Return Of The Queen: The Kurtherian Endgame™ Book Eight

by Anderle, Michael

  Return Of The Queen

  The Kurtherian Endgame™ Book Eight

  Michael Anderle

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2020 Michael Anderle

  Cover by Andrew Dobell, www.creativeedgestudios.co.uk

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  Interior Images by Eric Quigley

  Interior Images © LMBPN Publishing

  This book is a Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, April 2020

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-64202-831-7

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64202-832-4

  The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2015-2020 by Michael T. Anderle and LMBPN Publishing.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Books By Michael Anderle

  Connect with Michael Anderle

  The Return of the Queen Team

  Thanks to our Beta Readers:

  Timothy Cox (the myth)

  Diane Velasquez (the legend)

  Dorene A. Johnson, USN, Ret.

  Tom Dickerson (in the way of Life)

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Nicole Emens

  Rachel Beckford

  Diane L. Smith

  James Caplan

  Jackey Hankard-Brodie

  Peter Manis

  Micky Cocker

  Veronica Stephan-Miller

  Deb Mader

  Charles Tillman

  Kelly O'Donnell

  Dorothy Lloyd

  Larry Omans

  Dave Hicks

  Jeff Goode

  Jeff Eaton

  If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!

  Editor

  Lynne Stiegler

  Thank you for continuing to read our adventures with Bethany Anne. As you can tell, the Federation is going to have to come to grips with the Empress being ‘just around the block.’ Since there is a greater evil at their doorsteps, I think they will get over it.

  For now.

  If not, she always has her size sevens to …

  Chapter One

  Devon, QSD Baba Yaga

  Bethany Anne woke up. Her eyes snapped open, the edge of her bed feeling far too close to the precipice of the nightmare that had shattered her consciousness into action. She shifted to free herself from the tangle of sheets and found herself facing Michael, whose focus was on her. “Sorry I woke you.”

  Michael brushed Bethany Anne’s hair out of her eyes, his expression full of concern. “I was just about to wake you. Another nightmare?”

  The red light in Bethany Anne’s eyes faded, along with her anger at feeling vulnerable. “I’m fine. It was just a dream.”

  “Some dream,” he muttered, but the sound barely went past her ears. “You were pulling on the Etheric.”

  Bethany Anne groaned inwardly. “Then it’s just as well that I woke up.” She rolled across the mattress and tucked herself into Michael’s arms. “At least I didn’t destroy the bed this time.”

  They lay there in quiet contentment for a moment before Michael spoke again. “You keep having these ‘dreams.’ Are we certain they’re just nightmares and not Gödel’s latest attempt to weaken you?”

  Bethany Anne hadn’t considered the possibility. She searched her mind for anything that shouldn’t be there but found nothing out of place. “You think she’s fucking with me?”

  Michael’s mouth drew tight. “It’s a possibility. You never did that much work on strengthening your mental capability.”

  Bethany Anne turned over and settled into a comfortable position. “Why would I, when the only one who could break into my mind is you?”

  “So you thought,” Michael murmured. “Perhaps TOM isn’t the only one who needs better protection against mental attacks.”

  Bethany Anne sighed. “Well, that’s just fucking stellar. As if I’m not fighting enough battles, now I have to check myself while I sleep.”

  “You can have ADAM monitor your brain activity if you have another nightmare,” Michael suggested.

  Bethany Anne shook her head and got out of bed. “It’s nearly morning.” She slipped on her robe and headed for the bathroom. “Harkkat is due to arrive in a few hours.”

  Michael rolled his eyes. “You think messing with him is a fitting punishment for the things he’s done? I don’t know why you didn’t get rid of the problem while you had the opportunity.”

  “Because I’m not a bloodthirsty tyrant?” Bethany Anne called over her shoulder.

  “Maybe not on Thursdays,” Michael murmured, a small smile appearing briefly before his seriousness returned. “He’ll turn traitor the first opportunity he gets, just wait and see.”

  Bethany Anne paused at the door. “I don’t know about that. It appears he’s had an epiphany. Dad told me he’s been looking to make amends for his crimes beyond what his sentence requires. He gave his remaining fortune to the families of those who died at the mining outpost.”

  Michael knew fortunes could be made and remade when lives spanned centuries. “Do you believe his repentance is real?” he asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

  Bethany Anne shrugged. “It doesn’t matter right now. I had to think about it for a while, but his skills are too valuable to lose. If he’s honestly resolved to do good, I’m prepared to give him a chance.” She smiled, but the warmth went nowhere near her eyes. “On a very tight leash, of course.”

