The Malign Paradox: The Malign Universe Series, #3

By Penn Adams

In this, the third book of the Malign Series, it is twenty-five years after the events of The Malign Legacy and its predecessor, The Malign Alliance, and the royal Genara family and the Galactic Union face new threats - both personally and politically.

The Caerul, humanoid aliens from a dying world, are ruthless in their aim to conquer far-flung Dasnir and the Union's crack fighters, including the impetuous Viveen Genara and her rival, Jikaal Dokau, must put their animosity aside and rush to the planet's aid.

Working behind the scenes to infiltrate the aliens' thoughts is young Edalie Min, Viveen's cousin, a gifted telepath. If she and other mentantes, including her grandmother, Linnayen Genara, can take control of the vicious Caerul, they stand a chance of destroying them for good. There's only one problem. An alien captive, Lorric bed'Eirath, a man she should despise, makes her heart race and question everything she holds dear.

On the Genara home planet, Altan, a rival for dominion over the union has arisen. A devious councillor, Shodin Dacas, plots the downfall of Linnayen and her faithful husband, Jax, forcing them to divide in order to conquer. Let the battles begin.

The Malign Paradox is the third of the 'Malign' series, following from The Malign Legacy and The Malign Alliance. It is approximately 116300 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Penn Adams
• Release date: Apr 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9780648808046

Penn Adams

Penn Adams is originally from London where she worked on two national newspapers and a women’s magazine before going to London University to study geography.  She left the UK in 1989 to backpack around the world and ended up staying in Australia.  Here, Penn worked in conservation and not-for-profit organisations, all the while writing – both commercially and for fun.  She trained as a teacher in 2008 and now lives in the paradise land of northern New South Wales encircled by rainforests, beaches and the glorious Pacific Ocean.

Book preview

For my mother

The Genara family

LINNAYEN : Now 76 years old, Linnayen is the Ki of Altan, the titular head of the Galactic Union, a position she was trained for from birth. She became the Ki on the death of her father, Yenshar, shortly after her twenty-first birthday. She is typical of her family in having the telepathic gift of mentantism.

KEVOR ‘JAX’: Linnayen’s husband, originally from Earth, Jax, now 77, is the only son of David and Thea Bashir, an important political family. His marriage to Linnayen was arranged and although they are devoted to each other now, theirs was a rocky path to love due to the connivance of the Navarr twins, Durroc and Balisel.

LI-EL DACAS: Linnayen and Evica’s elderly mother and widow of the former Ki of Altan, Yenshar Genara. Li-el is now 103 years old and although her mind is failing, she is still a powerful mentante.

EVICA: Linnayen’s older sister, she fell in love with Tariik Min, a Dasnirian soldier. She has lived quietly with Tariik for fifty years running their farm on Dasnir. They have one son, Yudar, who is father to twin boys, Ota and Redni.

SETIYAN: Linnayen’s oldest daughter, born from the rape of Linnayen by Durroc Navarr. Setiyan, now working as an ambassador on Earth, is married to Captain Decker Finn and is Viveen and Pieter’s mother.

CALIN: Edalie’s mother and Linnayen’s younger daughter. Calin is now in her early fifties and is a well-respected council member. She is married to Falvii Min, who is the son of Tariik’s brother, Odar.

EDALIE: Calin and Falvii’s daughter. Edalie (24) is a gifted mentante and is furthering her research in clinical psychology at the university of Piquaria.

VIVEEN: Setiyan and Decker Finn’s daughter. Viveen (25) is a first-class space-fighter pilot. She is outspoken and a little headstrong – just like her mother – but loyal to the core.

PIETER: Setiyan and Decker’s son, Viveen’s brother. Pieter (23) is a polymath with interests in politics and history. He is a gifted strategist.

