Empress Game: The Empress Game Trilogy Book 1 (32 page)

K
ayla drummed her fingertips against her thigh. She stared out the night-darkened windows of the atrium and forced herself not to pace as she waited for Malkor. One would think that, “I’ll see you in ten,” meant minutes, not half-hours.

She propped a booted foot on the edge of a sill and studied the faces she saw in reflection. The lobby thrummed with activity, people coming and going through the building on their way to or from the million social events taking place that evening. No one paid attention to the woman in the dark gray jumpsuit who had tucked herself into a quiet corner of the atrium and turned her back on the crowd.

Kayla glanced at the atrium’s chronometer in reverse. Where was he? If they were going to meet with the Ilmenans she wanted to get it the frutt over with. Corinth would wake soon. She expected him to call to her when he regained consciousness and she wanted to be close by when he did.

Kayla patted the top hem of her left boot, checking for the fifth time that the pressure syringe full of sedatives she’d stolen from Toble’s equipment was ready to go. She didn’t have many weapon choices in the Game complex. That hadn’t, of course, stopped her from stealing a fork at dinner and tucking it into her right boot. Better than nothing.

She didn’t know what to expect from the Ilmenans, if they even agreed to meet. If it came down to a fight, she’d be ready—as ready as she could be with a fork and a dose of sedatives against four psionics.

Malkor came into view at the other end of the atrium. He caught her eye and nodded back the way he’d come. Kayla adjusted the fit of the fork in her boot and followed him out of the atrium.

“They agreed. Reluctantly,” he said, when she caught up to him in the hallway. “Ready for this?”

Ready? To meet with her people, who considered her a traitor, and who more than likely were traitors themselves? Not at all.

“Listen,” she said. “If this goes to shit—”

He chuckled. “I know, it was my idea.”

“True. Also, take out the smallest male first, he’s the strongest.”

He glanced at her sidelong as they made their way down the corridor. “Expecting things to go that well?”

“We need a game plan. In case.” In case the Ilmenans were the traitors they seemed. In case they let Dolan in on the meeting and the double-dealing bit them in the ass. In case Kayla had to stick a fork in someone for calling her a traitor one more time. “Just be ready.”

Malkor patted the ion pistol at his hip. “Always.” He wore his IDC casuals, black pants, gray T-shirt. Well-worn and practical. He looked tough and confident, able to handle himself in any situation. They navigated busy hallways and crowded magchutes and arrived at the level where Tia’tan and her one allowed attendant, Noar, were housed.

She halted him just short of Tia’tan’s door. “Let me do the talking.”

“I thought your first meeting didn’t go so well.”

“We
might
be able to convince them that I’m here to help my people, not as a traitor. They might not hate me, but you…” There was no nice way to say it. “You’ll always be IDC.”

She saw the words strike him, caught the tightening of his lips in response. She opened her mouth but he chimed the door, and they waited an awkward minute in silence before the panels slid open.

Tia’tan occupied the center of the room, dressed almost identically to Kayla and looking as ready for a fight. Noar stood beside her, his stare locked on Malkor.

“We agreed to meet with her,” he said. “Alone.”

Malkor followed Kayla into the room. “I come with her.”

Noar’s gaze flicked to Kayla. “I bet you do.”

Kayla sized Tia’tan up, judging her stance, her positioning in the room, her mood. Lightning crackled between them as Tia’tan returned the favor. “Where are the others?” Kayla asked.

“Busy,” Tia’tan said. “We decided not to bother them with this.”

Interesting. She’d bet her best daggers the bodyguard would blow a hyperdrive if she knew Tia’tan was meeting with an armed IDC agent. Malkor shifted a step closer to Kayla while still leaving her room to maneuver, if it came to that.

“This place is secure?” she asked Tia’tan.

“A child could reprogram imperial surveillance tech,” Tia’tan said. “Joffar did it in his sleep.”

“Good.”

“Why are you here?” Noar asked, giving Malkor a final look before turning his attention to her. “Your IDC agent insisted it was important.” Noar looked elegant and precisely styled in a scarlet suit with a black shirt, the top button undone. The polished points of silver shoes peeked out from beneath the cuff of his pant legs, and cufflinks of plascrystal caught the light. How strong a psionic was he? If she had her powers still, could she take him?

Unlikely, judging by his ease.

“We came to discuss the offer you made through Dolan.” Kayla’s words were met by blank stares. “For an alliance.”

