by Jo Zebedee
Kerra touched him and he clung to her arm, his hand shaking. Sonly was gone. He swallowed, trying to take it in. Even when they hadn’t been together, they’d been friends. They’d managed to work together, talk every day, even have the occasional joke for ten years. A sharp pain started at his heart, expanding and ripping through him.
“Dad, it’s all right, I’m here,” Kerra said, and he nodded, trying to tell himself he hadn’t lost everything, but it made no difference. “Mum needs to rest, but she’ll live.”
She’ll live. Kerra’s words echoed around his head, not sinking in for a moment. He turned his head and this time Sonly was looking at him, her blue eyes searching his. Lichio was holding her hand. He reached out and pushed a strand of hair back, and she smiled at her brother, small and exhausted, but there. She was alive. Kare breathed in, hard. Tears broke and rolled down his face, and he didn’t care. Nothing mattered, not the façade of being in control, not what his son might be thinking seeing this weakness, nothing except that Sonly – and Kerra, and Lichio – was alive. Somehow, they’d made it out. Never again: this is it. To hell with my empire, to hell with everything.
He tried to prop himself up, wincing at the tearing in his chest, but Kerra pushed him back down. “Let me finish.”
He waited through the familiar pain as the tissues healed, aligning themselves, his eyes on Sonly. Her mouth turned up into a lazy smile and he wanted to go to her and kiss her to make it better.
“You know, I just saved the day for all of you,” said Lichio, his voice slow, a little stunned. “A thank you might be in order.”
Footsteps came down the corridor. “You did? I didn’t know you could pilot, le Payne.”
“Okay, so Farran helped.”
Farran knelt beside Kare. “We’re clear of Belaudii, Karlyn. Your allies kept any pursuit off us.”
“Good.” Kare struggled to sit up, and this time managed it. He pushed Kerra’s hand away. “Thanks, honey. You did good down there.” He glanced at Lichio. “Thank you.”
Lichio met his eyes and nodded, his face hard. He gathered Sonly into his arms and stood. “Come on, I’m going to get you to the cabin where you can rest.”
She put her arms around his neck and nodded against him, her eyes half closed. Farran helped Kare to his feet, supporting his weight, as they walked to the living area. Kare sank into one of the seats. The freighter’s lounge area was bigger than the living area of his apartment, plush leather seats with discreet strapping for landings and departures making it seem less like a ship and more like the home it was purported to be.
Kerra followed, her face white. Her eyes flitted between her dad and Farran, but she didn’t ask the questions that must be going through her mind. She stopped beside her brother, and said something that brought him to his feet. For a moment his eyes met Kare’s, unreadable, and then they shifted away.
“Have you been on board a Roamer ship before?” Farran asked Baelan. He shook his head.
“Come on,” the Roamer said, and Kare was grateful for his taking over. Farran smiled over at Kerra. “I’ll show you both around.” He sent a glance at Kare. “I’ll keep them close.” The message was clear – the boy would be kept on a tight leash.
They left, and Kare put his head back, exhausted. The seat back caught on his collar, and he took a tiny bit of power and snapped it open. He held it in his hands; last time, it had been such a symbol that every time he’d seen it – or anything resembling it – he’d been nauseated. This time, it was a piece of metal and nothing more.
***
Lichio closed the door of the cabin as quietly as he could, careful not to wake Sonly. He leaned against the wall of the corridor and closed his eyes; she was alive. Just. Even Kerra hadn’t known what to do at first; he had listened to her, as he’d worked on Kare’s wounds, pleading with Sonly to come round. When he’d glanced over, Sonly had been lying still, her blood-soaked blouse pulled up. Part of him had wanted to shake Kare, bring him round, and make him see–
He heard voices and looked down the small corridor. Farran was explaining the force-field to Kerra, looking almost reverent, and it took Lichio a moment to realise why: if Kare was the king, Kerra must be their princess. He frowned – the Varnons were sorted, then, but what about the le Paynes? He closed his eyes, thinking of Josef’s apartment, the only place he really relaxed. Had Josef made it out of the city? Shadeen? Sonly had worked for years to achieve her position; was she going to lose it?
