Of Fire and Night (44 page)

110

QUEEN ESTARRA

T
he next morning when Sarein came to take her, Estarra knew something was very wrong. “Chairman Wenceslas asked me to do this. He . . . gave me clear instructions. I’m sorry, Estarra.” A deeply troubled expression crossed her sister’s face, and she quickly turned away to hide it.

Estarra’s suspicions screamed silently inside her head.
Is this it?
She said bitterly, “I never thought it would be you, Sarein.”

She responded with a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“I half expected the royal guards to come in and gun us down, like the last Russian tsar and his family. But not my own sister.” On the other hand, Estarra had grown to trust Captain McCammon, to a certain extent.

“Don’t be melodramatic—I’m not going to hurt you, but I do need to show you something. Basil calls it your punishment.” Her dark eyes flashed quickly. “And how can I blame him?”

Estarra regarded her coolly. “So, did you verify any of the things I told you about? The attempts on our lives?”

Sarein’s voice grew very small. “Yes, I did. Now come with me, so we can get this over with.”

The Queen’s feet felt leaden, and the air was heavy with the smell of danger. The royal guards let them out of the normally blocked door, and Sarein led her down the bright corridor to the private gardens in the glassed-in royal conservatory.

When the two of them stepped inside, the smell hit her like a slap. She detected the odors of dirt and chemicals with a sour undertone of soot. This place had been a sanctuary for her, a beautiful room of peace that held reminders of her Theron home. Now the stench made her gag.

What has he done?

The once-lovely greenhouse was barren and brown. Plants had been poisoned and burned. Some were completely uprooted, others scraped away, leaving only empty soil. All the carefully cultivated specimens from Theroc were gone . . . especially the fauldur berries.

Sarein took three steps through the doorway and turned toward Estarra, her face stricken as she stared at her sister with wide and glistening eyes. “He did this just to hurt you. I could see it in his face. He knows you and Peter were involved in the poisoning plot. He can’t prove it, but that doesn’t matter.”

Estarra’s breath hitched. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the mangled plants, the brown and dying leaves. Just like the dolphins.
He finds something I love, and destroys it
. “This is just the start of it.”

Sarein stepped closer to wrap her arms around Estarra. Estarra could feel her sister trembling. Sarein whispered in her ear, making sure no one could overhear her. “I was skeptical of your story before, but now I know you were telling the truth. Basil isn’t the man I thought he was—not anymore—and I’m very, very afraid of what he might do next.”

Estarra said, “I told you, the Chairman means to get rid of Peter and me.”

After a long pause, Sarein said, “I’m afraid you’re right.” Still hugging Estarra and shielding them from the always hovering royal guards outside the ruined conservatory, Sarein whispered, “As far as I can see, your only alternative is to get away from here, somehow.”

Estarra was careful not to answer. Could they slip out of the Whisper Palace? Yes, it was possible—Prince Daniel had done it. Once they got away, she and Peter could wear nondescript clothes and just vanish into the city.

Peter had told her about his younger years as a street kid. She was sure the two of them could survive out there, find little jobs, obtain food. Peter had provided for his mother and brothers enough times in the past. They might be safe. They could never expect to live like a King and Queen, of course, but Estarra was not a pampered child and could endure whatever she had to. A twinge in her abdomen reminded her that she also had the baby to worry about. Would the Queen of the Hansa have to give birth in a dark alley?

Quickly and guardedly, Sarein said, “If you make any plans, don’t tell me. I can’t betray what I don’t know.”

Estarra looked at her sister. “If we do try to disappear, you know the Chairman will use every resource available to track us down. He hates loose ends. Where on Earth will we be safe?”

“You can’t be safe on Earth. But maybe on Theroc.”

“Then, Sarein—come with us. We can all go back home together.”

“I can’t do that!”

“How can you stay with him? You know what sort of man he is!”

“And I also know what sort of man he was.” Sarein continued in a rush, laying out her excuses as if they were bullet points in a trade presentation. “Besides, I am more useful staying here as a voice of reason. I can talk to Basil. I can act as an intermediary in difficult situations.”

Estarra could not argue with her sister. She found she could not walk any farther into the devastated conservatory. In a low voice, she said, “I’m never sure which side you’re on, Sarein. I thought you loved the Chairman.”

“I do—at least, I did. Or maybe I just thought I did. But you’re my
sister
. That will never change.”

111

KOLKER

T
o Kolker’s astonishment, he learned there was another green priest inside the Prism Palace. She came to see him. “We have a common bond. My name is Nira.”

He got to his feet quickly from the bench where he sat bathed in multicolored light from a prismatic window. Kolker looked at her smooth green skin and identified her as a storyteller and a traveler by the tattoos on her face. “How did you get here? Are you a prisoner as well?”

