Skolian Empire: The Radiant Seas Part 26

Vitrex nodded absently, his gaze on Althor. The Ruby prince watched him with no sign of recognition. Given Althor's drugged state, Vitrex doubted the man would recognize himself. But even with inadvisably high doses, the truth serums so far had achieved nothing.

"My greetings, Prince Althor," Vitrex said.

Althor moistened his cracked lips. "My greetings."

"I understand you've been chatting with my people," Vitrex said.

Althor just looked at him. A muscle twitched under his eye.

"I believe you and Oq were discussing Onyx Sector," Vitrex continued. "Weapons deployment, wasn't it?"

Althor spoke in a hoa.r.s.e voice. "I couldn't tell you anything even if I wanted to. You know that."

"But you do want to, don't you?" Vitrex gentled his voice. "It would make life so much easier. Think of the rewards. A nice meal, a soft bed, a carafe of wine."

"I can't," Althor rasped.

Vitrex sighed. "That is unfortunate." He glanced at Oq. "Continue."

Oq entered commands on his palmtop. Vitrex knew the process. The palmtop would send instructions to IR receivers in Althor's collar, wrist, and ankle restraints. Oq's team had linked the picotech in the slave restraints to Althor's internal biomech system, using the sockets in his neck, wrists, and ankles. The restraints also extended neural fibers into his body. At Oq's command, those fibers would stimulate Althor's nerves while other signals impeded attempts by his biomech web to m.u.f.fle the effect.

Althor's body went rigid and he made a choked sound. Then he screamed. Vitrex struggled to remain detached. He considered himself a compa.s.sionate man. Even knowing providers were less than human, he allowed that they could earn elevation of a sort. He regretted their pain but consoled himself with the knowledge that by allowing providers to elevate themselves, through their suffering, Aristos granted them a gift they would never earn on their own, as they were too weak to accept the price it exacted.

Vitrex saw Althor as an abomination, a provider who sought to elevate himself to the level of a Highton, an exaltation forbidden slaves. Even worse, he expected to take it without paying any price at all. Vitrex felt neither sympathy nor joy for Althor's agony, only a relief that the universe as he understood it had been made right again.

Roca sat in the dark. Across the room, a gold b.u.t.ton glowed on the web console, the only light in the living room.

A rustle came from the archway that led into the bedroom. "Roca?" Eldrinson asked.

She kept staring at the darkness.

"Come back to bed," her husband said.

"I can't." Lying in bed without sleeping was even worse than sitting out here without sleeping. She spoke softly. "I wonder where Dehya is."

"She will come back."

"Maybe she no longer exists." Roca felt numb. "At least before all this happened, Eldrin had seen her. Now she's vanished. Into the web. Drifting forever."

"Roca, don't." Her husband came over and sat next to her. He pulled her into his arms, resting his head against hers. "Althor will come home. You will see."

Her protective numbness disintegrated. "I can't ... I-Eldri, I can't bear this. They killed Kurj. They killed Soz. They killed Kelric. I can't stand to think what they're doing to Althor." Her voice broke. "How many of our children do they want?" Tears slid down her face. "Kurj was finally healing. Finally, after so long."

"He died the way he would have wanted. In battle."

"A great battle," she said bitterly.

Softly Eldrinson said, "He sent me a message after you two left Skyhammer."

"What did it say?"

"Just this: 'Father, the Skyhammer biology web node is down. We need to fix it.'"

It took Roca several heartbeats to absorb what was unusual about the message. "He called you Father?"

His voice caught. "Yes. It was the last thing he ever said to me."

16.

Viquara surveyed the office: black diamond walls, topaz floor, ruby furniture. The emperor's office. Her office. But for how long? She clung to power by a spider thread, the promise of the Qox heir she carried. Ur had no close relatives, both his sister and brother having died long ago. Accidents of course. That those accidents happened soon after he discovered they coveted the Carnelian Throne was a lesson Viquara had noted.

Who now most threatened her claim? Her spies brought four names: Calope Muze and Corbal Xir, both of the Qox bloodline, old even by Highton standards, the only Aristos with white hair; Intelligence Minister Izar Vitrex, whose name-plus-t.i.tle was an oxymoron if ever she had heard one, besides which he was married to the irritating Sharla Azer; and Kryx Quaelen, who had no basis for a claim to the Carnelian Throne but might very well be the most dangerous of her opponents.

