The Final Key: Part Two of Triad (37 page)

Eldrinson spoke formally, always self-conscious with these officers who looked female but acted male. "My greetings, Imperator Majda." His gaze shifted to his grandson and his smile warmed. "And to you, Taqui."

The boy smiled wanly. His face was pale and dark circles showed under his eyes.

Majda said, "My honor at your presence, Your Majesty." In her shadowed voice she added, "I am Imperator no longer."

"Then it is true? Kurj lives?" He had no wish to see his stepson die, not because he had any abiding love for Kurj, but because it would upset Roca.

"Yes." Majda came forward, her dark eyes intent. "When you formed the Triad, it brought him out of his coma."

And he had feared he would kill Kurj. He wanted to know more, but not now. He had a more urgent question. "My wife?"

Majda hesitated. "She is on Lyshriol."

The relief that flooded him was so intense, he couldn't speak. She was home. His rage flared as he thought of the Aristos who had tortured her. He wanted them to die. Slowly.

Excruciatingly. But their ship was undoubtedly in ESComm territory. They would go free—for now. Someday he would find them. Someday they would pay.

He recovered his voice. "Do you know who captured her?"

Majda answered quietiy. "The heirs of Lord Vitarex."

Eldrinson felt as if an iron fist hit him. Vitarex was the Aristo who had crippled and blinded him. They were probably furious Roca had escaped. Acutely aware of Taquinil, he strove to shield his anger from his grandson.

"So Vitarex had children," he said.

"Two." Majda wore that strange look they all had with him now: half fear, half awe. "You and your children pulled Councilor Roca out of their ship."

"But how?" Even having helped, Eldrinson didn't understand.

"We aren't sure," Majda admitted. "Somehow you transformed her into Kyle space and then transformed her back to Lyshriol. Your daughter Soz drew energy from the battle cruiser and shunted it through her Triad Chair."

"But that is impossible," Eldrinson said.

"Yes. It is." Wryly Majda added, "Nevertheless, you seem to have done it."

No wonder they were all watching him as if he had grown two heads. "Is Roca all right?"

Majda hesitated.

"Tell me," he said.

After a pause that lasted too long, the general said, "She has brain damage. A few memories remain of her family, but she has lost everything else."

"Surely you can help her." He had to believe that. They had helped him see and walk again.

"Her node claims to have stored her brain," Majda said. "It wishes to 'commence download.' But we don't know what that would do to her."

Eldrinson usually avoided thinking about the technological marvels his wife carried in her head, for fear it would make her seem less human, but he would do anything to have her back again. "Will you let it try?"

"Councilor Roca wishes to. But we need your permission."

It sobered him to think Roca could no longer act on her own behalf. "Is it safe?"

"We don't know," Majda said. "We're investigating."

He spoke slowly. "If she wishes it, I would be inclined to say yes. But I would know the results of your investigations first. I don't want her hurt any more."

Majda inclined her head. "We will keep you informed."

"When can I see her?"

"We have a ship for you." Majda glanced at Taquinil, and he met her gaze, his face uncertain. To Eldrinson, she said, "But can you stay here until Prince TaquhuTs parents return?"

"Yes. Certainly." As much as Eldrinson wanted to get home to Roca and his children, he didn't want his grandson to feel deserted. He smiled at the boy. "Gladly."

My hoshpa and noshma win be back soon, Taquinil thought They will.

I'm sure they will,
Eldrinson thought. To Majda, he said, "Where is Eldrin?"

Her expression shuttered. "We are searching every possible ID database."

"Why?" Eldrinson asked, baffled.

Taquinil answered, and his voice trembled. "He was in Selei City during the attack."

He stared at the boy, then at Majda. "My son is missingT

Majda answered quickly. "Chances are he is fine."

"Chances?" Eldrinson gave her an incredulous look. "How the holy blazes could you lose my son?"

"Grandhoshpa." Taquinil came over to him, and the techs moved aside for him. It impressed Eldrinson. Taquinil was one of the few people alive who felt no fear walking up to a Chair. The boy looked up at him. "Hoshpa is all right He was hurting. But he's getting better."

Eldrinson laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Do you know what happened?"

Taquinil shook his head. "I think he's all by himself."

