The V'Dan (29 page)

“He also stressed he would not recommend using these water-bombs of theirs anywhere other than in the depths of space, so as not to damage our living spaces.”

“And you believe him?” the Empress asked her son.

“I have reason to believe that I have not been given lies. They have withheld information, as is their right, but they have not lied,” Li’eth stated. “Certainly, I am better at reading auras now than I ever was, and his aura held no deception.”

She eyed him up and down before moving away. “I wonder if you are somehow now contaminated by the beliefs of these people, that you advocate for them.”

“I advocate for
our
people,” Li’eth asserted, following her.

“Does your holy partner know that?” Hana’ka asked dryly.

“She does, and she approves of it. Just as she advocates for her people. She is
also
wise enough not to press when I tell her I cannot give her certain information. Just as I am courteous in kind about not prying further when told I cannot be told.” For a moment, when she settled onto her chair again, he thought she would have him kneel. But his mother flicked her hand to the side, offering him one of the other, slightly less ornate, seats. “It is called diplomacy, Empress. I learned it well.”

“Yes, your Nanny did a good job of raising you, didn’t he?” she agreed. Bracing her chin on her fingertips, she tapped her jawline. “Why
would
they give the position of Grand High Ambassador to someone who is bound in a holy pairing? Particularly when they say it will only bind the two of you tighter together?”

“Maybe they really
do
want an alliance with us, and see this as a means to ensnare our cooperation,” he offered.

“But if you two are a holy pairing, which they agree is like a holy marriage, you could sway
her
into coaxing her people into giving us far more concessions than we could give them,” Hana’ka pointed out.

Li’eth smiled at that. Smiled, and shook his head. “No, she wouldn’t. She has more iron in her than all the metal at the core of our world. She is honorable beyond all contestation, Eternity. Honorable, and honest. She put her career on the line, presenting that very possibility before her people’s highest levels of government. They have faith she will represent them better than anyone else. It also may help that she has the former leader of their nation as her Assistant Ambassador.”

“The what of the what?” Hana’ka asked her son, giving him her full, if confused, attention.

“You didn’t read the report I sent on that?” Li’eth asked.

“I have a
lot
of reports to read. Mostly, I read the summaries,” his mother confessed. Her fingertips tapped on the curled, carved armrest of her chair. “I barely have time to read those, either. Every time a new ship comes into the home space, blaring the latest in bad news, I have a thousand fires to extinguish and a thousand wounds to bandage on the morale of the Empire.”

“Assistant Ambassador Rosa McCrary was, up until the start of their current year, the Premiere of the Terran United Planets Council. She was your equal for I think five years,” Li’eth told her.

“For five years? Did someone depose her? Why isn’t she in exile, or under lock and key?” Hana’ka asked.

“They
elected
her to serve a five-year term,” he explained. “Their whole government is a . . . a cross between people rising to power based on education level—they all have to pass strenuous tests in understanding science and such—and their willingness to serve as a part of the bureaucracy—but with stiff penalties for bribery and corruption—and having the freely voted confidence of the people backing them. It’s all very confusing, but at the same time sort of like what the Valley of the Artisans has for its government.”

Hana’ka wrinkled her nose. “
Bah.
Giving people a say in their government doesn’t always work out for the best. Particularly when they are not trained from birth for it.”

“She does come from a bloodline with government officials in it. Her mother is the assistant governor for the region that she herself served as Councilor—their governors execute the laws, seeing that they are carried out, while their Councilors listen to the people and make or change the laws,” Li’eth explained. “And her grandfather was a Councilor of a different region before he perished with many others in an attack by insurgents of some sort.”

“So not everyone in their Empire thinks their government is perfect,” the Empress mused, smirking a little.

“Neither are
we
,” Li’eth reminded her. “The Imperial bloodline has remained in the hands of the descendants of War King Kah’el for five thousand years, yes, but sometimes it has been jostled to the right or the left by a few ranks of relationship.”