So the empress held an auction.

Viquara flicked her finger through the holicon of a file that floated above the desk, bringing up the record of her late husband's estate. She was selling most of his providers at public auctions, but the best would go in private auctions. An invitation to such an auction from the palace was an esteemed honor. And she had known exactly whom to honor.

She flicked another holicon and the wall to her right activated, showing a vibrant image of the Sky Pavilion with its hanging silk panels dyed in blue, gold, or rose. Breezes from the palace gardens rippled the silks and suns.h.i.+ne filtered through them. At a low table in one room, three men reclined in loungers: Izar Vitrex, Kryx Quaelen, and Corbal Xir. The slave girl Cirrus was kneeling by Quaelen, pouring red wine into his goblet.

Although the "girl" looked in her teens, her file listed her as almost thirty. She had perfect skin, blushed with color. The proportions of her voluptuous body were such that both Vitrex and Quaelen had challenged the veracity of the specifications sent prior to the auction. But they could see for themselves now. Cirrus wore a halter made from soft gold. Metal blossoms covered her nipples, but the halter was otherwise little more than gold strips tooled into vine patterns. Her only other garment was a skirt of rose gauze, midthigh in length and slung low on her hips, held in place by a gold belt. Her attire nicely matched the pavilion decor, as Viquara had intended. One had to conduct a palace auction with style, after all.

She had included Cirrus's accessories in the sale, the wrist and ankle cuffs and the matching collar, all made of a diamond-steel alloy. Packed with picotech, the slave restraints not only monitored Cirrus, they also spied on everyone around her. Of course, if the buyer kept the accessories, he would undoubtedly reprogram them. But Viquara knew her spytech. She felt confident that at least some of her hidden routines would remain operational.

The delicate gold circlet on Cirrus's upper arm monitored her health and could be removed only with proper equipment. If anything endangered her, it alerted her owner and had a limited capacity to inject nanomeds. Her glossy hip-length yellow hair had enhanced body and softness, her angel's face glowed with a creamy enhanced complexion, and her gigantic eyes were enhanced to an intense blue. All in all a package well worth the floor bid of a million Viquara had set.

As Cirrus poured wine for the bidders, they debated a recent trade agreement. Although Viquara recorded the conversation, she doubted it contained anything useful. The bidders knew they were being monitored and would guard their words.

After Cirrus finished pouring the wine, she stayed by Corbal Xir. The elderly Highton played with her hair, running his fingers through it. His gestures looked absent-minded, but Viquara knew he was examining the merchandise.

Viquara had never liked Corbal Xir. He smiled too much. He also had strange ideas. She once heard him argue that Hightons, as a higher form of life, had a duty to resist transcendence. Izar Vitrex, now, he made sense. He came from an old line, well esteemed, a paragon of Highton values, his line so inbred that they all looked the same, even by Aristo standards. A gangly bunch of polestorks if there ever was one.

Kryx Quaelen was as aberrant as Cobal, but in the opposite direction. He didn't give a kiss in h.e.l.l about what his providers suffered. And he was too smart. He sat sprawled in his lounge, his muscular body stretched out, broad shoulders held with the ease of a man who came by them naturally rather than through bodysculpting. Viquara noticed his height, his long legs, the sheen of his hair, the strong cast of his features. Then she flushed.

Pah, Viquara thought. She flicked a long finger through another holicon floating above her desk, the tiny image of a ledger. The latest tally immediately appeared on the glossy black surface. Corbal had upped his bid to 1.8 million, topping Quaelen's 1.7 million. In the Sky Pavilion, Vitrex brushed his finger across his palmtop and his bid of 1.9 million appeared on the tally.

Quaelen motioned to Cirrus. She rose gracefully and went to kneel in front of him. Lifting her chin, he turned her face from side to side. Then he ran his fingertip over a blossom on her halter. Before long he and Vitrex were engaged in a debate about whether or not her endowments would succ.u.mb to gravity enough to hold a lightpen under them if their means of support were removed. Quaelen unfastened her halter and took it off, revealing her attributes in all their glory. Her physical charms did nothing for Viquara, but then, she supposed her preferences in pleasure youths probably wouldn't do much for the bidders either.

