Jags, lightning, Iquar: it made no sense. But I didn't dismiss it. I had long ago realized such images could come from models in my mind that evolved below conscious thought. This image was too far in the future to offer anything definitive, but it must refer to powerful events if it registered even now. Maybe in fifty years we would finally find accommodation with the Traders. Or perhaps we would face our destruction.
Chad was watching me. "Pharaoh Dyhianna, I have no doubt that you will build a greater Skolia."
"I value your loyalty. It means a great deal to me." It was the reason I had promoted him.
Chad moved slightly, straightening his spine. I felt his satisfaction. Unlike Ragnar Bloodmark, who had ulterior motives everywhere, Chad genuinely believed we had made the right choice. His confidence came like a balm on blistered skin.
I needed that, to help prepare myself for the next person I had to face.
* * *
Jon Casestar's suite hadn't changed, but a great deal had happened since the last time I had been here. We sat at the same table as before. Instead of Eldrin, this time I came with bodyguards, Jagernauts loyal to the Ruby Dynasty. Jon no longer wore his uniform; today he had on gray trousers and a gray tunic. His face was drawn, his manner wary.
He spoke the requisite ceremonial words in a neutral voice, with no emotion. "My honor at your presence, Pharaoh Dyhianna."
I almost winced. He sounded as honored as a soldier facing execution. And indeed, during the Ruby Empire, that would have been his sentence for acting against the Pharaoh. I didn't want him to die. He had been a loyal and valued advisor to the last two Imperators, Kurj and Soz. I had no doubt he could have done the same for Kelric. But I couldn't let him go now, not after he had defied the authority of the Ruby Throne.
"Ah, Jon." I pushed my hand through my hair. "What will we do?"
I felt him tense. Although he wasn't any more ready to trust me than I him, he understood the implicit message in my question— I wanted to negotiate.
He spoke carefully. "We have options."
"Perhaps we should explore them."
"I would agree, yes."
Good. If he recanted his opposition to my reign, I wouldn't have to do anything drastic. "Perhaps you might make a public statement. A pledge of support to our future. To Skolia." I paused. "To the Ruby Dynasty." Then I waited, willing him to say yes.
Resignation leaked past his mental barriers, and the fear that he was about to sign his death warrant. "I cannot lie, Your Highness."
I should have known he wouldn't go that far. As much as I admired his integrity, it wouldn't help him in his grave. "Surely a middle ground exists." I tried to think of what he might say that would mollify those who wanted his death. "Most people will understand your misgivings about our move against Earth. You feared to start a war. But perhaps you are gratified by its success and encouraged by the peaceful resolution at Lyshriol."
"Yes, I could say that." His unspoken question seemed to hang in the air:
What is the catch?
I didn't hedge. "You must never speak against the Ruby Dynasty."
He didn't answer immediately. Again I willed him not to refuse. Although he would probably never regain his authority as a top-ranked ISC admiral, he had many other options for a career. Most of all, I wouldn't have to order his blasted execution.
Although he remained silent, his mood came to me. He had grave concerns about the rule of the Ruby Dynasty. The concentration of so much power with so few people troubled him. But given the choice between death and a measured support of the new government, he remained silent about his doubts. I had offered him an out: if he stopped opposing us, I wouldn't ask that he recant his objections. He didn't have to lie, he only had to keep quiet.
I spoke softly. "Silence requires less compromise that denial."
Regret touched his voice. "One learns to live with compromises." He took a tired breath. "I will make the speech, as you say."
The hard knot in my stomach loosened. "I am glad, Jon. Truly glad."
Yet still a part of me knew only regret. Even with his pardon, the Ruby Dynasty had lost one of its strongest military leaders.
* * *
Sprawled in his command chair, Ragnar Bloodmark waved at the holoscreens that curved around the bridge of his cruiser,
Pharaoh's Shield.
A panorama of stars surrounded us. Bridge consoles studded the surface of the hemisphere like ledges floating in the vast expanse of stars.
He spoke with fierce exultation. "This is all yours— your triumph."
I tried to feel his euphoria. "Apparently so."
He turned his dark gaze on me. "It is worth whatever price it exacts."
"Why?"
He made an incredulous noise. "What kind of question is that for the winner to ask?"
"And you think that is what matters: the winning."
"You didn't start this hoping to lose." His smile had a hard, vicious edge. "Dehya, you think too much. Enjoy your triumph."
I wondered what he truly supported: me, or the power his loyalty would bring him. What did it matter? He had chosen the Ruby Dynasty. "You led the Fleet well."
"That is what you need. People who serve you well." The edge deepened in his voice. "People who understand the intricacies of power."
Meaning you. Not Eldrin.
He wouldn't say it today or tomorrow, but it would come. Ragnar wanted more. He wanted the Ruby Throne. I couldn't deny the truth.
I could never trust him.
* * *
The holo-panel in Naaj's living room showed the Majda home planet, Raylicon, the world that had birthed our ancestors after we lost the green hills and blue seas of Earth. In the holo, violent winds hurled the sands of a red desert against gaunt red cliffs, like an ocean of sand breaking against a primordial shoreline. High on the cliffs, modern towers rose in mirrored needles, their metallic surfaces sharp against a pale blue sky. Naaj stood in front of the panel, her imposing figure dark against the fiery background.
"You must speak to the Skolian people as soon as possible," she said. "They must hear from their Pharaoh." Her eyes glinted.
