Skolian Empire: The Radiant Seas Part 10

"No. A guest. He's the son of Jack Tarrington, a senator in the Allied Congress."

Viquara's perfect lips curved in a smile. "So the mighty fall, my love. One by one."

She was right, of course. Unfortunately, in this case "right" and political expediency didn't agree. "Maximilian."

"Attending."

"Have Empress Viquara's new provider brought up here."

Viquara gave him a coy smile he knew masked unease. "Whatever for? I would rather be with you."

"You can't have this one, Viquara."

"Why not?" When Qox said nothing, she changed her posture, a subtle pose that promised great pleasures if she had her way. "He can provide for both of us, my beloved."

Qox just shook his head. He continued to sip his wine, contemplating this new situation with the Tarrington boy.

Several minutes later, Maximilian said, "The escort you summoned waits in the foyer."

"Bring them in." Qox turned his chair to face the door and waited while Viquara did the same.

The walls around them glittered like snow laced with ice. A door slid open across the room and four Razers entered with the boy. Someone had dressed him in dark green velvet trousers that clung to his long legs, accenting his muscular build. His s.h.i.+rt was the same material, with belled sleeves and thong laces in the front. Whoever dressed him had left the laces untied, revealing his muscular chest. His curls, the color of loamy earth, spilled over his s.h.i.+rt collar in luxuriant profusion. The collar around his neck glittered with diamonds, like water flas.h.i.+ng in the sun, as did the slave cuffs around his wrists and ankles. His bare feet added the final touch, making him look like a wild forest creature the empress had caught.

Viquara drew in a breath. She looked at Qox, earnest now, letting him know how much she wanted this one. He shook his head no, just the barest motion.

The Razers brought the boy to where Qox and Viquara sat. Their prisoner moved like an automaton, his face pale. One of the Razers shoved on his shoulder and the boy dropped to his knees, his eyes downcast. He moved with the awkward grace of an athlete who had only recently learned to kneel to Highton Aristos.

The Razers didn't kneel, of course; it compromised their ability to carry out their function. Qox motioned for three of them to withdraw to posts along the walls. To the fourth, he said, "Bring him a chair."

The Razer brought over a third chair and set it at an angle, facing Qox, then took up position behind it.

Qox spoke in English. "You may sit, Mr. Tarrington."

The boy jerked up his head, perhaps startled by the sound of his language. Or his name. Qox doubted he had heard it since his capture. The merchants would have a.s.signed him a number for their inventory.

The youth got up and sat on the chair, his posture stiff, his gaze s.h.i.+fting between the emperor and empress, his face drawn.

Resting one elbow on the arm of his chair, Qox considered him. "It's Jessie, isn't it? Jack Tarrington's boy?"

Jessie swallowed. "Yes, Your Highness." He stayed on the edge of his chair, leaning neither forward nor back.

After letting the boy wait for several moments, Qox said, "Be a.s.sured, you are an honored guest of my household."

Jessie's emotions flooded out: hope, fear, confusion. He literally radiated a quality all empaths possessed to some degree, a promise of completion for any Aristo who took him as a provider. Qox strove to dampen the effect. Usually he had more control, but Jessie's unusual empathic strength made it difficult to remain unaffected. He understood now why Viquara had bought the boy even without a warranty. It was a shame they had to give him back to the Allieds.

It finally registered on Jessie that he had been addressed by the emperor of Eube and hadn't responded. His voice came out in a rush. "I-I'm honored, sir. Your Highness."

Qox waited, letting Jessie experience the discomfort of fearing he had offended an emperor. Then he said, "The Empress Viquara tells me that she has rescued you from a deplorable situation. What happened?"

"I was going to visit my uncle over spring break." Jessie foundered. "From school, I mean. But a pirate-" He tensed, remembering his audience. "A Eubian frigate boarded our s.h.i.+p, robbed the pa.s.sengers, and-" His voice cracked. "And took me. To sell."

