Skyfall (25 page)

Eldri inclined his head in greeting. He liked having names for people. But as reasonable as they sounded, he felt uneasy. These people made him feel somehow lacking.

The other man spoke. “Your Majesty, I am ****.” His name was sounds rather than words.

Eldri squinted at him. “What did you say?”

He and the woman looked at each other. Then he repeated, “I am****.”

“I cannot understand you,” Eldri said.

The man spoke slowly, as if Eldri were a child. “That was my name. I am a doctor. A person who heals other people. Do you know what this means?”

“Yes, of course.” Eldri didn’t like the way this fellow addressed him. He thought of the destruction wrought by the minions of the Skolian warlord, who was apparently Roca’s human son. “What has injured my people is not easily healed.” He indicated the crews working outside. “They can make the walls whole but the emotional scars are far deeper.”

“Perhaps you don’t understand,” the doctor began.

Cary Undell spoke up. “I think he understands exactly what you mean.” When the doctor frowned at him, Cary ignored him and spoke to Eldri. “May I ask a question about your health?”

Eldri cocked an eyebrow. “And if I say no? Will I fail this test you are all giving me?”

Tyra stiffened, the doctor scowled, and Cary grinned.

“What makes you think we are testing you?” Tyra asked.

Eldri waved his hand at her. “Just ask your questions.”

Cary began. “I was wondering if—”

“All right,” the doctor interrupted, his gaze hard on Eldri. “Please tell us, Your
Majesty,
exactly what you know about your generalized tonic-clonic seizures. Do you have thoracic contractions? Instances of status epilepticus?”

Eldri considered him. “Why do you want me to fail this test?”

Cary laughed, then shut his mouth abruptly when the woman frowned at him. The doctor’s expression hardened.

Tyra spoke carefully to Eldri. “Please accept my apologies if we have given offense.”

“You do not give offense,” Eldri said. “But you baffle me.”

The doctor leaned forward. “What confuses you?”

“I didn’t say I was confused.”

Cary’s lips quirked up. Tyra shook her head slightly at him, then turned back to Eldri. “What baffles you?”

“Why do you want to talk about my seizures?” Eldri was fairly certain “seizure” was the right word, because Roca had used it when she talked about his attacks, and she had also used words similar to what the doctor had just said.

Cary leaned forward. “Then you are aware that what happens to you are seizures? Not possession by demons?”

Eldri could tell he was in precarious territory now, though this enemy was more difficult to understand than Lord Avaril. “I know I have epilepsy.” Although he found the word difficult to pronounce, Roca had said it enough that he thought he had it right. “My wife claims you Skolians can treat it. Is this true?”

Tyra answered quietly. “We think so. We need to do more tests before we can give you specific answers.”

“When the doctors examined you after the battle here,” Cary said, “they found traces of sodium bromide in your body. Do you know what that is?”

“My wife used those words.” Eldri had no idea what they meant, but he suspected this wasn’t the best time to reveal that. “We hoped it would heal me.”

“Did you experience any convulsions during the battle?” the doctor asked. Although hostility remained in his mind, his interest in Eldri’s health overrode it for now.

“No, actually,” Eldri said. “But I have had two of the big ones in the two months since then. More of the smaller.”

“If you consent to an examination,” Tyra said, “we can set up a plan of treatment for you.”

He stiffened. “What does ‘treatment’ involve?”

“You will probably have several options. We could give your body a type of medicine called nanomeds. They will release chemicals to control the seizures. Some interlock with neurons and prevent them from firing. You could take medicines orally or with a syringe.” She paused. “Sometimes it is possible to operate on the brain and heal what causes the seizures. In your case, we don’t think that will work.”

Eldri didn’t understand most of what she said, but it all sounded horrendous. “And if I don’t have this treatment? What will happen to me?”

The doctor spoke, his dedication to healing stronger than his obvious dislike of Eldri. “You may be at risk for status epilepticus. It means the seizure doesn’t stop or that you have several without your body recovering in between.” Quietly he added, “It could kill you.”

Eldri pushed his hand through his hair. He knew, from what Garlin had told him, that he had suffered several bouts similar to what they described, though perhaps not as serious. It had terrified Garlin, and afterward Eldri had felt as if he were coming back from the dead. He never wanted to experience it again.

He steeled himself. “Very well. You may do your tests.”

