The Final Key: Part Two of Triad (31 page)

Majda's answer came with tension.
The Traders are using Kyle space to infiltrate our defenses. It connects to your family, but we don't know how. We cut our Kyle links with the non-military members of the Ruby Dynasty, but we didn't have a chance to warn your mother. She disappeared before we could tell her escort not to use the Kyle web. Majda paused. We didn't know, when we cut Pharaoh Dyhianna out of the web, that we would need a Key.

Soz didn't see what difference it would have made. Either way, Dehya would have disappeared when her shuttle tried to invert. Soz wanted to search for her mother and her aunt, but messages were pouring into her mind from all over Skolia. Data about the invasion flooded the War Room, coordinated by Imperator Majda through Soz and the Chair, and

telops rerouted it to millions of ships, from the giant Firestorms roaring through space to tugs lumbering among asteroids.

The ESComm fleet was currendy hidden in inversion. Unlike their ISC counterparts, however, they had limited communications during superluminal travel; the longer they spent inverted, the more their ships were spread out in time and position when they dropped into normal space. To remain a coherent force, they periodically had to reenter normal space and regroup, taking hours to gather their fleet. It was their greatest vulnerability.

ISC saturated space with probes around the predicted course of the ESComm fleet. Most returned nothing useful, but a few were in the right place each time the invaders dropped out of inversion. Although ISC could have attacked, Majda held back. The Traders didn't know Skolia had regained the web, and ISC would have the element of surprise only once. They had neither the personnel nor the resources to match ESComm, but they could move faster and with more precision.

It might be enough to prevail.

Maybe.

Eldrin slumped against the bulkhead, his legs stretched across the deck. The freighter managed a low apparent gravity with its rotation, but it was uneven enough to create noticeable Coriolis forces. He doubted that was what nauseated him, though. He just plain felt like hell. But he was alive.

Although the craving remained within him and his head ached, he could bear it. His hallucinations had faded to visual distortions and an unsettled sense that colors were too bright, edges too sharp.

Refugees crammed the cargo hold. He had expected he would disgust these people, who had witnessed his bone-crushing weakness. As an empath, he would feel condemnation, especially with his mind so sensitized by the withdrawal. And a few did condemn him. But most felt

sympathy. Many spared him an encouraging word or nod. His years in the elegantly cutthroat universe of the Imperial Court had jaded him; this reaffirmation of human kindness was a gift.

A slender man was making his way through the refugees, his gait awkward in the minimal gravity. Gripping a projection on a bulkhead, he stepped past a group of young people playing a game with sticks that floated lazily off the deck and settled again. He edged around a sleeping man strapped into a hammock and past an elderly couple chewing on the ship's dull rations. The man looked familiar to Eldrin, but it took him several moments to figure out why. It was Kaywood, the doctor who had stayed at his side during his ordeal—the man who had saved his sanity and his life.

Eldrin became aware of two children, a small girl dozing against the bulkhead and a boy who sat on her other side, also asleep, his cheek resting on her head. They had curly dark hair and similar features, probably brother and sister. He remembered; they had shared his hammock.

As Kaywood reached them, the girl opened her eyes, then closed them again. The doctor knelt next to Eldrin and spoke in Skolian Flag. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Eldrin's ruined voice grated. Gods only knew if he would ever sing again. It hurt too much to contemplate, that the phorine may have taken away the only other thing he loved besides his family.

Kaywood offered him a water tube and a stick of food. It was all Eldrin could do to accept the tube calmly rather than yanking it away. He fumbled with it, but he didn't have the patience to open it properly, so he tore off the top. He drank deeply, and water ran down his parched throat.

Kaywood had an odd expression, as if he wanted to rejoice, but wasn't certain yet if he should. He gave Eldrin the food stick.

"My thanks," Eldrin whispered.

"You seem better today," Kaywood said.

"You've a gift for understatement."

"It was rough for a while."

Sofdy, Eldrin said, "I am in your debt."

