The Moon's Shadow (35 page)

Tarquine checked her palmtop. “Neither he nor General Taratus have responded to the summons you sent them.”

“It could take days for the message to reach them by ship.”

Tarquine glanced at him. “Only Kaliga has the go-ahead to use a Kyle webnode from his home. Even if we reach Taratus, he has no node that will let him attend the talks.”

Jai crossed his arms. “We need better web access.”

“So we do.” She studied him. “If we had a Key, he could create our own web, and we would be done with our dependence on the Skolians.”

Jai didn’t miss the pronoun she used: “he.” He swallowed, but said nothing.

To her credit, she didn’t push, at least not now. He doubted she would ever let it go.

“You should rest,” she said. “Tomorrow will be more grueling than today.”

Jai lowered his lashes halfway. “Yes. Let us rest.”

“Us?”

He stood up, extending his hand. “Us.”

She motioned with her palmtop. “I’m not done working.”

“Yes, you are.” Jai took the palmtop and set it on a table. He felt as if Kelric’s specter were in the room. “Come, Wife.”

She stood slowly, and Jai felt as if he were on a knife edge, barely able to balance. He couldn’t let her see how much he needed her, but he couldn’t let Kelric’s unspoken presence take her from him either.

Tarquine had a strange expression, as if he had stabbed her, but she was hiding her pain. Jai didn’t understand. He saw no way he could have hurt her. Maybe she no longer wanted him after seeing Skolia’s mighty Imperator. He tried to pick up her thoughts, but she was learning to guard her mind. Although he caught impressions, Kelric was in none of them. Only himself. He made her hurt inside, but why, he didn’t know.

She took his hand, and they walked to the bed.

That night she made love to him with an intensity that burned. She seemed darker in spirit, harsh, as if she wanted to drive him away, but an incongruous tenderness underlay her ferocity, giving her passion a bittersweet quality that threatened to break his heart.

Afterward, as they lay together, Jai knew he would never understand his wife, nor feel secure with her. But this much he did know: he never wanted to live without her.

In the darkness of the living room, the only light came from the faint glow made by the gold desert silhouettes on the wall. Kelric sat alone, unable to sleep. He had thought seeing Tarquine would leave him cold.

He had been wrong.

Kelric knew why Jaibriol had chosen her as his empress. It wouldn’t have taken the boy long to discover she differed from other Aristos in the only way that mattered to a psion. If the emperor truly was a telepath, Tarquine might be the only Highton woman he could marry.

Kelric tried to untangle his responses. He had never been one to dwell on his emotions. As an empath, he often understood the moods of other people better than his own. He didn’t know what he felt now, but it was keeping him awake.

He didn’t want seeing Tarquine to affect him, but he couldn’t deny he had found her compelling from the first day he met her. She was darkness, the opposite of Jeejon, his wife. Although Kelric would never feel the passion for Jeejon that had gripped him in other relationships when he was younger, he loved her in a quiet way. Whatever he felt for Tarquine, it bore no resemblance to love.

Kelric shook his head, trying to clear Tarquine from his mind. He had more pressing concerns about the peace talks. He didn’t trust the Hightons, especially not this Intelligence Minister, Azile Xir, the son of Corbal Xir, who had owned Eldrin, and who had allowed his pirates to terrorize Skolian citizens. The absence of Admiral Kaliga was even worse. The explanation given by the emperor’s office about a “change of plans” convinced no one. It looked like Kaliga simply hadn’t shown up, and it sent an inescapable message: Jaibriol III lacked the authority to command his own military. Without their backing, the talks meant nothing.

Kelric had little hope now for the peace process. The Aristos would promise whatever they believed necessary to achieve their goals, but they considered nothing binding in their dealings with Skolians. Other motives drove them here, though what, he didn’t know. Jaibriol III seemed sincere, especially after he had released Jafe Maccar and Jacques Ardoise, but he lacked support in his own government.

Whatever was going on among the Hightons, Kelric wanted no part of it. As long as Dehya maintained psiberweb links with Glory, they were giving the Traders a chance to hack the Kyle web and create interstellar havoc. Better to end the talks now and cut their links to Glory than become a pawn in some Highton intrigue.

His gauntlet comm buzzed. Lifting his wrist, he said, “Imperator Skolia.”

