38
In only a few days, Diadem Selik Riomini slid firmly into his duties as the Constellation’s new leader. It did not hurt that the previous Diadem’s reprehensible behavior had left her with few supporters in the Crown Jewels; even her closest allies were at a loss to justify what she had done. Riomini’s greatest detractors grudgingly admitted that he could be no worse.
He and his hand-picked staff swooped into the Sonjeera offices and also commandeered the Duchenet palace. All of Michella’s key employees were replaced, and her personal articles were confiscated, placed in storage, or discarded. The old woman had a fondness for displaying busts, portraits, and crystal-sculpted images of herself; Riomini had all of them removed, wanting no reminders of his disgraced predecessor.
Meanwhile, recovery and reconstruction operations continued at the devastated Sonjeera spaceport, as secondary landing fields were opened around the perimeter of Council City. Anson Tebias had made sure to do the expected duty dances on Riomini’s behalf, expressing grief and determination, vowing to help those who had been harmed by the devastating blow. Such gestures brought cheers, but thanks to the expected tangles of bureaucracy, required little immediate action. Riomini could go about his own business, as planned.
He played a delicate balance of showing how swiftly and efficiently he could restore normal commerce, but not so swiftly as to minimize the extraordinary destruction Michella had caused. He didn’t want to repair everything too quickly. So long as the people blamed the old Diadem for their misery, Riomini had no incentive to ease their pain.
More important to him, though—his burgeoning legal and constitutional staff busied themselves building a massive legal case against the deposed Diadem. They labeled her a murderer, traitor, war criminal. The list of charges expanded daily, and Riomini received regular reports. When he thought of how the ruthless woman had forced him to watch his loyal team of personal guards be incinerated alive, Riomini imagined how he would personally carry out the Diadem’s inevitable sentence.
Yes, it was all going very well, like clockwork.
He stood inside his new office—Michella’s gaudy old office—accompanied by Anson Tebias. To celebrate his new rule, Riomini and his top adviser had been brainstorming a gala banquet and a city-wide feast day. Soon enough, as another feather in the new Diadem’s cap, they would also be able to announce Commodore Hallholme’s conquest of Hellhole and the defeat of the Constellation’s greatest enemy.
The slender Tebias suggested a number of possible themes for the dinner, calling up images on his display pad. “Of course, there should be extensive black decorations to honor the Riomini family, but done in a festive manner with accents of silver, gold, and precious jewels. Your coronation is a happy occasion. It symbolizes a return to normalcy and a new prosperity for the whole Constellation.”
“I like that.” Riomini glanced around the office, which had been stripped of Michella’s trappings. All the bare spots would have to be filled with his own furnishings and favorite things, to be delivered from Aeroc. He gazed at an immense empty picture frame on one wall, where Michella’s portrait had been removed. At that very moment, one of the best Sonjeeran artists was completing a painting of Riomini standing as the victor in the burned rubble of Theser. The rushed (and expensive) commission would be finished and installed in a few days. Riomini had already seen a sketch and considered it very dramatic.
Tebias continued to muse, “Because of the landmark nature of these events, I decided to dig into our momentous, ancient history. That will help put you into perspective, my Lord, as one of the greats of the human race.”
Riomini nodded. “We need to emphasize the magnitude of what I have accomplished—and will continue to accomplish.”
The other man was grinning. Riomini had never seen Tebias so enthusiastic about planning an event. “That’s why I’ve gone directly to the ancient archives in Council City that contain articles from old Earth, objects brought here aboard the original seed colony ships long ago. Much of that history has been lost in the mists of time, and our citizens have forgotten … but what if the feast day has an old Earth theme? We could serve foods made with ancient recipes, and the attendees would be encouraged to wear replicas of old Earth costumes.”
Tebias rattled off so many details that Riomini just listened. He liked what he was hearing. “We should come up with something to give away to the masses as well,” his adviser continued. “Commemorative trinkets, engraved spoons or plaques, all sorts of collectible memorabilia. An event like that, with an old Earth theme, would show that you are not just a man of force, but you are also a man of culture.”