His mother sighed, deflating a little. “So long as ours is not the
last
generation . . . I really do not want to see the Salik fighting on V’Dan itself, Kah’raman. So far, we have kept them away, but we cannot replace our great ships at the rate the Salik can destroy them. The only troop-transport-sized ships I have at this moment to send to this
Earth
place to pick up extraneous troops are the ships of the home fleet.”

“So let the Terrans help. Ask them to prove themselves in the next attack,” Li’eth suggested, leaning on the armrest closest to his mother.

“They brought a diplomatic embassy to V’Dan, not a war fleet,” she countered.

“They brought
soldiers
ready to fly and fight. Their Admiral-General Kurtz assured me their ships are prepared to defend V’Dan. All except for two of them,” he amended. At his mother’s curious glance, he explained. “If our system is attacked, the
Embassy 2
will take off with Assistant Ambassador McCrary on board and retreat to a known but unoccupied system until they receive word that everything is safe, or are given the signal to retreat to Earth. Or are not contacted after a certain number of days. The
Embassy 1
will remain in the presence of the Grand High Ambassador at all times as her personal transport.”

“That . . . is clever of them,” the Empress acknowledged. “It ensures that they will hopefully keep safe at least one person with high authority who has the most accurate information on us, who is also familiar to us, should for some reason their chief ambassador perish.”

“I would rather she
didn’t
perish, as that would condemn me to a slow death,” he muttered.

“Assuming you truly are a holy pairing. I’ve been reading the reports of complaints by the High Priests on that subject,” she muttered back. “They do not like being upstaged.”

“Speaking of which, my Empress . . . I think it would be best if
you
undertook some of their
psychic
mind exercises,” Li’eth offered cautiously. “As well as the Imperial Consort, of course. He will benefit quite a lot, but you will benefit greatly as well, in your own way.”

She frowned at him. “Did they hit you on the head? Either the Salik or the Terrans? I am
not
blessed with holy gifts, Kah’raman. I was not born with them. They have not manifested at puberty, nor at any point in the following five decades.”

“Master Sonam Sherap was the man who taught me,” Li’eth explained. “He is a
professional
teacher of gifted abilities, and he told me that
all
Humans have the ability to learn how to center their spirits, strengthen them by grounding them in a firm foundation once centered, and how to
shield
their minds against casual intrusion.

“Jackie and I
also
caught a certain holy priest among the Sh’nai trying to read
my
thoughts. Without my permission, which is a very serious offense in Terran eyes. She suggested that my entire family should be trained in such mental disciplines, to prevent our minds from being swayed by the Sh’nai priesthood. Particularly you, to ensure you are free from undue influences. Just as I am now free from undue influencing from the Sh’nai.”

“Yes, they told me about that. Or rather, mentioned how you just
had
to be influenced unduly by their Ambassador, with all this supposed nonsense of the two of you being a holy pairing,” his mother pointed out dryly.

Li’eth shook his head. “It is not nonsense, and they would never attempt to influence me mentally. Invading and changing another person’s mind without their permission would be about
as offensive to the Grand High Ambassador as it would be for you to urinate upon the Eternal Throne during full Court.”

“Kah’raman!” Hana’ka exclaimed, scandalized by the suggestion.

“That
is
a nongratuitous, accurate description of how offensive it would be,” he defended himself, braced against her scowl of disapproval. “They are a very honor-conscientious people, Mother.”

“So you
say
.”

“So I
know
.”

She stared at him, studying his face. Breathing deep, Hana’ka let it out on a sigh. “
Fine.
So they’re honorable and conscientious, and this training will supposedly keep everyone out of my head.”

“It will protect you from
casual
intrusion,” Li’eth corrected. “Master Sonam stated that once I attain the same Rank 15 as Jackie’s ability to speak mind-to-mind, her
telepathy
, a trio of three Rank 8
telepaths
could still breach my mental defenses if they deliberately worked together to do so. But they have very firm rules against that sort of behavior.”