Eldrinson glanced at Majda. "Where are Eldrin's bodyguards?"

"On Parthonia," Majda said. "They were caught by the sabotage when the Traders tried to deactivate the Jagernauts." She met his gaze. "We will find your son. I swear it."

First Althor, then Roca, now Eldrin. He knew it would help nothing if he lost his calm, but gods, it took a concentrated effort to keep from demanding they let him join the search. They were better equipped to find Eldrin, and he would only be in the way, but his instincts drove him to seek and protect his son no matter what the cost

He spoke stiffly. "Please inform me when you know more."

"Immediately" Majda said.

"If I can help in the meshes..." He could offer an aid none of their machines could match: the mind of a Rhon psion.

"Thank you," she said. "We may ask."

"What about my Hoshma?" Taquinil asked.

"Her Majesty had to travel in a shutde," Majda said. "It isn't designed for more than short trips, so it took longer than expected." She had an oddly cautious tone. "But they reached Safelanding."

"I am glad," Eldrinson said. That barely touched the surface of his gratitude. His presence in the Triad had affected it differently than anyone expected. He couldn't explain it in the mathematical terms Roca's people used, but he knew at an intuitive level that his mind occupied a different part of Kyle space than Dehya or Kurj. He was different from them. The same qualities he had that inspired such condescension among Roca's people also made it possible for him to form the Triad without killing any of its members.

"Is Dehya all right?" he asked.

Majda hesitated too long. "Yes."

"She was sick," Taquinil said. "They don't want to say it in front of me."

Majda seemed ready to deny the boy's words. Then she exhaled. "The pharaoh suffered the symptoms of a severe withdrawal. We don't know why; the medics at Safelanding found no sign of chemical dependency."

"My father was sick," Taquinil said. "I had ... dreams."

"Has your mother experienced his illnesses before?" Majda asked.

"All the time," Taquinil said. "We all share like that. But it's never strong." In a subdued voice, he added, "Unless the sickness is really bad."

"Did you feel anything?" she asked.

"Some," Taquinil said. "But Grandfather was protecting me."

"I'm sorry I can't tell you more," Majda said.

"He'll be all right." Taquinil sounded as if he were convincing himself more than them.

"I'm sure he will," the Bard said, and hoped it were true. He remembered his son Eldrin at this age; die boy had always wanted to run outdoors. Taquinil was a quieter child, studious instead of athletic. He loved math and logic; Eldrin had taken to swordplay and archery. Taquinil would probably become a scholar; Eldrin was a singer. But for all that, the father and son were much alike. Each had a luminous quality to his spirit, as if an inner light filled him. It was why people liked to be around them so much, but it also made them seem so very vulnerable.

Taquinil tried to smile at him. "You're body is normal again, Grandfather. You glowed in the War Room."

"You remember that?" Eldrinson asked. He wasn't certain what had been real and what an illusion.

The boy nodded. "Yes. And your voice echoed."

Eldrinson regarded him curiously. "What did I do after you and I talked?"

"You don't remember?"

"I'm afraid not"

"You spoke to the Chair. In your mind."

Majda said, "We brought you here, Your Majesty."

Eldrinson glanced at her. "The Chair wanted me to think I was in the War Room."

"Because of Uncle Kurj," Taquinil said.

Eldrinson stiffened. "Why Kurj?"

"Maybe so you could know him better," Taquinil said. "So you wouldn't always be angry at each other. You have to be a Triad."

Eldrinson wished he could hide his dislike of Kurj better. He didn't want to alienate Taquinil from his uncle. Eldrinson

would have liked a good relationship with his stepson, but it wasn't likely to happen.

Majda spoke thoughtfully. "Imperator Skolia uses the War Room far more than this Chamber. Maybe the Chair sought to reach him through you."

"Perhaps," Eldrinson said. The techs had finally finished poking him. Now they were brushing his hair and smoothing out wrinkles in his clothes. He glared at a woman with curly red hair. "You can stop that," he said. "I am fine."

She bowed to him. "Yes, Your Majesty." She and the others stepped back.

Eldrinson retrieved his glasses from his shirt pocket and put them on. Then he slid out of the Chair. The techs were watching with that careful attention everyone had with him today. He stood up and winced at the aches in his legs. He had sat in one position too long.

