Free Voices of Chaos by A. C. Crispin, Ru Emerson Page A

the threat posed by the Duke and the Prelate is entirely removed. But this returns us to the CLS, and appearances. Khyriz, I told the Council I would speak with you about your attention to the outsiders. I have. I did not say I would put restrictions on you, and I will not. However, if you appear to act in such a way, then the Council will be appeased."
    Khyriz gestured assent, and fought to keep his whiskers from going flat. "I...
    understand. Father, I shall."
    "Good. You are the most intelligent and open-minded of my offspring, Khryiz.
    I... you should also know this: Since the Heeyoons came, the Prelate has raised the problem of Asha"--the older Arekkhi hesitated--"insisting we must destroy them all."
    "Kill...?" Khyriz stared, his ears now as flat as his whiskers.
    "Essentially. Compose yourself!" The Emperor ordered sternly. His son forced ears partially erect. "Good. I understand the shock this gives you." He turned away from the table, yellow and brown patterned royal silk swirling, then settling in smooth folds. Khyriz watched him, still stunned. How long has he known this, and kept it secret? "As much a shock," the Emperor went on, "as when I learned by happenstance that Nijho would add xezzik to the water given to all Asha, along with the ephana worker-Asha are all already fed."
    Xezzik --mind destroyer. Khyriz fought for control, but the very thought of the drug that created ahla-Asha and ahla-Arekkhi had the power to make him ill.
    The voice-killing ephana was bad enough!
    The Emperor gazed long and searchingly at his son, who could find no words to say. "The drugs will not be so misused. Once I have sufficient allies, and enough armed, the stores of those drugs will be destroyed.
    Believe that, Khyriz." His father's ears quivered. He likes this no better than I, Khyriz realized, impulsively, the Prince held out his hands.
    "I do believe it. I want the same thing, Father." But if his father's count of allies was wrong! Changes of alliance were
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    common among high-ranked Arekkhi. Like Zhenu. "Zhenu," he said aloud. "I never trusted him! If he plots treachery...!"
    He hadn't realized such behavior was more than proof of a lack in the Arekkhi people, until Magdalena Perez had taught him something of Renaissance and post-Renaissance Earth European history. Manipulation, treachery, religious warfare, marriages for political gain, assassinations, circles within circles: Since those few sessions with Magdalena, he'd thought of his cousin's abusive, arrogant father as the English Iron Duke--
    Zhenu was, to him, very like the narrow and chill-hearted leader Cromwell, who'd battled to destroy a pleasant way of life, and behead a king.
    Magdalena. My Magdalena. She was so near. But he dared not think of her, either. If his father knew his immediate thoughts, he'd have cause for concern. The Emperor didn't need the distraction. Any more than I need to explain it or even examine it.
    His father was talking to him, his voice again at normal pitch. "I just want you to realize that matters are difficult at present, and more complex than you realized; I do not need arguments with either council over you." Anxious eyes met his.
    Khyriz directed his gaze toward the floor and flattened one ear in token of submission. "Of course, Father. I won't go to the station to greet the outsiders. But"--he hesitated briefly, as if the idea were only just occurring to him--"if I might suggest that we send the pilot you hired for me, Bhelan? He flies into my estate, after all, even in the worst weather. He is one of the best we have."
    "I thought my own pilot--" the Emperor began.
    "But you never travel in adverse weather, Father," Khyriz replied smoothly.
    "And your pilot seldom has reason to leave Arekkhi atmosphere. One doesn't anticipate any problem on the descent from station, but in case ..."
    He only just managed not to hold his breath as the Emperor considered this, then finally gave assent. A moment later, Khyriz had the small chamber