Page 196

“Enter the request and its grounds,” he told the clerk.

The clerk opened a new record.

“The Red Fang is recognised,” Octavian said. “This chamber remains sealed. Lord Vaelor, present your case.”

I rested my hands against the edge of the table.

“Six hours ago, as this chamber entered its communications blackout, Vaelor began simultaneous operations against facilities controlled by House Tureen. The facilities we raided are secure; their captives have been recovered and their records seized. The surviving personnel are in custody.”

Bastian of House Kharos sat back. Octavian leaned forward, and Oswald of Eryndor tapped his fingers against the stone table.

“Under whose authority?” Severin asked.

“Mine.”

“You deployed Vaelor forces against another Great House without consulting this Council.”

“Consulting you would have given your people time to destroy the evidence.”

The chamber guards shifted when I reached into my coat. I placed my pad on the table, and Severin looked from it to Octavian.

“You permitted this?”

“One temporary exception,” Octavian said. “Authorised before the Council convened.”

Reports had reached me throughout the meeting. During the last hour, House Tureen’s personnel had repeatedly attempted to bring emergency messages to their High Lord. Two hundred Vaelor soldiers held the approaches to the chamber, and none of those messages had reached him.

“You used the Council to isolate me from my House.”

“Yes.”

Questions came from around the table, demanding the evidence and the reason for their exclusion. Octavian raised a hand.

“Lord Vaelor will be heard.”

“For twenty-eight years, House Tureen has concealed a research programme within restricted facilities.”

“What was the programme?” Bertram of Solmere asked.

“Travel between realities. Other worlds.”

Low voices spread around the table as the High Lords turned to one another, their questions overlapping. Oswald kept his eyes on me.

Octavian raised a hand, but the conversations continued.

“Silence,” he said firmly. “Lord Vaelor, continue.”

I waited for the last exchange to end.

“One of those realities is designated C-17. Its people have no recognised Alpha, Beta or Omega designations. But what matters most is that some have counterparts in our world: people who are genetically and physically indistinguishable from them, yet have lived entirely different lives.”

Octavian’s expression did not change. “Evidence.”

“Transfer records, orders, medical files, financial records and testimony. Copies of the evidence establishing the programme were placed under independent Council seal before this meeting. The material recovered today is being secured for examination by reviewers outside Vaelor.”

Octavian confirmed that the evidence had been deposited, then gestured for me to continue.

“A counterpart’s blood and genetic profile could satisfy every identity test we considered definitive. An original citizen could be replaced, and our most advanced systems would recognise the counterpart as that person.”