CHAPTER ONE

Deep down in the Laedli Abyss, where the water was cold and black and motionless, an underwater cavern stretched for over a hundred kliks. In places its roof was two hundred metres high, reaching up into a seemingly endless void. In others only a handspan separated the base from the ceiling, and not even a curious kliipa fish could squeeze through. It was one of the most inaccessible and, therefore, unexplored depths of Dasnir, and it had a fearsome reputation among the locals as being a good place to die. Any journey navigating its waters was not taken lightly, and this frisson of danger made it all the more attractive to the hardy few who could not resist the lure of extreme tourism.

So when the nose of the submersible pushed through the murk, delicately feeling its way past reefs and stirring up grains of sand into angry whorls as it went, the heartrates of its occupants were necessarily elevated. Their eyes were fixed on the passing spectacle of waterscapes they could only ever have imagined before today, and they did not see the disturbance their passage caused. Through the portholes, they observed only the blue-green fronds of giant pela seagrass waving sinuously and the darting gait of tumna molluscs startled by the sudden bright spotlights. They marvelled at the goggle-eyed til-tak fish, its golden orbs gawking back at them, and the comical scurrying walk of the pokka worm as it dug its way into the safety of the sandy bottom.

Ota and Redni Min gazed at the ever-changing spectacle, their eyes wide with wonder and their mouths fixed in permanent grins. This had been worth all the arguing with their grandparents and, without doubt, was the best adventure they had ever experienced.

‘I knew this would be amazing.’ Redni laughed and patted his brother on the back.

Ota nodded happily. ‘I’d love to get out there, eh?’

‘You’d be crushed to a pulp at this depth.’ This was the tour leader, Ilfrec, a wizened old man whose folds of skin were crusted with a fine dusting of salt. ‘It’s only the pressure we’re exerting on our inner hull that’s stopping us from being squashed as flat as that sand-scraper over there.’ He pointed to a huge flat brown fish that skimmed a few centimetres over the seabed ahead of them.

The boys looked at each other and each took a deep breath. There were dangers to this trip, of course. But they’d managed to persuade their father, Yudar, and their grandparents, Evica and Tariik Min, that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with a tour company renowned for its safety.

‘Besides,’ Ota had argued, passing a dish of battered roe to his brother at the dining table only two nights ago, ‘we should be supporting local enterprise, and these people are homeworlders. They’re just trying to make a living.’

‘Since when have you cared about economics?’ his grandfather, Tariik, spluttered.

‘Since they finished their studies and wanted to let off some steam,’ his grandmother, Evica, concluded. She had patted her husband’s hand affectionately. The twin brothers were eighteen and already signed up to begin their military training on Altan in a month’s time. ‘I was the same at that age. I remember fall-flying the rapids on Hutho with my sister. Not exactly a safe sport.’

Tariik, his once black hair now light blue with age, harumphed. ‘That’s different. You were ...’ He looked deep into his wife’s green eyes and shook his head before raising an appreciative eyebrow. ‘Quite a woman.’

The boys had looked knowingly at each other. Here they go again. It was so embarrassing the way Pop and Gran would get all mushy with each other.

‘Even so,’ Tariik continued, ‘deep-diving in the abyss ... It’s not safe. There’ve been accidents.’

‘Your grandfather is right. Too many have gone down to Laedli and not returned,’ Evica had added, shaking her head.

‘But Gran-ma, that was years ago,’ Ota insisted. ‘It’s different now. Show her, Redni.’

With a touch of a button on Redni’s wristband, a projection filled the space above the centre of the table and the room filled with pounding music and expansive images of the deep-water delights. A female voice spoke of the wonders to be found in the famous Laedli Abyss, a must for all thrill-seekers, an unsurpassable journey of adventure.

‘The tour only goes to the first few caverns, the ones that’ve been charted already. That’s really safe. And the guide’s been there many times. He knows the passages. He says the caverns are amazing – filled with thousands of peronite crystals and salt opals. Maybe I can bring one back for you, Gran.’ His grin spread across his face as he looked to his brother for confirmation.