“Uncle Lich!” Kerra’s eyes sparkled. “Farran says he’ll let me fly the ship.”
He smiled, hoping she didn’t pick up that it was forced. “Great, Kerra.” He stepped past her. “I’m going to have a meeting with your dad. Don’t fly into a black hole, eh?”
She giggled. Behind her, the boy trailed along, looking faintly stunned. He was going to have to be addressed, if he was who Lichio thought he was.
Lichio stepped into the sitting room and pulled the door closed behind him with a gentle snick. He turned to Kare, who was watching him, his eyes wary. Lichio dropped into the seat opposite.
“You shouldn’t have left,” he said. “I needed to know where you were.”
Kare looked down at his hands; he was holding the collar, twisting it round and round. When he looked up, his eyes were clearer than they’d been for years, less guarded. “You’re right; I shouldn’t.”
Lichio drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, anger building in him. “That’s not enough. You walked out on your empire and left us not knowing whether you were alive or if you’d come back. It wasn’t fair on any of us.”
“No.” There was a silence, eventually broken by Kare. “I could tell you that I didn’t know what I was doing, that I was too sick….” And it might be, at least partially, the truth. But it wasn’t enough. Lichio had been fed up. He hadn’t wanted to police an event where the main party fought against every required appearance. For the last year, he hadn’t wanted to stay in the army. He still had.
He started to pace, embracing each jolt of pain from his ankle. “Bullshit.” He stopped in front of Kare. “You didn’t want to stay.” His voice cracked, and the anger came out, spiralling. “Well, sometimes I don’t want to, either. But we said we’d put this empire in place, and we said we’d do it because it was right.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “It was what my dad believed in, and it’s all been for nothing. Things are in tatters down there. The city is lost, the compound’s been taken. If you had been there, we could have split our resources. You could have held the compound, not left it for Ryan to claim.” He ran his fingers through his hair and lowered his voice, not wanting to bring Kerra or Farran in. Kare’s head was down, the collar twisting round and round in his hands, and Lichio said, “It didn’t mean enough to you.”
Kare set the collar on the table beside him and leaned forwards. He put his head into his hands, rubbing his temples. “Perhaps not. But we have more pressing matters for now. The postmortem can wait.”
He was right. “The boy?” asked Lichio.
“He’s from the tribes.” Kare looked up. “He fled the Empress at the end. If I’d have left him, it would have gone bad for him.”
Bad, in the way only the Empress could be. But what the hell were they supposed to do with a tribal boy? Child hostages weren’t Lichio’s idea of fighting a war, nor had they ever been Kare’s.
“What will you do with him?”
“It depends on the boy. I can’t hand him back easily.” Kare looked drained, his face tense and thin. “I’ll add it to the list of things to worry about.” He met Lichio’s eyes. “And you? Have you any to add?”
“None.” Except that the planet was lost, and the last ten years wiped out. “We fucked up: your mother is back in Abendau because we – you and me – didn’t do our jobs.”
Kare swore. “I should have overhauled the tower’s security and used my configurations instead of yours. In fact, I should have killed my mother the mo
ment I came to my senses.”
Except that hadn’t been possible. Too many of the great families had been arraigned against him; if news of her assassination had leaked, it would have destroyed Kare’s empire.
Lichio sat back on his seat, his anger fading a little. “You should have been honest; if you felt so bad that you wanted to leave, you should have told us.”
A sharp laugh from Kare made him look up.
“Honest?” said Kare. “That’s rich. You hide everything that matters in your life from us.” He met Lichio’s eyes, unblinking. “Perhaps we should all be more honest about what we want.”
Lichio’s blood chilled. He opened his mouth to protest, saw that Kare’s eyes weren’t angry, but sympathetic, and said, “You know?”
