Spherical Harmonic

by Catherine Asaro

  Jon was speaking to Ragnar. “Have we secured the Orbiter?”

  Ragnar concentrated his attention on the other admiral. It intrigued me to watch them interact, two of the Imperial Fleet’s most influential leaders. Jon’s quiet strength and calm efficiency inspired confidence, whereas Ragnar had a dark, brooding aspect that disquieted people.

  “We’ve moved the Orbiter to a new star system.” Ragnar turned his keen gaze back to me. “But as long as the First Lock remains operational, the Traders can locate the Orbiter using their stolen Lock.”

  I glanced at the aide standing behind him.

  “She’s cleared,” Ragnar said.

  “I can turn off the First Lock if we return to the Orbiter,” I said.

  Jon Casestar didn’t look the least surprised by my statement, but that didn’t make his expression any less stony. “Taking you to the Orbiter right now is too much of a risk.”

  Eldrin was staring at us, incredulous. No one had ever told him we could deactivate the Locks. But now he had a need to know. The Locks required Rhon psions to operate, and Eldrin and I were the only free Rhon psions. For the Orbiter’s safety, we needed to turn off its Lock. But the fact that we could turn them off could also be exploited as a weakness in our defenses and in the Triad. Had Eldrin known before, he might have revealed it to the Traders during interrogation.

  A model evolving in the back of my mind suddenly converged. “Of course!” I said. “He turned it off.”

  Jon blinked at me. Less than a second had passed since his comment about the risk of taking me to the Qrbiter.

  I clarified my abrupt statement. “Kelric turned off the stolen Lock.”

  Now they were all giving me odd looks, except Eldrin. “You still think Kelric is alive?” Eldrin asked. He tried to hold in his hope, but it lightened his voice. Even after all these years, I knew he still greatly missed his youngest brother; although Kelric had grown into a huge warrior, towering over his older brother, Eldrin would always remember him as the affectionate little brother who had held so much love for his family.

  Ragnar raised his eyebrow at me. “Do you mean Tertiary Kelricson Valdoria? The Ruby Prince?”

  “That’s right,” I said. “Kelric joined the Triad.”

  Jon spoke. “Pharaoh Dyhianna, I don’t understand why you think he is alive.”

  “Someone new is in the Triad,” I said.

  “How can you tell?” Ragnar asked. “The psiberweb is gone.”

  “Kyle space is still there. I was in it. So was Kelric.”

  Ragnar spoke smoothly. “You’ve been under a lot of strain.”

  I gave him a dour look. “I’m not imagining it.”

  “I would never imply such,” he assured me. “But what you’ve been through lately could affect your perceptions.”

  Eldrin scowled. “Her ‘perceptions’ are fine, Ragnar.”

  The admiral answered in an overly courteous voice. “Thank you, Prince Eldrin.”

  A familiar tension tightened my shoulders. Not now, I willed them both, even though I knew Ragnar couldn’t hear. They had fought these verbal battles for years.

  Eldrin glanced at me. Then he took a breath and answered Ragnar with formal civility. “Very well, Admiral.”

  When neither of them said anything else, both Jon and I relaxed. I wasn’t the only one disquieted by the antipathy between Ragnar and Eldrin. When two people both held such high positions, their antagonism stopped being personal and became political.

  Vazar, however, had no hesitation about wading into the fray. “Dehya, could your calculations be connected to Naaj? She was Kelric’s sister-in-law.”

  “I don’t think so.” My main worry about Naaj Majda concerned what she would do if Kelric showed up, claiming his title and assets. She might decide he should go back to being dead before anyone discovered he lived.

  “You think Kelric went to a Lock?” Eldrin asked.

  “He would have had to,” I said. “If he joined the Triad.”

  Ragnar didn’t look convinced. “No one has been to the Orbiter or the Lock on Raylicon.”

  “Then he used the one the Traders stole,” I said.

  Vazar scowled. “How? They crashed the psiberweb with it.”

  “We don’t know for certain they caused the collapse,” Jon said.

