The Emperor's Plague

9

The silver specks in Aryn Dro Thul’s gown swirled around her like a spiral galaxy as she rushed into the comm center at Bornaryn headquarters.

“Are you certain the message is for me?”

“No doubt about it,” the comm officer said, standing up and making way for her at the console. “The proprietary encryption is layered,” he said. “I was only able to decode the first level that addressed it to Lady Aryn Dro Thul.”

Aryn did not allow her hands to shake as she deftly input her authorization to decode the message. It was trilevel-encrypted, which meant that it must be from either her son or her husband. Not even Bornan’s brother Tyko Thul possessed authorization for the third level of encryption. The comm officer discreetly activated his console’s privacy field. Aryn barely noticed when the soundproof and light-scattering security field formed around her.

Realizing that this message might contain news she did not wish to hear, she cued it up to play immediately. Her husband’s voice was accompanied by a sphere of light that pulsated with a variety of ever-changing colors and an audible pattern of harmonics from which Aryn’s musically attuned ears gleaned more information than Bornan’s words could possibly have expressed in so short a time.

“My dearest wife. I greatly regret that my work here is not finished and I cannot return to you. I received two shipments that will delay my return.”

The sphere of light pulsated with two colors side by side, representing Bornan and Raynar together. The vividness of the hues meant that they were both in good health. Around the edges, bright splashes of color indicated the presence of other friends. At the same time, the music told her through a series of harmonizing tones that her husband and son were happy—but the music skipped a beat or two, then paused on an open chord that symbolized something missing from that happiness: her presence.

“There is no urgency to this message. I am completely alone and need no help,” Bornan’s voice went on. Pastel colors wove through the sphere of light, intertwining and then reversing their colors. So, Aryn thought as she recognized the code, the exact opposite is true. Someone was already there helping, but Raynar and Bornan needed reinforcements. Urgently. An undulating low tone warned of danger and the possibility of traitors around her.

“You are a strong-willed woman, my love, and I cannot tell you what to do—but I believe you know what I ask.”

Squiggles of alternating color indicating friends and enemies alike began at the outer edges of the sphere and rippled inward to converge on a single point. It meant that he needed her to bring help to a single location, and that the enemy might already be on its way. The music became a precise arpeggio, and in her mind each individual note became distinct, relaying to her a series of numbers. Coordinates—a map that would take her to her husband.

“Until I see you again, remember that I love you,” Bornan ended.

Light-swirls of sincerity and regret surrounded a bright core of love. A musical note of tenderness rang out a single time. And suddenly the message was gone—music, lights, words … everything. Aryn Dro Thul did not waste time replaying the entire message. She fixed the notes of the arpeggio firmly in her mind, deleted the message, and switched off the privacy field. Coming to a swift decision, she stood and nodded thanks to her comm officer. Then she swept out of the room and headed toward the Imperial Palace. She had to see Leia Organa Solo.

“So you believe your husband found the source of the plague, and he needs our help immediately?” Leia said, leaning forward to study Aryn Dro Thul’s serious expression.

The two women sat together in the Chief of State’s private office.

Aryn nodded. “From the way his message was formatted I would guess he already has several people helping him in addition to our son—your children perhaps?”

Leia nodded. “It sounds like they all found each other.”

“He indicated that they need even more help,” Aryn said. “But Bornan seemed to be concerned about spies and traitors.”

Leia smiled grimly.

“Don’t worry. We’ll send them some trustworthy reinforcements, if I have to hand-pick every member of the team myself. And my husband, General Solo, will lead the mission personally.”