“About your ambassador friend? Yes.” Kare shrugged. “So does Sonly. I’d have talked to you about it, except you obviously didn’t want to.” He looked down at his hands. “And – I didn’t exactly feel I was the right person to push, given…” He paused, and Lichio could feel the moment ebb away, as it had so many times over the years when he’d come close to confiding in someone, and he swallowed his disappointment. Kare looked up, and gave a twisted smile. “Ten years and I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about how I felt…” He picked up the collar, passing it through his fingers. “You know why Sonly and I separated?”
Lichio nodded. “You pushed her away until she thought you didn’t want her anymore.” Let Kare face the truth, let there be no hiding.
Kare shook his head. “Lichio, I want her. Every bit of me wants her. But … when I’m with her – anyone – I close off. I can’t…” He bit his lip and then muttered something like to hell with it. “I haven’t been able to have sex since I was released. With anyone.” He looked like he’d rather be back in the cells than admitting it. “Since you seemed to have forged some sort of path out of what happened, I didn’t feel I had the right to interfere.”
Actually, the cells would be preferable. Lichio got up and walked to the small galley. He pulled out a coffee pod and snapped it, keeping his back turned. “It’s not that I think it matters.”
“We have other soldiers who are gay,” said Kare. “I don’t remember making it a criteria that my officers couldn’t be.”
Was that what he thought? That it was about the job?
“I’m not gay.” Lichio’s face burned. “I’m bi.” And it wasn’t anyone else’s business. He’d spent his childhood learning that. When his mother had died, there’d been no one who had time to support him. His father was running the Banned, Eevan was slipping up the ranks as fast as he could. Sonly was already being fast-tracked. The only thing that had been drilled into Lichio was not to ask for attention for anything that mattered. Be the good younger son, do his job, don’t rock the boat.
He heard Kare getting up, the soft padding of his bare feet as he walked over. “It makes no difference to me. Or to Sonly.” He leaned on the bulkhead beside Lichio and took another coffee pod. “It’s up to you if you want it to be known or not.” He took a sip of the coffee and winced. “I see I get my coffee habit from my father’s side. Will your friend make it off planet?”
A sharp chill went through Lichio. “I think so; I had contingencies in place.”
“Anyone else? The woman from two nights ago, for instance?”
Lichio jumped. “Is nothing bloody secret in this world?”
Kare shrugged. “You’re a general in my army; intelligence reaches me.”
He should have known – Kare would never take the chance of only one line of intelligence.
“Shadeen is from the old town – she’ll have gone to ground,” said Lichio. “There is no one else. I haven’t had hundreds of relationships, you know–”
“Good. I don’t want to airlift half of Abendau…”
Lichio reddened. “It’s not like that.”
“No?”
“They know about each other.…” He paused, thinking. “Well, one does.”
“Exes?”
“None to worry about.” He met Kare’s eyes. “I am fairly well known; I was discreet.”
Kare made a face. “Gods, you know how to enjoy yourself…”
Lichio smiled and then sobered. “Josef – he’s serious. I’ve been in a relationship with him for about three years. Anyone else – it’s casual.”
Kare lifted his comms unit. “Let’s see if Simone can get to him. If not, presumably he’ll make contact with you.”
“I don’t have my comms unit,” said Lichio. “But once we reactivate it, I assume so.” He ducked his head. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Kare took a deep breath. “And about the other: yes, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have left – and I wouldn’t have, if I’d been thinking straight. They could have taken me anywhere, used me as a hostage; anything.”
Lichio nodded, glad to change the subject. “Did they really make you their king?”
“Yes.” Kare flashed a dirty look at him. “It’s a great honour from them.”
“Right.” Lichio smirked. “Have you warned them?”
“About?” The tone was frosty – he knew perfectly well what Lichio meant.
“I arranged your last coronation. It took me weeks to get you to walk down a hall, sit in a seat and say three lines. You still did it with the worst grace I have ever seen.” He grinned. “I’ll have a word with Farran, tell him to start listing the traditions that really matter to the Roamers, before you throw half of them away.”
Kare’s mouth twitched. Lichio looked up at the door, and said in a low voice, “I watched them take her to the palace.”