“I like it. Set it up.” Riomini waved a hand to dismiss the man. “Don’t concern me with more details. A Diadem has numerous other pressing matters to attend to. Oh, and continue to help all those people displaced by the explosion, however much you think is necessary. Just don’t make too much of a dent in the treasury—there have always been needy people and there always will be.”
After Tebias departed, the Black Lord stood at a large window that overlooked Heart Square and the government buildings surrounding it. Black Riomini banners fluttered on tall poles around the plaza and hung from every public building. In front of the Council Hall, the red and silver of the Duchenet family had been replaced with a new black-and-silver banner emblazoned with Riomini shield insignia and star-studded Constellation crests.
Not only was Selik Riomini the Diadem, he was also the Supreme Commander of the Army of the Constellation. No one had held so much influence in centuries. Before he claimed the Star Throne, Riomini had controlled three valuable Crown Jewel worlds, and now he ruled all twenty. He had wealth beyond his ability to calculate, and so much power that he could do anything he pleased. Once he consolidated the recalcitrant Deep Zone, he would have to consider what other victories he could achieve. He intended to leave behind a legacy that no one could ever surpass.
Yes, as the rightful Diadem, he had to show moderation and tolerance, as well as a firm hand, so that his subjects would see him as a man of justice. If they admired him, that would make them more inclined to obey his orders.
His new court system had a packed calendar, with former aides and functionaries of the previous regime going on trial day after day. After what Michella had done, very few still supported her or defended her actions, but some opposed the manner in which Riomini had taken the throne.
The common people needed little encouragement to despise Michella Duchenet, however. They blamed her for the Deep Zone debacle, for letting General Adolphus humiliate the Constellation, and for causing great economic turmoil to the Crown Jewels. Riomini also suggested that Michella was responsible for the alien attack that had nearly wrecked the Sonjeera stringline hub, causing further chaos in their daily lives … and now Michella had blown up most of the spaceport and a portion of the capital city!
Riomini wished the old woman had just retired years ago and handed over the throne to him without such inconvenience. If he had been made Diadem earlier, he would have had so much security throughout the Deep Zone that General Adolphus would never have managed to foment a second rebellion.
* * *
Only a fool would suggest that Riomini was not the appropriate leader for the Constellation. Unfortunately, the nobles’ council still had a handful of fools.
Later that day, a delegation of three men marched into the nearly empty general audience chamber, where Diadem Selik sat regally, but not comfortably, on the Star Throne. He had already decided he would have the seat modified. The Hall’s general audience sections were unoccupied, because he was not yet comfortable with having all his actions and decisions viewed by the public, but he allowed the delegation to address him directly.
The three identified themselves as Kax Dorian, Cole Artemis, and Oneas Bilwar—all unimportant men. He was even less impressed when they announced their indignation at how he had “usurped the sacred role of the Diadem and trampled on the Constellation C
harter.” He rolled his eyes.
Oneas Bilwar, a paunchy, overdressed man, had the temerity to step forward. “You rammed your approval through by using intimidation. How dare you bring your personal soldiers into the Council Hall? We call for an immediate vote of no confidence and demand the formation of an interim ruling council. The selection of a new Diadem must be a cautious and well-considered process.”
Sitting back on the throne, Riomini smiled. “Customs and rules of order are fine for casual decisions in times of peace, but during a crisis—and Michella committed a horrific crime!—the true leader does what he must.”
The three men continued to argue, but they seemed very alone in the echoing chamber. His guard commander, Rota Vindahl, moved to stand between Riomini and the delegation, as if to protect him. Bilwar gave her a look of disdain. He tried to step past her. “We formally demand—”
In a flurry of motion, she lashed out with one of the most effective displays of raw violence that Riomini had ever seen, striking all three men in the head with such force that she crushed their skulls. They all collapsed onto the floor, dead.