His answer seemed to be what they wanted to hear. The men flicked their fingers through the holos above their palmtops.

Eldri rested his forearms on the table, clasping his hands as he sought to appear more composed than he felt. “And my wife? My son? Have you news of them?” His heart beat hard.

The doctor spoke curtly. “No.”

Despite Eldri’s determination to project calm, his voice caught. “Surely you must know if they are well. Anything.”

Tyra answered more gently. “From what we have heard, your wife and the boy are doing fine.”

Eldri nodded, striving for control. “Thank you.”

He held back his sorrow, knowing he could only shed his tears alone, away from these unwelcome strangers.

K
urj pressed the panel on Roca’s door again. A chime echoed inside, but no one answered. Trees rustled around him, making dappled shadows on the graceful house, with its peaked roof and intricately carved gables. His inner lids covered his eyes, giving the scene a gilded quality, as if it were an anachronism, an old-fashioned photograph.

“Primary Skolia?” a voice asked.

Kurj looked around. “Who is that?”

“The house EI. Would you like to enter?”

He could imagine what his mother would say if he walked into her home without her consent, especially with the strain between them so great these past four months, since he had taken her from Skyfall. “No. I will return when she is here.”

“The Councilor should return soon. She went for a walk. However, you are on the list of visitors I may allow entry.”

That surprised him. He had thought she wanted him to vanish from her life altogether. “Perhaps she forgot to remove my name.”

“She updated the list this morning.”

Interesting.
“Then I will wait inside.”

The door shimmered and faded, offering him access. He walked through the entrance foyer into the airy living room full of sunlight, with high ceilings that created attractive spaces.

A curvaceous girl with blond hair and a pretty face came out of an inner room. When she saw Kurj, she froze, her face paling. Then she dropped onto one knee and bowed her head.

Kurj paused. Why was this stranger here? He couldn’t help but notice the way her white dress fit her ample breasts. He went over to her. “Please stand.”

She rose to her feet, her gaze averted. “My honor at your presence, Prince Kurj.”

He scratched his chin. “Who are you?”

“Callie Summerlet. Eldrin’s nurse.” She glanced up with a hesitant smile, but her agitation came through clearly. His size frightened her, as did his title and reputation.

Now that he thought about it, he did remember his mother mentioning she had a girl look after Eldrin for a few hours in the afternoon. By using the Kyle webs and VR technology, Roca could do her work as a Councilor from this house, but she still needed some help with the baby.

It aggravated Kurj that Roca continued to outwit him and attend the Assembly. He couldn’t even demand someone else deal with the Skyfall situation. Had it already been a Skolian world, it would have come under the auspices of Planetary Development and Domestic Affairs. But no, the accursed Allieds had to claim it. Until the Assembly cut a deal with them, it continued to be an Allied world, which made it the purview of the Foreign Affairs Councilor. Pah. He had to block her transmissions. She was far too effective a speaker.

That was no reason, however, to alarm this attractive person. Kurj found her lovely, the type of woman he favored. He moderated his voice into a friendly tone. “How is my brother?”

Her enthused smile lit up her face, taking away her shyness. “Ah, Your Highness, he is such a delightful baby.”

The room lost its gold tinge as his inner lids raised. “I’m glad.”

“Would you like to see him?”

He thought of Eldrin, and an inexplicable warmth came over him, a feeling difficult to define. “Yes. I would like that.”

Callie led him into a bedroom. A white cradle stood by the bed, rocking under its own power. Designs covered it, soft-looking animals with round faces, smiles, and large eyes.

Kurj peered inside. Eldrin was as hale and healthy as ever, but much quieter than usual, taking a nap. Odd that such a small human could make so much noise when awake and look so beatific when asleep. Kurj felt the same softening inside that always came to him when he saw his brother. Bending over, he touched the baby’s cheek. Eldrin stirred and made sucking motions with his lips.

“He is remarkable, isn’t he?” Kurj couldn’t keep the wonder out of his voice. Abruptly remembering the girl, he straightened up and schooled his face to impassivity. The room turned gold.

“Would you like to hold him?” Callie’s blue eyes had a glow that made her even more inviting. Kurj thought surely she must be trying to tempt him, but from her mind he could tell her eagerness came from her affection for Eldrin rather than any interest in him. Disappointing, that.

