Skolian Empire: The Radiant Seas Part 24

"Good." He continued to look out the window. "Bring him."

In the reflection, Qox saw Ajaks enter. Razers escorted the admiral, who came with none of his own bodyguards, as did anyone granted an audience with Qox. The only guards allowed in the emperor's presence belonged to the emperor.

Like most Hightons, La.s.sar Ajaks was tall and cla.s.sic of feature, without a white hair on his head. He was also heavily built, even with a few pounds of fat, a rare sight on an Aristo. He wore a severe uniform and military boots, all black except for red piping on the sleeves.

Qox had granted him command of Viquara's Glory because Ajaks coveted only riches, as opposed to power. The political situation now was too volatile to take chances. Qox had spread rumors of another Highton Heir, again hidden from a.s.sa.s.sins, a story that carried weight given Jaibriol's death. But he had no heir. He had sired a boy on Cirrus, trying for another Rhon psion, with no success.

In the transition room, the waroids had removed the binding on Althor's arms and were fastening cuffs around his wrists, each restraint networked with picotech that would monitor his activities and provide various means of control.

Qox turned to Ajaks. "My greetings, La.s.sar."

The admiral bowed, his fist at his waist and his thumb pointing upward to indicate success. "My honor at your esteemed presence, Your Highness."

Qox tilted his head toward the transition room. "I am pleased with what you brought me."

Ajaks straightened, puffing out his chest. "It is my great joy to bring you this result of our glorious engagement against the malice of Imperial Skolia."

Qox almost smiled. Ajaks had always had a florid way with words. He was useful on news broadcasts, which required the kind of hackneyed expressions Ajaks produced with such versatility.

"A glorious engagement indeed," Qox said.

"There is more, sir. A matter of intelligence." He spoke with distaste, as if to suggest intelligence had been mishandled until he, La.s.sar Ajaks, rectified the situation. It didn't surprise Qox. Intelligence Minister Vitrex had attained great prestige since Althor's capture. So other Hightons sought the minister's downfall. Qox encouraged the intrigues, as it diverted attention from him.

But the admiral's att.i.tude today suggested more than simple intrigues. Ajaks could barely contain his excitement. "Your Highness. Sir. Your Most Exalted Honor."

Amused, Qox said, "Yes, La.s.sar?"

Ajaks unhooked his palmtop and offered it to Qox. In his side vision Qox saw his Razers stiffen, hands dropping to their weapons. The room's security systems would also have just notched up their defense readiness. Even so, he took the palmtop. And when he read its screen, the room suddenly seemed very quiet.

He looked at Ajaks. "You have done well. I won't forget."

The admiral bowed. "It is my joy to bring you the final stroke in uniting the universe under Highton benevolence."

"Indeed." If this information proved as useful as it looked, Ajaks's histrionic prose might have truth in it.

The message summarized the efforts of the admiral's people to crack the Destrier web. Most of the s.h.i.+p's nodes had been erased, but the web wizards had managed to cull a few files-including a message from the Imperator. Kurj Skolia was on SunsReach, of all places. An attack on SunsReach offered little chance of success; the planet was far too well guarded. But who would have expected him to be there? Given the proximity of SunsReach to the Orbiter, it would make more sense for him to return to the Orbiter when he learned of his heir's capture, rather than ISC headquarters on Diesha.

And where was one most vulnerable? En route to his destination. In s.p.a.ce.

Songbell flowers chimed in the clear night air, adding soft music to the parklands of Upper Qoxire. Rosy light from the moon Mirella bathed the lawns, her luminence silvered by five smaller moons, all at least half full, including the Sisters, Ilina and Tarquine, which gleamed like gibbous silver coins. Named for the sisters of Eube Qox, they circled Glory in orbits separated by barely fifty kilometers. The lower, faster moon never managed to pa.s.s her sister. As the lower moon approached the upper, the upper moon's gravity slowed her down and pulled her toward the higher orbit, whereas the lower moon's gravity sped up the upper moon and pulled her down toward the lower orbit, until finally they swapped orbits and the new lower moon sped away from her sister. Seen from the surface of Glory, they appeared to bounce off each other in the sky. Tonight they were so close, they almost seemed to touch.

