“I don’t know, should you?” he returns my question. His expression is unreadable. “Do you want to hide behind me, or do you want to stand up for yourself?”
“I’m not going to rely on you for anything, Kyon.”
“Then, by all means, you should answer it. Tell Oscil to accept the transmission.” He temples his hands again, looking at me in challenge.
I lean back in Kyon’s enormous chair and try to adopt a serene mien. Lifting my chin, I murmur, “Oscil, accept the transmission.”
Like some retro mission control, Oscil responds, “Transmission accepted.”
CHAPTER 4
NO SHADE IN THE SHADOWS
Between Kyon and me, a holographic image of a handsome blond man takes shape. Excelsior’s resemblance to Kyon is, in a word, ridiculous. Although Kyon’s forty-something-looking father has a different hairstyle, which is short, blond, and severe, there’s no doubt in my mind what Kyon will look like when he’s that age—that is, if Excelsior somehow lets him live that long. The leader’s shiny eyes, made from blue light, hood in reaction to his seeing me in the seat behind Kyon’s desk.
“Where is my son?” His stern voice has a similar resonance to Kyon’s.
I try to play it cool. “Greetings, Excelsior. Lovely day. Are you enjoying the warm sea air?”
Excelsior barks, “I will ask you again, where is he?”
I shrug, trying not to seem afraid. “I think he went to get a snack.” I gesture with my thumb. “Is there something I can do for you instead?” I ask innocently. Glancing at Kyon, I see a grudging smile developing on his lips.
Excelsior growls, “Kricket.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Excelsior.”
“So you know who I am?”
“I’ve heard of you.”
“From Kyon?”
“No. He has hardly spoken of you. I don’t think he likes you very much,” I whisper conspiratorially.
“Get him. Now!” he roars.
“No. I don’t think I will,” I state calmly. I hold out my hand, studying my fingernails, as if I don’t have a care in the world.
The silence stretches on for a few long breaths, before Excelsior says, “You do look exactly like your mother . . . except for your eyes. Violet.”
My eyes shift back to his once more. “And you look like Kyon.”
He frowns. “He looks like me. It’s why he isn’t dead.”
“He was saved by your narcissism then? I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that.”
“He was saved by the fact that I know he’s mine,” he replies. What he says is true, but at the same time it isn’t. His answer makes me pause in confusion.
“There’s always a paternity test,” I mutter. “No need for doubt.”
“One can’t always believe those. Too many bleeding-heart technicians who are eager to save a child.” I understand what he’s referring to because, unbeknown to him, I have met a few of the gifted “lost boys” whom he’s failed to destroy—the males born to priestesses who exhibit the kind of freak gene I have.
“I’d suspect that after meeting you, anyone would go way out of her way to deny your paternity.”
“They go out of their way to claim that the males born to priestesses, like you, are declared ungifted . . . even when they’re not.”
I think of Giffen. He’s one of those. “Sounds as if no one wants you to slaughter innocent children.”
“I’m saving the people who count. Should those males survive, they’d rise up and kill us all.”
“Or maybe just you. I think I’d like to see that.”
He scowls. “I know you would. That’s why I’m here.”
“So I can watch you die? Aww, that’s sort of thoughtful of you. I’ll enjoy that.”
He ignores me. “Kyon must be made to understand that you’re not worth his demise.”
“You’re right—I’m really not. Maybe we should convince him to take me back to Earth? I promise I won’t return to Ethar.”
“You’ll never leave Ethar. You have something that belongs to me.”
“I don’t think I do, but what is it that you think I owe you, Excelsior?”
“The future.”
“Do you expect me to read your palm or something? Could you really trust me if I did?”
“I have all the predictions I need. Your mother saw to that. She gave us her prophecies. No, I’m speaking of your other future.”
“Which would be?”
“Your offspring, Kricket. They belong to me.”
My mouth hangs wide. I glance at Kyon. He’s watching me. My eyes travel back to the image of Excelsior. “I don’t have any children.”
“Nor will you.”
“Then how do you intend to take ownership of my offspring?”
“Your organs will be harvested. I’ll have everything I need to create my