Alien Chronicles 2 - The Crimson Claw (17 page)

He sighed. Israi could not have chosen a worse time to cause trouble. So young, yet growing up . . . more beautiful, more impatient, and more demanding with every passing day. Oh, he was proud of her, greatly proud. He had trained her well, prepared her well to rule. One day—many years from now—she would take the throne for her own, and her radiance would shine glory across the empire.

But it was not yet her time. He would not give her everything she asked for. He would not let her exceed her place.

A chime sounded at the door, interrupting his thoughts. The council was here, and he had come to no decisions. Pulling his robe more tightly around him against the cool spring air, he closed his eyes a moment to summon all his inner forces.

“Come,” he said.

The doors at the end of the throne room swung open, and the chancellors entered in single file by order of rank. Carrying their staffs of office, their chains gleaming across their chests, they marched in silently and rowed themselves before the semicircle of chairs arranged facing his.

Temondahl walked to the feet of the Kaa and bowed low. The other chancellors also bowed.

“Welcome,” the Kaa said formally. “Let the proceedings begin.”

Temondahl straightened and tapped his staff of office once on the polished stone floor.

The others seated themselves. Temondahl glanced around, saw the open window, and gestured for a lackey to close it. As soon as the servant disappeared, he took his seat in the center of the group and faced the Kaa with a grave expression.

Temondahl’s lineage descended from the Fifth House, with its distinguished reputation for public service. Temondahl, with his pale blue skin and lack of variegated shadings, even around his blue eyes, seemed at first glance to be a dull bureaucrat. But slowly, in the time since he had taken office, he had made his intelligent mind and calm, rational approach to difficult decisions useful to the Kaa. He was not Gaveid, with the old chancellor’s brilliance or insight, but he was a solid adviser, and the Kaa respected him.

Now, the Kaa lifted his hand wearily, allowing Temondahl to proceed.

The chancellor of state opened a small data case. “Our agenda this morning is quite long. This is usual following the close of Festival. Also, we should discuss preparations for the Imperial Father’s annual visit to Malraaket, which is coming up during the summer. There are the mining agreements with various colony worlds to review, and a number of petitions from the usual sources, including a new funding request from Ehssk, director of the Vess Vaas Research Laboratory.”

The Kaa sighed and rested his head against the back of his tall throne. “Give Vess Vaas what it has requested.”

Temondahl sputtered. “But surely we should first review the itemized—”

“No,” the Kaa said, sweeping these details aside impatiently. “Ehssk’s work is vital to the future of our race. If he can find a cure for the Dancing Death, then he is a hero. Settle this and continue with the next item.”

Puffing out his air sacs, Temondahl complied.

Outside, the shuttle carrying the exiled officers took off with a muted roar, and the Kaa’s gaze shifted to the window. He glimpsed a momentary flash of silver metal, burnished as it reflected the early morning sunlight, and felt his heart settle colder inside him.

“Israi,” he said aloud without realizing it, then blinked as Temondahl’s droning report faltered to a halt. The Kaa pulled himself together and met their stares. “Let us deal with the matter of the sri-Kaa now.”

Temondahl exchanged a swift glance with some of the other chancellors and puffed out his air sacs. He lowered his agenda to his knee. “As the Imperial Father requests. First, the chain of evidence and the confessions of the three officers involved.”

The Kaa gestured this material aside. “We have seen the room. We have seen the chemist’s report of the drug taken. We have considered the confessions. Let us not go over old ground.”

His haste and impatience clearly disconcerted them. The oldest member of the group, an amber-skinned southerner named Malvnhad, leaned forward. Malvnhad had flat, merciless eyes like burnished stones. His rill spread above his collar, luxuriant and wide with ruffled edges rimmed in green.

“Her actions smack of treason,” he said bluntly, no apology in his voice. “She has tried to divide members of the Palace Guard, the Imperial Father’s own elite protectors, against him. She has attempted to break the laws of the birthright. She has made efforts to usurp imperial privileges from the very hand of the Kaa. These transgressions must not be ignored.”

A tremor of annoyance passed through the Kaa’s rill. He said nothing, however, letting them talk now that Malvnhad’s words had broken the dam of courteous silence on the subject.