Izar Vitrex, Minister of Intelligence, waited among the diffuse carnelian shadows.

A rustle came from a path on his left. Then Kryx Quaelen appeared.

"My greetings, Minister Vitrex," Quaelen said.

"My greetings, Minister Quaelen," Vitrex said.

"A lovely night."

"So it is." Vitrex nodded toward the palace, which glowed on a distant hill, radiant and graceful. "It honors our emperor."

Quaelen watched him with a hooded gaze. "May the House of Qox bless our people." He paused. "And our sons."

"A n.o.ble sentiment." The implication wasn't lost on Vitrex. How Quaelen had discovered that Vitrex's "heir" wasn't his true son, Vitrex had no idea. Apparently the Trade Minister wielded a more formidable intelligence force than Vitrex had realized. Quaelen had used subtle innuendo to express sympathy, indicating he knew how it felt to endure a stigma on the Highton bloodline. Vitrex didn't believe for an instant that Quaelen gave a kiss in h.e.l.l about his dilemma. The Trade Minister intended to blackmail him.

Even worse, the emperor knew. In an impressive dance of innuendo, Qox had a.s.sured Vitrex his secret was safe, a reward for his role in the Destrier triumph. But Vitrex had no illusions. By letting his wife Sharla talk him into this deception, he had compromised his standing with the emperor and given Qox a means to control him.

It was all the fault of that girl Cirrus. Having providers spy was nothing new, and Vitrex had been careful when he was with her, using the same mental blocking techniques ISC telops used to protect their minds in battle. He had believed himself protected when he enjoyed himself with the emperor's pretty little toy. He had been wrong.

He considered denouncing Sharla, playing the appalled husband to the discovery of her deception. But even if it disa.s.sociated him from the mess, it still would stir rumors that he knew more than he claimed. It would also earn the enmity of Sharla's people, a powerful Highton line. Besides, he really liked Sharla, who played the ice princess in public and the wh.o.r.e of his dreams in private.

Sharla was also far better than he at politics. Left on his own, he would have settled into obscurity. But now was a good time for moves to power. Somehow he had to make this mess work to his benefit.

Quaelen gazed at the moon-swept garden, silent. Such silences used to agitate Vitrex, spurring him to babble. Then Sharla told him it was a technique meant to have exactly that effect. After that, he learned to employ the technique himself.

When the silence became tiresome, serving no purpose for either of them, Quaelen said, "A son for a son. Bless the emperor's good fortune. And your esteemed role in it."

"Indeed," Vitrex said. Quaelen obviously referred to Althor Valdoria. Still, this business about sons made him uneasy.

"A son." Quaelen paused. "A brother."

"A brother?"

"Who descends from the sky like a hammer."

"A hammer?"

"Skyhammer."

"Skyhammer?" Vitrex couldn't see where this was going.

Quaelen rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. "On SunsReach. You do know the place, don't you?"

His tone irritated Vitrex. Of course he knew SunsReach, the Ruby Dynasty retreat. It was, after all, the intelligence work of his own people that had led to Althor Valdoria's capture and the revelation of the Imperator's location. He almost snapped at Quaelen, then caught himself and simply said, "Indeed."

"It is a shame it's so much farther from SunsReach to ISC headquarters than to the Orbiter," Quaelen commented.

"Indeed," Vitrex said, confused now. "Although shame or lack thereof depends on your point of view."

"True. Humiliation for Imperial Skolia may be a blessing for Eube. One worth the attention of the emperor himself."

"As well it should be," Vitrex said. Apparently Quaelen knew the emperor planned to follow the battle cruiser Viquara's Glory in the cruiser Megapolis. Qox wouldn't go into combat, of course. But if ESComm located and captured the Imperator, Qox would have the glory of taking him prisoner. Vitrex himself had seen to the preparations for the additional fleet required to secure Qox's safety. Actually, his people had seen to them. He had little talent for intelligence or any other profession. His gifts lay in an ability to identify people who could do what he couldn't and then take credit for their work.

Of course they had no guarantee ESComm would find Kurj Skolia. Still, Vitrex imagined a triumphant Ur Qox facing the captured Imperator. What a scene! Splendid material for the news broadcasts. As Intelligence Minister, he was well placed to shape what went into those broadcasts, making sure the glory reflected on him.