Qox played his first game piece. "You are a free man. It is not our practice to hold foreign dignitaries against their will."

Jessie stared at him. "Your Highness?"

"We will return you to your father. Until you leave, you are our honored guest." He glanced at the antique clock on the wall, then s.h.i.+fted his weight in obvious preparation to stand. "Please accept my regrets for what happened. You can be a.s.sured that all parties involved will be punished."

Jessie was starting to shake, succ.u.mbing to the effects of whatever shock he was suffering. Qox supposed it was difficult on the boy, being brutalized one moment, then made an honored guest of the most powerful man alive the next.

Standing up, Qox glanced at the Razer behind Jessie. "Have the Amba.s.sador's Suite prepared for Mr. Tarrington."

The guard bowed. "Yes, sir."

Qox gave Jessie a nod of dismissal. Glancing at Viquara, he added, "Attend me, Wife."

She blinked at his tone. But she stood up and waited while the guards escorted Jessie out of the room.

As soon as they were alone, Qox said, "Maximilian, get me everything you have on Senator Jack Tarrington of the Allied Congress. I want in particular to know if he is involved with the current treaty negotiations between Eube and Earth."

"Searching," Maximilian said.

"'Attend me, Wife'?" Viquara put one hand on her hip. "Attend you where?"

He gave her a slow smile. "You know, my dear, I am a difficult husband to please. Cold. Harsh. Obsessed with work. For a soul as sensitive as yourself it is agony, trapped in this loveless marriage."

Unease flickered across her face. "What are you talking about?" She took her hand off her hip. "No woman could ask for a better-"

He touched his finger to her lips. "You are the loneliest woman alive. Oh you admire me, consider me an inspired leader, a man who foresees a future of peace and prosperity for the Allied Worlds and Eube, our people working together, free of this brutal war brought on by the malice of Imperial Skolia. But my duties leave me no time for you, a sweet blossom trapped by the bleak machinations of the royal court."

She watched him warily. "A sweet blossom indeed."

"And of course I am mortified by the inexcusable treatment that young Tarrington received."

"Of course."

"As emperor I would express these thoughts to the wife I so take for granted." He spread his hands. "But given my many duties, I haven't the time to entertain our Allied guest."

"This sweet blossom of yours does, I take it."

"Of course."

Her expression changed, becoming so convincingly sweet and forlorn she looked like different person. "I've such an austere life, with no friends and a husband who forgets I exist. I should be careful not to spend too much time with that charming young man who suffered so at the hands of those terrible pirates-oh!" She put her hand to her mouth, a lovely flush suffusing her cheeks. "I shouldn't use that word. I might be overheard."

Watching her transformation, Qox wondered how she did it so well. Was she acting like this when she swore her pa.s.sion for him? "Can you make him believe it?"

Her soft expression vanished, replaced by the savvy Viquara he knew. "I'm not sure. What do you want me to do with him?"

"Consider this," he said. "That devastated young man, vulnerable, in shock, traumatized, his world fallen apart. Who rescues him but the lovely empress herself? He is a ripe fruit, Viquara. Pluck him. Make him fall in love with you."

She stared at him. "Whatever for?"

A chime came from the computer console.

Qox spoke to the air. "Yes?"

"I have the information on Senator Tarrington," Maximilian said. "He has no connection to the treaty negotiations."

Although it disappointed Qox, it wasn't a surprise. "Does he have any involvement with interstellar affairs?" It was perhaps too general a question, but better to throw the net wide and see what he brought up than to cast over too small an area and miss an important catch.

"He is sponsoring an environmental protection bill for the Allied colony Nuevo Espana," Maximilian said. "He also belongs to the Masonriders Guild. The rest of his work concerns issues specific to Earth."

"What is the Masonriders Guild?" Qox asked.

"A society that performs charitable acts to benefit colonies without sufficient technology to support their populations."