Noar laughed. “You have to be joking.”

Tia’tan did not look so amused. “You’re spaced if you think we offered any such thing.”

Kayla made eye contact with Malkor, who nodded.

“He was indirect about it,” she said, remembering Malkor’s recount of the discussion, “intimating you would stop interfering in my matches so that I could win the Empress Game, in exchange for an alliance between us.”

“Why would you think for a nanosecond we’d want you to win the Game?” Tia’tan asked.

“Because we want the same thing.”
I hope
. “And I can do it better.”

Malkor coughed, but whether he meant “cool it with the attitude,” or “damn, you’re sassy,” she couldn’t guess.

“Did you mean what you said?” Kayla asked Tia’tan. “In the magchute, you said you’d never help Dolan. That you had your own reasons for being here.”

Tia’tan didn’t answer immediately. In the ensuing silence Kayla felt the weight of a conversation between Tia’tan and Noar. She held her breath on the debate.

“Who are you?” Tia’tan finally asked. “We know you’re Wyrd, and we know Dolan has his theories. We’ve seen your picture, but…”

Now it was Kayla’s turn to silently confer with her partner. Malkor’s expression said “we’re all in now, just do it.” He eased closer, ready, protective almost. The sense of security provoked her out of the cautiousness she’d nurtured for the last five years. She reached up and peeled the biostrip from her throat, letting the hologram die.

“I am Kayla Reinumon, rightful heir of Ordoch.”

The Ilmenans stared. Kayla imagined that Tia’tan relaxed a fraction.

Noar nodded. “Told you.”

“So,” Tia’tan said, “Kayla Reinumon lives.” Her gaze flashed to Malkor. “And she’s working with the IDC.”

Kayla frowned. “It’s complicated. If you’re truly Dolan’s enemy, what are you doing here?”

“We’re here to win the Game,” Tia’tan said.

“I get that.” Kayla focused her attention on Noar. “Why?”

“Why else?” he asked. “To influence the empire from the inside out to free Ordoch.”

“That is our plan as well.”

Tia’tan snorted. “We might believe that if you had enough honor to fight in your own name. Instead you fight as one of them. You’re not trying to win the throne for Ordoch, you want to put one of their own princesses on the throne.”

“Princess Isonde wants freedom for Ordoch as well,” Malkor said.

Noar frowned at him, clearly not pleased to be reminded he was in the room. “So you say.”

“We have only your word to go on as well,” Malkor countered.

Noar’s frown deepened.

“We each have little proof but our word,” Kayla said. “You look to be in league with Dolan, we look to be working purely for the Empire’s interests.” She met Tia’tan’s purple stare. “Appearances are not always truth.”

“What now, then?” Tia’tan asked.

“Now? We work together. We put Isonde on the throne.”

Tia’tan shook her head. “No way.”

Kayla stifled a sigh, tired already and not in the mood for a long argument. “She has more clout among the other council members than you could hope to have. She will fight for Ordoch’s freedom, and has the power to make it happen.”

“We are not without our own leverage.” Tia’tan sounded a touch smug.

What in space did that mean? They couldn’t hope to telepathically influence everyone on the Council of Seven. It wouldn’t be possible, not with Tia’tan being the only psionic in the room and all of the council members on guard against her.

“What could you have that comes anywhere close to matching Isonde’s influence?” Malkor sounded as cautious as she felt.

Tia’tan smiled. “A cure.”

T
he words impacted Kayla with the force of a shockwave. “A cure? For the TNV?”

“It’s not ready yet,” Noar said, giving Tia’tan a look.

“It’s close,” she returned, her grin smug.

“How is that possible?” Kayla asked. The Ordochian scientists refused to produce a cure while under imperial control.

“A group of Ordochians escaped during the attack and fled to Ilmena. They brought samples of the nanovirus with them.”

“But, the pact,” Malkor said. “I thought all of the Wyrd Worlds had a standing interplanetary law forbidding the development and use of nanotechnologies because of the galaxy-wide destruction of the Nanite Wars?”

“The experiments are being very carefully controlled,” Tia’tan said. “Our scientists will not make the same mistakes that yours did, Agent.”

“Our people are dying,” Malkor snapped, taking a step forward. “If you had any decency, you’d turn the cure over now.”

“
Our
people are suffering,” Noar said, unintimidated by Malkor’s aggressive stance. “At the hands of your empire. You have no right to be in Wyrd Space.”

