The interior of the cave seemed to point even more conclusively to a deliberate hand in its creation, its scale making a mockery of any such human constructions. Entire fleets could fit within this enormous cavern andm for all Valerian knew, perhaps they had.

"It's incredible," said Arcturus, and Valerian was surprised to hear genuine emotion in his voice. "I've never seen the like."

"Told you," said Valerian, pleased he had been able to surprise his father.

"And you think this is alien?"

"Don't you?" replied Valerian, surprised at the question.

"I suppose it's possible," conceded his father, "but even if it's true, what does it matter? Whoever built this is long dead and gone."

"Aren't you curious about who built it? What great secrets we might learn from them?"

"Not especially. They are nothing but dust now and no one remembers them. How great could they have been?"

Valerian's frustration at his father's obstinate refusal to grasp the enormity of such revelations grew with every word Arcturus uttered, and his temper began to fray. He realized he'd been sucked into his father's reality by the man's apparent interest in the ancient cave. Valerian shook himself free of it as all the things he had wanted to say to his father suddenly rushed to the forefront of his mind.

"Where have you been all these years?" he blurted. "Why did you never come for us? Didn't you care for us?"

His father turned from his contemplation of the vast cavern, its majesty forgotten in an instant as he saw that the pleasant fiction of a father and son bonding was at an end.

"It was too dangerous," he said simply. "The Confederacy wants me dead and if they knew where you were, they would use you to get to me. There's no great mystery to it, Valerian."

"My mother is ill," said Valerian. "Did you know?"

"Yes, I know."

"Do you care?"

"Of course I care," snapped Arcturus. "What kind of childish question is that?"

"Childish? Is it childish to wonder where you were when the mother of your son is dying?"

"Ailin told me your mother's cancer was inoperable," said Arcturus. "Is he right?"

"He is," confirmed Valerian, fighting to control his anger and hurt. "And all this running from planet to planet and moon to moon isn't doing her any good. It's just making her worse."

"And what would it have achieved if I had come rushing to your side, save put you both in danger?" said Arcturus. "Did you want me to come and help you hold your mother's hand as she lay on her deathbed? Is that it? Well, Valerian, I'm sorry, but that would have achieved nothing. I have greater concerns than comforting you. Or your mother."

Valerian wanted to launch himself al his father and wipe the uncaring expression from his face with his fists, but he kept his anger locked tightly within himself. Though he hated to admit it, Valerian found himself admiring the man's ability to think logically and focus in the face of what would have broken the composure of a lesser man.

But still, he had things to say to his father that needed saying, regardless of whether or not they would penetrate his armor of conceit

"Greater concerns? Like overthrowing the Confederacy?"

"Exactly," said Arcturus. "And such a goal requires sacrifice. We have all lost people in the course of this war, son, including me: my parents, Dorothy, Achton."

"Who?"

"He was my father's head of security, and a good man."

"What happened to him?"

"He was on Korhal when the missiles hit."

"Ah."

"But their deaths will gain meaning when the Confederacy lies in ruins and you and I step in to fill the void. We can do it, Valerian. I have an army behind me that is the equal of anything the Confederacy can field. It's only a matter of time until they break and we can rule what they leave behind. But we can do it right, and found an empire for the good of humanity."

"The good of humanity?" spat Valerian. "You mean the benefit of the Mengsk dynasty."

Arcturus shrugged. "I see no difference between the two," he said.

"And you'd want me beside you?" said Valerian, trying to keep the hope from his voice.

"Of course," replied Arcturus, coming over and gripping his shoulders. “You are my son and you are a Mengsk. Who else would be worthy to stand at my side as my successor?"

"You didn't think so before," pointed out Valerian. "I heard what you said about me. You called me bookish, effeminate, and weak."

"Words spoken in anger long ago," said Arcturus, dismissing the hurt his words had done with a wave of the hand." But look at you now! You have done me proud, boy. And I'm impressed: I can't pretend I'm not. You have achieved a lot since I saw you last."

"I didn't do it for you, Father," he said. "I did it for me."

"I know that, and that's good. A man should never do anything to impress others: he must always do things on his own and for his own sense of validation."

"And what if I don't want to your successor?" said Valerian. "You've been controlling my life from afar for so long now. I think you've gotten used to the idea that I'll always jump at your command. Well, I'm not like that, Father. I am my own man and I make my own decisions."

His father smiled and nodded, letting go of his shoulders and sitting on a nearby hunk of fallen rock. "I remember saying something similar to my father long ago."

Valerian felt the anger drain from him and took a long drink of water from a plastic canteen he removed from his pack.

"Did it do you any good?"

"Not really," said Arcturus, accepting the canteen from Valerian. “I called him a terrorist and a murderer, but now I've done far worse than he ever did. I guess if someone does something truly terrible to you, it's easier to justify your retaliation, no matter how vile it is. The Confederacy killed my family and obliterated my homeworld: what could I possibly do that would approach an atrocity of such magnitude?"

"I don't know," said Valerian. "I don't think I want to know."

"Then what do you want, Valerian?"

"I want to be part of your life, but I want to make my own destiny."

"I said that to my father too," replied Arcturus. "However, I have since found that time and history have a way of sweeping us up and making use of our talents, irrespective of what we might want."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that destiny will sometimes force us down the road it intends for us and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Is that what you think happened to you?"

"Maybe, but I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Because destiny dances to my tune," said Arcturus.

Valerian laughed at that, but the laugher died when he realized his father wasn't joking.

CHAPTER 17

DESTINY DANCES TO MY TUNE...

The words came back to Valerian as he watched the gigantic AAI halo-screen in the main commercial square of Gramercy City, capital of Tyrador VIII. Fully thirty meters wide and nine high, the artificial advertising intelligence projected an image atop a shimmering podium before a giant skyscraper.

Normally, the AAI advertised clothes, soft drinks, or the latest model of groundcar, but today promised to be quite different.

A flickering, three-dimensional image of his father's face hovered over the podium, for once speaking to those who watched without interference from Confederate censors or UNN editors. Upward often thousand people filled the square—traders, shoppers, businessmen, refugees, criminals, and enforcers of the law—all silent and filled with nervous excitement as they listened to the words blaring from the speakers set within the podium.

The voice of Arcturus Mengsk spoke over a magnificent tableau of stirring imagery, sweeping landscapes, and Wraith fighters flying in formation.