The V'Dan (49 page)

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Authors: Jean Johnson

BOOK: The V'Dan
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“Once a citizen of V’Dan—or any other
Human
—turns the age of eighteen years, by V’Dan Standard measurement
or
Terran—they do
not
need a court certificate granting them the legal right to gain tattoo-based
jungen
marks . . . or any other tattoos. All those
under
the age of eighteen years must still obey the law, but those of eighteen and older need only present a valid ident proving their age. They must also still sign the consent form of Tattooing Compliance Law 114, which prevents anyone from being
forced
to get a tattooed set of
jungen
marks.

“As has been pointed out to me,” Hana’ka added dryly, “some Terrans may want to tattoo themselves to look like us out of an enthusiasm for meeting and supporting the ways of their long-lost kin. Some of our own citizens, who have suffered for far too long under these prejudices and bigotries against the unmarked—a condition based entirely upon the combination of the strain of
jungen
virus that infects them and their personal genetics, neither of which is under anyone’s control—may wish
not
to mark their skin as a sign of their own enthusiasm for meeting and supporting the ways of our own long-lost kin.

“In accordance with, and in correlation to, these changes . . . I am enacting Sovereign Law 834,712.
Any
being of legal adult age for a given circumstance shall be considered an adult solely upon their legal age and the maturity of their behavior, and not by any prejudice or bigotry against the color of their skin. Any and all laws requiring
jungen
marks as a
basis for legal maturity are hereby modified so that such requirements are no longer necessary. This ruling does not and shall not invalidate any other requirements of those laws.

“I suggest my citizens struggle with learning quickly how to treat
everyone
well, without regard to their marks or lack thereof . . . or the law courts will find themselves inundated with misdemeanor civil suits against bigoted behavior. I suggest you strive particularly hard to treat our Terran guests and neighbors with far more respect from now on, for they
do
have the right to buy food without prejudice. They have the right to buy liquor without prejudice. They have the right to buy and wear whatever clothing they prefer without prejudice.

“And they
will
be treated as our honored allies.
Without prejudice.
So says the Eternal Throne.” Her hands flicked out to either side, and she and her son and daughter all seated themselves on the huge throne and the two slightly smaller chairs flanking it. Staff members discreetly moved up on either side to accept the dirtied kerchief and the neatly braided wig, while Master of Ceremonies smoothly launched into the next piece of the day’s business, which was some matter the K’Katta Grand High Ambassador needed to have the Empress address.

(
Well. That was interesting,
) Jackie mentally whispered to Li’eth. She kept her gaze firmly on his face, striving hard to ignore the
creepycreepycreepy
view of the K’Katta delegation moving up to the base of the steps leading to the Imperial Tier as they made their formalized request.

(
Only interesting?
) he asked, his outward expression calm, but his inner one holding the equivalent of an arched eyebrow. Not over her arachnophobia, but over her mild reaction to his mother’s announcements.

(
I’m glad she learned what I hoped she would learn. She only covered some of what I hoped she would,
) Jackie added, (
but I can see why she hasn’t tried to cover all of it all at once. People are going to balk at this anyway . . . and if the way your sister’s aura is still swirling with anger aimed toward us is any indication, it’s going to be a long, hard, uphill climb to get people like her to pay attention. To admit that treating us as equals IS necessary, and to actually do so.
)

(
Fair enough. You aren’t upset that our business isn’t the first on the docket, are you?
) he added, meaning his
civilian-side appointment. They both knew it was a mere formality since he was already acting as a cultural liaison as well as a military one, but protocols still had to be observed. Giving him the official title would give him an official level of authority to go with it.

