Free The Moon's Shadow by Catherine Asaro Page B

spoke little and listened well. He had infinite patience for his own intrigues and none for those of people he considered fools. As one of the two Joint Commanders of ESComm, he had earned the gratitude of the Aristos, who wished to conquer human-settled space, and the dread of the Skolians, who sought to staunch the near-fatal wound his armies had dealt their civilization.
    Kaliga considered himself an efficient man, punctual, and generous, too, perhaps to a fault. On his home world, he donated to local schools. He brought his spoiled young bride gifts when appropriate and resisted the impulse to gag her when she prattled. He prided himself on his dedication to his job and his integrity in performing it to the best of his ability, indeed, to the best of anyone’s ability. That his job had, over the decades, involved ordering the deaths of billions of people didn’t factor into his assessment of his character.
    Kaliga walked through the gardens in the space station where he lived. The habitat was one within a collection of mutually orbiting stations that made up the Sphinx Sector Rim Base. Bodyguards accompanied him, forming a bulwark; any taskmakers who saw them quickly withdrew.
    Today, Kaliga had company: Lord Jaibriol Raziquon, a lanky man with a sardonic lift to his mouth. His gray trousers and silver-blue shirt were impeccably cut. Like many Highton men, he had been named for a Qox emperor, either Jaibriol I or Jaibriol II, Kaliga didn’t know which. Now that a Jaibriol III had turned up, Eube would probably be inundated with Jaibriols. Xirad Kaliga had never cared for the name. He preferred sharp words that hit with a solid sound. Like Xirad.
    Raziquon had no formal position in either the military or civilian command on the station. He was simply a private citizen. It made his intelligence work for Kaliga all the more useful, because he operated outside established hierarchies. However, it also made him harder to control. No chain of command checked Raziquon; he did as he pleased. Although Kaliga found him useful, he didn’t trust him.
    They strolled down a path between two manicured lawns. This residential area was in the wheel of the station; in the distance, a spoke rose like a huge pillar from the ground to the “sky” far overhead.
    “My Line honors the new emperor,” Raziquon said. “We esteem his honored presence.”
    Kaliga almost snorted. Raziquon esteemed no one but himself. “The Line of Raziquon has always been loyal to the Qox Dynasty.”
    Raziquon inclined his head. “We value our ties with the imperial house.”
    “As do we all.” Right now Kaliga valued Raziquon’s ties more than his own. Kaliga interacted with the imperial court as a military officer, but Raziquon moved in those circles socially. He was well placed to gather intelligence on this new boy-emperor.
    Kaliga wanted to know what Corbal was plotting. The Xir lord could have kept both Eldrin and the throne for himself. Not that Kaliga believed Corbal would let Jaibriol rule; the cagey lord would control the emperor from the shadows, much as Kaliga cloaked his influence by appearing nondescript.
    Kaliga spoke dryly. “I imagine the Line of Xir also values its ties to the imperial Line.”
    Amusement glinted in Raziquon’s eyes. “One would think dear Corbal had a penchant for politics.” He laughed. “And for providers, eh? Pretty girls with yellow hair and big blue eyes.”
    That caught Kaliga’s attention. “Penchants have uses.”
    “Let’s just say, he might do anything to protect the dawn.” Raziquon flicked his hand to indicate his last word referred to his previous sentence.
    So. Corbal had a weakness, a provider named for the dawn. Although Kaliga had never seen Corbal show one mote of sentimentality, he had heard rumors of doting behavior. Could the powerhouse of the Xir bloodline be losing his edge? Kaliga doubted it. Corbal was as sharp as a man in the vigor of youth. But if he cared for this provider, it