  I sifted through my mental files. “I suspect it was a combination of events. Taquinil and I dropped into Kyle space at the same time the Traders were misusing the Lock. Even without our presence, their activities would have destabilized the Kyle universe. Add Taquinil and me, and it’s no wonder it imploded.”

  “Wouldn’t a new one immediately form?” Ragnar’s eyes glinted with dark humor. “Sort of a mental Big Bang?”

  I quirked my eyebrow at him. “I imagine so, given that I’m not dead.”

  Jon spoke. “Then the implosion of the psiberspace where we built our webs must have occurred before you and your son fell into the Lock.”

  “I think so.” I prayed I was right, because if I had missed the implosion, Taquinil must have too. Not just him, either. “To join the Triad, Kelric would need entry into Kyle space, but it could be any Kyle space. If he has been a Trader prisoner all these years, he might have found a way to reach the Lock.” I wondered if he had joined the Triad and then deactivated the Lock.

  Ragnar scratched his ear. “I suppose it’s possible.”

  I recognized his look. “No, you don’t.”

  “Well, you have to admit, it’s farfetched.”

  “She doesn’t have to admit any damn thing,” Eldrin said.

  The admiral gave him a sour look. “My apologies if I gave offense.”

  “It’s all right,” I said, watching Eldrin. Even with Ragnar, he didn’t usually react this sharply, at least not without provocation. Since his return from the Traders, he had been curt with everyone.

  Eldrin returned my gaze, his mood a blend of old frustration and new pain. I could tell he didn’t want me to trust Ragnar. Even so, I needed the admiral. For all the discords he hit with people, he was an exceptional strategist and strong supporter of our family. But I couldn’t fully trust anyone. Majda had a history of loyalty to the Ruby Dynasty that stretched back millennia, yet I had even more misgivings about Naaj. Too many people had too much to gain by controlling the Ruby Dynasty. I wasn’t even sure about Vazar. It made me hesitate to mind-speak with Eldrin in her presence.

  I abhorred this distrust. The undefined position of the Ruby Dynasty within the political structure of Skolia made it worse. The Assembly governed, but without us they couldn’t maintain their power. We were making decisions here that required Assembly approval, but we had no Assembly representative. Technically it wasn’t legal. In fact, it could be viewed as an attempted coup by the Ruby Dynasty, with the backing of the Imperial Fleet, the strongest arm of ISC.

  Well, hell. What were we supposed to do, sit around until the Assembly let us act? If we had done that, Eldrin would be in custody on Earth now. This was no time to falter. Besides, if I ever did attempt a coup, I would approach the Pharaoh’s Army first, rather than the Imperial Fleet. The Army’s history of loyalty to the Pharaoh went back five millennia.

  Then again, Majda dominated that branch of ISC, with Naaj as General of the Army. I might do better with Jon and Ragnar. Not that I was planning to overthrow the Assembly. But this would be an ideal time for the coup I wasn’t contemplating, with the current power structure weakened and communications down everywhere. It was a good thing I wasn’t considering it, because before I made such a move, I should have my sister and brother-in-law at my side.

  I regarded Jon Casestar. “We need to rescue Roca and Eldrinson from Earth.”

  He met my gaze. “We’ve sent ships to confer with HQ and the Assembly. We haven’t heard back yet.”

  “We don’t have time to wait,” I said.

  Ragnar spoke. “We don’t have authority to act in a situation as volatile as this.” His voice cooled as he glanced at Jon. “The s
ame holds true for the decision to occupy Delos.”

  Jon was unfazed. “Under the circumstances, I considered it warranted.”

  Eldrin spoke to Ragnar with barely controlled hostility. “Had they waited for approval, I would be on my way to Earth now.”

  “So you would,” Ragnar murmured.

  “Ragnar,” I warned.

  He turned to me, his gaze intent. “The Imperator wields a great deal of power even in times of peace.”

  What did that mean? “We’ve never had a time of peace.”

  “That calls even more for a strong Imperator.” He paused. “A hereditary Imperator, one who isn’t hobbled by civilian councils during times of crisis.”

  Interesting. It almost sounded as if he were putting the Imperator ahead of the Assembly, supporting my family over the current government.

  Vazar spoke flatly. “If we make any move on Earth, they could interpret it as an act of war.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” I said.

