Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [89]
Ildiran guards followed, their shoulders hunched as if they were prepared to tear the threatening robot limb from mechanical limb. But Jora’h cautiously raised his hand, not wanting to pit them unnecessarily against the powerful ancient machine. “I was not aware that the Klikiss robots requested a visit. What do you intend here?”
The robot raised itself until it towered a meter above the guard kithmen. The Mage-Imperator’s protectors showed not the least bit of intimidation. “I am Dekyk.” Its voice was like rough metal grating across stone. “I have come to demand answers.”
A gasp went through the audience. Everyone waited to see how their all-powerful leader would deal with the situation.
Jora’h made his voice loud and strong. “You have no right to demand answers from the Ildirans.”
“The Klikiss robots are concerned about your activities. On Dobro. On Maratha. We have a right to know. You are breaking promises. You are discarding us.”
Jora’h let anger creep into his reply. He had received no unusual reports about Maratha, which was mostly empty for the darkness season, and he sensed nothing extraordinary through the thism, though the connection with his brother Avi’h was not strong. And how did the Klikiss robots know about Dobro?
“Matters of the Ildiran Empire are of no concern to the Klikiss robots,” he said. “The decisions I make are for the good of my people, and are not subject to your approval.”
Dekyk’s hemispherical carapace split in half as if he were about to open his shell and take wing. “We had an agreement about Maratha. You have ignored the terms.”
The Mage-Imperator narrowed his star-sapphire eyes, sick of so many secrets. He called to everyone in the reception hall, “Leave us. I must speak privately.” When the guard kithmen looked uneasy about leaving him vulnerable, Jora’h reconsidered. “Yazra’h, you alone may stay. Protect me if it becomes necessary.”
His daughter stood, fully as intimidating as any armed guard. Her three predatory pets growled low in their throats.
Once the skysphere hall was clear of supplicants, courtiers, and guards, Jora’h finally answered the black robot. “A bargain requires participation on both sides. You robots have failed us. Hydrogues continue to attack Ildiran worlds, and you do not prevent it. Therefore, you are either treacherous or useless.”
Dekyk seemed to deflate, though he did not back away. “In their search for the remnants of the verdani, the hydrogues devastated any forested planet they encountered. Some of those planets happened to be Ildiran. We could not stop them.”
Jora’h pushed himself straighter, hating the chrysalis chair. “You could have told them the location of the worldforest at any time. That would have saved Ildiran planets.” As he said this, though, he felt anguish for this betrayal of the towering worldtrees that had so impressed him when he’d visited Reynald…the trees that Nira herself had loved so well.
“We did not choose to divulge the worldforest location,” Dekyk answered.
“And because of that choice, many of my people died. We resurrected you several centuries ago as we promised, and we have adhered to the vow that our civilization would neither create robots nor build sentient machines in any form. The Ildiran Empire has remained true to its promises. That is all you need to know. Now do your part as well.”
He stared implacably at Dekyk, who remained unmoving like a nightmarish statue. Yazra’h stood beside her Isix cats, which flexed their supple clawed feet, eager to attack. Her eyes reflected her surprise at the unexpected information she had heard.
Finally, after a long moment, Dekyk withdrew, clearly not satisfied. The robot swiveled his torso and lurched back out of the PrismPalace without another word. The Mage-Imperator stared after him while Yazra’h watched her father. The skysphere hall seemed suddenly