Kaywood sat cross-legged on the deck. "I felt like I wasn't helping at all."

"You were." Eldrin would never forget his words of comfort. They had been a lifeline for him. "More than you know."

"Well." Kaywood nodded self-consciously. "Good."

They sat for a while, chewing rations. Eldrin wasn't certain he could keep the food down, but he was too hungry to hold back.

Eventually Kaywood said, "I was wondering if I might ask you a question."

"What did you want to know?" Eldrin asked, wary.

"Sometimes your accent sounds Iotic. Other times I can't place it."

Eldrin hesitated. If Kaywood recognized an accent as rare as Iotic, he probably knew only royalty and the nobility ,spoke it as a first language. It didn't surprise him, given that the doctor worked on the outskirts of the Skolian capital.

"I learned Iotic in school," Eldrin said, which was true. His parents had also taught him, but he didn't want anyone to guess his identity, not only because it could endanger his life, but also because they would probably give him special consideration that he didn't deserve. Other people needed it more, and he had put these people through enough.

"What is your native language?" Kaywood asked. He seemed only curious; Eldrin had no sense mat the doctor suspected who he had been treating.

"It's called Trillian," Eldrin said. "That is the accent you hear." Although the language had probably descended from ancient Iotic, it had changed over the millennia until it became a separate tongue. He had learned Trillian and Iotic together, but he used Trillian more and considered it his first language. "My parents wanted us to have a good education."

"They are wise."

"Yes." Eldrin's voice had lost its chime, and he feared it would never heal. So much destroyed in one day. He thought of his bodyguards, the Abaj in the limo, and prayed they had survived.

Kaywood spoke carefully. "I also wondered about the phorine."

Eldrin knew what the doctor wanted to know. He brushed back his hair, which had tangled over his collar. "I thought it would solve a neurological problem. I didn't know it was addictive."

Kaywood's gaze turned to steel. "I assume you will never again take it without supervision." Eldrin shuddered. "Not even with." "Good."

The girl stirred in her sleep. Relieved to avoid the doctor's stern gaze, Eldrin watched the children. The boy reminded him of Taquinil. Fear wrenched Eldrin. Were his wife and son safe? The Orbiter was always on the move, which could protect Taquinil and the Bard. Eldrin's hallucinations had included the agony of torture by the Traders, but he had no way to know if the withdrawal had caused it or something else. When he thought of his family, especially his parents, his worry spiked. But he didn't know why. Nor did he have any idea where Dehya had gone. He tried to sense her mind, but it felt diffuse, even... gone.

No. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't

He should have been with Dehya in the Assembly, or with Taquinil on the Orbiter. Node-bliss. Better to call it node-misery. He had let it take him away from his family and his singing. His bodyguards had protected him even as he risked them all, insisting they delay while he searched for his damnable "medicine." If not for him, they might have reached the hospital in time to prevent whatever injured them. If not for his soul-killing need, he wouldn't have drained his life until he had nothing left but the empty Ruby Palace. If he had another chance, he would honor it. He would be a worthy Ruby Heir, a better husband, a better father.

A bell clanged, jarring Eldrin out of his haze. The captain's voice came over comm, as brusque as always. "Prepare to invert"

Eldrin glanced at Kaywood and saw his apprehension re- -fleeted in the doctor's face. They could come out into empty space—or among ESComm battleships.

"Have you heard anything about the situation?" Eldrin asked. People around them were murmuring similar questions to one another.

Kaywood shook his head, his face pale. "This ship appar-endy had only limited Kyle access to start with, and it lost those few links during the attack. People are saying the web collapsed."

"It didn't." Eldrin wasn't sure how he knew, but he was certain. For some reason Soz came to mind. Then he thought of his mother and his unease returned, magnified.

"I thought we were going to invert," a woman muttered.

"It was a warning," a man said dryly.

"Don't complain," another man said. "He's a good captain."