The chill air made me wish I had worn clothes with a heating system. Or maybe facing Naaj was what made me cold. "The Office of Public Affairs is arranging for Kelric and me to appear in a broadcast."
"Astonishing that he survived all these years," she said, her tone guarded.
"He hasn't talked much about it."
"It disquiets me. Nineteen years is a long time."
It disquieted me too, though I suspected for different reasons. No one found it surprising that he declined to talk about his experiences as a slave. But he wasn't just restrained, he was utterly silent on the matter. Often he refused to talk at all.
"He is always building structures with those jewels," I said. "I think it's more than a game."
Naaj shrugged. "He puts them away whenever I come near."
I walked around the room, studying its holo-panels, haunting views of Raylicon, including the Majda palace, an exotic cascade of domes and towers aglow in a rosy dawn. It belonged to Kelric now. "He speaks with fondness of the wedding present your sister gave him. He will be glad to see the palace again." I had no doubt she knew exactly what I meant; we expected her House to honor Kelric's claim to his Majda assets.
Naaj spoke with a formal tone, as one matriarch to another discussing the men under their responsibility. "Majda will see to his well-being."
Although I doubted Kelric would appreciate that Majda felt obligated to look after his well-being, her answer made sense. Naaj coveted the title of Imperator the way a powerful matriarch in the Ruby Empire would have sought to expand her influence. She engaged her adversaries in an honorable manner. The Ruby queens had constantly fought such battles. The winner kept all, including the loser's men.
Had Kelric been female, Naaj would have challenged him for the Majda assets. But even now, when he had become Imperator, I wasn't sure she could see him as fully independent. In her view, he belonged to the winner, the House of Skolia, to which she had pledged her oath. She would always be entrenched in the Majda conservatism, but if it meant she wouldn't seek his assassination, that was all that mattered.
"It pleases me that you venerate your sister's widower," I said.
"As we venerate your House." She raised her head. "I have always known the Houses would rise again. The Ruby Dynasty is where it belongs."
"You honor us with your fealty." Not that she had had much choice.
"As it should be."
"Why?"
"Why honor you with fealty?" She snorted, letting go of her formality. "Dehya, what kind of absurd question is that?"
I held back my smile. "You should indeed honor us," I agreed. "But why should we rule?"
"I can't believe you have to ask."
"Humor me."
"The Houses are better fit to do it than the common people." She spoke as if that were obvious and universally accepted, rather than one of the most controversial debates of our time.
"Not everyone feels that way," I said.
"Not everyone deserves a voice."
Well, Majda certainly hadn't lost her arrogance. I had the approval of the people now, but if Naaj started talking this way in public, I would lose support fast. My ascendance was already going to create trouble in exactly those circles she was most likely to offend. I frowned at her. "That many nobles among the Houses feel as you do is one reason the rule of the Ruby Dynasty will be controversial in certain groups."
"Then those groups need 'reeducation.' "
"Lése majesté,"
I said. "That's what you want."
She tilted her head. "What language is that?"
"French. From Earth. It means a crime against the sovereign of a realm. The punishment could be severe."
"As it should be." Surprise trickled past her mental barriers. "I wouldn't have expected the Allieds to be so sensible."
Sensible
depended on your point of view. "They no longer support that attitude. They long ago chose to govern through elected representatives."
She waved her hand in dismissal. "Which is why they are weak."
I didn't believe she actually had that narrow a view. She hadn't risen so high in the treacherous seas of political intrigue by ignoring reality. "Or it could be that we simply happened to be here first and had longer to build our power base."
She refused to relent. "It doesn't matter, Dehya. The Allieds aren't strong enough to deal with the situation. You must be firm now, both with the Allieds and with your 'certain groups.' "
Firm, yes. But with whom remained to be seen.
* * *
I expected the clink of gems to stop when the bodyguards ushered me into Kelric's study. He looked up as I entered, his hand poised over a tower of playing pieces. A ruby ball sparkled in his hand. Setting it down, he rose to his feet.
"My greetings, Dehya." He motioned at a chair. "Please join me."
"My greetings." I sat with him at the table.
Instead of putting his jewels back into his pouch, this time he left them out: diamond polyhedrons, sapphire disks, emerald rods, opal rings, gold cubes, and more. I had come to discuss our impending public appearance, but I couldn't pass up this opportunity. He had steadfastly refused to let anyone watch his games.
I studied the structure. "These are beautiful gems."
"Dice."
I looked up at him. "They're dice?"
He watched me intently from across the table. "Yes."
"You're gambling then?"
"No." His gaze never wavered. "You must learn to play."
"Why me?" I asked, intrigued.
"Who more appropriate?" He indicated the lustrous tower. It had an amethyst cube as its base. A seven-sided sapphire polyhedron sat on top of the cube. An emerald octahedron balanced on the sapphire, held in place by a small emerald ring. The tower continued with a nine-sided green-yellow gem, a ten-sided yellow gem, an eleven-sided topaz, and a twelve-sided bronze die. He had found ingenious ways to balance them, using rings and small cups. The room lights glittered off the gems.
"It is called a queen's spectrum." He considered the tower. "Actually, this would be a queen's gamble."
"What is the difference?" I asked.
"A gamble is any structure built with great risk but substantial potential payoff." He balanced the ruby ball on the top, within a diamond ring.
"Shouldn't you have put a ruby with thirteen sides there?"