Kayla put a hand on Malkor’s arm, speaking to Tia’tan. “They need the cure.”

“We know,” she said. “And Ordoch needs freedom. We’re willing to bargain.”

“It’s not complete, though?” Stars. But even the thought of being close to a cure…

Noar shook his head.

“So at present you have nothing to bargain with,” Kayla pointed out.

“We will,” Tia’tan said.

Malkor’s forearm flexed beneath Kayla’s grip. She tightened her fingers, sending him a message of support.

“You can’t guarantee that, Tia,” Noar said. “The last round of tests produced unstable nanites that couldn’t be controlled after prolonged contact with the TNV nanites.”

“It was a step in the wrong direction,” Tia’tan replied. “They will reverse the latest programming.”

“How long will that take?” Kayla asked. “Months? Years? And what happens to Ordoch in the meantime?” Isonde was still their best bet, especially if a cure existed. Isonde could push treaty legislation through the councils faster than Tia’tan. Surely the Ilmenans realized that.

::Kayla?:: Corinth’s tired voice reached her, faint at first, then growing stronger. ::Where are you?::

Judging by the looks on their faces, the other Wyrds heard it too.

::Are you all right?::

“Who is that?” Noar asked.

“Corinth Reinumon. My youngest brother and, I suppose, the second heir to Ordoch.”

Noar exchanged a glance with Tia’tan. Tia’tan shook her head but Noar spoke anyway. “That… might not be true.”

Kayla’s hand fell away from Malkor’s arm. “What?”

“Winning the Empress Game is only half of our mission on Falanar.”

Tia’tan made a sound of disgust but Noar continued.

“We’ve received intel over the years from refugees escaping Ordoch that some of the ruling family, your family, might have been captured instead of killed,” Noar said.

Vayne.

But it couldn’t be.

“You think Dolan has them,” Malkor said, a statement, not a question. Who else could it be?

Kayla’s knees threatened to buckle.

Tia’tan nodded. “We don’t know who or how many, but, yes. We think he kidnapped members of the ruling family to…” She glanced at Kayla then refocused on Malkor. “To experiment on. Because they are the strongest psionics on Ordoch.”

“We’re here to rescue them,” Noar said. “The Game offered the only opportunity to visit Imperial Space or we would have come sooner. We will not suffer our people to be at the
kin’shaa
’s mercy any longer.”

The room spun around Kayla. “My parents? Vayne?”

Tia’tan’s voice softened for the first time. “We don’t know. We have only scattered reports of what happened. Enough people claimed to see prisoners being led, alive, to an imperial starcraft that we have to credit the information.”

“We plan to rescue them as soon as the Game’s over,” Noar said.

Vayne. In Dolan’s hands. Her sisters. Her mother. “I will help,” Kayla said. “We don’t—” Tia’tan started.

“I will do it without you, then. Tonight.”

“Kayla—”

She shot Malkor a look when he tried that warning tone on her.

“If you jeopardize the outcome of the Game before one of us can win the throne,” Tia’tan said, “I’ll kill you myself.”

Kayla stared her down, hands fisting at her sides.

Noar turned his attention to Malkor. “Would you be in on the offer of help?”

“No, he’s not.” Tia’tan frowned at Noar.

“It’s important to Kayla. I will be there,
if
you wait until Isonde wins the Empress Game.”

“I will not work with the IDC,” Tia’tan said.

Kayla could guess the gist of their silent argument going on.
He can’t be trusted. But if he could, the IDC’s help offered so many more options. Is it worth the risk?

Finally, Noar turned to Malkor. “We’ll discuss your involvement later.”

Could Vayne truly be alive? If so, how could she wait one more second to rescue him?

Simple—she had no idea where he was, no means to free him, and no means to get him off of the planet and back to Wyrd Space. Allying with the Ilmenans was the only answer.

“We’ll finish this,” Tia’tan said, “after the final series.”

* * *

Kayla lay awake on her bed, staring unseeing into the blackness of her room. She’d turned off every light, shut down every console or panel that could illuminate the weakness of her fledgling hope. In the darkness she let it fly. The possibility that Vayne might still be alive filled the room. The certainty. The desperation.
If any had survived, please let it be him
. To be this close, to learn some of her family might still live and for Vayne not to be among them, would be too much. Hope had raised him from the ashes in her mind—she couldn’t bear his death a second time.