Eldrin agreed. The captain could have taken off to ensure his own safety, but instead he had stayed during the attack and given up his cargo so he could jam hundreds of people into his freighter. Eldrin intended to make sure he received recompense for his lost goods. He hadn't seen the captain, but then, he had seen little else but hallucinations for the past few days.

Another alarm sounded, the ten-second warning. They had no chairs or pads, nothing to ease the drop out of inversion. Eldrin just stayed against the bulkhead, his arm around the children. When the ship inverted, his nausea surged. Grotesque monsters with red eyes and shimmering black hair capered at the edges of his vision, hawks with the heads of Aristos. They were a dim nightmare, though, weak reminders of the terrors that had haunted him.

His sense of the universe abrupdy righted itself, and the hallucinations faded. Grateful, he leaned his head against the bulkhead and closed his eyes.

The captain's voice came over comm. "Drop complete." Relief crept into his brisk tone. "Looks like we're clear, folks. We're coming up on Baylow Station, an outpost in Ivory Sector designated to accept evacuees."

Kaywood exhaled. "Thank the saints."

Eldrin opened his eyes and smiled wanly. "Also the Els that ran the evacuation and this ship."

The doctor laughed, his voice uneven. "I guess sainthood is beyond their capabilities."

Eldrin had grown up immersed in Lyshriol culture, with its saints of the suns, moons, lands, reeds, bubbles, and more.

He knew, logically, that it was mythology, intricate and lovely, but only stories. His emotions believed, though. Right now he would thank them all for bringing him through to this place—and eventually back to his home, he hoped. If he still had a home.

Shannon walked the Blue.

He no longer saw the Eloria in the mists. He had gone too far for them to follow. Their mental support, as nebulous as it had become, remained, allowing him to walk the strange edges of Kyle space. He searched for his mother. His father had tasked him to this deed and he would succeed no matter what it took. His fear for her drove him onward, searching, searching, searching.

mother, can you hear?

Gripping the web, Soz searched.
Mother, can yon hear?

The Bard called with the power of the Triad.
Roca, where are you?

Slowly she opened her eyes. She was lying on her back under a silver sheet. Her arms were pulled above her head and bound at the wrists. Her ankles were strapped down. A thought formed.
Councilor?

Odd.
She heard the word in her mind, it wasn't her own.

This is Arabesque,
it thought.
Your node.

Node. Spode. Code ...

Councilor, I need your help.

Who is Councilor?
she asked.

You.

Me...?

Your name is Roca Valdoria Skolia. You are heir to the Ruby Throne and Councilor of Foreign Affairs in the Assembly.
The meaning of the tides eluded her.
What do you want?

I have been dormant. Someone nudged me.
What?

People are searching for you. They cannot find you if your brain is off.
You are my brain.
No. I turned you off.

That made no sense. She pulled at her bonds, but her limbs were tightiy fastened.
Free me. It hurts.
I can't.

Fear sifted through her mind.
They want to hurt me.
Yes. I am sorry.
Have they ...

They stopped when you went into the coma. They are waiting for you to awake.

She stiffened, and pain shot through her wrists.
I am awake.

Yes. Nor can I suppress your physiological responses much longer I have infiltrated the meshes on this ship, but if I manipulate the systems, they may catch what I am doing. If I don't hide your vital signs, however, they will soon realize you are awake.

What is wrong with me?
Bile rose in her throat.
Why cant I think?

You have a great deal of brain damage.

Her anger sparked.
You did this to me.

Yes. You commanded it.

Why would 1 give, such a command?

To stop the torture. They cannot transcend if you are in a coma.

She remembered pain.
We must escape.

Someone is searching. If we could just—
Suddenly it thought,
The El for this medical bay just notified Commander Raziquon that you have come out of your coma.

A chill went through her.
Who is Commander Raziquon?

The Aristo who abducted you. She and her brother.

What should I do?

Make contact with the people searching for you.

How?

I don't know.