Corbal produced a pen and handed it to Vitrex, who handed it to Quaelen, who placed it under the mammary in question. The pen fell down Cirrus's torso, evoking a ripple of amus.e.m.e.nt from the bidders. They launched into a discussion of recent advances in suspension engineering, incorporating so many innuendos to Cirrus that Viquara had to smile. The girl sat motionless, her gaze averted. Only Viquara noticed her frozen expression and clenched jaw. The bids rose at a rapid rate, up to 2.8 million.

So Viquara watched, alternately entertained and bored. When the bidders finished their meal, they took Cirrus into the silk-draped bedroom and Viquara found herself aroused as well. Corbal held less interest for her, being her great-grandfather's age, and Vitrex wasn't her type. But Kryx Quaelen-ah no, she had to resist that lure to his contaminated line.

Corbal seemed to offer Cirrus genuine affection. Vitrex soon grew bored with her lack of enthusiasm and his bids fell off. It irked Viquara. He had known ahead of time Cirrus came from a stock of providers bred for pa.s.sivity. Quaelen took the girl with a powerful virility that Viquara didn't notice. Not at all. She had no interest in the way his big hands moved on a woman's body, no interest in how his well-developed muscles flexed and tensed as he moved, no interest in how he wrapped his hand in Cirrus's hair and pulled back her head to kiss her, or in the way he handled a woman with such self-a.s.surance. No, Viquara most certainly had no interest in any of it at all.

It wasn't until evening spread its shadows over Glory that the three Hightons took their leave of the pavilion. Their bids continued to rise, topped by 8.4 million from Quaelen.

Viquara glanced around her office. Her Razer bodyguards all stood at their posts, severe in midnight blue uniforms. She paged Security and another Razer soon appeared, Lieutenant Xirson, a recent addition to the force. Impressed with Xirson's military record, Ur had bought him from Corbal Xir and added him to the palace secret police.

Xirson bowed. "My honor at your presence, Your Highness."

"Bring me the girl," Viquara said.

After Xirson left, she checked the auction tally. The bids were coming in slower now, as they reached levels that strained even the immense financial resources of their makers. Corbal put in one for 9.6 million and no others followed.

Xirson reappeared with Cirrus, the girl once again dressed in her halter and translucent skirt. As Cirrus knelt in the center of the room, Viquara dismissed the Razers, including her bodyguards. Then she closed the door and went to her desk to check her security systems. Finally she turned to Cirrus. Still kneeling, with her head bowed, the girl s.h.i.+vered in the chill air.

"You may rise," Viquara said. As Cirrus got up, her arms hugging her torso, Viquara motioned to a velvet cloth on a table. "You may warm yourself."

The girl's arms shook as she took the cloth and wrapped it around her body. She spoke in a soft voice. "You honor me far beyond what I deserve, Your Esteemed Highness."

True, Viquara thought. She settled herself into the big chair behind her desk. "What do you have for me?"

"Minister Vitrex wonders if you know about his son."

Good. Let Izar sweat. No proof existed that he had contributed to Ur's death, but she had her suspicions. "What else is he up to?"

"He is planting suggestions that your child is the b.a.s.t.a.r.d of another man rather than your husband's heir."

It didn't surprise Viquara. Originality had never been one of Vitrex's strengths. His timeworn techniques would be easy to counter with her network of far more subtle mudslingers.

"Anything else?" she asked.

Cirrus nodded. "Lord Corbal has finance problems. A long time ago he invested money in guilds that bought from frigates working Allied territory. Since the frigates have been forbidden to harvest providers from Allied s.h.i.+ps, he has lost a lot of wealth."

That intrigued Viquara. Based on the size of Corbal's bids, she would never have guessed he suffered financial trouble. The besotted old Highton must really want Cirrus. She checked the tally. Only one more bid had come in, 9.8 million from Quaelen.

"What about Minister Quaelen?" she asked.

Cirrus tensed, her face turning red.

"Out with it," Viquara said.

The girl wouldn't look at her. "While he was with me, he was thinking of someone else."

"Really?" Viquara smiled, fascinated. "Who might that be?"

"He, um, he-I mean..."

"Come on, girl. Speak up."

"You, Your Highness."

Viquara blinked. Quaelen had fantasized he was making love to her? This was unexpected.

Cirrus had no more to offer on that, but she provided many other useful tidbits. The girl's ability to extract information impressed Viquara. Ur had done good work with this one. But then, Ur always did well. Viquara swallowed, remembering his laugh, his hooded eyes, his powerful voice. Gone. All gone.