“Lieutenant Qahot here, sir.” Her voice crackled. “A priority alpha communication has come in for you.”

Kelric sat up straighter. “What’s the problem?”

“It regards the peace talks.” She took an audible breath. “Empress Tarquine wishes to speak to you in private.”

W
hite radiance surrounded Kelric.

The light solidified into a room with luminex walls, ceiling, and floor. The EI he had met the last time appeared again, an athletic man in an Allied naval uniform.

“My greetings, Imperator Skolia,” the EI said in perfect Iotic, the language of the Skolian nobility.

Kelric nodded to him. “Has the empress arrived?”

“I believe she is in process. Shall we proceed?”

“All right.” Kelric had no idea what to expect.

They entered a luminex corridor. It was like walking in a tunnel of white light that ended at an arched doorway.

“Do you wish me to accompany you inside?” the EI asked.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you for your escort.” Kelric felt odd thanking a computer, but in the years he had been gone, EIs had become more intelligent. He never felt sure anymore what they expected or wanted, if a computer could “want” anything.

The EI bowed and faded into the light.

When Kelric touched the door, it sparkled into a million pinpricks of light and vanished. He walked into an odd, asymmetrical chamber, apparently on a starship. It was shaped like a narrow pyramid, longer on one side than the other, so it seemed to lean. The opposite wall was a narrow triangle of dichromesh glass about twice his height.

Tarquine stood in front of the glass.

She was facing away from him, gazing out at space, her body silhouetted against the stars. Then she turned—and he felt as if a blast of wind had hit him. Her face had that alabaster perfection he remembered so well, her body its long, lean sensuality. The simplicity of her black jumpsuit underscored her elegance. She emanated power.

He walked to her, and they faced each other in front of the window. She was a tall woman, and her boots added more height, bringing her gaze nearly level to his own.

He said, “Tarquine.”

She inclined her head. “Kelric.”

“You wished to see me.”

“I need to answer a question.”

“Yes?”

She paused, showing hesitation for the first time since he had known her, a response even more startling in that she could have had her simulacrum hide it if she wished.

“It isn’t a question I know how to ask,” she said.

He spoke quietly. “You need to give me a better reason for this meeting. I am the Imperator of Skolia. You are the Empress of Eube. We have been lovers. Some might construe a private conference between the two of us a prelude to treason on an interstellar scale.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “This is no treason.”

“Good.”

“You choose interesting words.” In the deceptively soft voice, she added, “Such as, say, ‘lovers.’”

Kelric exhaled, grateful the simulation allowed him to hide his disquiet. She was as potent across many light-years as she was in person. “It was a figure of speech.”

“Perhaps.”

He knew her direct speech carried a message. They weren’t related; nor were their words meant to establish a hierarchy of dominance. That left only two possibilities, one being that she wished to indicate respect for the Skolian style of communication, which he doubted. The other implied an intimate link between them.

“Whatever we were,” he said, “it ended the day I walked off your space habitat.”

She put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. “You made many problems for me that day.”

“You seem to be thriving.” He had never seen her looking so well, in fact. Being empress obviously agreed with her.

She lowered her arms. “I do have a question I can put into words.”

“Yes?”

“I would know your intentions in these talks. Do you honor my husband’s desire for peace?”

“Of course.” Kelric wondered what she really wanted. Had they truly been in the same place, he might have detected her mind, but she was light-years away on Glory. “The question of intent would seem more appropriate applied to a people other than mine. Such as, say, certain groups among the Eubian military.”

Her lips curved. “Now you sound like a Highton.”

“These talks seem to be missing a Highton.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Admiral Kaliga is hard to miss.”

Tarquine clasped her hands behind her back and looked at the stars. “The Line of Kaliga is of no matter.”

“‘No matter’?” He let his incredulity show. “How genuine can your emperor’s intent be if his Joint Commander doesn’t even show up to the talks?”

“Emperor Jaibriol commands the Eubian military.”

“In name.”

She turned to him. “Any agreement made by the emperor is binding on ESComm.”

“And if Xirad Kaliga decides otherwise?”

“It makes no difference.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he said. She had to know Kaliga’s absence was a disaster.

“The Line of Kaliga serves the Line of Qox,” she said.

“Neither of us is that naive.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Yes, Kaliga has a great deal of influence and my husband is young. But don’t underestimate the emperor, Kelric.”

