Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [131]
Her aims accomplished, Maureen took her leave, as she had other work to do, and she’d had enough of socializing for now. Her guests were allowed to remain for hours, nibbling and drinking.
Initially, she had decided to do this for public relations reasons. But now that the wheels were in motion, the former Chairman did not regret the effort one bit.
Chapter 63—ADAR ZAN’NH
In his pampered life, Prime Designate Thor’h had received little military or tactical training. He was out of place—a poseur, and he did not even know it. In the sporadic moments of clear thought during his thismless confinement, Zan’nh resented the way his brother relished his position in the warliner’s command nucleus.
Once the forty-six stolen battleships reassembled at Hyrillka from their respective missions to Dzelluria and Dobro, the traitorous Thor’h was ready to continue spreading Rusa’h’s twisted rebellion throughout the Horizon Cluster. The Hyrillka Designate, meanwhile, remained behind at the center of his new thism web. Zan’nh felt more isolated than ever.
As he had already been warned, the Adar was “invited” to accompany his own maniple as the ships continued their conquests. The murderous pleasure mates and armored Solar Navy guards brusquely escorted Zan’nh from the citadel palace and marched him onto his former flagship. They forced him into a chair just inside the command nucleus as a smiling Thor’h launched the ships toward another system, where he would prosecute his uncle’s crusade.
Though the Ildiran rebels did not bind him to his seat or clamp his wrists with restraints, Zan’nh still felt helpless. The mere fact that his captors saw no need to restrain him sent an insulting message: Now they considered the Adar of the Solar Navy to be no threat at all.
The subsumed crewmembers formed an impenetrable bastion against any effort he might make to resume control of his former crew. He could see them all around him, but he could not feel them in the thism. The Adar felt as if he had gone deaf in his heart and mind, and he struggled to maintain his courage.
Every moment dragged out, increasing his edginess, no matter how much he strove to hold on to his judgment. How long would it be before the sense of abandonment turned to outright panic, before he decided to do anything—even join Rusa’h—in order to be back inside the comforting fabric of thism?
He seethed in silence, still searching for any opportunity to break Rusa’h’s control. But the entire crew had been ensnared by the Hyrillka Designate, turned to his cause; they would stand against their own Adar if he tried to enlist their aid. Unless he could do something alone...
Standing in the flagship’s command nucleus, Thor’h looked down at his captive brother with a superior smile. “You seem troubled, Zan’nh. Once you witness how assured our continued victory is, perhaps you will change your mind. One Ildiran colony after another will join us, because the Lightsource itself illuminates our path.”
“Don’t be so confident, Thor’h,” Zan’nh said, denying him any title at all. “The Mage-Imperator has not yet discovered the extent of your treachery. He will respond soon enough.”
Seeking an anchor, he fixed his mind on his clearest memory of the Mage-Imperator in his chrysalis chair at the dazzling Prism Palace, in the warming presence of many other Ildirans. As an exercise to keep his concentration strong, he attempted to count his brothers and sisters: lovely and athletic Yazra’h who acted as their father’s personal guard, quiet and intense Daro’h who had gone off to Dobro, studious yet brave Pery’h who had been assassinated as part of this rebellion, treacherous Thor’h who had betrayed his own father and the whole Empire—
The Prime Designate chuckled. “And how will our father respond, Zan’nh? Will he send a massive military force against other Ildirans? Against us? I think not. He would