Shades of Gray (48 page)

The shuttle, flanked by a wing of fighters, flew low over the town, giving Zsurtul a clear view of just how bad the urban decay and poverty was.

“I don’t understand,” said the young King, looking away from the portholes to where Kusac and Kezule sat at the table. “My father was a good person. I know he implemented many schemes to help rebuild and revitalize our cities. What happened to them?”

“Your father relied too heavily on his advisers, King Zsurtul, and most of them were not honest men,” said Kezule. “Take us back now, Khayikule, if you please.”

“It appears not. This visit has taught me much, but how do we go about repairing it?”

“We need to visit each township and city and set up officers who will report directly back to you on conditions in their area. The people need to be united into helping themselves when given the tools to do so. Most importantly, they need to see you as the ultimate ruler again, Majesty. Doubtless petty lordlings will have taken over the more prosperous areas. They will need to be investigated and dealt with.”

“There must be some honest Primes on this world,” said Zsurtul.

“There are many, Majesty; we just need to find them and reward them for treating their people decently. It’s time to bring back the old system where each area sent a representative to your Court to sit on your Council. That will be one reward for being honest.”

“You could start with repairing that old irrigation system we’ve seen,” said Kusac. “With a proper water supply, you’ll have more crops and less hunger. It’ll also employ many of the people now idle. I also advise that as soon as you can, you take all heavy industry offworld and onto your moon again.”

Zsurtul nodded. “Those dark clouds from the foundry looked most unpleasant for those living nearby. Would the Ch’almuthians help? They have the worker genes; some of them injected into my people would perhaps stop them contemplating goodness knows what while their world falls around their ears!”

“They agreed to help me on Kij’ik, Majesty; I’m sure they’ll be willing to help you,” said Kezule.

“General, I know you wanted to have nothing to do with the Court and ruling K’oish’ik, but I really do need your expertise. What we are talking of doing on a large scale, you had started on Kij’ik. I’m asking you to accept the title of First Prime and remain here to help me accomplish what looks like a task for several lifetimes, not one.”

Kezule was silent for several minutes. The only sound to break it was the faint tapping of his claws on the table.

“I’ll stay, Majesty,” he said finally. He looked across at Kusac. “You told me to dare to be different and leave a positive legacy behind. You were right. Rebuilding our people into one caste again is a worthwhile task for any Prime or Valtegan.”

“Congratulations, Kezule,” said Kusac. “You’re the right person for the post. You bring to it the knowledge of where your people went wrong in the past so those mistakes won’t be made again.”

“Thank you from the bottom of my heart, General,” said Zsurtul, reaching out to take Kezule by the hand and shake it.

“I may have the memories, but half the time, I’m damned if I know where they come from,” Kezule muttered, returning the handshake.

Kusac’s ears pricked at that, but he held his peace for now. Later, when he and the General could be alone, was time enough to ask him about that.

“Your Brotherhood arrives later today,” Kezule was saying to him. “With them here, and if that corridor is working, we can make short shrift of moving those Ch’almuthians who want to emigrate here.”

“I’m sure L’Seuli will have no objection to helping,” said Kusac, grinning.

“What we will need is prefabricated buildings and facilities for them to live in until either those in the towns and cities are repaired or a new settlement is built,” said Kezule.

“There’s plenty of room on the plains below,” said Kusac, looking out of the porthole as they neared the Palace again. “There’s even a river. Perfect place for a temporary camp where people can be processed to their final new homes.”

“With the Ch’almuthians we’ll have the two main castes,” said Zsurtul. “What about the Warriors and M’zull?”

“We don’t need them. We’ll recruit and train our own people. If Inquisitor genes could survive, then out there must be some rogue Warrior genes. The Ch’almuthians themselves bred the few Warriors that were on their world back into their gene pool, so we’ll get them from there.”

“And there’re your commandos,” said Kusac.

Kezule’s face darkened. “We lost nearly half of them in the defense of the Emperor, damn K’hedduk!”

“His coup has decided one factor,” said Kusac. “We no longer need to guess where he’ll hit next. He has to come here, to K’oish’ik, and retake it, or unless I am very wrong, his Generals will depose him. You will have your revenge match at some point, Kezule.”

“You’re right. That runt of a half-breed will lose his throne on M’zull unless he makes us his priority.”

Zsurtul winced visibly at that.

“What?” asked Kezule, puzzled.

“I’m not exactly of pure blood myself,” Zsurtul murmured.

“Nonsense!” said Kezule, reaching out to grasp his young ruler by the shoulder. “It’s my bet that if we looked, we’d find you are a mix of the genes of all three castes, Zsurtul. You conducted yourself as a Warrior any father would be proud of.”

“But I didn’t save my mother or your daughter, and I nearly got myself killed.”

“You tried, and you fought against K’hedduk,” said Kusac. “How many in the Palace have done even a fraction of that?”

“As First Prime, I can award you the Medal of Valor, if you want,” said Kezule with a slight smile. “In fact, that’s a damned fine idea! You’ll be the first ruler in many centuries to have actually earned it.”

His color heightened, Zsurtul obviously was casting about for something neutral to say. “Oh!” he said, suddenly digging in his pocket. “I keep forgetting to give you this.”

Kusac took the rectangular red leather box and turned it over in his hand, seeing the ornate clasp on the front. “What is it?” he asked.

“Your necklace of norrta teeth,” grinned the youth. “The Palace jewelers made a lovely job of it, even made the case out of its hide for you. Have a look.”

He hesitated, but the wave of pleasure in giving him this gift was so strong from Zsurtul that he hadn’t the heart not to flip the catch and open the case.

