Page 15 of Infiltration

He'd found ironic comfort in serving a prison sentence for his part in bringing Earthers, some unwillingly, to Kalquor a decade before. His incarceration had brought justice to those abducted. Service to others had been Yuder’s mandate throughout his life. The notion had gotten him through the quiet isolation filling his hours in the Galactic Council’s penal colony.

Now he was home, but he had no one to serve. Even Tara needed little of his presence, though her preference for it was a gift he refused to take for granted. She was self-sufficient, however. She had unending projects, between leading her followers and managing Dramok Mereta’s compound while he served as secretary-general of the Galactic Council of Planets. She was hard pressed these days to spend the time she wished to with her grandchildren, especially the eldest, Wayne, who lived at Nobek training camp.

Tara had her own way of doing things, which Yuder could appreciate. It meant his offers of assistance were often gently, lovingly declined. Not because he couldn’t learn her procedures, but because she simply couldn’t spare an hour to teach him how she wanted tasks done.

He didn’t really prefer to help run spiritual centers, if he were honest about it, but he was banned from the responsibilities he was most suited for. It was out of the question for him to stick his nose in Imperial business. The life he’d once lived and breathed, running an empire, was off limits.

When Yuder and his clanmates Zarl and Tidro had conceded the throne to Clan Clajak, he’d been consulted for advice on the problems the empire faced. Now, he couldn’t even ask his son for his opinion of any legislation currently being publicly debated in the Royal Council.

There was nothing for Yuder, and he was quickly becoming certain he was nothing himself. Old and out of his element in this well-earned peaceful phase of the Kalquorian Empire, he was adrift. He had no direction to go.

Why am I still here?

The thought startled him, and he realized he’d been staring at the sea. He had no idea how long he’d done so. Abruptly grouchy at his morose turn of mood, he turned on his bare heel and set off for the cliff housing the Royal Home.

He was aware of the pair of red-armored Royal Guards silently following him. How ridiculous did he appear to his protective escorts, this relic of a Nobek in his loose white trousers and thigh-length tunic? Once he’d have been in armor of his own, black with red trim, as tough as those assigned to protect him. He was tempted to look at his fellow Nobeks, to see if disdain filled their fierce faces. But no, Royal Guards wore no expressions while on duty but that of deadly threat. Whatever scorn they might feel for their charge would be hidden.

A figure several yards away in the direction he headed waved. Yuder squinted as one of his guards quickened his pace to precede him. After a moment, he recognized the Dramok hurrying forward.

“It’s Councilman Oiteil. He’s an old associate,” Yuder called to the guard.

“Councilman?” The guard eyed Yuder. His expression was impassive.

“A friend.” Untrue. Oiteil was no more than an acquaintance, but Yuder was eager to speak to him.

He had no idea if the Royal Guards had been warned by Clajak to keep political figures from him. Discussing empire business with a sitting councilman would be in breach of Yuder’s parole. Apparently his son hadn’t issued such orders, because his bodyguards said nothing to warn Oiteil off. They allowed Yuder to pull slightly ahead to greet the smiling councilman.

“Imperial Father,” Oiteil called as he neared them. He spared no glance for the guards. For someone who’d been on the council as long as he had, Royal Guards were merely part of the furniture. “I’m glad to see you in public.”

“I was supposed to com you,” Yuder remembered. “My apologies for not having done so.”

“No doubt you’ve been settling in, spending time among family. How is it going?” Oiteil’s smile creased his face pleasantly. The sunlight turned his gray hairs to silver, matching Yuder’s steel-sheened mane.

“It’s…peaceful.”

“The bane of a Nobek,” Oiteil chuckled.

Yuder joined in. Remembering the recent loss of his companion’s clanmates, he asked “What of you? How are you these days?”

“Lonely. Desperately filling my hours with work. I guess I’m lucky that way.” Oiteil glanced at Yuder. “I can’t imagine how difficult it is for you.”

It was beneath Yuder to complain about his lot, but he acknowledged, “Too much free time is as bad as not having enough.” For a Nobek, it was worse.

“I sympathize. I also find it frustrating. I wish you weren’t prohibited from public service. We’re in dire need of your vast knowledge and experience.”

Yuder regarded him in surprise. “We’ve not known such peace and prosperity in my recollection.”

“On the surface, yes. Bi’is is conquered. Even the Tragooms haven’t tried our borders in a couple of years. I have concerns, however. There are tensions simmering beneath our well-earned calm, Imperial Father. Most would prefer to ignore them, but elder statesmen such as you and I have seen far too often how small concerns become major challenges.”

Yuder opened his mouth, then closed it. The conversation was hedging into areas he had no business involving himself in.

The corner of Oiteil’s mouth twitched, as if Yuder had given him a signal. “So many matters of potential disturbance. The majority of our people agree the legal inclusion of Earther men in clans and the other changes to what constitutes lawful unions in the government’s eye are worthwhile. However, there are those most adamantly opposed to nontraditional joinings. A single man to a woman has become any number of men legally committed to any number of women. Pairings, clans, and houses…it’s become quite the labyrinth in legal settings.

“Then you have the new Earth. Already there are rumblings from those called ‘Earthtiques’ who show a devotion to the isolationism which made their society such a nightmare…not only to their own citizens, but to the galaxy at large. I heard the governor’s shuttle was sabotaged, though it’s being kept quiet. What isn’t a secret is protestors showed up at the celebration welcoming the first colonists. Our Imperial Clan was present. Did Emperor Clajak mention it to you? No, don’t answer. As long as you don’t speak, no one can accuse you of involvement.” Oiteil glanced at the Royal Guards. Yuder fancied he saw derision in his companion’s expression.

Clajak hadn’t mentioned the protest. It had been splashed on the news vids, however, which Yuder had had limited access to on the prison colony. The demonstration hadn’t seemed large, and it had been obvious the security detail had experienced little trouble managing it.

As Oiteil had mentioned, however, small disputes occasionally blew up into major explosions. Kalquor’s own civil war had begun when a few Royal Council members had staged a walkout.

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