One more bid came in, 10.1 million from Vitrex. She put out a call for final bids, but neither Quaelen nor Corbal responded. So she closed the auction and regarded Cirrus. "You will go to Vitrex."

Cirrus nodded, huddled in her blanket.

"You understand our arrangement?" Viquara asked.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Viquara wondered if the girl could actually carry it through. "Repeat it to me."

"I'm to send psion transmissions about the Vitrex household to your provider Cayson. I should only do it when I'm secluded from other people, especially other providers. So n.o.body can eavesdrop." She paused. "And only at the times you said, so Cayson is also prepared."

Viquara waited. Then she prompted, "What about distance?"

"Oh. Yes." Cirrus flushed. "I'm to try no matter how far away I am."

"Good." The interactions fell off rapidly with distance, so Viquara doubted Cirrus would get much through. But any little bit might help. "As long as you please the Throne, your son will be raised as befits a wellborn taskmaker. He will have an education and a home here."

Cirrus's voice caught. "Thank you, Your Highness. You are the most kind and benevolent of all human beings."

Well, of course, Viquara thought. "It is only fitting. He is the son of an emperor, after all."

A tear rolled down Cirrus's face. "Much to my honor."

"Come." Viquara stood up. "You may tell the boy goodbye. Then we will get you delivered to Vitrex."

They all sat at the conference table in the Strategy Room on the Orbiter: Web Key Eldrinson Valdoria, his son Eldrin Valdoria, First Councilor of the a.s.sembly Barcala Tikal, and the rest of the Inner a.s.sembly: Stars, Industry, Nature, Judiciary, Protocol, Life, Planetary Development, Finance, and Domestic Affairs. And Roca, the Councilor for Foreign Affairs.

"I understand your objections," Tikal told Roca. "But you're the only choice."

Judiciary leaned forward. "Councilor Roca, surely you see this."

Roca felt trapped. Kurj had chosen three heirs to follow him as Imperator, and all were gone now, two dead and the third a prisoner of war. The Triad needed an Imperator. Roca knew she was no war leader, but who else in the Ruby Dynasty could a.s.sume the t.i.tle?

As First Heir to the Web Key, her son Eldrin had trained to follow his father and had even less experience than she with ISC. The twins Del and Chaniece, her next children after Eldrin and Althor, still lived on their home world Lyshriol. They watched over their father's farm in his absence and carried out his duties as the Dalvador Bard. At one time those duties included commanding the Dalvador regiment of the Rillian army, but after Althor had ended warfare on Lyshriol, the position became t.i.tular. Not that it mattered. Chaniece had no interest in warfare and Del's experience with sword and lance hardly qualified him to lead Imperial s.p.a.ce Command.

Havyrl, born after the twins, had a doctorate in agriculture. He had earned his degrees from Royal College on the planet Metropoli, without ever leaving home, by attending through the web as a holographic simulacrum, a method possible only to those who could access psibers.p.a.ce. Content to leave politics to his siblings, he spent the next fifty years farming and making babies with his wife. Soz had been born the year after Havyrl, and then Denric, who taught school to disadvantaged children on the planet Sandstorm. Deni's gentle nature worked wonders with his students but hardly qualified him to run ISC. Shannon ran off at sixteen with a band of Rillian archers, and Aniece had become the child bride of Lord Rillia by seducing him when she was far too young to know about such things. Kelric, their youngest, had died in combat sixteen years ago.

The only other choice was Taquinil, Dehya and Eldrin's son. A brilliant economist, he had once calculated futures with such uncanny accuracy that the dismayed Office of Finance actually pa.s.sed a law forbidding him to work the stock market. But he was already Crown Prince to the Ruby Throne, besides which he had no military experience. And a more serious problem existed.

When Dehya and Eldrin finally gave in to the demands of the a.s.sembly and had a child, their son Taquinil suffered the price of inbreeding. Born of two psions already at the limit of what humans could endure in empathic sensitivity, he couldn't block any empathic input. As a boy, he lived in an unending onslaught of emotions, until finally his personality shattered. Confused and terrified, he hid his many personalities from everyone, including other telepaths, even himself. He was in his teens by the time his condition became too severe to hide any longer. So began his long healing. Fixing his defective genes would have destroyed his Rhon ability, so instead he took biomech in his body, to synthesize the kylatine and neurotransmitters his brain lacked. With help he eventually reintegrated his personalities, but he was in no position to a.s.sume command of ISC.