  Ragnar tilted his head. “You have a suggestion?”

  Before I could respond, Jon spoke carefully. “I can notify HQ of any suggestions you make, Your Highness.”

  Notify, pah. I tried to glean what lay within the fortress of his mind. I had always had a problem reading him. “We may have to move fast.”

  Vazar leaned forward, her forearms resting on the table, her body poised as if she were prepared for battle. Then she dropped her bombshell. “I’ve been granted authority to speak for Majda.”

  Everyone fell silent. Her statement left no ambiguity; she had just claimed Naaj appointed her to speak for the acting Imperator. To say it was no small assertion was akin to saying I had worried a bit about Eldrin when the Traders had him. I found her words hard to credit; Naaj had no reason to dilute her power that way. Why had Vazar said nothing before this? The answer was obvious; she had no proof. If her claim proved false, the antediluvian laws of the noble Houses would have her executed for treason. I couldn’t imagine her making such an assertion lightly. Ragnar spoke first. “I assume you have proof?” “Yes,” Vazar said. “Send a message to headquarters.” He snorted. “This discussion started because we need to act faster than we can communicate with headquarters.”

  I considered. Vazar was a Primary, one of our best. In her youth she had been a top-notch fighter pilot. Now she worked at HQ. It wasn’t inconceivable that she and Naaj had discussed this, but had yet to make it official. As Imperator, Naaj Majda was the commanding officer of both Ragnar and Jon. That meant Vazar’s claim was tantamount to saying her decisions superseded those of the two admirals. Although she held a rank similar to theirs, she was J-Force and we were on Fleet ships. I didn’t think Naaj would give her that authority, but I couldn’t be sure. If Naaj had charged her with such a duty, it implied she placed great trust in Vazar, enough to make me question Vazar’s loyalties.

  Or Vazar could be acting on her own. If she moved against Naaj, she would need our protection. If her actions benefited the House of Majda, Naaj might support her anyway; only they knew the truth. But if it came to a confrontation, with the Ruby Dynasty between, that would split the two most powerful factions of the nobility, weakening both Majda and the Ruby Dynasty. It would create a schism that the Assembly could use to wrest away what little power we retained in this modern era.

  What a mess. I needed to talk to Vazar in private. I couldn’t risk mind-speaking here. I had no problem with Eldrin catching leakage from our thoughts, but my Jagernaut bodyguards were also psions.

  Jon Casestar was speaking to Vazar. “We have had no notification from Imperator Majda regarding this matter.”

  “She made the charge,” Vazar said. “I don’t have the documentation with me. It is your decision whether or not to accept my word. But if you refuse and my claim turns out to be true, you will have more trouble than you can imagine.”

  Bold today, aren’t we? I thought.

  Vazar glanced at me, but didn’t answer.

  Ragnar was more blunt. “If you’re lying, Primary, we could be accused of treason.”

  “I can’t accept a change of command,” Jon said. “Not without proof.”

  “I’ve no wish to disrupt your chain of command,” Vazar said. “However, I can respond for HQ regarding any proposals to move against Earth.”

  I wished I knew if this came from Vazar or Naaj. Although I didn’t sense Vazar lying, she was accomplished at guarding her thoughts.

  Ragnar spoke dryly. “It strikes me as premature to discuss how we will execute a plan when we have no plan.”

  At the word execute, Vazar winced.

  Watching them negotiate the convolutions of their authority made me uneasy. If Vazar didn’t push a change of command, then Jon Casestar held rank here. But Ragnar was an imposing force in the Fleet, as was Vazar in the J-Force. I wanted all their support, but if I became pushed into a corner, I might have to choose.

  Whom should I trust?

  18

  Mists of Loss

  I had just pulled on my nightshirt when a bell chimed in the living room of my suite. My hope stirred. I missed Eldrin at night, in the quiet times we used to spend together, before the war had made him withdraw into himself. His responses to Ragnar today had made me wonder if he would come to my quarters tonight, if only to ensure that his claim to the Ruby Pharaoh remained undisputed. I would like to think he would seek me out for more than that, but I would settle for any reason, I longed to see my husband.

