by Alma Boykin
Three days later, Kara took the decision out of their talons and fangs.
Kara only needed the right moment to act. She’d taken careful notes of the cargos coming in and out of Shu’s warehouse, studying which ones posed the most risk of explosion. The building bulged at the corners with hazardous materials because Clan Beesh’s haz-store building needed emergency roof repairs after a windstorm. Lord Shu offered use of his Clan’s building, regulations be damned. Then he’d bought two new interstellar transports for the Clan business, along with spare engines and fuel-generators. Sath had protested to the spaceport safety authorities, but they looked into the matter and ruled that as long as everyone took proper care and no accidents happened, the materials did not exceed the maximums allowed. “I’m not worried about each one,” Sath spat, “Its whole damn pile that scares the fewmets out of me.”
It scared him enough that he gave his workers the option to take leave. “Nothing is coming in, just going out. So we can work light without hurting anything. If you do not feel safe, let me know and don’t come in.” Two of the males took him up on the offer, including Kleek, who turned his pass codes over to Kara.
Kara drank from her flask of vision-leaf tea and studied the weather forecast, and then flipped to the news feed. She almost spat out her tea. “What the blazes?”
“What’s that?” a voice asked from over her shoulder.
“Sorry, Sath, didn’t realize I spoke aloud,” she offered, pointing at the screen. “The Makers think they’ve found a way to prevent deathtouch and bone-crush, or so a rumor claims.”
The maimed reptile read over her shoulder, making a very rude gesture toward the Makers’ laboratory building when he finished. “Bah, idiots. And worse than idiots whoever is laying false trails like that.”
Indeed, the next day’s news feed carried multiple stories of protests and deaths as ever-growing numbers of reptiles pled to participate in the experiments, or tried to stop other reptiles from participating in the experiments, even though Maker Tsae and others denied the rumors. Kara knew better, and knew that she’d been granted the sign for her to act.
That night she put her plans into motion. An unusually large storm for this early in the season threatened to disrupt all spaceport activity, and Sath had sent all but one other worker home. “Nothing is moving tonight. And if something does move, I don’t want any of you here when it happens.” Kara had volunteered to stay, and after some initial hesitation Sath agreed.
Now, she and the two males alternated watching the weather displays and looking outside as the storm lumbered across the plains toward New Southdown. Lightning danced and licked down, turning the sky purple and white. The three reptiles agreed that many years had passed since any of them had seen such fury. “Glad I’m not trying to run the power systems,” the other male on duty opined, and Kara and Sath agreed heartily.
“If we get one of those twist winds, we go to the bunker,” Sath ordered. Not long after he spoke, the power flickered and died. The wind rose higher and higher, and Kara could have sworn that a cargo pod rolled past the vis-steel optical port. She started turning away when she saw motion. The female turned off her safety light better to see out into the storm. It, no—yes, it was!
The Lone God strode through the clouds, eyes blazing, looking at her! Kara’s body stiffened and her mind seemed to separate from the rest of her, watching as she turned and removed her light and tracker harness, leaving them by the battery-backup monitors that she’d been told to watch. Kara knew exactly what to do.
She’d prepared for this moment for sixts. Incompatible chemicals sat stacked atop each other, their labels switched to hide the error. Two fusion generators stood side by side next to a pile of batteries and a stack of cases of solid fuel pellets. Kara worked quickly, unhooking the single grounding wire from the anti-static system, then running a wire from the lightning rods’ ground to a pile of rags and other “sweepings” under a rack of half-empty gas canisters. Now, if the Lone God willed, now, she prayed, backing away in the darkness of the warehouse, then fleeing toward the bunker door. A massive flash and crash shook the Shu warehouse as the ground leader from the building reached an answering tongue of electricity from above.
The first flames glowed only dimly under the gas canisters. Then the material holding the canisters softened, allowing first one and then two to drop into the flames. Sath heard the first pops but ignored them as he tried to re-start the safety systems knocked out by the lightning. Then a fireball engulfed the pile of gas canisters, turning them into a hundred little flamethrowers that scattered across the warehouse. The male froze, then grabbed a fire tank and rushed toward the burning pile. He only had time to pull the first extinguisher grenade from its bag before another fireball immolated him as it slammed onto a stack of ammunition cases, the old explosive kind used for hunting.