(
Nope. I was actually hoping she wouldn’t touch our part of her court business first because while her announcement about markless equality
is
important enough to be addressed first, the liaison business is not,
) Jackie told him. (
That means by putting our business in the middle of things, we are not being singled out in any other way nor given any overt favoritism . . . which makes her commands for equality all the
more
important, not all the less.
)

(
Mother put it in a similar way while we were waiting for Court to start, if not quite in those exact words,
) he agreed. (
I’m scheduled to work out right after Court, though it’ll be an abbreviated session. You?
)

(
The same, though I’ll be able to escape as soon as my piece of business is through,
) she told him. They had not had the chance to sleep together last night and hadn’t discussed their business for today in any detail. (
Will you be joining us for lunch?
)

(
I’ll be free to depart with you, actually—if I can borrow a set of exercise clothes from someone, would it be okay if I did my workout in the Terran zone? That’d save time. I can get a quick shower to wash off the sweat in your suite, if you’re willing,
) he suggested. (
And I’ve already stashed clean uniforms in your suite.
)

She smiled up at him. (
Of course you can join us. You have the admiration of just about everyone in our embassy, you know.
)

He couldn’t smile back openly, but he did give her a warm mental hug. (
Thank you.
)

JUNE 14, 2287 C.E.
FEVRA 8, 9508 V.D.S.

Li’eth looked up as the door to his mother’s personal parlor opened unexpectedly. This was not the semiformal one that members of
the Imperial Family gathered in before going to some group activity, whether that was Court or a meal. Only a handful of highly trusted servants would come and go in this particular room, and right now, none would have entered without permission. The person who entered, however, was not a servant.

“Vi’alla, I don’t know why you are here, but this is not a good time to interrupt,” he stated quietly. His eldest sister ignored him, however. Her gray gaze had fastened upon their mother and the Terran Grand High Ambassador. In specific, on the way they were seated, knees to knees, hands clasped, heads bowed in concentration. Almost like they were praying.

Or rather, exactly like they were about halfway through the language-transfer process, if all went well.

“What is
she
doing with her?” Vi’alla demanded. She moved forward, frowning “Eternity, whatever this foreigner may be attempting—”

Rising quickly from his seat to one side, Li’eth got in her way. He got in his sister’s way, and sidestepped when she tried to go around him, continuing to block her. “I
said
, this is
not
a good time to interrupt, Vi’alla.”

“Interrupt what? That foreigner planting
thoughts
in our Empress’ head?” Vi’alla snapped. “I know the pose a holy one takes when they communicate mind-to-mind! It was bad enough she has touched the mind of the Imperial Consort, but now our Sovereign?”

She shoved him to the side. Staggering, Li’eth turned and stopped her, reacting with his mind instead of his muscles. Reacting as he had been
taught
, and not just by instinct. Lifted off her feet unexpectedly, Vi’alla gasped in fright. So did he, albeit softer and out of startlement, not fear. Vi’alla dropped the instant his concentration wavered, stumbling and grunting in pain as she landed awkwardly on her feet.

Quickly firming his will, Li’eth concentrated again, scooping her up off her feet. It was hard—she was half-again as heavy as anything he had practiced with before now—but he managed it. Levitating her slowly back, away from their mother and his mate, he carefully held her still while he took a moment to step between her and them.

I see now why Jackie prefers
not
moving while concentrating on things like this. Unless she is levitating herself, of
course . . . and I’m not that good, yet.
Sweat beaded on his brow. He wasn’t perfect at holding her properly vertical, particularly when she struggled. Lifting his hand, he gestured, righting her a little more.

“My instructor in these abilities, Master Sonam Sherap, stressed that it is
vital
not to interrupt a language transfer in action,” Li’eth told his sister, holding her gaze as firmly as he held her body a handspan off the floor. “Their minds are moving as fast as the swiftest of thoughts.
Both
of their memory centers, their kinesthetic cortexes, their senses of sight, sound, touch, taste, smell,
all
of it, is being stimulated at maximum speed. Interrupt them for a second,
touch
them for a moment, and
your
mental energies will be like throwing a log in front of a speeding ground car.