‘It’s true. They take groups all the time,’ Redni joined in. ‘Look. Let me show you the spec –’

Tariik Min’s fist hit the table. The plates and glasses bounced and Evica reached out a hand to save her fork from hitting the floor.

‘It’s not safe! So thousands of tourists,’ Tariik had spat the word out, ‘have visited it in the last five years. One party of ten never returned – their bodies never found. And twice subs have had breakdowns and the people had to be rescued. It’s too dangerous. You cannot go.’

Tariik’s strong frame may have been hunched from decades of farming the protein-rich srif seagrass that carpeted the Carissian Basin, but the former soldier was still a formidable force. It took a brave heart to stand up to his ire.

‘Sorry, Poppa. Dad said we could and we’ve booked. Day after tomorrow.’

Tariik had glared at Ota, then Redni, who nodded his confirmation with a shrug of his bony shoulders.

‘We’ll be fine ... Really. Don’t worry.’

Thinking back on that conversation now, though, the boys were having second thoughts. Their hearts were definitely beating faster, adrenalin flowing. But Ilfrec’s words were reassuring, as was his hearty laugh.

‘We’ll get you home, young sirs – fully inflated!’ The old mariner turned away, his body shaking with laughter.

‘Bet he’s used that joke before,’ Redni groaned.

‘Your ego’s inflated enough, little brother.’ Ota’s grin was infectious, but it did not stop Redni elbowing him in the ribs.

‘You’re the one who thinks you’re so special.’

‘Well, I am the favoured great-nephew of Aunt Linnayen, being the older,’ Ota asserted.

‘By two minutes!’

Their banter was suddenly interrupted by Ilfrec’s exclamation of surprise. What new wonder could he see through the pilot’s forward screen? The boys craned their necks to see.

‘By all the gods ...’ Ilfrec’s words petered out as he and the pilot gazed wide-eyed at the scene before them.

Ota and Redni got up from their seats and looked over the old man’s shoulder, their brows furrowing as they tried to take in what was right in front of their eyes.

‘What is it?’ Ota asked to anyone who could enlighten him.

‘M-maybe we should leave?’ Redni offered hesitantly.

A dark fuzzy shape lay no more than five hundred metres ahead. Its surface appeared to be pitted with spikes and antennae, making it resemble a nasu urchin, though a hundred times bigger. Could any marine animal be that big and be unknown? Redni very much doubted it, and Ilfrec’s look of shock and confusion supported that theory.

The spotlights of the submersible were reflected back in places, presumably by smoother, more polished areas on the massive black hull. But to the boys and crew on the sub, the craft – if that’s what it was – appeared lifeless. No lights shone from within, and no currents stirred around its base.

‘Has there been any report of this?’ Ilfrec asked the pilot, Captain Luja, a middle-aged woman with over two decades of underwater exploration and experience.

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. I’ll call base.’

She immediately began speaking to the company’s office back up on the surface, some five kliks above them. Ota and Redni watched as she nodded her head in response to the orders she was being given and they listened eagerly. There had been no word of wrecks or submersible accidents. They were to log the location and come back to base at once. Seaforce’s emergency services would investigate.

‘That settles it,’ Luja said over her shoulder. ‘We’re going home.’

Ota’s shoulders slumped. ‘Couldn’t we just get a little closer? If it’s a sub, there might be people on board.’

Ilfrec gestured for him to return to his seat and strap in. ‘Even if there are, young sir, we can’t help them. We’re not equipped.’

Redni nudged his brother’s arm. ‘He’s right. There’s nothing we can do.’

The look in his eyes said it all. Redni wanted to go home, and if Ota was being honest with himself, he felt the same. He couldn’t explain it but his stomach had tensed and a feeling of unease had crept into the entire confined atmosphere. Surely the strange object should not be there, so far down in the deep? Ota could not think of any craft that big capable of such a dive.