Observing from the side of the chamber, Anson Tebias scrambled forward, aghast. Riomini rose from the throne, unable to believe what had just happened. He stared at the three bodies. “Your intense loyalty is appreciated, Rota, but I wish you hadn’t done that.”
Tebias came running to the throne with a despairing look on his face. “Now how are we going to clean up this mess? This goes against the benevolent façade we’re trying to place on your rule.”
Though he was not, in fact, all that displeased to have them dead, Riomini put an edge in his voice as he scolded his commander. “In the future you might allow legal processes to run their course.”
Vindahl remained unrepentant. “I dealt with a problem in the necessary way. The men were insulting and disrespectful toward you, my Lord.”
“Which is a crime, but it does not warrant a death sentence. At least not immediately.” He turned to Tebias. “Well, there’s no changing what happened. Complete a report to show that these Michella loyalists tried to assassinate me, but luckily they were stopped by my guard force. One of them tried to evade my guard commander and come at me in a threatening manner, so that fact can be massaged a bit.” He sighed. “What happened here is unfortunate, but it does save our legal system the trouble of having to deal with traitors.”
“As you wish.” Tebias bowed. “Shall I express your dismay at the deaths? That would project the public image of strength and justice.”
Riomini smiled. “Yes, of course.”
* * *
After Tebias and Vindahl worked to clean up and conceal the deaths, Diadem Riomini returned to his offices to study the new reports that had just arrived. He was interrupted when a royal courier in a silver uniform appeared at the door of his office. A nervous young man with cherubic features, he bowed and extended a message scroll, but Riomini waved. “Read it to me.”
The man unfurled the parchment with shaking hands. “An urgent communication sent via stringline drone from Commodore Hallholme at Tehila. It’s addressed to the Council of Lords, but I was ordered to show it to you first.”
“Well, what does he say?” He could feel the smile already growing on his face. By now, the Commodore must have accomplished his mission.
The courier cleared his throat and read aloud. “This is Commodore Percival Hallholme. Please reference my previous reports detailing the consolidation of Tehila and the establishment of a forward base preparatory to our full military assault against General Adolphus at planet Hallholme.
“As you are aware, Diadem Michella Duchenet insisted on accompanying this operation at the last moment, without proper security or escort. I regret to inform you that rebel terrorists have kidnapped the Diadem and fled along the stringline, threatening to kill her if we pursued. We were unable to prevent their escape. Diadem Michella is now a hostage in the hands of our enemy.
“Saboteurs also damaged the Deep Zone terminus ring, preventing the launch of our fleet. We are effecting repairs with all possible speed, but the safety of the Diadem is paramount. The original military plan is now obsolete. If we attack the General, he will use the Diadem as a bargaining chip, or even kill her. Please advise. I await further orders.”
Although he would have preferred to learn that General Adolphus was defeated and the entire Deep Zone recaptured, Riomini did not bother to conceal a smile over this delightful surprise. “I will craft an immediate reply.” He was pleased at how all of the pieces were falling into place for him so perfectly. He would order Commodore Hallholme to achieve his victory at all costs, without regard to the safety of former Diadem Michella Duchenet. In fact, he sincerely hoped the rebels executed the old bitch.
39
Ishop Heer had already visited Slickwater Springs during his previous inspection work for Diadem Michella. Back then, he had been tricked into thinking that the rumors of resurrected alien memories were merely the ecstatic behavior of a bizarre religious cult. He had thought them all gullible fools. Now he realized how close he had come to being contaminated with an insidious alien presence. The very thought was horrific and repulsive.
And now his captors were taking Michella and him back there! He felt ill and frantic. It was only one more link in this chain of nightmares, defeat after crushing defeat.
He was Ishop Heer, a man trying to reclaim his noble blood, someone who had done everything necessary to succeed. But he had been humiliated by the Diadem, betrayed by Enva Tazaar, and trapped here on this awful planet. Michella had delighted in telling him about Laderna’s awful end, and now he didn’t even have the satisfaction of seeing the old bitch killed. Enva had stunned him, discarded him—plausible deniability? Ridiculous! She had used him and then destroyed him. No one understood what he was worth. He could no longer stand it!