“Not a prisoner—not anymore. And neither are you.”

“I’ll be a prisoner until I can touch a worldtree again, until I can feel telink. It’s been so long.”

She reached out a callused hand. “Then come with me.”

In recent days, though Sullivan and the Hansa skyminers had finished their frantic work for the Solar Navy, Kolker had been spending a surprising amount of time with Tery’l. He had come to enjoy the company of the old lens kithman, and now he was actually interested in learning about the
thism,
about their belief in the soul-threads that bound all Ildirans together. It intrigued him to think that every member of this race was linked in a way that no humans, not even green priests, could be. The realization made him somewhat sad.

What he longed for most was to taste the buzz and flurry of the worldforest again, to reconnect with his friend Yarrod, to talk with all the other green priests. He had felt so lonely. But he knew the only treeling here had been destroyed. He thought, however, that maybe Nira could fill some of his emptiness, perhaps ease the pain of his isolation. He wondered where she was taking him.

“I disappeared a long time ago, but I’m here with the Mage-Imperator of my own free will.” Nira sketched out the basics of her story. Kolker already knew that Ildirans did many unbelievable things. When he heard what had happened to her, though, the shock was almost unbearable.

“Not all Ildirans are treacherous like that,” she assured him. “Let me show you.”

He followed her through winding bright corridors toward the glassed-in rooftops of the highest towers. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, and Kolker didn’t ask questions. There was so much he didn’t understand anymore.

Finally they emerged onto a rooftop where gardens had been planted. A maze of colorful shrubs and blooming flowers flourished in the bright sunlight. “I placed it up here, where it could spread its fronds under the open sky.”

When Kolker saw the tiny worldtree growing out of a lump of burned wood, his pulse began to pound. His hands reached out as if he were a drowning man grasping a lifeline. “Where—where did this come from?”

Tenderly, Nira bent over the charred wood from which fronds extended like sprouts from a redwood burl. “I was able to find life within this shard. By connecting through telink, and using the Mage-Imperator’s
thism
as a catalyst, I guided the forest mind back. The sap flowed, and the wood came alive again.”

Kolker had been starving for this connection ever since his own treeling had tumbled from the cloud harvester on Qronha 3. He remembered clinging to the potted plant, trying to remain in contact, but he had tripped. Even now he winced at the memory. His fragile treeling had spilled into the clouds.

Reverently yet ravenously, Kolker touched the thin, supple frond, and with a mighty rush his thoughts connected like a completed electrical circuit. Ever since he’d been cut off, he had imagined this euphoric moment.

In a flood that took both forever and merely an instant, Kolker learned everything, communicated everything. He traversed the thick forests of thoughts and memories, reconnecting with many of his comrades. Yes, Yarrod was there, and overjoyed to learn that his friend still lived. He sought but could not find Rossia, Clydia, or many other green priests he had known, but they were dead, fallen either in the second hydrogue attack or during the Soldier compy revolt.

The worldforest and his green priest friends now knew what had happened to him, what the Mage-Imperator had done to the well-meaning Hansa skyminers. But Nira had already told them other threads of the story, how Sullivan’s crew had been working frantically to assist the Solar Navy.

Kolker did not release the lump of wood, but continued to send and receive thoughts. He had tried to describe this sensation to the old lens kithman, but he hadn’t been able to convey the depth of the experience to Tery’l. He looked up at Nira with eyes full of gratitude. When he finally released his grasp, Kolker felt the residual tingle of what he had experienced. And yet . . .

Nira was smiling at him. “Now you have rejoined the worldforest. Isn’t that what you were waiting for?”

“Yes!” But inside he felt oddly empty. Blinded and starving, he had longed for this for so many months. So many months. He should have been overjoyed. To his surprise, though, it hadn’t been as magnificent as what he had described to Tery’l. Had he forgotten? Or had he himself changed?

After releasing the treeling, Kolker felt utterly disconnected again. Not like the
thism
bonds that the lens kithman described. Kolker found his return to the worldforest mind mysteriously dissatisfying, and he didn’t know what to think.

112

KING PETER

B
oth the King and Queen knew they were in the path of an oncoming storm. Estarra had been sickened by what happened to her lovely conservatory, and the malicious pleasure the Chairman obviously took in having Sarein show it to her, but they knew it was only an opening salvo. The destruction of the greenhouse was barely even a warm-up for what was going to happen to them.

Isolated in the royal apartments—though not as isolated as Basil assumed—Peter pored over the details of the Chairman’s latest daily summary briefing, which he wasn’t supposed to have. Captain McCammon had been forbidden to forward those reports to him anymore, but the summary had appeared on his screen unexpectedly that morning. Peter assumed Deputy Cain was the anonymous sender.