No one spoke as Captain Luja swung the bow ninety degrees away from the dark vessel and began a slow ascent.

They had not risen two hundred metres when the black water below them was illuminated by a blinding beam of light. It was focused on the very same spot where they had sat not two minutes earlier. Like a blind man’s fingers feeling in the dark, it poked and prodded the dark water, as if in frantic search for what had just been there.

Lorric bed’Eirath clenched his fist against his chin and tried not to scream out loud. Curse all the spirits and yinha for his bad luck! Then curse all the scientists and engineers for this wreck of a spaceship. This was meant to be a clandestine arrival to the water planet. Had they not cloaked the Nomhoye deliberately, suffering a great drain on their power reserves to do so, purely so they would go unnoticed by the pitiful inhabitants of this remote region of space? Yet here they were, with barely enough power to run the life support systems. All because of the failure of the syna-gyro to keep them in orbit, or rather the failure of the engineers to have supplied the ship with a spare. And then, when the akasium core disintegrated and the fuel leak could not be stopped, their fate was sealed. Once he knew they were being drawn down to the planet’s surface, he’d had just enough time to send a distress call to Qatila. But she was a day away at the very least. The Nomhoye had been sucked inexorably beneath the water towards one of the blue world’s deepest marine trenches, and it would be stuck there until his sister arrived on the Pirahoye to tract him back into space.

He stared at the command panel in front of him. The initial scan showed that they had come to rest some three thousand geiras below the surface, but he was reassured that the hull was holding up well – as it should – and they had suffered no external damage during their descent.

He decided to increase the range of their sensors, if only to get a clearer idea of the topography of the basin into which the ship had sunk. Apparently, they were on an abyssal plain, and Lorric was relieved to find that their sensors could detect no tectonic unrest in the immediate area. They would be safe here for now. But it didn’t hurt to see what else was out there. He gave the order to a junior officer who came to attention.

‘At once, captain.’ Her voice was atonal, hiding any contempt she might have felt.

The officer’s fingers travelled rapidly over the console, stopping suddenly, then moving on, then stopping again.

‘This might be ... Ah, no. Nothing.’

Lorric turned and glared at her. ‘What?’

‘A blip. Probably an animal. It’s gone now.’

‘Scan again. Give me visuals.’

On the screen in front of him, Lorric peered into the darkness. Millions of tiny creatures danced and whirled in the beam of their lights and occasional flashes of silvery scales flicked into view. But nothing more substantial.

The Caerulian captain sighed and rubbed his chin, his fingertips scratched by the dark two-day-old stubble. ‘Keep scanning. We’re hidden for now – and I want it to stay that way. Hear me?’

‘Aye, captain.’

Lorric left the bridge and headed for his quarters, swearing under his breath. He had not particularly wanted to come on this mission. In fact, he’d had a bad feeling about it all along. But Qatila was adamant. House Eirath would play its part in saving their people. Who better to do so than a family with a history of space exploration and with warriors and pioneers stretching back for centuries? They could not leave such an important mission to the likes of House Lvac and certainly not House Makz; both were far inferior to the Eirath, for all their upstart ways.

‘Let them explore elsewhere,’ Qatila had said. ‘We will find a new homeworld and we will rightly reap the praises of all Caeru!’

And she was right. After only a year of roaming this corner of the whirling spiral galaxy they had discovered the blue world, a perfect sphere of more water than Lorric had dreamed possible. If only his home planet of Caeru could have even a quarter this much water then they would never have to leave. But circumstance and time had forged a deadly bond, giving his people a mere four or five hundred years – if they were lucky – before the planet’s ecosystems would fail and its meagre resources be completely exhausted, and only a handful of decades before life became impossible. Already the lands had dried as the rotation of their world slowed, and the winds had reduced to mere breezes that brought no life-giving moisture. Though Lorric had never experienced the phenomena of seasons in his twenty-seven years, he had been told of the time when rains came in spring and frosts in winter. Seasons – once so reliable and ever-changing – had now extended into years. No rain, no crops, no living thing could exist on a planet that itself had ceased to live. The scientists said that the fire at its core was almost spent and it could never be replenished, for they did not know how. It was imperative that a new homeworld be found for all their people. If he and his sister could be their saviours then House Eirath would reign supreme.

