Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [12]
In her revelations to Osira’h, her mother had been sure that Jora’h himself was kindhearted and good, that the Dobro Designate was the true evil behind this plan. But if Jora’h was truly as benevolent as her mother believed, why had he done nothing about the Dobro breeding camps? For generations, Ildirans had held humans captive and abused them. Jora’h was the Mage-Imperator of the Ildiran Empire. He certainly must have had the opportunity to do what was right, yet he had not intervened.
Osira’h decided she couldn’t trust anyone.
Before the mentalist could finish his inspirational talk, Designate Udru’h stepped into the room. Anxious, he swept his gaze across the faces of Nira’s five mixed-breed children, then focused his entire attention on Osira’h. His disturbed eyes glistened with a sheen of what might have been tears, but also a fanatical, hopeful pride. For her.
“I have just received a message from the Prism Palace,” he said to her. “The hydrogues have destroyed our mining world of Hrel-oro, and the Solar Navy could do nothing against them.” Osira’h could see the agitation on the Designate’s face, in his movements. Tangible emotions poured from him like heat from a newly stoked fire.
She did not speak. Udru’h had been so kind to her, so attentive and helpful. The girl had loved and respected him...but now she saw him through two sets of eyes. With one part of her mind, Osira’h thought of how he had taken her under his wing, kept her in the main house overlooking the breeding camps. Although Udru’h was not given to gushing compliments or praise, Osira’h knew she was truly special to him.
But she also remembered another side of the Designate: the cold and efficient brutality that her mother had experienced. He had isolated Nira, starved her for sunlight without caring how he scarred her mind, as long as her body and her reproductive system functioned. He had pushed her to the bed in the breeding barracks and raped her. He had never looked at Nira with anger or disgust, just a hard, businesslike detachment.
In deeper, more pleasant memories, she recalled how Jora’h—her father—had loved and caressed the green priest woman. But Udru’h had seen Nira only as a receptacle, the recipient of his sperm, an object with which he had to perform an unpleasant yet necessary task.
When these memories blazed in her mind, Osira’h could not look at him.
Udru’h continued explaining. “For several years, the Klikiss robots have failed to keep the hydrogues away from Ildiran worlds. Now they have broken their commitment completely.” He placed a paternal hand on the girl’s shoulder, and she tried not to flinch. “We need you now, Osira’h, more than ever. The hydrogues have always refused to communicate with us. They have not responded to any of our pleas. We need you to get through to them, convince them to speak with the Mage-Imperator before they annihilate us all.”
She nodded solemnly. “This is the purpose for which I was born.”
Now Designate Udru’h had even stranger news. “Though it may seem impossible, my brother Rusa’h has started a rebellion on Hyrillka. Many Ildirans have complained about the Mage-Imperator’s erratic behavior and his ready dismissal of sacred traditions, but this has gone much further. Prime Designate Thor’h has joined Rusa’h and assassinated the Hyrillka Designate-in-waiting.”
Osira’h had already sensed a growing, incomprehensible storm in the mental network of thism, like a telepathic black hole that sucked at the Ildiran soul. The disturbance had come from somewhere on the edge of the Horizon