He drank in details about the defensive deployment of the EDF ships and Ildiran warliners, as well as the preparations being made on Earth for the imminent hydrogue attack. Chairman Wenceslas had figuratively tied the King’s hands, but as Peter flexed and twisted, he felt the invisible bonds begin to loosen. He and the Queen would have to do something drastic, and soon.

“Peter!” Estarra said, her voice a quick whisper.

He turned to see two figures standing at their door, unannounced. Captain McCammon and his three fellow royal guards blocked them, but McCammon seemed inclined to let the visitors through. One was Sarein, unsuccessfully trying to cover her furtive anxiety; the other figure was cowled, with a hood that shrouded his face and gloves that covered his hands.

Peter looked at Estarra, who gave a slight nod. “It’s all right, Captain. Let them in,” he said.

Sarein ducked into the chambers as if anxious to get out of view. The stranger with her stepped forward and pulled the hood back to reveal crude flesh-colored makeup smeared across his face to hide the emerald-green skin.

“Nahton!” Estarra sounded delighted, but the man remained grave.

Sarein drew a deep breath. “When I learned that Basil is intentionally keeping the green priest away from you, I knew I had to do something. I thought you needed to hear his urgent message. Nahton refuses to tell it to anyone but you two.”

Peter looked at McCammon, who stood at attention. “That will be all, Captain. Please close the doors.”

The guard captain looked narrowly at Sarein, uneasy to leave the two guests alone with the King and Queen, in light of the recent assassination attempts. Estarra gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s all right, Captain.”

“This is in direct violation of the Chairman’s orders,” he said. After a tense moment he lifted his chin. “However, it is wisest for the King to be included in important matters.” The royal guards gave them the privacy they needed.

Once they were alone, Nahton tilted his head down. “Chairman Wenceslas tried to force me to deliver my message to him instead of you, but I do not serve the Chairman. I do not serve the Hansa. I serve the worldforest.”

Feeling a thrill of possibilities run through him, Peter said, “We could certainly use the services of a green priest right now.”

“What is your news, Nahton?” Estarra said. Sarein looked eager to hear, but also afraid to know.

“I have to tell you what the Ildirans and the hydrogues plan to do. I must explain about the verdani battleships, great trees, some of which will come here to Earth. And what the Roamers are doing, and the wentals.”

And so the court green priest recited everything he knew, informing and warning the royal couple. Peter held Estarra’s hand, absorbing everything. Sarein listened with surprise, but added no comments.

When Nahton finished, the King said, “And I need you to do something for me. Talk to the green priests and send word to Estarra’s parents, so they know we need their help. We need Theroc. Also, I’ve got to get a message to the Roamers, make them understand that the Chairman’s will is not the King’s will. The Queen and I are being held prisoner, while Basil issues orders I abhor—in my name. I do not agree with what has been done to the Roamers. We need their ingenuity. We need all factions of humanity.”

Nahton nodded. “Green priests have been sent to many orphaned Hansa colonies, and those Hansa colonies interact frequently with Roamer traders. When I get back to my treeling, I will spread the word swiftly through telink.”

“Thank you, Nahton,” the Queen said. Then she scowled at her sister. “I suppose you’re now going to run to the Chairman with your report?”

Sarein looked decidedly uncomfortable as the green priest pulled up his hood and turned to go. “Even if I wanted to, I’m not sure he would want to be bothered with seeing me. Ever since I raised the alarm at the banquet, made Pellidor drink the poisoned coffee, Basil is . . . not certain about me.”

“Looks like you ruined things for everybody,” Peter said bitterly.

She gave him a haughty glance. “I would do it again if I had to.”

“We’ve all had to do things we never expected to do,” Estarra said. “Thank you for bringing him here, Sarein. I know how difficult it must have been for you.”

“It’ll be more difficult if we’re seen.” She seemed very anxious to be going. When Nahton had his disguise in place again, the two of them slipped out past the royal guards and into the labyrinth of the Whisper Palace.

Before he closed the door again, Captain McCammon stepped into the royal apartments. He hesitated, as if screwing up his courage and wrestling with his loyalties. He lowered his voice. “King Peter, at least five of my guards have come to me with grave concerns about the way the Chairman has handled the war and how he has treated you. They are not certain his intentions serve the best purposes of the Hansa.”

“That’s an understatement,” Peter said. “And what about you, Captain McCammon?”

“I thought I’ve made myself perfectly clear. I believe the Chairman has a great deal of blood on his hands—the blood of silver berets, of EDF crewmen, and potentially the whole human race. I believe many people died because you were not given vital and timely information. I won’t have that on my conscience again.”