They had studied the blue world from afar, examined its people and deciphered their language. They had monitored its movement in the heavens, analysed its climate and scanned its natural resources. As if water was not enough, it was also endowed with land on which to build new settlements, though Lorric wished there could have been more of this precious resource. The Caerul had been farmers many eons ago, and undoubtedly they would have to resurrect those ancient skills if they were to survive in this new home. The existing inhabitants of the blue world would, of course, be enslaved to produce food for them – this was what Qatila had proposed and the council of Qurarks had agreed.

‘Daughter of House Eirath, you have done well,’ Paka bed’Askan, the leader of the Qurarks, had said before the whole gathering in the great Hall of Iu’Gienak, and Lorric saw his sister’s breast swell with pride. ‘You will save us. All Caeru salutes you! All hail Qatila bed’Eirath!’

The chant had been taken up by the House Elders and many had stepped forward to lay hands on his sister’s shoulders as she knelt below the steps of the high altar. A few of the lower-ranking houses paid homage with tight smiles and steely eyes, but Qatila had ignored their slights. House Eirath was in the ascendancy, and once the domination of the blue world was complete, none would challenge their supremacy. None would dare!

Lorric lay down on his bunk. This was meant to be a final reconnoitre of the blue world ahead of Qatila’s fleet, a final check that they would meet no resistance. They had discovered the people of the planet were space travellers, noting the arrival and departure of various spacecraft, but none of these were battleships. Indeed, they had not detected any superior weapons on either airborne craft or land-based facilities. And the vessels that came and went from what appeared to be the only spacedock on the whole planet? Qatila’s people had tracked them to planets distant enough to be inconsequential to their mission. By the time any help might arrive to the blue world’s people, they would be in complete control. All augured well for the coming of the Caerul.

As he drifted into a fitful sleep, Lorric consoled himself that he had at least managed to get a message to Qatila of the Nomhoye’s disastrous descent into the unexpectedly deep waters of this ocean. Now it was just a matter of waiting.

Shodin Dacas lifted his heavy frame out of the large calfskin chair and pushed it back towards the wide window comprising one wall of his office in the Dansu Tower. He did not turn to see the array of tall buildings and spires of Silbaraz-Re freshly glinting in the morning sunshine, their silhouettes framed by the lush deep green of the Ksas foothills in the distance. Instead, he walked straight to the middle of the room and planted his feet firmly in the weave of the expensive royal blue carpet, a birthday gift from his father-in-law on Earth.

He looked down at his chest and frowned, then quickly smoothed a crease in his white tunic. It was, he well knew, ridiculous to feel nervous at the coming meeting – so unlike him, too. If anything, he was known to enjoy an overabundance of confidence. In business and in the Galactic Union council chambers he was feted, and he enjoyed – or was it endured? – the attentions of many well-wishers and sycophants. He was used to being the centre of attention, the man whose opinion counted for something.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He was ready to receive his visitors.

The doors slid apart, outlining the slender frames of the seventy-six-year-old Ki Linnayen, and her husband, Kevor Jax, the Ki-consort.

‘Welcome, my lady. Welcome indeed. And to you too, my lord. Come in, come in.’ Dacas gestured to some black velvet upholstered chairs and a low couch at the side of the room. ‘You are most welcome. Please, sit down. Make yourselves comfortable. I have some refreshments coming shortly. But in the meantime, rest ...’