Quaelen was watching his face. "It will be a great moment when our esteemed emperor returns from his perilous mission."

Perilous? Vitrex stiffened. What did Quaelen imply? That he, Izar Vitrex, couldn't ensure the emperor's safety? It was an insult. Peril, indeed.

Then a new angle occurred to him. The people didn't need to know Qox was in no danger. It wouldn't hurt Vitrex's growing base of support to be lauded as the minister who had helped their courageous emperor return home from his daring mission.

"The people will rejoice in his safe return," Vitrex said.

"As indeed they should." Quaelen waited several heartbeats. "a.s.suming he does."

Vitrex froze, finally comprehending Quaelen's intent. The Trade Minister was looking far beyond public relations coups. Vitrex could ensure the emperor returned in triumph- Or didn't return at all.

Saying the idea held risk was like saying a sea held water. Vitrex could dare no more than to make the chance of a disaster possible. If any evidence came forward that he had even an infinitesimal part in it, he would suffer a long, ugly death. If Qox died, it would plunge Eube into chaos, particularly with no acting Highton Heir.

But chaos also provided opportunity for Hightons of intelligence to increase their power.

Was it worth the risk?

14.

The ISC Anvil dropped out of inversion, hurtling through s.p.a.ce in the distorted universe of time dilation and s.p.a.ce contraction. Within seconds it slowed to more mundane speeds, along with its escort, the flotilla that had accompanied it to SunsReach plus an additional ten Starslammer destroyers taken off the SunsReach orbital defense system.

Ten seconds later the ISC Rampart, a Firestorm battle cruiser, burst into real s.p.a.ce. With it came two thousand craft, in perfect formation, including Starslammers, Leos, Asps, Cobras, Wasps, and Jags. The void suddenly thrived with s.h.i.+ps. Most were drones piloted by EI brains; one in ten carried a human crew.

The Anvil and Rampart armadas began their intricate dance of maneuvers as the two fleets rendezvoused. Roca waited in the stardome above the bridge of Anvil, next to the command chair where Kurj sat, the nanohooks in the soles of her boots holding her to the catwalk by grasping complementary hooks in the walk.

With one hand to his ear, listening to his comm, Kurj turned to Roca. "We're ready to transfer."

Her voice caught. "Bring him home, Kurj."

Gently he said, "I will." He thought of Dehya's warning to stay on SunsReach. The noise in future calculations was so large that in general it swamped the predictions themselves, making them useless. On rare occasions, a strong enough correlation existed to rise above the noise. Dehya believed she had found one. But what? She thought it could be anything from his death to a victory so great it altered history and his role in it, until he no longer resembled his former self enough to remain consistent in her calculations. Or her findings could be an artifact, with no meaning at all.

He regarded his mother. "If you see Ami before I do, will you tell her something for me?"

She nodded, her eyes glimmering with moisture. They both knew that with Roca headed to the planet Parthonia and he to the Orbiter, where Ami lived, no reason existed for her to see Ami first, unless something happened to him.

Tell her that I love her, he thought.

Her face gentled. I will.

Over the next ten minutes Kurj disembarked from Anvil and boarded Rampart. He installed himself in the command chair above the huge bridge, with its consoles, weapons grids, and comm stations crewed by his best officers. Anvil, now accompanied by a thousand s.h.i.+ps from Rampart's complement, inverted into superluminal s.p.a.ce, taking Roca to safety on Parthonia.

Kurj extended his mind throughout Rampart. Prepare to invert.

Accelerating. Rampart's voice rumbled in his mind like the booming vibrations of a ma.s.sive metal plate.

An ESComm Stinger hurtled out of inversion, its pa.s.sing hardly more than a wisp of ions in s.p.a.ce.

INVERT! Kurj shouted.

Wasps could reach inversion speed in seconds, using quasis to protect them from the crus.h.i.+ng accelerations. Frigates took longer, destroyers even longer. The Rampart needed three minutes. On an astronomical scale, three minutes was nothing.

On the scale of interstellar warfare, it was eternity.