“What are the names of these other guards?” Estarra said.

McCammon fidgeted. “They spoke to me in confidence. I feel obligated to protect their privacy.”

“I believe Queen Estarra means we would prefer for those particular guards to be assigned to watch over us,” Peter said. “There’s no telling what enemies we may have to defend against, and I’d rather have someone I can count on.”

McCammon smiled with relief. “That is something I can most certainly do, Your Majesty.”

That night Peter slept restlessly, knowing that at any time some assassin might come to kill him, to kill both of them. How long would Basil wait to act?

He awoke suddenly, startled to hear OX’s voice so close by their bed. “King Peter, Queen Estarra, there is a visitor who must speak with you.” Peter lurched upright. Outside, the Palace District lights gave off just enough glow for him to see their chambers. OX waited politely, as if embarrassed to be so obtrusive.

“Another visitor?” Estarra’s dark eyes flashed with fear.

As his eyes adjusted, he saw the spectral figure of a pale-skinned man next to the compy. “I apologize for this unorthodox and unscheduled meeting, King Peter. I felt that this circumstance was urgent enough to merit such a risk. You know your days are numbered.”

Deputy Cain had already helped them, but was anyone in the Hansa government to be completely trusted? Peter got out of bed. “The Chairman must have his eyes on you, too. Aren’t you afraid you’ll be seen? How did you get in here?”

The deputy raised a dismissive hand. “It is late at night, and I have enough connections to avoid suspicion for a brief time. Your royal guards were somewhat cooperative.” He found a chair and sat down. “If you had succeeded in killing the Chairman, that would have been a neat solution to our little dilemma. I would have become his replacement, and you and I could have reached an accord. However, that sort of coup is no longer possible. Chairman Wenceslas will never leave himself so vulnerable again, and he will eliminate you both very soon. I wouldn’t suppose you have more than a day or two before he creates some other ‘fanatical assassin lurking in the wings.’”

“So why did you come here?” Peter asked. “To tell us to say our prayers?”

“As I said, removing the Chairman is no longer an option. Therefore, you two have to leave. Preferably in a most unexpected way.” Cain extended several datapacks. “These contain the schematics of the hydrogue derelict. Our research team has achieved many breakthroughs, all of which are documented here. An enormous amount of data. Our researchers do not have the incentive to go beyond the theoretical stage, but you, on the other hand, might consider it an unexpected exit strategy.”

Peter took the datapacks. He realized that any traditional vessel would certainly be intercepted, outrun, and outgunned by the EDF watchdog ships swarming protectively around Earth. But they wouldn’t know what to do against the derelict—if it could be flown.

“And what about you, Deputy Cain? Care to make your exit as well? You know that Basil needs to be stopped for the good of the Hansa.”

Cain ran a finger over his colorless lips. “What I know and what I can accomplish are two different things. I have made numerous secret leaks to the media, but I dare not do more. My own involvement must remain completely confidential, and I have already done more than I should. If the Chairman were to find out, more than my employment would be terminated.” He drifted back into the shadows. “You can’t rely on me any longer. I gave you information you can use. You two will have to decide what to do. After this, I am done. I hope you succeed in whatever plan you work out.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing more you can do?” Peter asked, but Cain had melted into the dimness. He waited but heard no response. “Mr. Cain?” The deputy was gone.

OX remained with them. “As always, I would be pleased to help you plan and implement strategy, within the strict parameters of my programming.”

Peter glanced at OX, then returned his full attention to his wife. “We have to think beyond ourselves. While I need to save you and our baby, I know this is about more than just us. We have to take action for the good of humanity.”

He could see Estarra’s dark eyes even in the dimness of their quarters. “Peter, Chairman Wenceslas makes a serious error when he considers
humanity
to be only the members of the Hansa. He has disenfranchised the Roamers, and the Therons, and countless colonists on the worlds he’s already written off. There’s a whole lot more to the human race than those few the Chairman bothers to recognize.”

Peter looked at her. “So, what are you saying?”

She took his hand. “Sarein made the suggestion in the greenhouse yesterday. You are the King, and I am the Queen. If it’s not safe for us to rule on Earth, then we have to go somewhere else. Theroc would take us in. It’s perfect. And . . .” She lowered her voice. “I would very much like to go home.”

“We can’t do anything for humanity unless we’re alive,” he agreed, holding the datapacks Cain had given them. “But getting away from the Whisper Palace isn’t good enough to accomplish what we need. If the King and Queen disappear, Basil will cover it up and simply install Daniel as King.”

“And humanity will keep sliding over the brink.”

Peter’s gaze hardened. “We don’t dare leave Basil with any options. When we go, we have to take Daniel out of the picture, too.”