Temondahl leaned forward to address Malvnhad at the end of the line. “Lord Malvnhad is correct,” he said smoothly. “However, the sri-Kaa has not actually divided the guards. She did not break the laws of birthright. She usurped no privileges.”

“Only because she was stopped in time,” Malvnhad muttered.

“But she explained her actions and motivations,” Temondahl continued. “The Kaa has forgiven her misdeeds.”

“The Kaa’s mercy is great,” Malvnhad said harshly. “But perhaps the Kaa’s mercy has been hasty.”

“The sri-Kaa did not commit actual treason,” Temondahl said, keeping an eye on the Kaa as he spoke. “This fact must remain clear.”

“She came very close,” Malvnhad argued.

“But she did not commit it,” Temondahl said. “And we must not confuse the impetuous actions of a youthful Imperial Daughter facing her first—”

“What is forbidden, is forbidden!” Malvnhad said, crashing his fist down upon his knee. “Youth and impetuosity do not excuse the act. Further, let us consider the ramifications of this disobedience. If she rebels against what should be an obedient, meditative, gentle time in the cycle of the female, what else will she do?”

Temondahl hesitated, still watching the Kaa for his reaction. The Kaa said nothing, allowed no flicker of expression to appear. Looking like one of the carved stone edifices of his ancestors, he sat stolidly on his throne and listened in silence.

“May I speak?” piped up another chancellor. Lord Huthaldraril was no taller than a female, willowy and green-skinned, with eyes bright and eager. He was the youngest member of the council, newly elected and self-conscious of his position. Like most of his generation, he was overindulged by his family, overeducated, and underexperienced.

Temondahl narrowed his eyes and nodded permission.

Huthaldraril moved eagerly to the edge of his seat. “I believe what Lord Malvnhad really wishes to say is that were the sri-Kaa a male, her actions would be seen as a direct threat to the throne. Historically, such rebellions indicate that next an attempt to subvert the loyalties of the army will be—”

“Enough,” the Kaa said with a sweeping gesture.

Huthaldraril fell silent, his rill turning bright red. He scooted to the back of his chair and hunched down.

“It is unnecessary for the council to overreact,” the Kaa said. “There is no need for hysteria. The sri-Kaa has made her apology. She has received correction. She is forgiven.”

“And when the next incident happens?” Malvnhad asked.

The Kaa’s rill extended in ire. He flicked out his tongue. “There will be none.”

“Can the Imperial Father be sure?”

Now Temondahl’s rill rose behind his head. He answered for the Kaa, “Lord Malvnhad, your concerns are noteworthy, but do not take them too far. The Imperial Daughter’s actions may have been unfortunate, but she is not a subject for criticism.”

“Until she ascends to the throne, she is subject to the laws,” Malvnhad said, refusing to back down. “It is time she learned this.”

“What would you do?” Temondahl retorted. “Punish her?”

“There will be no punishment,” the Kaa said sharply, and both chancellors fell silent.

“She is most high-spirited,” ventured Lord Curmn timidly. “This appears to be perhaps a more adult version of the pranks she used to play as a ta-chune.”

A general consensus was murmured among them.

Pleased by this interpretation, the Kaa flicked out his tongue and sat less stiffly. “Agreed,” he said. “Israi is young and healthy. Naturally she is active and favored with much energy. It is time we assigned her more imperial duties, both to acknowledge that she is now an adult and to occupy her abilities in a positive way.”

Again they nodded and murmured approval, with the exception of Malvnhad, who sat and glared in silence.

Temondahl lowered his rill as much as his collar would allow. “An assignment of duties is an excellent suggestion made by the Imperial Father. I can have a roster of possibilities drawn up by the next—”

“Yes,” the Kaa said, interrupting. “That is acceptable. But we will go further and send her to Malraaket this year to represent our glory.”

A babble of voices broke out, mostly in consternation. More than one chancellor rose involuntarily to his feet, and it required much banging of Temondahl’s staff on the floor to restore order.

“My lords, please,” he said in disapproval, glaring at them until they were quiet and seated once again. “Such breaks in decorum simply will not do.”

“But the Imperial Father always goes to Malraaket,” said Curmn. He pulled out a handkerchief from his sleeve pocket and fanned himself. “The tradition is one of long standing. What would such a change convey to the officials and citizens of that city? What would it say to them?”

