A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [16]
This was the great dirty secret of the Ildiran Empire, an answer to what had happened to the only lost human generation ship. These prisoners were descendants of the Burton, living here, hidden from the rest of the human race, for almost two centuries.
And five years ago, Nira Khali had joined them. The Dobro prisoners had never seen a green priest before, never heard of Theroc. Nira was a stranger, an emerald-skinned outsider.
At night, or in muted conversations on work crews, she quietly talked about her world, and the sentient trees, even the Terran Hanseatic League, hoping that someone might believe her. Many of the breeder captives suspected she was mad. Others, though, listened with disbelieving curiosity. But they did listen, and Nira continued to hold out hope.
She had borne unwanted children, one fathered by the Dobro Designate himself, one by Adar Kori’nh, two from other Ildiran kiths. And though she had nurtured each of those children for months, she cared the most for young Osira’h. Nira clutched the fence wires, feeling the cold hollow in her chest. She longed for her daughter, her Princess. The other human prisoners didn’t understand her misery. Half-breed children belonged to the Ildirans, and they were always taken away. They had never thought anything of it.
Nira often sent messages into the Ildiran city adjacent to the sprawling camp, asking to see Osira’h. The Dobro Designate denied her request each time, refusing to answer Nira’s questions. Not out of particular cruelty, but because Nira was no longer relevant to Osira’h‘s upbringing. The green priest woman had other breeding work to do.
Still, the Designate did understand the half-breed girl’s potential. Just the thought of it brought a faint smile to Nira’s face. Her Princess was more than just an interesting mixed-kith experiment. She is something special.
6
ADAR KORI’NH
The seven beautifully anodized Solar Navy ships arrived in response to the Dobro Designate’s summons. Adar Kori’nh stood in the command nucleus as the septa of ornate vessels entered a standard orbital configuration and retracted their elaborate reflective sails.
Back at the PrismPalace, he had received his orders directly from Mage-Imperator Cyroc’h—instructed to come personally, not to delegate the assignment to a lesser officer. Still, Kori’nh had frowned. “I have always been uneasy about the activities at Dobro, Liege. It is not…suitable for inclusion in the Saga of Seven Suns. ”
“Our work there will never be chronicled in the Saga, Adar. But still we must do it.” The Mage-Imperator had stirred, his tentaclelike braid twitching. “The Dobro experiments hold the key to our race’s survival, and even after generations of effort, we are not ready for the challenge we must face. And now, the hydrogues have returned. Time is short.”
Kori’nh knew that a million deep thoughts simmered quietly beneath the leader’s calm face, ideas far beyond his own comprehension. The Mage-Imperator was the focal point for all thism, the conduit through which soul-threads shone in faint glimmers from a higher plane composed entirely of light. He was unsettled by the very thought of questioning his leader’s wishes.
Even so, as commander of the entire Solar Navy, the Adar had to speak his mind. “Is there truly such urgency, Liege? The hydrogues have not escalated tensions since we withdrew from their gas giants.”
The Mage-Imperator shook his large head. “The hydrogues will not be content to remain within their strongholds. Soon they will become more aggressive. And we must be prepared to do whatever is necessary for the survival of our race.”
Having dutifully raised the question, Kori’nh had bowed and accepted the assignment. He had no other choice.
Now he waited in the warliner’s receiving bay as a shuttle rose from Dobro carrying the Designate himself. The Mage-Imperator