The old woman’s green eyes looked up at him as she seated herself on the first of the chairs. He noted the lift of one of her eyebrows. Was that scepticism? Or appreciation? Her husband sat on the couch and patted the fabric appreciatively. Dacas was glad now that he had ordered the quality furniture be brought up from storage. Impressions counted for so much his wife, Berenike, had insisted, and she was right. He needed these people to think only the best of him and his intentions, for that would make everything so much easier.

‘Thank you, Shodin. But please don’t go to any trouble on our account.’

The woman’s voice was still strong and rich. He had to admit that she commanded respect, and rightly so after all these years of service. Linnayen Genara had been the Ki of Altan and head of the Galactic Union Council for over fifty years, having inherited the position from her powerful father, Yenshar Genara, who was Shodin’s own great-uncle by marriage.

‘Not at all. It’s my pleasure. You’ve had a long journey.’

‘Hutho’s only a couple of days away now, though,’ Kevor Jax commented, ‘and we’ve had a wonderful break.’

‘That’s good to hear. The lodge is a favourite of mine, too.’

Dacas recalled the Cadal-baran Lodge on the banks of the Utieku River on the planet Hutho. Strictly speaking, the holiday home was the property of the Genara family, but his great-aunt, Li-el Dacas, Yenshar Genara’s wife, had taken him there a couple of times when he was younger. He had been fresh out of university then, a mere twenty-two years old and a graduate with the highest honours in political science. Great-aunt Li-el offered him the trip as a reward for all his hard work and he had happily accepted. The chance to fall-fly the stunning waterfalls of the mighty river was temptation enough, and he did not need to keep his ageing great-aunt company. She was in her seventies then and had expressly told him to amuse himself, which he did, mostly in the pleasure halls of Tokuroc town. He smiled, recalling the deftness and amenability of the Huthon women who were always so happy to give whatever physical delight they could. There was one – what was her name now? Lor something ... Loriti, that was it. She had not been as accommodating as she should – until he made her, of course. And what pleasure that had brought!

‘I didn’t know you’d been.’ Linnayen’s voice broke his reverie.

‘Yes. Your mother took me, oh, thirty years ago now.’ He joined Jax on the couch before continuing. ‘How is my great-aunt?’

Linnayen’s smile was fleeting. ‘Surviving. But, as you must know, her health is not good these days.’

‘Indeed. One hundred and two years. Quite a span.’ Dacas nodded sagely.

‘But still aware of the world around her, I’m pleased to say.’

‘My mother-in-law is a force of nature. Don’t be surprised if she outlives us all.’ The Ki-consort smiled at his wife as he reached out a hand.

The gesture was not lost on Dacas. He had seen them like this many times at meetings in the council hall. But that was as it should be, he reflected. Was he not equally devoted to Berenike? A strong marriage was a necessity in the lofty echelons of the ruling families. It brought connections and strength and, most important of all, kudos. His own marriage, though only five years long, was a masterstroke. His three earlier wives, though all very beautiful, had proved to be thankless mistakes born of his youth and vanity. But Berenike’s wealthy Earthan family included former presidents and magnates, many of whom had made it to the top quite legitimately. She too was the head of a vast finance corporation and had the ear of every supremo in all the Earthan republics. If only he’d met her twenty years earlier then all this would have been so much easier. He would have already become the Ki.

‘Well, I intend to live a little longer, sir. As I hope do you.’ Dacas’s laugh was curtailed by the arrival of a servant carrying a tray of drinks. ‘Ah! Now then. What can I offer you? A cordial? Perhaps a Scottish whisky? I’ve a particularly fine malt here from –’

‘No, thank you, cousin.’ Linnayen brushed away his generosity. ‘Not for me. Though my husband ...’

The Ki-consort’s eyes widened in an effort to read the label on the bottle of amber fluid. ‘It would be rude to refuse.’ Jax shrugged his shoulders as if to say he was helpless in situations like these.

Dacas poured the drink into a crystal-cut tumbler and went to add ice.

‘No ice, thank you,’ Jax cautioned.