Qox frowned. "Doesn't he do anything useful?"

"That depends on what you consider useful."

"Anything that benefits me."

"Significant correlation exists," Maximilian said, "between members.h.i.+p in the Masonriders and Allied operatives who gather intelligence on the Skolian Imperialate."

That intrigued Qox. "He spies on the Skolians?"

"It is more likely that he directs such an operation. His patterns of travel and his 'hobby' of reading about the Ruby Empire, when sifted in with his general profile, suggest his specialty is the Valdoria branch of the Ruby Dynasty."

"Well done," Qox murmured. A back door into Allied surveillance on the Ruby Dynasty was a playing piece well worth acquiring.

"An interesting development," Viquara said.

He regarded her. "You really must be careful about how much time you spend with young Jessie. Otherwise, by the time he returns home he will be so thoroughly besotted with you he won't be able to think straight."

Her lips curved into an icy perfect smile. "Indeed."

From s.p.a.ce the Orbiter looked like a metal ball bristling with antennae, weapons, towers, and cranes. Lights traveled in loops along it, like great radiant necklaces. The habitat was otherwise gray and functional, a craggy ball spinning in s.p.a.ce.

Inside was a wonderland.

The Orbiter's rotation axis pierced its north and south poles, and the apparent gravitational force created by the spinning sphere pointed perpendicular to that axis. At the Orbiter's equator, the force was perpendicular to the inner hull, which made the ground flat. Walking away from the equator was like climbing a slope that became steeper as one neared the pole. The surface was terraformed to match, becoming more and more mountainous. But gravity lessened as the slope steepened. Although at the actual poles the slope became vertical, gravity was zero there, so "vertical" lost meaning.

It took the Orbiter ninety seconds for one rotation. With a diameter of four kilometers, its gravity at the equator about equaled that of Earth. Anything moving on the inner surface of the sphere also experienced a Coriolis force that pushed it to the side. The faster its motion, the greater the push. For typical speeds the effect was small, but in the low-gravity regions around the pole it became more of a problem, making hikers drift to the side.

The inner surface had an area about fifty kilometers square, divided into two hemispheres, Sky and Ground. The north and south poles lay on the horizon. Sky was blue, a dimpled luminous surface that changed color according to the time of "day." Every thirty hours a sun rose in a coral-hued dawn, made its way across Sky on an invisible track, and set in a fiery sunset. The huge lamp provided electromagnetic radiation at wavelengths optimal to human life.

Parks and mountains covered the ground hemisphere, with City in its exact center. As coloratura was to song, lyricism to prose, and filigree to metalwork, so City was to other metropolises. Its graceful curves and arches pleased the eye, as did its soft colors, sky blue, rose, lavender, forest green. And City was never still. The ends of bridges floated down to tiled paths. Arches opened in walls, then closed again or drifted to other places. Travel was by foot only, or a small monorail that blended with the scenery.

The horizon separated Ground and Sky, and the north and south poles lay on it. The equator circled the sphere equidistant between the two poles, and crossed the circle of the horizon at right angles. Near the equator, the horizon was no more than the border of a lawn, gra.s.s on one side, sky on the other. Away from the equator, approaching the horizon was like moving sideways along a hill-except at the horizon you could keep going, edging with poetic whimsy along the sky just as you had edged along the hill.

Near the poles, the horizon was terraformed into cliffs, to discourage hikers. Airborne robots patrolled the area. The lighter gravity made the cliffs easy to climb, but a misplaced step could cause a fall. Those bemused hikers who fell onto Sky could end up sliding with ever-increasing weight down a two-kilometer-long slope.

Strolling along the equator was like walking on flat ground, with "down" being right under wherever a person happened to be standing. Hikers could start from City, go to the horizon, walk along Sky until City was "above" them, continue to the opposite horizon, step back onto Ground, and cross the parks back to City. With a circ.u.mference of only twelve kilometers, the equator could be walked within a day. On holidays the sky filled with people hiking, picnicking, and playing sports.