Hearing his name on her lips startled him. He suddenly remembered a time he had fallen asleep with his head in her lap. And then later…no, he must let those memories go.

Kelric knew he wouldn’t forget living in her universe. And yet somewhere, sometime, his craving for her had faded. For all that he had insisted he no longer desired Tarquine, until this moment he hadn’t realized he spoke the truth.

Her motives eluded him, yet in talking to her now, he had the impression she truly wanted the talks to take place. He doubted Jaibriol could succeed without ESComm behind him, but Tarquine’s support might make the difference. Kelric had seen and lived with the power she commanded; if she backed her husband, the peace process might have a chance.

“Very well,” Kelric said. “I will accept what you say about your husband’s intent in these talks.”

Tarquine turned her haughtiest Aristo look on him, an impressive one he had to admit, fit for an empress. “And I will accept the same, for the Ruby Dynasty.”

“So.”

She exhaled. “So.”

He knew he should end the conversation, but instead he asked, “Did you get the answer to your other question, the one you can’t put into words?”

Sadness shaded her response. “Yes. I did.” In a husky voice, she added, “Farewell, Kelric. May you have happiness in your life.”

Softly he said, “And you also. Good-bye, Tarquine.”

Seven people sat at the table in the War Room on the Orbiter: Dehya Selei, the Ruby Pharaoh; Barcala Tikal, First Councilor of Skolia; Kelric, the Imperator; General Naaj Majda, highest in the military after Kelric; Admiral Ragnar Bloodmark, next after Majda; Eldrin, the Pharaoh’s Consort; and Roca Skolia, the Foreign Affairs Councilor and mother to both Kelric and Eldrin.

Roca spoke flatly. “I don’t see the point in continuing the talks.”

Kelric recognized her tone; she wasn’t going to relent. For all that she looked like the proverbial “sweet angel” described in news broadcasts, she was one of the toughest politicians he knew.

Naaj Majda nodded, her iron-gray hair pulled back, accenting her austere, patrician features. “I agree with Councilor Roca. Without ESComm, these talks mean nothing.”

Ragnar Bloodmark sat sprawled in his chair, his lanky frame stretched out. “ESComm has sent no explanation. All we get are excuses from the emperor’s staff.”

“We need to hear from the Joint Commander,” Tikal said.

Ragnar’s gaze darkened. “Xirad Kaliga can go to hell.”

Eldrin spoke dryly. “Your military insight leaves me in awe, Ragnar.” He made no attempt to hide his dislike of the admiral. Ragnar cocked an eyebrow at him.

Roca glanced at Kelric. “You’ve been quiet. What do you say?”

“That we continue the talks.”

First Councilor Tikal scowled at him. “They’re using us, Imperator Skolia, playing some political game among themselves.”

“Possibly,” Kelric said. “But I’m convinced they at least want to try this time.”

Ragnar gave him a sardonic look. “Of course your sudden interest in these talks has no link to your clandestine meeting last night with the empress.”

Damn. Kelric narrowed his gaze at the admiral. How had Ragnar found out?

“What the hell?” Tikal said.

Naaj turned a cold gaze on Ragnar. “You had better have proof to back up that accusation.”

Eldrin smirked. “Or else you just bought yourself one load of trouble, Ragnar my friend.”

Even Roca looked troubled. “Ragnar, you go too far.”

Kelric spoke quietly. “Yes, my meeting last night with Empress Tarquine affected my opinion.”

Everyone went silent.

Until now, Dehya had been listening only, as she often did, no doubt evaluating their comments with her ever-evolving brain. Now she spoke to Kelric. “You didn’t talk to the empress for long.”

For flaming sakes. Dehya also knew? In truth, though, Kelric wasn’t all that surprised she had discovered his talk with Tarquine; Dehya was probably too interconnected with the webs to miss a link from the Orbiter to Glory. But he had secured the transmission himself and had expected it to hold against anyone else. Ragnar had better intelligence operations than Kelric had realized.

Naaj frowned. “Just how many people know about this ‘clandestine’ meeting?”

“Not enough, apparently,” Tikal said dryly. “I’ve only just heard of it.”

Tarquine was the last person Kelric wanted to talk about with anyone, let alone his top advisers. But this wasn’t something he could pull back from, no matter how he felt. “We spoke last night, through the web.”

Roca regarded him uneasily. “About what?”