“That vehicle may merely bump over the log with a painful jolt, or it could bound into the air and flip, crashing and tumbling, damaging everything inside and out.
You will not interfere in what you do not understand,
” he asserted, pinning his sister with his gaze as well as his mind. Li’eth ignored the trickle of sweat tickling its way down into his burgundy-striped eyebrow. “This is our mother’s choice.
Not
yours, sister.

“I pledged our Empress I would defend her from
all
sources of interference while she endures this language transfer,” he added formally. “And I will protect her even from her own Heir if need be.”

Lifting his left hand, he focused, pouring heat into the air over his palm. It shimmered for a moment, then burst into bright flame more than a broad handspan in height. Carefully setting her on her feet, he released her telekinetically and pointed at the door she had used.

“Leave, and wait to be summoned. Whatever your news is, it can either be handled by you within the bounds of your authority as Heir, it can be handled by the Grand Generals and the Grand Admirals if it is a matter of the war . . . or it can
wait
for the authority of the Empress to handle it. I will let Her Eternity know that you had news you needed to discuss. When the transference is
over
.”

Free to move, Vi’alla narrowed her eyes at him. “I shall not forget this insolence, Kah’raman.”

“This is
authority
, not insolence, Crown Princess. I have been appointed Guardian to the Empress during these hours. My authority to defend her sanctity and her choices outranks your freedoms and rights as Heir,” he countered, giving her a hard, implacable stare. He had to end the projection of fire even as he spoke, but he kept his finger aimed at the door and even jabbed it a little. “Go.”

“You and your little Terran cannot hide forever behind trumped-up protocols. If I find any evidence the two of you are colluding against the Empire—” she threatened.

“There is none. Now,
go
,” Li’eth ordered. And gave her a telekinetic shove to force her toward the door.

Giving him one last, hard glare, his eldest sister stalked back out of the private parlor attached to their parents’ suite. Only after the panel shut did Li’eth feel free to wipe at the sweat on his face. His hand shook as he did so, and the amount of liquid made him pull out a kerchief to mop it up. A glance at the two women, seated with their hands clasped and their eyes closed, breathing calmly, reminded him that facing down the Imperial Heir was worth it.

Returning to his seat nearby, Li’eth lowered himself into it and contemplated the grim knowledge that his eldest sister did
not
like the Terrans. She did not like them, she refused to understand them, and when Vi’alla took up the Eternal Crown—may that day be long and far away—she would
not
make a good ally for the Second Empire because of her arrogant belief in her vast superiority over the Terrans.

That was one conversation with his mother that he was not looking forward to having.

Vi’alla had been selected, trained, and groomed for the position of Heir for decades. Most of the Empire favored her eventual succession to some extent—informal polls placed her above 60 percent. That, he knew, was high enough to have made her a legitimate candidate for being a Terran Counselor, ironically. If she could pass the various tests in Terran sciences, law, and so forth, that was.

No, his eldest sibling was no true friend of the Terrans. Not much of a potential mere ally, either. She might tolerate them, and she had expressed admiration for their communications arrays and their swift-traveling ships, but that was it; Li’eth
feared that if she could get her hands on
how
their technology worked, Imperial Crown Princess Vi’alla would steal their technology without a second thought.

All her eldest brother could do was sit in the provided chair off to one side, wait for his Gestalt partner and his Empress to come out of their transference trance, and pray to the Saints that his mother would live a very, very long time. Long enough for one of Vi’alla’s children to grow old enough and wise enough to be appointed Heir instead.

It had happened in the past, after all. Heirs could even be nephews or nieces, or younger sons or daughters, or the children of those offspring—Ah’nan would make a better Heir, actually, particularly if one of Vi’alla’s three children was not ready for the position. She wasn’t
here
, but Ah’nan would make a much better Heir. Her latest reports from Earth—what a boring name for a planet, compared to the Salik’s Sallha, which translated as “Fountain,” or the Gatsugi’s Beautiful-Blue—were already showing how her efforts at managing that side of the negotiations were turning out to be quite helpful. It wasn’t treason to discuss her for the possibility of being a better Heir, under that context.

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