my lack of integrity.”

Onziv snorted something that sounded like a cross between a sob and a growl. “Don’t be ridiculous, my friend. There is nothing to forgive. When you have been blessed with a lifebringer, everything else seems insignificant.”

Onziv had clanned an Earther Matara last year. Of course he knew the agony Wal felt at this moment. Being denied the woman who made one’s heart beat was a nightmare no one would want to live through.

Yet Wal had to do so. Somehow he managed to choke, “Thank you for understanding.”

Onziv’s usually strong voice had gone feeble. “Good luck, Wal. I hope she waits for you.”

So do I.
Wal had never wanted a drink as badly as he did at this moment.

* * * *

An hour later, Wal’s clanmates sat at the empty table in the visitor’s conversation area of his office. Rolat sat straight up, his legs crossed before him, looking as strong as ever. However, his expression was despondent.