Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [114]
Jora’h couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice once they were alone in the room. “And is there more treachery, Udru’h? Treachery of which I am unaware?”
Unruffled, the other man said, “I speak of the Hyrillka Designate.”
Jora’h could sense his brother’s distress through the thism bond, more clearly than he could grasp details from the fog of confusion around the Horizon Cluster. The Hyrillka Designate had plunged into a black nebula, an emptiness in the network of thism, and completely severed himself from the Ildiran Empire. The Mage-Imperator still had not learned what was happening there, had not heard back from his three scout cutters, and could no longer sense their crews in the thism either.
Jora’h hid his deep concern. “Adar Zan’nh and his warliners will quell the disturbance.”
“No, Liege. He will not.” Udru’h stepped farther up the dais, paying no heed to Yazra’h stiffening with menace. “Several days ago, the Adar’s warliners were seized by Designate Rusa’h. You are no longer in direct contact with the Adar, are you? That is because the Solar Navy troops have sworn their service to the rebellion. Surely you sensed it, but did not understand what had occurred?”
Jora’h sat up in alarm. “How do you know this? Even through the thism I can see only flickers. Violent flickers. I know that Rusa’h has killed some of my loyal citizens—including Pery’h. I sensed them being ripped away from the web, but aside from that...”
The Dobro Designate remained motionless as he reported. “Rusa’h has taken the population of Hyrillka into his own network. He also claims to have conquered Dzelluria. The whole fabric of thism has weakened around the Horizon Cluster.”
“And how do you know what has happened there, when I cannot sense clear thoughts even from my own sons, Adar Zan’nh—or Thor’h?”
“I know because early yesterday Prime Designate Thor’h brought one of the seized warliners to Dobro. He threatened to destroy my entire colony if I did not willingly join in their rebellion.” He let those words hang as he focused his gaze on his brother’s face. “Rusa’h claims to have received revelations directly from the Lightsource. He insists that you are breaking sacred traditions and must be removed so that the Ildiran people can follow the correct path again.”
Jora’h’s brow furrowed, and his braid twitched and thrashed. The explanation made sense, terrible sense. He had felt other striking pains in the thism , more echoes of death; he was certain his brother Orra’h on Dzelluria had been killed. Rusa’h’s work?
He stared at Udru’h for a long moment, trying to read him, but the Dobro Designate kept his face a calm mask. Finally, with the faintest note of frustration, Jora’h asked, “And when he asked you to join this madness, how did you respond? What did you say to Thor’h?”
Udru’h blinked, as if he had not expected his leader to be so blunt. “You are the Mage-Imperator. How can you have any doubt as to my answer?”
Jora’h narrowed his eyes. “Then how did you escape if Thor’h had an armed warliner? Why are you free to report to us? Is there deceit within deceit?”
Udru’h made a dismissive gesture. “I stalled the Prime Designate by saying that I would deliver my answer in person to Hyrillka. Rusa’h gains more from me if I join him of my free will, and he seems to believe he has a chance of swaying me. I played on that fact to buy time.”
“And does he have a chance of swaying you?”
“Of course not, Liege. I am always loyal to you.”
Jora’h was not sure he could believe him. He thought of all the times Udru’h had lied to him or withheld vital information. The Dobro Designate had always seen the universe in many shades of gray.
Udru’h continued. “After Thor’h departed, I came to Ildira with all possible speed. However, I must