  “Of course,” Michael replied with a frown.

  Bethany Anne noticed a message from John. She skimmed it, then looked at Michael in surprise. “The Reynolds just Gated into High Tortuga. It appears he picked up a crew while he was out searching for Kurtherians.”

  “Did he find any?” Michael asked as she disappeared into the bathroom.

  Bethany Anne turned on the shower and waited for a moment for the nozzles to gift her with steaming water before stepping into the streams. “John didn’t say. I guess I’ll find out when I get there.”

  “I’ll keep on top of preparations here,” Michael told her. “We won’t fall behind schedule for departure.”

  Bethany Anne emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later. She passed up
the ribboned box with her Louboutins and grabbed her boots from the closet before dressing in her light armor. “For once, I’m less concerned about the timeframe and more concerned all the pieces are in place.” She pulled her boots on while she ordered the many moving parts of Operation Security Blanket in her mind. “We made it through organizing the delivery of supplies from all over the Federation. We have hundreds of technical personnel waiting for the call to board the Baba Yaga.”

  Michael nodded. “I understand. We have a fourteen-month journey ahead of us, even with the Baba Yaga’s Gate drive. We can’t leave to take on Gödel until we’ve protected what we have here.”

  Devon, The Hexagon

  Ricole paused the movie and got up from the couch, startling Sabine, Jacqueline, and Mark. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Sabine looked around. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Ricole spread her arms wide. “This. Business. Devon. Sitting around watching movies when there’s a war happening out there. I need action,” she hissed. “Not paperwork.”

  Jacqueline turned on the couch to face Ricole. “Are you saying you want to leave us?”

  Sabine gasped.

  “No!” Ricole retorted. “What a dumbass thing to say. I’m just feeling restless. I need a change of direction.”

  “She’s not the only one who’s been restless,” Mark commented, glancing at Jacqueline. “Maybe it’s time we all moved on.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jacqueline snapped, perhaps a bit more harshly than she intended. “We have a good life here.”

  Mark held up his hands. “We have a great life. But it’s not in your nature to be sedate, and we’re not short on time. I think we should hear what Ricole’s suggesting before dismissing the idea out of hand.”

  Ricole didn’t actually know what she was suggesting. “Guys, I just want to make a difference. I don’t feel like I’m doing everything I can by working to keep people entertained. Bethany Anne has the operational areas of the Hexagon tied up, and my class all volunteered for duty. What am I giving?”

  “Maintaining morale is important,” Sabine argued. “What we do keeps hope fresh in the minds of the people. How many people have we helped with the profits from Hex Industries? Not to mention the speed at which we were able to get the city rebuilt because of our construction connections.”

  Ricole nodded. “All true, yet we have skills that could be put to use protecting people.” She tapped a fingernail on the table. “I didn’t set out with dreams of management.”

  Sabine sighed. “Dammit. Me either. I hear you, really I do. But what about the people here who rely on us? We can’t just drop our responsibility to them without a word.”

  Ricole’s lip curled. “As if any of us would do that. I think we should talk to Bethany Anne and Michael.”

  Jacqueline snickered. “We’re going nowhere without permission, right?”

  “I was thinking more that we could use some guidance,” Ricole replied, shaking her head. “It’s a given that we’ll face some resistance to the plan from Michael, he likes us safe and sound behind Devon’s defenses. But if we decide what we want to do with the Hex Group businesses and make a solid plan, he and Bethany Anne will see we’re serious.”

  Mark’s brow furrowed, his eyes distant as he worked through the status of their assets. “Considering most of our physical holdings are leased either to Bethany Anne or the Defenders, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find a solution for the rest. The Hex Games is easy: we leave it with Eve.”

  Jacqueline eyed him, the pieces locking into place. “That’s actually a good solution.”

  “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.” Mark huffed. “Since she developed the system, it’s only fair she gets control of it.”

  Jacqueline jumped to her feet, spitting out her first thoughts. “What if we turned the media channels over to the people?” She waved down the initial reactions of the others. “Seriously, listen. Winstanley would still be in control of what gets broadcast. He can monitor the submissions, and the people would create the content. We get tons of applications every week from people looking to create new shows.”

  “That’s too much to put on a single EI,” Sabine countered. “We would have to appoint a regulatory body, which means finding the appropriate people.”

  “Winstanley can take care of arranging interviews,” Jacqueline stated. “But we can’t take a vote without Demon.”

  Sabine nodded. “You can bet she’ll be annoyed she missed this conversation. We’d better call her.”