“The Eubians doubt our motives in the talks.”

“
Our
motives?” Naaj snorted. “Is that a joke?”

“Apparently not,” Kelric said.

“Do you trust the empress?” Eldrin asked.

Kelric gave a wry smile. “No.”

“You shouldn’t have spoken with her.” Tikal scowled at him. “It violates every protocol.”

Malice glinted in Ragnar’s eyes. “Maybe speaking wasn’t what they had in mind.”

Eldrin stiffened. “You’re out of line, Ragnar.”

The admiral slanted a dark glance at him. “Are you speaking for your
brother
?” His emphasis left no doubt what he thought about Eldrin’s objectivity, or lack thereof.

In his youth, Kelric had never understood why Eldrin resented Ragnar. Their animosity had grown during the past two decades, but now Kelric had the maturity to recognize its origins. Ragnar coveted Dehya, the Ruby Pharaoh, Eldrin’s wife. Kelric wished his brother could distance himself from the admiral; Eldrin had to know Dehya would never betray him. He played into Ragnar’s hands when he let his rival bait him.

Kelric spoke quickly, before his brother could blow up at Ragnar. “The empress and I discussed only the talks.” That wasn’t completely true; a great deal had gone unspoken between them. But any record of their conversation would support his claim.

Roca’s voice hardened. “Tarquine Iquar overstepped herself. She has no rights to you.”

Kelric could feel his mother’s formidable ire stirring. Even now, when her children were interstellar potentates, Roca viewed them as her brood. Poets and historians lauded her beauty, but Kelric had always thought she was at her most striking like this, intense and daunting, without the polish of the media techs, a queen ardent in protecting her own, whether it was her children or her empire.

“Tarquine doesn’t claim any rights,” he said. “She just wanted my assurance about our intentions.”

“That’s absurd,” Naaj said. “What, shall I go to Intelligence Minister Azile Xir and demand to know what Corbal Xir intends with his pirate fleets?”

Tikal crossed his arms. “A reason exists for our rules of order, Imperator Skolia. Breaking those protocols undermines the entire process.”

“Does Emperor Jaibriol know you met with his wife?” Dehya asked.

“I didn’t ask,” Kelric said. “But no, I don’t think so.”

Tikal shook his head. “One wonders what is going on with the Hightons, that the emperor’s military leaders refuse his commands and his empress is off having private audiences with the Skolian Imperator.”

Naaj rested her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers. “Qox seems to have relatively little authority. I suppose it isn’t surprising, given his youth and protected childhood. But I don’t see much point in continuing these talks.”

“I disagree,” Kelric said.

“You aren’t an objective judge,” Tikal said.

Kelric stiffened. Then he finally said aloud what they were all avoiding. “I was her provider. That is hardly likely to predispose me to trust her.”

Naaj met his gaze. “You were her lover.”

“Not of my own free will.”

An awkward silence fell over the group.

Dehya spoke softly. “Enough.” She was watching Eldrin, who was staring at the table. Although Eldrin had barricaded his mind, Kelric knew his brother was remembering his time as a Trader prisoner.

Tikal spoke quietly. “I vote we end the talks.”

“I agree,” Naaj said.

Roca nodded. “I also.”

Eldrin gave Kelric a look of apology. “I also agree.”

Ragnar spoke wryly. “It appears Prince Eldrin and I are actually in agreement on something.”

Tikal exhaled. “That is five in favor of withdrawing from the talks. We have a majority.”

Dehya spoke coolly. “This isn’t a democracy, Councilor Tikal. I say we continue.”

“Well, well,” Ragnar murmured. “The Ruby Pharaoh and the Imperator say yes, and the First Councilor says no.” He looked inordinately entertained. “How awkward.”

Kelric held back his retort. His dislike of what Ragnar had to say didn’t change its truth. The blended government, with the Pharaoh and First Councilor sharing power, was just barely established. They had no precedent for this situation, where the two of them were opposed in a major decision.

Tikal and Dehya appraised each other. Then Tikal said, “It isn’t in our best interests to continue the talks.”

Dehya raised an eyebrow. “Peace isn’t in our best interest?”

“If the Traders wanted peace,” Tikal countered, “Admiral Kaliga would be at the talks.”

“That a power struggle may exist between the Qox palace and ESComm doesn’t mean they don’t want peace.”