Under guard, the two of them arrived at the settlement where delusional volunteers immersed themselves in alien-infested pools, voluntarily accepting the contamination. The living conditions at Slickwater Springs were primitive, but not downright squalid. At least he and Michella weren’t being thrown into the fenced POW compound in the adjacent valley, a place crowded with thousands of captive soldiers from Escobar Hallholme’s fleet. No, they were closer to the insidious alien poison.
Around them at Slickwater Springs, the pools and walkways teemed with people, most of them alien converts who actually reveled in inhuman possession. Beside him, Michella shuddered visibly, repulsed by the bizarre sight. She shot him a sharp, earnest look. “Ishop, promise me you’ll kill me before you let them do that to me.”
“With pleasure, Eminence.” His sincere words only earned him a pained stare from her.
Accompanied by a blond man in an old military uniform, a smug-looking Sophie Vence walked briskly toward them from the complex of pools. Her companion was obviously one of the converts, as his eyes had an eerie, spiraling pearlescence. Sophie said, “Diadem Michella Duchenet, I have every reason in the world to loathe you, both for personal and political reasons. Many good people are dead because of you, including my son.”
Michella recoiled from the strange man. “Keep that … creature … away from me! He’s obviously possessed.”
The convert’s alien gaze focused on Michella. He seemed unperturbed by the insult, didn’t appear to care what the old woman said. “A great many problems would be solved if you were to immerse yourself in the slickwater and join the greater cause.”
Even Ishop’s stomach churned at the thought. Michella warred with her own terror, obviously trying to maintain her composure. “You would not dare!”
Sophie smiled at their obvious discomfort. “Oh, I would dare, but it wouldn’t be worth the headaches—at least not right now.” She indicated the man. “This is Peter Herald, the assistant manager of Slickwater Springs.”
He said, “I call myself Peter-Arnex, to reflect the Xayan who lives inside me.”
“Yes, Peter is one of our s
hadow-Xayans. I work very closely with him. We’re here to escort you to your living quarters, where you’ll be held under guard. I have arranged rooms fit for a Diadem, in a nice bungalow, the best we have to offer.” The hatred oozed out of Sophie’s voice. “It was good enough for your daughter Keana when she joined us.”
“My daughter was a vapid, gullible woman. I am the leader of the Constellation.” Michella was clearly angry. “Keep me away from that contamination.”
“Then I suggest you don’t try to escape. Who knows where you might wander, how you might accidentally be splashed. It would be a pity.”
Sophie pointed out converts who swam in the shimmering water and called out in excited tones. Quieter clusters of people who had not yet immersed themselves stood at boardwalk railings to observe the activities. As they watched, one couple made their final decision and jumped into the water together from the edge of a boardwalk.
Standing close to Ishop, Peter Herald said, “You can learn much more if you just immerse yourself.” He looked at Michella. “And you, as well.”
“I will not!” The old woman’s expression was defiant. “I’m not going near those pools! You will not force me to become possessed by an alien.”
Herald smiled with his generous mouth. “We force no one.”
Sophie said, “I choose not to expose myself either, but most of the converts are perfectly satisfied with taking the plunge.”
Two more shadow-Xayans came near, a young couple. The woman said, “It’s important for us to get as many converts as possible.” She and her companion took a side path toward the large main lodge building.
“Commodore Hallholme will not be bothering us with his warships, and General Adolphus will defeat him soon enough. Everyone is more nervous about another faction of the aliens, who are determined to destroy this planet,” Sophie explained. “They recently bombarded Candela, and now the Xayans are convinced they will hurl asteroids here, too.” She gave the Diadem a sharp smile, taunting her. “You should hope the Constellation comes to us with acceptable terms soon. You’ll want to be away from here before the asteroids come. The Ro-Xayans won’t care whom we have as hostages.”
Hellhole Inferno Page 23