‘You must forgive him, Shodin. My husband is an adopted Scot from his friendship with Duncan McCrae. You remember him?

‘Ah, yes. A fine actor. An accident, I recall?’ Shodin wondered how much longer the small talk would have to continue.

‘Yes, in the Andean peaks,’ Jax supplied. ‘His lover was an expert climber. Sadly, Duncan was not. We still miss him, always will.’

Linnayen smiled and shook her head. ‘He brought much light to our lives. And he and my husband enjoyed their whisky.’

‘Duncan would say it may not be a crime to add ice, but it is sacrilegious.’ Jax smiled broadly at the younger man as he accepted the glass. ‘Now then, tell us why you asked us to come.’

Dacas raised an eyebrow. ‘Straight to the point. I like that.’

Neither Jax nor the Ki spoke, waiting for Dacas to fill the silence.

Dacas cleared his throat. ‘Well, I have a proposal. I don’t want any answers or comment today, but I want you to think it over.’ He took a sip of his own drink, a tall glass of Mayaran mead garnished with a sprig of mint. ‘You see, it’s been on my mind for a while now that we need to discuss the succession.’

‘We have discussed it – in council,’ Linnayen broke in. ‘You were there.’

‘Yes, of course. I mean, in more detail.’ Here goes. He stretched out his chin. ‘Are you sure that your daughter Calin truly wants to govern after you? Either of your daughters, come to that. It seems to me that Setiyan is settled in her role as the Earthan ambassador, and Calin spends so much time on Dasnir that she has lost touch with –’

‘Let me stop you there.’ Jax placed the half-full tumbler on the low table in front of them. ‘Shodin, these are matters that should rightly be raised in the council chamber, not privately between us. You know that.’

‘With respect, no one dare raise it for fear of offending you, my lady, my lord. How can we speak of such things without our feelings coming into play? You have known me all my life. You know you can trust me, and I’m only giving voice to comments made by others, people who do not have your – our family’s best interests at heart. Would you rather the rumours spread?’

‘What rumours?’ the old woman snapped, pulling herself upright in the chair. ‘Exactly what are people saying?’

Dacas sighed and pursed his lips. ‘That it’s time for you to retire.’

‘Well, I know that. They’ve been saying that for years. And I will – when I’m ready.’

‘And that it is time to vote for a new Ki. That you should not use your privilege of heredity descent. Even if the Lady Calin is an honourable person and well-trained in statecraft, the title should not pass automatically to her.’ Dacas looked across to Linnayen, his eyes full of sadness. He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘I’m so sorry. But this is the mood of the council members.’

‘Not all of them,’ objected Jax.

‘True. But many have spoken.’

‘To you?’ Linnayen asked.

‘And among themselves.’

Linnayen looked ruefully at her husband and exhaled loudly, as if she found the subject tedious. Or did she think it beneath her?

He pushed on. ‘As you know, the council does have the right to call an election. It is in the constitution.’ Dacas thought he’d brought just enough gravitas tinged with sorrow to his voice.

‘Don’t lecture me on the constitution! I know every word of it.’

Linnayen stood without need of the chair’s armrests. Dacas was surprised at her sprightliness.

‘Shodin, you’ve brought this to my attention, though you’re the first of the councillors to do so directly.’ Her mouth was a tight line as she spoke. ‘I shall give it my consideration; I promise you that.’

‘Thank you, my lady. I believe that is all we can ask.’

Linnayen made for the door, her back straight, chin held high. Jax raised himself from the couch and took a last gulp of his whisky before handing the empty glass to Dacas.

‘You might want to import a fine Irish whiskey, too. I’ve found it’s always advisable to have a choice.’

The inference was not lost on Dacas, who smiled thinly. Yes. Choice. And I’ve made mine.

He bowed as low as he felt adequate under the circumstances as the royal pair left the room. The play had begun in earnest now. He hurried to his desk to place a call to his wife. Berenike would be pleased to know that the first stage of their plan had gone well.