“It would say to them that we wish them to meet the sri-Kaa at last,” Malvnhad replied impatiently. “More to the purpose, what would it say to the sri-Kaa herself?”

The chancellors blinked.

Malvnhad leaned forward. “It would say that she is to be rewarded for her actions. That she can do exactly as she pleases without consequences.”

“Why shouldn’t she have such a splendid duty?” Temondahl asked loyally, glancing at the Kaa as he spoke. “What is there against this plan of our Imperial Father’s?”

“Nothing, if her highness could be trusted,” Malvnhad replied, with more boldness than ever.

The Kaa smacked his palm hard against the arm of his throne, and Malvnhad faltered momentarily.

His stony eyes met those of the Kaa’s, and the old chancellor bowed his head. “If my speech is too strong, then I beg the Imperial Father’s pardon.”

“You accuse her of treason,” Huthaldraril said, his voice high-pitched with alarm. “Such a charge is serious indeed. According to the historical precedent, we must—”

“Nonsense,” Malvnhad broke in with a glare his way. He puffed out his air sacs and returned his gaze to the Kaa’s. “Can she be trusted to behave according to imperial protocol? Can she be trusted to remember the official speeches she will be asked to make? Will she carry out the onerous duties assigned to her? The trip involves a lengthy visit, a strenuous round of meetings and functions, and diplomatic finesse. As the Imperial Father knows well.”

The Kaa curled his tongue inside his mouth. Yes, he knew very well. He hated the annual visit to hot Malraaket, major spaceport of the Viis home world. The people were provincial, their conversations tiresome and unsophisticated. This year he’d been dreading the prospect of visiting their manufacturing plants and distribution centers more than usual. The very idea of it exhausted him.

That was why he felt sending Israi was the perfect answer. The anticipation of the trip would keep her occupied and out of trouble until summer. While there, she would bask in the adulation they would pour over her. She would enjoy every moment of their attention. When she returned, she would be happy and satisfied for a while, still basking in the afterglow of a successful adventure. He should have thought of this solution sooner. Israi, with her boundless energy, constant demands, and craving for excitement, needed to be kept busy.

“It is decided,” he said, breaking into the continued discussion of the council. “She will go as our representative. It is time the people met her. Let this be recorded. Let this be done.”

The meeting went on to other matters, lasting far beyond his patience. But when at last the chancellors filed out and the Kaa rose to return to his chambers for his first official dressing ceremony of the day, Temondahl approached him with a bow.

“If I may have a word in private, Imperial Father?”

The Kaa paused with a graciousness he was far from feeling. His head buzzed with exhaustion. He wanted only to crawl into bed, but he knew if he did, the palace would erupt with gossip and rumors, and his physicians would be sent for to determine what was wrong. The Kaa wanted no one fussing over him. It would only make things worse.

“Yes, Temondahl?” he asked, keeping his voice courteous. How he missed Gaveid, with his sly wit, his shrewdness, his perfect understanding of minds and motivations. But Gaveid had gone into his otal life cycle, too old for service, his health failing him at last. He had died during the winter, and the Kaa mourned him still. Temondahl was a capable, hardworking individual, but utterly boring company.

He approached the Kaa now, bowing respectfully with a formality he never surrendered, even in private.

“I hope Lord Malvnhad’s blunt remarks were not too offensive to the Imperial Father?”

Impatience consumed the Kaa. Was that all he wanted, to apologize for another chancellor’s behavior? What a crashing bore Temondahl was.

The Kaa raked his chief adviser with a glare. “They were not.”

Temondahl blinked as though he had not expected that answer. “Very well. I hope that—”

“The matter is closed to further discussion,” the Kaa said in warning.

Temondahl flinched and bowed low. “Ah, yes. I understand. Sire, there are two private reports that I wish to share. They are just in, and very serious.”

The Kaa’s depression darkened. Private reports deemed unsuitable for the ears of the council meant extremely bad news. For a moment he was tempted to flee, to refuse to cope with any of it, but that he could not do.

“Speak,” he said and braced himself.

“Our colony world in the Tescearu system has fallen to rebels. The government is overthrown. I lack complete confirmation, but there is a chance the governor has been killed.”