“Thank you, my lord.”
Miklos chuckled. “Jesper was certainly never so respectful. It’s amusing to think of him as one of Dharma’s elite.” He clasped his hand over his knee. “Call me Miklos, and I will call you Cynara.”
“Thank you, my… Miklos.”
“That isn’t so difficult, is it?” He grew serious. “You said in your message that you knew that Observer Janek would be reporting the events of the past few days in a prejudicial light, and you wished to present another perspective before any hasty action was taken. Is that correct?”
“It is.” She curbed her impatience and waited for him to finish.
“I have already heard something of Ser Janek’s story. He paints quite an ominous picture. However—” He raised his hand to forestall Cynara’s protest. “I fully intend to hear you out. Ser Ronan.”
Ronan’s attention had never left Miklos, but he had not expected to be addressed. “Aho’Kei.”
“First of Clan… indeed, I’m afraid not. My brother is Archon, and I am quite content to be Second.”
“You know Voishaaur,” Ronan said with wary respect.
“A little. My family was closely involved in negotiations during both shaauri conflicts.” He continued to appear relaxed, as if the subject were not one to arouse powerful emotions. “Ronan is not a shaauri name, is it?”
Once again Ronan was startled, though he hid it quickly. “It was given to me by Kinsmen.”
“Of course.” Miklos leaned forward. “Have you ever been called by another name?”
“No, Aino’Kei.”
“Do you remember anything of your earlier childhood? Your parents?”
“I do not.”
“VelKalevi is a Kinsman designation, but you do not claim Kinsman descent.” He steepled his fingers under his chin. “The Kalevi Line is said to be one of those most opposed to peace with humans; in fact, they have a reputation for murderous hatred of humanity. These were the people who raised you.”
“Lord Miklos—” Cynara began.
He ignored her. “Is it not true, Ser Ronan, that you hate all humans, including yourself?”
* * *
Chapter 17
« ^ »
Cynara shot up from her seat. “Lord Miklos,” she said, “you said you would hear us out—”
He raised his hand. Ronan’s expression was stretched tight, as if the muscles in his temples sought to pull back large, expressive ears he didn’t own.
“The Kalevi raised me,” he said in a near-whisper. “They hate humans. They fear that humans will destroy the way of life they honor.”
“They tortured him,” Cynara said. She felt herself shaking and clenched her fists to assert some control over her body. “They beat him and broke his bones when he was still a child. They tried to destroy his natural telepathic ability.”
“He is a telepath.”
She dropped back into her chair, still shaking. “Ser Janek must have made that clear.”
“Among other things.” He made a calming motion with his hands. “What may seem cruelty to you, Captain, is necessity if I am to understand and judge the situation as you requested.” He looked at Ronan. “Be at ease, young man. I intend you no harm. You will suffer no beatings here.”
“They would have destroyed his mind on Dharma,” Cynara said.
“And that is why you brought him to us.” He got up and went to a blackwood sideboard, where he poured clear liquid from a crystal decanter into a glass. Instead of drinking it himself, he skirted the desk and brought it to Ronan.
“Water,” he said. “Unadulterated, I assure you.”
To Cynara’s shock, Ronan accepted the glass, sniffed it, and drank the contents in one swallow. Miklos resumed his seat.
“Ser Janek,” he said, “appears to suspect that your relationship with this young man has become dangerous to Alliance security. Having witnessed your defense of him, I can see that you care for him a great deal.”
“He’s saved my life and the lives of my crew,” she said. The words felt thick on her tongue. “I realize that Janek questions my objectivity.”
“Ser Ronan sought refuge on the Pegasus, which you granted contrary to Janek’s advice.”
“As long as I am captain of the Pegasus, Lord Miklos, no one seeking sanctuary will be left to die alone in space.”