Within the First second after the ESComm Stinger appeared, two more Stingers flashed into real s.p.a.ce and released warheads. One exploded an ISC Wasp and the other impacted a frigate in quasis, to no effect. During the next few seconds, fourteen more ESComm drones appeared and engaged the ISC craft.

Within fifty seconds, a Trader fleet nearly a thousand strong had burst out of inversion, preceded by waves of MIRVs, multiple independently targeted reentry vehicles that went after their prey with single-minded ferocity. Most of the s.h.i.+ps only had the chance to fire one shot as they raced past their targets. Faster s.h.i.+ps had time to reinvert into superluminal s.p.a.ce, if they survived the first volley, and come back for another pa.s.s.

The entire battle hurtled through s.p.a.ce. The larger ISC s.h.i.+ps continued to accelerate to inversion speed, the smaller craft remaining behind to defend them. Annihilators turned the void into a maelstrom of gamma radiation and high energy particles. Impactors released swarms of smart missiles that fused on impact, adding to the plasma. The battle expanded in a cone millions of kilometers long and thousands wide. Relative to the native dust floating in s.p.a.ce at mundane speeds, the s.h.i.+ps were squashed into flat coin shapes, their crews moving in slow motion.

The quasis s.h.i.+elds on the s.h.i.+ps began to fail. Klein fuel bottles collapsed, sucking the smaller s.h.i.+ps that carried them out of real s.p.a.ce and crippling larger ones. Schematics showed a chaos of wildly oscillating fields in s.p.a.ce as it became a raging sea of debris and plasma.

Initially far outnumbered by the ISC s.h.i.+ps, the ESComm drones died by the hundreds. But they kept coming, wave after wave after wave, their sheer numbers compensating for their lack of cohesion as a fighting force.

Embedded in his command chair, Kurj became part of Rampart. His mind extended throughout the web of a thousand-s.h.i.+p fleet. Indistinguishable from the web itself, he a.n.a.lyzed and responded at speeds far beyond normal human thought, the words becoming rapid-fire numbers and sounds that flashed like sparks in his mind.

Estimate size of ESComm force, he thought. Including s.h.i.+ps still in superluminal s.p.a.ce.

3,00010,000 s.h.i.+ps, Rampart answered.

Then Viquara's Glory blasted out of inversion.

Kurj turned his vast array of sensors on the battle cruiser. He "saw" in every wavelength of the EM spectrum, from languid radio waves to killing gammas. Fire Impactors. Dagger patterns 26.

Rampart and Glory engaged, two giants flooding each other with enough energy to sterilize a continent. In a fraction of a second, the barrage of missiles from Rampart took out over forty drones attending Glory, forcing Rampart into quasis jump after quasis jump to protect itself. Ions spiraled in a mad dance along magnetic field lines.

Quasis s.h.i.+eld on Glory penetrated, Rampart thought. 10 of its 48 inversion engines destroyed.

Fire Impactors, dagger patterns 715, Kurj thought.

Quasis jump, Rampart thought. I've lost 12 decks.

Kurj absorbed the damage reports and sent out his commands. Within seconds the breach in the hull was sealed and recovery teams dispatched to the damaged area.

Fire tau cannons 2638, he thought. Whip patterns 14.

The taus rocketed out of their cannons. Two of them hit ESComm frigates, exploding one while the other went into quasis. Four taus accelerated to near light speed and detonated against Glory's s.h.i.+elds, weakening the quasis. One tau blew up when its own quasis failed, and the last three taus inverted out of real s.p.a.ce. Two of the inverted taus reappeared "on top" their target, an ESComm destroyer guarding Glory's flank. The combined force of their explosions collapsed the destroyer's s.h.i.+elds and all three craft disappeared in a burst of radiation and debris.

The last tau dropped back into real s.p.a.ce within the Glory quasis field. For one millisecond the quasis remained coherent, holding the tau frozen in s.p.a.ce only meters above the cruiser. Then the relativistic force of the tau broke the quasis and the missile hit Glory's bridge at 96 percent of light speed. With a fountain of spewing debris, energy, and particles, explosions ripped through the battle cruiser.

Glory command web damaged, Rampart thought.