Nestling on a bed of deep blue velvet, the five inch-long serrated teeth glowing ivory in their sliver settings, lay the necklace. It was almost barbaric, but the finely wrought links of chain between the teeth and at either end gave it a beauty beyond that. He lifted it out of the case to examine the chain more closely.

“It’s made of links,” he said, “and each one is riveted.”

“Yes,” nodded Zsurtul. “It’s the traditional design for it. It is a Warrior’s necklace, so the chain is a very fine one made of rings of mail interlinked. Wear it for good luck, Captain, not that I think you will need it. You get five teeth because you killed it, and Khadui got the other four.”

“Impressive,” said Kezule, bending to look at it. “I thought they were exaggerating about its size, but apparently not. Even in my time, killing one as large as that alone was a feat of bravery.”

“Put it on, Kusac,” said Zsurtul. “You should wear it with pride. Kij’ik arrives today, doesn’t it General? What do you plan to do with it?”

“Turn it into an offensive station. I’m hoping we can call on Touiban help to get the cannon working again, amongst other things. If we are going to be K’hedduk’s main target, we need to be able to defend ourselves properly.”

“There’s nothing the Touibans enjoy more than clambering over old technology and trying to make it work again,” said Kusac, dropping the chain over his head as their shuttle began to circle around to land in the front courtyard of the Palace. “I’m sure they’d be willing to help.” He closed the case and put it into his belt pouch.

 

Khassis stood on the podium at the lectern as behind her the representation of the current potentialities of the future dimmed and faded.

“All can see, war no longer encompasses the realms of our children or their allies. Accomplished that we have. Next, unified are the Sand-dwellers and Hunters. Side by side they fought. Before no aliens they tolerated, now many they call friend. This done without forcing Hunter male to Sand-dweller female. Little left now to do, except watch their final solution to Warrior Sand-dwellers.”

A rustle as Zaimiss got to his feet. “All are threatened by warlike Sand-dwellers. Final solution must ours be, not theirs. We have the experience, the vision of futures, not they. I Speak for obliterating them. While one survives, a danger to all they are.”

Shoawomiss rose. “Even do we Moderates doubt Warrior Sand-dwellers of M’zull have any use. But genocide not light decision.”

“Use drug Hunters produce,” said Shvosi sitting up on her cushions. “Alter into sterilizing one. Easy Shoawomiss to do, he there. Genocide not committed but threat gone after this generation.”

“That option more acceptable,” said Shoawomiss, the lenses in his eyes spinning as he looked around the hall. “We would Speak for that. Only females need be targeted.”

“No. They steal females from grow-world. All on M’zull must be sterilized for safety,” said Shvosi.

“Threat remains. Even sterilized will they plunder grow-world,” said Zaimiss. “Only death stops other potentialities from occurring.”

“We have not the right to decide this,” said Kuvaa, rising onto on her haunches. “Gods we are not! Means we have to give memories to Sand-dwellers, overwrite those they have. This should we do to them. Turn them aside from war is best solution!”

“Well said, Kuvaa,” said Khassis, looking around the murmuring hall. “Three proposals have you to think on. Destruction of all Sand-dwellers on M’zull, or sterilization, or, finally, memory adjustment in hopes it buries their nature forever.”

“Isolationists preach noninvolvement. Now they ask to meddle openly in destruction of whole caste of Sand-dwellers. How justify this?” demanded Aizshuss.

“We rectify errors made by you when you concentrated on saving Primes, not curbing M’zulls,” snapped Zaimiss.

Arguments went back and forth for some time with the majority of those in the Council favoring a more permanent solution. Finally Azwokkus rose from his cushions, his draperies dispersing a calming scent.

“There has been much talk. Vote now we must. I Speak for memory wiping. We are not Gods and must remember this.”

“I Second that,” said Kuvaa.

With a glance at each other, they sat down.

We will not win,
sent Shvosi through Unity to Kuvaa.
Too much fear of them there is.

“I Speak for termination of all Sand-dwellers on M’zull,” said Zaimiss.

One of his Isolationist friends Seconded him, as expected.

“Shoawomiss?” asked Khassis. “You Spoke for sterilization. Do you still Speak for that?”

“I do,” said Shoawomiss, bowing to the female TeLaxaudin. Again he was Seconded.

“Now the vote.”

It was a tied vote, equal numbers supporting genocide and sterilization, and as Shvosi had predicted, their proposition lost.

“Azwokkus, your votes will decide which path we take. Use them wisely.”

We support sterilization,
he sent to Shvosi and Kuvaa.
But this not the end of our proposal.

We meddle too much,
grumbled Kuvaa.

Hush, young one. Compromises divert attention,
sent Aizshuss.

Having spoken to all his voters through Unity, Azwokkus gave their decision to Khassis. “We vote for sterilization, only as lesser of two evils,” he said.

Khassis frowned at him. “Your strong comment is noted. Unity, tell us the decision now.

“Majority vote is for sterilization of M’zull Sand-dwellers,”
said Unity.

Shoawomiss got to his feet again, his drapery swirling like a cloud around him. “This task to Giyarishis must be given. My work is increasing with need to let Primes breed naturally. No more can I be taking on. Preliminary work he doing already on this.”

“Noted. Kuvaa, you will instruct Giyarishis on what he is to do,” said Khassis. “We will send him when he is ready the compound he is to use.”

Kuvaa rose up onto her haunches, her mobile nose wrinkling as if she smelled something bad.

“I do the Camarilla’s will,” she said.

“Attention I wish to draw to Hunter,” said Zaimiss. “Nexus he still is. Why do black moments surround him from time to time? Has answer to this puzzle been found?”

Khassis looked over to Kuvaa again.

“None yet. It is not the cub, as was thought. Neither Hunter nor Sand-dweller aware it happens.”