Command centers honeycombed the Orbiter's hull, including the War Room. About halfway from City to the horizon, the mountains hid an idyllic valley guarded by the Imperialate's best security, sheltering houses where the Ruby Dynasty lived when they were on the Orbiter.

Kurj rode a magrail car to the valley, which in his ever-literal style he had named Valley. Entering Valley required extensive security checks, all of which un.o.btrusively took place while he sat in the car reading holographs of the last a.s.sembly session. The magrail let him off a few hundred meters from his house, and he walked the rest of the way to the stone mansion on the side of a mountain.

Today he felt heavy.

Kurj knew it made no sense, given that the gravity here was only at about 70 percent. He preferred it that way; he was simply too ma.s.sive for standard gravity, the volume-to-area ratio of his body too big. But still, today, he felt heavy.

He entered his home by a doorway big enough for three men to walk through together. It had no door. In Valley's controlled environment, the weather was whatever he wanted. So he lived in eternal spring and left his house open to the air.

His living room was five times as large as those built by normal-sized humans. It stretched out, open and airy, all stone surfaces, smooth, polished, gray. When he entered, the dormant walls were drowsing, just the barest line of gold glowing at waist-level. The pressure of his tread woke the house and the glow increased, outlining a desert landscape, sand below the horizon, amber sky above.

Kurj sat on the couch, one of the few furnis.h.i.+ngs in the spa.r.s.e room. It molded to his body, easing his muscles, but his fatigue went far deeper than the exhaustion produced by the strain of carrying his large bulk. Leaning forward, with his booted feet planted wide, he rested his elbows on his knees and-in the privacy of his home where no one could see-put his head in his hands.

He had just spent two days monitoring the war machine under his command. Maneuvers, inventories, war games, communications, skirmishes-he oversaw it all. He absorbed data from across the stars and processed it in a web that spread throughout his body and the Orbiter. Every a.n.a.lysis yielded the same result; ISC operated like a well-oiled machine. But within the beauty of that order he saw another pattern, one that added a weight to his step no change in gravity could ever ease.

It wasn't enough.

He had shaped the most powerful war machine ever known by free humanity. The most versatile. The fastest. And it wasn't enough. The Traders wouldn't conquer them today, tomorrow, or next year. But bit by inexorable bit, Eube would wear them down, until Imperial Skolia fell to its relentless force. He had given his life, even his humanity, to prevent that future. And it wasn't enough.

Kurj looked around the empty room. "I'm tired," he said. The room didn't answer.

A, attend, he thought.

Attending.

Access the gate and link me to the a.s.sembly web on Parthonia.

You aren't jacked into the web.

Use an IR link. Although IR transmissions were less secure than a direct link, little chance existed that anyone could intercept a transmission sent from where he sat to a console across the room.

Link to planet Parthonia established, A thought.

Has the a.s.sembly session begun yet?

No. It begins in two hours and six minutes, standard. Will you attend?

Yes. He would rather have slept, but Parthonia time cycles had no connection to the Orbiter. He also needed to finish his preparations for the session. Dehya opposed the proposed ban on trade with the dust merchants who mined Onyx Sector. She claimed the ban would weaken the Onyx economy, but Kurj suspected she had other reasons, such as using the merchants to spy on Onyx Platform, his ISC base in that sector. So he opposed her opposition. Her challenge in the upcoming a.s.sembly session would be subtle. Intricate. Thorough. Of all opponents, Dehya was the most worthy. So he had to work more on his preparations.

He needed sleep, however. His body required only two hours for every twenty of activity, but losing even one of those hours blunted his acuity. If he slept an hour now, that left him one to work on the Onyx material.

Kurj went to his bedroom, entering through a wide opening with no door. Inside, golden desert images softened the walls of the big stone room, their glow more subdued here. His bed stood against one wall, its huge expanse custom-made for his frame.