  “Laplace, who is that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” my suite’s El answered. “He’s using a shadow maker. I can’t penetrate his shroud.”

  That didn’t sound like Eldrin. I went into the living room, to the entrance archway, and touched a small panel at shoulder level. A holoscreen activated by the door, showing the area outside.

  Ragnar Bloodmark.

  He stood at ease, lanky and lean, exuding casual menace. None of my Jagernaut bodyguards were outside. Although they could be gone because they were changing shifts, I doubted it. Security would never allow such a gap. More likely, Ragnar had dismissed them. I had my neural nodes do an IR check of the suite and verified that the security monitors watching my suite were still operational. Then I spoke coolly into the comm. “Admiral.”

  “Admiral?” His eyebrow went up. “Since when did we become so formal?”

  When indeed. “It’s late, Ragnar.”

  “Are you busy?”

  “I was thinking.”

  His lips quirked. “I thought I felt the ship shaking.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Probably the engines.”

  “May I come in?”

  It was an awkward request. Top-level officers didn’t visit my private quarters at night. As a family friend, Ragnar could make a personal call, but not under these circumstances. Given the way ISC Security monitored my quarters, they had to be making a record of this exchange. His presumption astonished me. After what Eldrin had been through, and his well-known discomfort with Ragnar, the admiral couldn’t have chosen a more ill-judged approach. In fact, it made no sense. Ragnar was too smart for such a mistake.

  I turned my voice frosty. “I don’t think so, Admiral Blood-mark.”

  He glanced around the hall. “Dehya, we need to talk. Now that he’s back.”

  What did that mean? He almost made it sound as if he were my lover. It would fit the way he and Eldrin had been at odds this afternoon.

  We all knew Security kept constant watch on me. Everyone also knew I could outwit their monitors. Although it warned them that I had something to hide, I often did it anyway, particularly when Eldrin and I used to lie together at night. But if I turned them off while Ragnar was here, especially after today’s politically volatile discussion, it would alarm Security. They might fear Ragnar and I were plotting—unless, of course, they assumed we had a more amorous assignation.

  So. Ragnar had just given me an excuse to deactivate the monitors without raising too much suspicion.
Or his suggestion might actually be as offensive as it looked. If anyone would try such a brazen stunt, it was Ragnar. But as aggressive as he might be, he was never stupid. I suspected he wanted to talk about the issue we had skirted today, the possibility of the Ruby Dynasty maneuvering outside of Assembly bounds. That could shift into talks of a coup, which we certainly couldn’t do with ISC monitoring me.

  I didn’t know if I wanted to consider action against the Assembly. In many ways, they functioned well. In other ways I hated how they worked, particularly in regard to my family. If I ever did move to reassert the reign of the Ruby Dynasty, I would need ISC support. Ragnar could be invaluable. To find out what he wanted now, all I had to do was play his game, turn off the monitors, and let him into my suite.

  But such a move would be an implicit betrayal of the trust Eldrin and I shared. Pah. The hell with Ragnar. If he wanted to offer support, he could find a way that didn’t make it look as if I had deceived my husband.

  I imagined icicles on my words. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Admiral. I will see you tomorrow.”

  He blew out a gust of air. “Damn it, Dehya. I need to talk to you about Councilor Roca and Web Key Eldrinson.”

  Fair enough. Given that statement, though, I couldn’t turn off the monitors now without making Security paranoid. Nor did I intend to see Ragnar in the middle of the night. But it wouldn’t be politic to leave the door shut in his face, either. “Just a moment,” I said.

  I went to my bedroom for a robe that covered me from shoulder to ankle. Then I returned and released the door. With a blue shimmer, the wall vanished. Ragnar stood there, all in black, from his knee-boots to his sharply creased uniform.

  He grinned, a wicked flash of teeth. “My greetings, Pharaoh Dyhianna.”

  “And mine,. Admiral.” I didn’t invite him in. “I will be happy to meet with you tomorrow.”

  “We can’t waste time.” He leaned his arm against the archway, above my head, and looked down at my face. “You need a strong base, Pharaoh. People you can trust.”