“Sonly?” Kare kept his voice low.
“Yes. I was there, just after I’d fallen. They marched her up to the door.” The worm of guilt, so familiar, made him stop and catch his breath. “I didn’t stop them.”
“They’d have taken you too. It was the right thing to do.”
He’d cling to that, for now. “When she got to the palace, Jake Peiret was there. She asked him for help and he turned his back on her. He let them take her in.” Their eyes met. “And he hasn’t come out from under any woodwork to speak up for her since.”
“The little bastard,” said Kare.
Lichio nodded. “So, you shouldn’t have gone, but at least you came back. And at least you got her – them – out.”
“At some point, one of us will have to deal with him,” Kare said.
Lichio grinned. “I have a few idea–”
“Neither of you are to do anything.” Sonly stood, propped against the door frame.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” he said.
“I’ll rest when I’m dead.” Even so, she crossed to a seat and sank into it. “I’ll deal with Jake, when I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?” Kare snapped a tea pod and took it over to her. “He wouldn’t even know it’s me. I’ll do anything you like.”
“No. The day I need you to stand up to some twenty-five-year-old toe rag for me, I will be ready for my grave.”
He held his hands up. “Fine; don’t say I wasn’t gallant enough to offer.”
Sonly looked between the two men. “Have you said everything you need to?”
Kare raised an eyebrow at Lichio. “Have we?”
Lord, yes. “I’ve said what I wanted to.”
“Good,” said Sonly. “What’s left down there, Lich?”
“Honestly?”
“It seems a good time for honesty.”
Lichio looked between them. “We tried to retake the compound, but the attack failed.” Spectacularly, according to his last despatch. “We lost Lyle.”
“Damn.” Kare’s mouth tightened. “Bendau?”
“Holding on, just. Sam’s family are on one of the other Roamer ships, Perrault is maintaining some defence, but it’s a matter of time now.”
Kare exchanged a glance with Sonly. “We pull out,” he said.
“
If we do, your empire is gone. Your mother will retake the planet. After that, the empire. You could throw away everything.”
“She’ll try.” Kare’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “The empire isn’t Belaudii. It’s me.” He paused, his eyes on Sonly, as sure as he’d ever looked. “Her being back makes an empire even more vulnerable. We will be fighting her trying to snatch it at every turn. But if we remove the empire entirely? Then, she has nothing to take.”
“It depends how much support you have,” said Lichio. Was this another way for Kare to walk? Was there a chance he welcomed what had happened? He took in the tiredness in Kare’s eyes, the pain lines around them. No. He may not want the role for himself; he absolutely didn’t want his mother in place instead. Whatever Kare was thinking about, it wasn’t ceding his mother any power.
“I suggest we find out.” Kare looked between them both. “Pull what’s left of our people out of Bendau, Lich. I don’t want to lose any more over a cause that’s lost.”
Lichio stood up. “And then?”
Kare leaned forwards. “Unless I’ve added my days up wrong, it was ten years today when I took the palace.”
“You’re right,” said Lichio. He’d known it all day, had felt history repeating itself in every move he’d made; he just hadn’t recognised it.
“I promised myself I’d quit after ten years. At my coronation. I swore I’d hold it for ten years – like a penance – and then devolve.”
Lichio’s fists clenched. So much for honesty…
“Without telling us?” Sonly’s clipped tone showed she was feeling better.
“Yes.” Kare had to the decency to look embarrassed. “I planned to explain it to you after the Military Anniversary.”
“What are you planning?” demanded Sonly, her voice sharp.
“If my mother wants Abendau, she can have it. If she wants an empire, however…” He shook his head. “I am ready to form an alliance of the outer rim and middle zone planets, plus any families who don’t want my mother back. As long as I’m there, and the last Emperor, she can’t rebuild. Especially if I control the bloodline.” His cheek tightened a little at that. Child hostages? Lichio turned away, sick; if it came to it, he wouldn’t object. Not knowing what the Empress would do if she had added legitimacy. If the boy’s freedom had to sacrificed for peace, he’d swallow it.