  She opened a link and added the whole team.

  Demon picked up a moment after. Why are you all calling me at once? Team chats aren’t my thing.

  Sabine chuckled. This is rather important. We’re about to vote on whether to leave Devon. You wouldn’t want to be left out, would you, ma chou?

  What do you mean, vote to leave Devon? Demon demanded. Where are you all?

  We’re at home, Jacqueline told her.

  Why would we leave Devon? Demon asked, curiosity creeping in.

  For an adventure, Ricole replied. To fight.

  Demon was quiet for a moment. Will you all take care of the boring part?

  Of course, silly cat, Sabine told her.

  Then I vote for the adventure. Demon dropped the link without another word.

  Mark grinned, rubbing his hands together. “I guess we’re pulling up stakes.”

  Sabine grabbed her jacket. “I have to go talk to Tim.”

  “It’s a shame he’s tied to the Guardian,” Jacqueline sympathized.

  Sabine smiled. “He’ll understand.”

  Ricole pulled up a sales board on the wallscreen as the door closed behind Sabine. “I was thinking we should start looking for a ship.”

  Mark flopped back onto the couch. “I should help.”

  Jacqueline rolled her eyes as she headed for Network Command. “Of course you think that. I’m going to help Winstanley get started on the want ads.”

  Devon, First City, Federation Consulate

  Tabitha was waiting when the Federation ship touched down on the landing pad on the roof of the building.

  She stood with her arms folded as the new consul was escorted from the ship in cuffs. “Well, if it isn’t the nominee for the Most Upstanding Politician of the Year award.” She nodded a greeting at the two guards in turn. “Simmons, Followill.”

  Harkkat sucked in a breath at the sight of Tabitha and backed up on the ramp, causing his guards to tighten their grips on his arms as they propelled him toward her.

  “He’s all yours,” Simmons told Tabitha, handing the disgraced former trade secretary over to her without ceremony. “Fucking nightmare didn’t shut his damn mouth all the way here.”

  Harkkat rubbed his wrists as Followill released him from his cuffs.

  Tabitha’s grin widened. “Oh, I know how chatty our friend Harkkat is. Hold him for me, please.” She unclipped the handheld subdermal injector unit she’d brought from her belt and pressed it to the base of Harkkat’s skull. “Stay still,” she warned.

  Harkkat froze as he felt a sharp sting. “What was that?”

  Tabitha grinned. “Come on, this isn’t your first rodeo. That was the neural chip Bethany Anne ordered you to be fitted with before you set foot on Devon. It’s there to track your location and to monitor your use of technology and your communications.”

  “Communications?” Harkkat repeated like the word was alien. “I thought I’d be on lockdown inside the consulate.”

  Tabitha snorted and waved to indicate he should follow her to the door into the building. “You are not a prisoner, but consider yourself on parole until you can prove you’ve seen the error of your ways.”

  “I’ve already seen the error of my ways!” Harkkat protested, ducking as the guards' ship buzzed them on its ascent. He ignored Tabitha’s skeptical look. “I swear! Look, I was greedy, and all kinds of stupid. I know that now. I’ve had months in that cell with nothing to do
but think about how my choices led to people dying. I’m a different Leath.”

  Tabitha chuckled, almost believing him. “Yeah, we’ll see. You might find you’re grateful for Big Brother watching if a redemption arc is really your jam.” She opened the door and motioned for Harkkat to go ahead of her into the stairwell.

  “I don’t get it,” Harkkat admitted.

  Tabitha shooed Harkkat to hurry him up. “Like I said, you’re not a prisoner, dumbass. You’ll be provided a salary and quarters as part of your contract. This city can be tempting for lowlifes. We don’t want you falling off the wagon, right?”

  Harkkat lowered his eyes. “It’s more than I deserve.” For once, he wasn’t lying. He knew what he was, and by all rights, he should not be getting this opportunity to make amends.

  “Don’t get sentimental,” Tabitha told him. “Bethany Anne is merciful, but all she’s given you is a rope. You can use it to climb out of the hole you’re in, or you can hang yourself with it.”

  She activated the door mechanism at the bottom of the stairs with a thought and sent Harkkat ahead of her as they entered the building. “Turn right. You should know that the law is simpler on Devon than it is in the Federation.”

  “What do you mean?” Harkkat asked uncertainly. “The law is the law, laid down by the Queen.”

  Tabitha shook her head. “This is the frontier, Harkkat. There is no penal system here. You do right, or you die.”