Taquinil took his hand, and Eklrinson hinged his palm around the boy's fingers. Then he took several steps. He .'limped more than usual, but he managed. The techs hovered I about, looking much too worried. He waved his hand at them, tand they backed off. At least they didn't patronize him like some of his doctors: We understand your confusion, you needn't worry, we will take care of it, just do what we say, as if he were too mentally slow to be treated like an adult

Today no one said anything. Instead they all bowed. Including Majda. Usually she seemed so stratospherically far above him, he wondered that she didn't asphyxiate from lack of air. Bewildered, he inclined his head.

The general indicated an exit beyond the graceful scaffolding that buttressed the chamber. "Shall we go?"

''Ctatainry." He didn't know where, but they couldn't loiter here all day.

They walked through the scaffolding and left the Chamber through an archway at the back. Too many people came with them: aides, medtechs, the Abaj. Outside, they followed a gold and bronze hall with tessellations engraved at waist height Graceful light rods bordered the ceiling, an effect Eldrinson liked better than Luminex, though he still preferred the stone and glasswood of his home.

The elegant corridor ended in a circular room with gold

walls graced by panels of holoart that glowed like stained-glass windows. The ceiling curved in a dome with a gold Lu-minex ball at its apex.

"This is beautiful," Eldrinson said.

"It is the foyer for the royal reception hall," Majda said.

"Isn't that where Dehya makes speeches?" Considering how diligendy she avoided public appearances and how rarely he visited the Orbiter, it didn't surprise Eldrinson he had never been here before.

"Yes," Majda said. "She speaks here. Also the Imperator." She paused. "And you."

He adjusted his spectacles. "Me?"

"The Triad."

The impact of his situation finally hit Eldrinson. Until this moment, he had unconsciously assumed his presence in the Triad was temporary, a desperate act ISC would undo after he completed his duty. But that was wrong. A Key couldn't leave the powerlink. Pulling out his mind would disrupt so many neural connections, it would kill him. In the past, that explanation had seemed abstract, but now he sensed it within himself. He was one of three primary nodes. He could no more leave than he could stop his heart from beating.

"The Heart of the Web," Taquinil said.

Eldrinson focused on the boy. "What did you say?"

"They call Hoshma the Mind of the Web and Uncle Kurj its Fist," Taquinil told him. "You can be the Heart."

Eldrinson smiled. "My thanks."

"You do need a tide," Majda said. "Pharaoh Dyhianna is the Assembly Key. Imperator Skolia is the Military Key."

"I've no idea what would be appropriate." He motioned at the chamber around them, though his gesture included far more, all the nebulous meshes he sensed with his mind. "But I do know this place you call the Kyle. I feel as if I was born to it."

"Perhaps you were," Majda said. "We've been trying to unravel why your people differ from other humans. The original Lyshrioli colonists may have been genetically engineered to use Kyle space."

He thought of the Blue Dale Archers, indistinct and elusive, and of Shannon, his uncanny son. The boy was mists

and blue rain, part of a nomadic life that called to Eldrinson, too, though it would never truly suit him. The Archers touched him on a primal level. That heredity had remained dormant in his line for generations, until he bequeathed it to his son.

Eldrinson had learned enough genetics to realize that more went into making him than the whims of saints in Lyshriol mythology. His differences set him apart from Kurj and Dehya enough so that they had formed a Triad without destroying one another. Dehya knew the Assembly. Kurj knew ISC. They both needed the web, but they struggled to carry the responsibility for its existence on top of their other duties. For him, the web was simple. A game. His genetics ideally suited him for Kyle space. He would tend it while Dehya tended the government and Kurj tended the military.

"I am the Web Key," he said.

Majda inclined her head in acknowledgment. Then she indicated the far side of the chamber. "Shall we?"

"I don't know." Eldrinson smiled. "Shall we what?"

She paused, again showing this strange new side, as if she no longer knew how to deal with him. In truth, she had never seemed certain. Half the time she treated him as she would a prince of her House, a man to be secluded and hidden; the other half she seemed as if she were straining to accept his nature, which by her standards was primitive and role-reversed. She usually solved her quandary by avoiding him; when they did interact, she maintained an aloof courtesy.