“My dear Rhoma.” His voice has a greasy thickness. “How sweet of you to come all this way to read us stories, when your people must surely need you at home. How long have you held your position? A week?”
“Almost three, Ambassador. But we’ve been traveling at hyperspeed, so my calendar’s a little mixed up.”
“And when exactly did you complete your Zodai training?”
“In between attacks from Ophiuchus, under the training of my Guide and Advisor Lodestar Mathias Thais.” I smile at him. “Anything else?”
“Yes, dear girl, there is. I’m old and a little hard of hearing, so forgive me, but did you just spend half an hour telling us your House was attacked by the boogeyman?”
People burst out laughing, and Charon’s thin lips curl into a smile, his eyes far from friendly.
“I believe I said Ophiuchus.”
“My dear young lady, we bow to the grief of your stricken world. How confusing this must be for one so inexperienced. No wonder you’re seeing monsters under your bed.”
He signals to an Acolyte, who stands and points at my head, as though he’s going to shoot me with his index finger. Instead, a film beams out from his Paintbrush—a Wave-like fingertip device Scorps use for designing holographic blueprints of their latest innovations.
The film shows Cancer on the night of the Lunar Quadract. The image has the grainy grayness of footage taken through a long-range telescope lens, but the vision of our four pearl-white moons makes my chest ache.
“Please note”—Charon shines a light from his own Paintbrush to indicate our smallest moon, Thebe—“prior to the horrible incident, scientists on this Cancrian moon were experimenting with a new type of quantum fusion reactor. Let’s run this video in fast-forward. Pay close attention, Excellencies.”
I steel my nerves for what’s coming. First, an immense explosion knocks Thebe off course. Then Thebe knocks into Galene, which smacks into Orion, which explodes against Elara, filling the sky with debris. In superfast-forward, the rubble sweeps around Cancer, forming a rocky ring, while a score of larger pieces flame down through the atmosphere, splashing into our ocean and setting off ripples of destruction. When the video ends, my cheeks are wet with tears.
Charon turns to the audience. “Now I will show you what caused this.”
His Acolyte’s next projection shows a star exploding at the edge of our galaxy, far out beyond Pisces. It glows like a thousand suns, expelling sharp rays of debris and hot gases.
“That is a massive hypernova in the Sufianic Clouds. Our data proves cosmic rays from that event triggered a critical overload in Cancer’s quantum reactor, located on the moon Thebe. In short, this dreadful event was caused by a freak accident.”
Cosmic rays from the Sufianic Clouds? Has that been the omen this whole time? Was Caasy right that I’m being deceived?
Charon gestures toward the screen. “House Scorpio tracked this event with our telescopes. Your predecessor, the honored Holy Mother Origene, must have been sleeping not to foresee it.”
“How dare you,” I breathe through my teeth.
Charon’s smile is like a razor’s edge. “Child, no one blames you for fantasizing about monsters. You’re suffering post-traumatic stress. After what you’ve been through, who wouldn’t be?”
“What about Virgo?” I snap. “Who set their planet’s atmosphere on fire?”
Charon’s thin-lipped smile makes the air colder. “Virgo was also experimenting with quantum fusion. Regrettably, the hypernova discharged radiation for many days.”
The Acolyte in the audience screens another video, showing a satellite exploding above Tethys and lighting its upper atmosphere on fire. “That satellite housed Virgo’s quantum reactor,” says Charon. “The result was a storm of acid rain that washed over the planet. Empress Moira would confirm this fact if she could speak. Unfortunately, she’s in a coma, but I have sworn affidavits from her own scientists.”
After he shows these documents, I don’t know what to say next. If I hadn’t been in the room when Moira faced Ophiuchus, I would doubt everything, too.
Who’s going to believe me if Moira doesn’t wake up soon and set them straight?
“So you see,” says Charon, “these sad events have rational explanations. There’s no grand conspiracy at work, only nature and chance.”
When Charon concludes his presentation, Albor Echus rises. “Our thanks to the Eighth House for this report. I think we’ve heard enough.”
28
I START TO OBJECT, but Hysan signals me to wait. He whispers to Ambassador Frey, who stands and takes up the speaker’s staff. “Excellencies, this needs further discussion, but the hour is late. I propose that we table this item until tomorrow.”
He’s buying us time. The hum in the audience increases to a din of complaint, and Albor Echus says, “Must we really continue with this adolescent claptrap?”