“I don’t want to wake him.” Kurj wondered what Callie would do if he kissed her. Probably scream. That was the trouble with being an empath; he couldn’t convince himself a woman wanted him unless she really did. If he pressured her, he would experience her fear. It would make him feel like a monster. Like Darr. At times, he became so angry, it gave his passion an edge, frightening some of his lovers and exciting others. It was an aspect of his personality he chose not to examine too closely, lest he find he was no different than the Traders who considered it their right to inflict brutality on the rest of humanity.

What held him in check was the memory of what his father had told him so long ago, that loving a woman meant kindness and compassion. Perhaps Tokaba hadn’t actually said the words, just shown them in his every action toward Roca. It had been so long.

“I think he would like it if you held him,” Callie was saying. “He seems to like sleeping that way.”

Startled out of his contemplation, Kurj reoriented on the baby. Again he experienced that disconcerting warmth. Odd. Perhaps he had caught a virus. But he didn’t feel sick. Looking at Eldrin relaxed him, though why, he didn’t know.

He lifted up the drowsy child. Over the past four months he had become comfortable holding Eldrin, as he realized his sturdy brother wasn’t going to break. He settled in the rocking chair, Eldrin in his arms, and rocked back and forth. He was glad none of his officers could see him. Gods only knew what this scene would do to his reputation.

He knew he shouldn’t let himself be so easily affected by this tiny life, this child sired by a man who would destroy Roca if Kurj didn’t stop him. Yet whenever he saw Eldrin, a deep, abiding emotion filled him unlike any he had known before. He wanted to give the universe to Eldrin. A fierce determination rose within him: he would do anything to protect this child.

Anything.

Roca paused in the doorway, touched by what she saw in the room beyond: Kurj Skolia, formidable warlord of ISC, asleep with his baby brother in his arms. For a while she simply stood, savoring the scene, knowing that if she moved, Kurj’s hair-trigger reflexes would awake him, destroying this rare moment.

Despite her attempts to stay quiet, he soon stirred, his eyes opening, first his outer lids, then his inner. “Mother?”

“My greetings,” she said.

He shifted Eldrin in his arms and rubbed his eyes. It reminded Roca of when he had been a small child awaking from his nap. He had always vigorously objected to taking it, then immediately dropped off into a deep sleep. That was before he had grown up and enhanced his body until he could achieve the equivalent of sleep by recharging parts of himself. He claimed he needed only two hours of sleep a night now, but she had her doubts.

“How long have I been here?” he asked, groggy.

“Several hours. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Kurj stood up, holding Eldrin. “I shouldn’t have slept. I have work to do.”

“You work too hard.” When Kurj scowled at her, she couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad you came to see him.”

“Actually, I came to see you. Business matters.”

Roca tried to fathom his mood. Usually when they discussed business, they met in his office or hers. Today he seemed pensive, seeking connections with his family. This gentler side of him made her remember his youth, in the days when she could still reach him.

Eldrin began to squirm, twisting toward her. Then he let out a hearty wail.

Kurj winced. “I think he likes you better than me.” He came over and put Eldrin in her arms. When the baby nuzzled her breast, Kurj averted his gaze, his face reddening. His embarrassment was strong enough that his mood came to her despite both her own barriers and those Kurj used to protect his mind.

He didn’t know how to deal with this aspect of her. It confused and angered him, and it evoked a tenderness he strove to repress. Roca wanted to weep for knowing that he believed having gentler emotions weakened him.

Eldrin cried out again, a softer protest.

“He is hungry,” Roca murmured. “Can you wait in the living room?”

Kurj nodded stiffly. “Of course.” Then he left.

After Roca nursed Eldrin, he fell asleep. She rocked him for a while, then tucked him into his cradle and returned to the front room. Kurj had settled on the couch, taking up a good portion of it, and was engrossed in the holos above a film he had unrolled on the table in front of him.

“You look so serious,” Roca said.

He glanced at her with a start. “I was answering web-mail.”

“Bad news?”

He straightened up, rolling his shoulders. “This supposed offer the Traders made to negotiate is draining impetus from my officers.”

Her anger sparked. “How can you fault them for wanting peace?”

He frowned at her. “This is exactly the discord the Traders want their ‘offer’ to create. They seek to divide our leadership and weaken our morale. And they’re succeeding.”