Evica and Tariik Min were waiting for the boys as they disembarked from the deep-dive submersible. Though they had assured their grandparents that they would be fine to catch a windshifter home under their own steam, Evica would have none of it, and if he was being honest, Tariik did not feel comfortable with that plan either. They were the guardians of the boys – at least until their son, Yudar, the twins’ father, came home from Earth – and they took their duties seriously. In truth, they had not wanted the boys to go on this ridiculously dangerous trip, anyway. But their father had been persuaded, and who were they to countermand his orders?

Tariik paced the steel platform that hung under the roof of the dock as they waited for the sub to emerge from the water. He saw that Evica’s knuckles were white as they gripped the metal railings, her eyes never leaving the water’s surface for even a second.

‘Here they are,’ she suddenly called. ‘Tariik!’

‘I see!’

An unfocused blur gradually took shape as the vessel’s lights cut through the murk and finally broke the surface of the grey water. He exhaled a long sigh of relief, brow smoothing under his pale blue fringe as his shoulders relaxed. Evica looked up into his dark eyes and smiled; it was a look of triumph, just like the one she had given him all those years ago when she had bested him on the training ground. They had fallen in love over spears and laser swords when he had been tasked with improving her combat skills. Not that she had needed much instruction. She was quick to learn and equally quick to capture his heart, and she was still so beautiful. Though the fiery red of her hair had dulled to a honeyed gold and fine lines now crossed her pale skin, she was still his beloved.

He took her arm and led her down the steel-mesh ramp leading to the edge of the dock. People were not normally allowed this privilege, but no one at the tour company was game to challenge Tariik Min and Lady Evica, elder sister to the Ki of Altan. Indeed, it was a coup to have gained the patronage of their grandsons, a fact not lost on one of their public relations staff now rushing to escort them.

‘My lady, allow me.’ The young man’s dark hair flopped into his eyes as he offered Evica his arm. But Tariik could see he meant well. He supposed that at his age, nearly eighty now, younger men might think him too old to look after his own wife. Was it a sign of coming to terms with ageing that he felt reassured instead of insulted?

Evica took the proffered arm. ‘Thank you. Most kind.’ She smiled over her shoulder at Tariik and raised an eyebrow.

Ha! Did she think she could still charm a young smolt like that? He laughed and shook his head.

Just then, the top hatch of the submersible opened with a hiss of air, and Tariik heard the unmistakeable whoops of joy from his grandsons. Such vitality – it brought happiness to them all. Within a minute they had disembarked and dashed over to meet them.

‘Gran-ma! Poppa! You should see it!’ Ota could not contain himself. His shouts echoed across the enclosed dock.

‘It was bloody amazing!’ Redni waved wildly to them. ‘You have to do this for yourself. You’d love it!’

Tariik caught Evica’s sceptical look. After all these years, it was easy to know what she was thinking. She may have spent most of her life on Dasnir, had even lived under its watery surface for a couple of decades, but she was never entirely comfortable below the sea. Evica was Altani and far more at home with the fields, forests and mountains of her homeworld.

‘So you had a good time?’ she asked as Ota ran up and kissed her cheek.

‘The best! I still can’t believe the things we saw.’

Redni caught up. ‘No, but there was something else. Something odd ...’

‘Yeah, we saw this thing –’

‘It was so weird.’

‘Whoa! Slow down. Take a breath,’ Tariik laughed. ‘What thing?’

‘That’s just it. We don’t know. And neither does Ilfrec.’ Ota began to tell them of the strange object they’d spotted in the depths of the abyss. ‘Pretty sure it wasn’t an animal.’

‘And it was so big. I mean ... If it was an animal, you would have heard about it, Poppa. I’m sure you would.’ Redni nodded confidently. ‘There’d be folktales and stories ...’

‘Hang on, boys. Who’s Ilfrec?’ However much Tariik was intrigued