“Well, may the Saints bless us with
more
miracles,” she muttered, rolling her eyes and flipping a hand.

A door opened, and she quickly straightened, the serene, somewhat stern mask of the War Queen dropping back into place. Li’eth found himself straightening as well, slipping back into the old habits of formal presentation and demeanor among others. He almost slumped again, seeing who it was, but something about his eldest sister’s coolly composed expression had him warily maintaining proper posture.

“Welcome back, Imperial Prince Kah’raman,” the Imperial Heir stated.

“Thank you, Vi’alla,” he replied. “It’s good to be home.”

Her left eye ticked just the tiniest bit on the underside. Stopping three lengths from their mother, she lowered herself to one knee. Vi’alla was wearing a dark red civilian variation of Li’eth’s uniform, not quite military in style but close enough to echo her mother’s War Queen garments. The color had purplish undertones, making it go well with her fuchsia-crescent marks. She rested her hands on her bent knee and regarded him levelly, if briefly. “I see the military has taught you informal habits.”

She turned her attention to their mother, but the damage was done. The hint of censure in her tone irked him. Li’eth reminded himself that it had been a while since she had served. “The ways of the military have nothing to do with my greeting, Vi’alla. You are my sister. I show my love and affection through the intimacy of informality.”

“Then it is the influence of these Terrans that have soured your etiquette,” she dismissed, giving him another brief look. “No matter. You are safely home, and seem to be healthy and well. That is what matters. Eternity, will His Imperial Highness be staying with us for a while before returning to his duties in the Fleet?”

Hana’ka gestured for her daughter to rise. “No. I am going to appoint him as military liaison to the Terran Grand High Ambassador.”

Slowing a little as she rose, Vi’alla slanted her gray eyes at her brother. The movement wrinkled the crescent on her left temple and brow, giving it the curve of a bull’s horn.
Or a devil’s horn, given what I saw of Terran mythology,
Li’eth thought. Then castigated himself for the uncharitable thought.

A tap on his mind alerted him to Jackie’s mental presence. (
Is something wrong?
)

(
My eldest sister is simply being my eldest sister.
)

(
Ah. Sorry. Good luck, and have a nice supper.
)

(
I’d say the same for you,
) he replied, (
but I know you’re stuck with packet foods until your kitchen facilities can be set up properly.
)

(
Assuming we can find them while we’re unpacking.
) She sent him a mental hug before ending contact. It reminded him of the warm welcome her family had given him and his surviving bridge officers, replete with real hugs and those flower-and-leaf garlands which they had called
na lei
, and the hugs many others had offered throughout the
lu’au
feast, particularly as that afternoon on the beach had worn on into evening. So very different from the formal interactions between his family members.

His mother and sister broke off their very polite, restrained debate over the wisdom of “. . . encouraging this nonsense of a holy pairing,” according to his sister, when their father entered the chamber. Imperial Consort Te-los shared more
looks with his eldest daughter than with his eldest son, though her hair was blond and his brown. On her head—as on Li’eth’s and their mother’s—her
jungen
marks could be seen in the streaks of burgundy and fuchsia that permanently tinted their locks. Te-los had brown curves for his marks, which blended into his chest-length brunette strands, leaving his hair looking rather plain even when looked at closely. Until his hair turned fully white with age or was shaved away, no one could easily see where his scalp had been marked.

Imperial Consort Te-los was also the only member of the family who did not have to drop to one knee before Her Eternity. He did bow formally, however, before crossing to his son. Li’eth rose to meet him, both embracing tightly. They shared more than just some of their looks; both men were holy ones.

(
I am so very glad you are alive, my son,
) his father sent. It was ragged and uneven compared to the smooth telepathy of the Terrans, but that was understandable given the differences in training. (
I have been praying to every Saint that could possibly hear that you
would
be the V’Daania destined to escape death by evil hunger and bring back allies that will win our war. I am both sad and glad that it came true.
)