Roca bit back her answer. She and Kurj could argue this for eternity and never agree. To calm down and keep from saying words she might later regret, she walked into the room and settled into a smart-chair, stretching out her legs. The chair shifted subtly, trying to ease her tension. Usually it only took a few moments to find the right shape, but today it kept readjusting well after she had sat down. Had it come to this, that she responded to Kurj as if he were an enemy in her own home? It grieved her, this winter in their relationship.

She spoke carefully. “What brings you to visit?”

He answered with similar caution. “I thought you would like to know. The doctors have finished checking the DNA for Eldrinson and your son.”

Roca had wondered how long he would keep them checking. It shouldn’t have taken this much time. She felt as if she were on a precipice. Her love for Eldri wouldn’t change if he wasn’t as strong a psion as she thought, but it would weaken the support for her marriage she had so carefully built in the Assembly these past four months.

“What do they say?” she asked.

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “You were right. Both Eldrinson and Eldrin are Ruby psions.”

“Ai, Kurj!” Her relief overflowed her restraint. “I knew it!”

He had an odd expression. “I was wondering about something.”

Ah, no. How would he fight now that she had this advantage? Her shoulders hunched in anticipation of his next salvo. “Yes?”

“Why,” he asked, perplexed, “is the son called Eldrin and the father Eldrinson?”

Roca blinked, feeling like a warrior who expected to confront an armored opponent and instead found herself at a tea party. Her shoulders lowered. “Ah, well, I guess it does sound odd. That’s how his people do it, using ‘son’ every other generation.” She smiled. “We could hardly call him Eldrinsonson.”

His expression turned pensive. “I suppose not.” For the second time today, the unexpected happened: his barriers slipped enough to let his mood reach her. He wondered if he would ever have a child.
Kurjson
. The intensity of his longing startled her. Then his barriers snapped into place, hiding his troubled emotions.

“The other doctors say more about Eldrinson,” he told her, carefully neutral.

Roca folded her arms. “They’ve said enough already.” She had no doubt Kurj would do everything he could to prove Eldri mentally incompetent. It might be the only viable way now to convince the Assembly to dissolve the marriage.

Roca doubted he would openly take her on in the Assembly. The more popular her marriage became, abetted by her orations, the harder it was for him to challenge her without weakening his own standing. But he was working behind the scenes, encouraging those factions that wanted to control Eldri, the schemers and intriguers who would gladly strip her husband of his title. To use Eldri to father Ruby children; they considered this acceptable, a worthy goal. But to allow him the authority of a Ruby consort, with influence above even theirs—this was anathema. They made Kurj’s arguments for him, voicing the inflammatory rhetoric, stirring doubt in the Assembly. Kurj remained silent. Nor did Roca want to accuse her own son in public, especially with no proof except her unspoken sense of him. So they fought this shadow war, both struggling to preserve what they considered right.

“I didn’t know the medical team that went to Lyshriol had returned.” She had managed to select one of the three experts on the team, but she had doubts about at least one of the others, maybe both. They had too many ties to Kurj. She knew they intended to observe Eldri for a longer period of time before reporting, but the wait frustrated her.

“They haven’t made a report,” Kurj said. “I meant the medics here, the ones studying his DNA.”

She spoke warily. “What do they say?”

“It’s interesting, actually.” Kurj’s posture relaxed a bit. “His ancestors had their hands and feet engineered for that hinged, four-digit structure.”

“But why?”

He smiled wryly. “Good question. The medics have no idea.”

The shifting of her chair eased as her posture relaxed. “Do they know any more about his seizures?”

“Some.” Kurj rolled his computer sheet into a rod and slid it into a sheath in his sleeve. “He inherited an unusually low threshold for seizures from his parents. Apparently that isn’t unusual for psions. It probably wouldn’t have caused him problems if his brain hadn’t been injured when his family died.”

The thought of how Eldri had lost his family made Roca tense again. “Avaril Valdoria has much to answer for.”

His expression darkened. “If you would only protect yourself with the same ferocity you protect your family.”

Roca knew he wasn’t talking about Avaril. “I was much younger with Darr. Less mature. Less confident.”

“I meant now.”

Softly she said, “Did you?”

He watched her through the gold shields of his inner lids. What he saw, she had no idea. She wished he would rage, condemn her for those years with Darr,
respond
in some way. Instead he remained in his mental fortress, behind impenetrable walls.