The third reptile on duty managed to get out and call for help. But Kara, now utterly insane, danced in the flames, not feeling any pain as her skin dried and began charring. A pile of crates fell over and one landed on the female, ending her life as the roof began sagging. The spaceport’s firefighters arrived in time to bear the brunt of the first explosion, the small one. Twenty minutes later, as the storm finished passing, a series of fireballs burst out of the collapsed roof of Section Two-sixes. Then a massive explosion and wave of fire shook all of New Southdown. White-red flame swallowed the industrial park and the Makers’ lab before continuing on for another kliq, just as Kara had dreamed.
Some of that explosion hit three ships parked at the spaceport, slamming them into each other. Inside, the housings sealing their first-stage extra-atmospheric engines cracked, allowing oxygen, moisture, and other things into the fuel storage sections. Chemical and thermal reactions ignited the fuel, but the cracks were not large enough to release the pressure and all three exploded, starting a brief, rapid nuclear fission event. The second series of shockwaves flattened any remaining buildings for a forefoot-full of kliqs around the spaceport, shattering windows as far as Central City. Secondary fires and explosion began in the wreckage. Even worse, the storm winds pulled the chemical-laden, radioactive smoke up over the city, carrying it over and beyond Central City. Poisonous ash fell on the land and in the river, while the storm picked up some ash and scattered it farther.
Kara’s pack suffered their packsib’s wrath along with all the other Azdhagi, True-dragons, and other creatures in and around New Southdown. Roshee’s temple collapsed in the first wave of detonations, killing him before he knew what had happened. Taershah and Shahkay dug themselves out of their collapsed dwelling, saved from the nuclear blast by the rubble above them. The pair worked despite their own injuries, trying to help the people in the next unit. All across New Southdown, the survivors who could still think struggled to save their families and neighbors. Many more wandered, dazed and injured, unable to function in the darkness and chaos. Explosions continued for hours as fires spread, and a choking black cloud covered the lush countryside around the two cities.
Far to the north of New Southdown, Lord Diish and Prince Tsarli fought off yawns as they watched the transport ship land at the imperial palace’s own spaceport. “I’m too old for nights,” Tsarli confessed.
Diish swept his tail. “You are two sixts of years younger than I am, Your Highness. I am the one who is too old to be standing out in the darkness.”
“Well, we can both blame weather.”
“True, Your Highness. Have you seen the latest sweep of that storm?” Diish hissed appreciatively. “I’ve never seen one that bad.”
A soft chime sounded and the caution light changed from orange to blue as the ramp master turned off the safety shields around the landing area. Prince Tsarli and Lord Diish, along with two guards and several servants, strolled to the newly arrived trans-atmospheric personnel transport. They waited patiently as the entry opened and two crewmembers rolled a treaded ramp to the entrance. A very long hexepodal reptile picked its way down to the waiting nob
les. “Welcome to Drakon IV, Inspector Hsssowli,” Tsarli said through a translator box.
“Thank you,” the other reptile began. While the nobles and the agricultural inspector exchanged greetings, one of the guards heard running footsteps behind them. He turned to see Captain Deek himself, in full armor and weapons, thundering toward the group.
The soldier skidded to a halt and sketched a quick bow. “Highness, my lord, gentle being, an emergency has occurred. I must ask you to move into cover immediately.”
Tsarli gestured politely and the inspector, her two guards, her assistant, and their luggage all followed him out of the landing area and into the palace proper. As soon as he saw the inspector safely installed in her temporary quarters, Tsarli hurried to the Imperial chambers.
There he found Seetoh, their brother Seedak, Captain Deek and his second-in-command and Lt. Ahslee, Lords Ro-diit and Daesarae, and Ladies Tahshi and Tsara, all waiting. “Something blew up in New Southdown my lords, Imperial Majesty,” Deek announced.
“Blew up what, Captain?” Daesarae demanded.
“Everything, my lord.” Deek turned to a monitor on the wall and called up a satellite image. Even through the cloud cover the reptiles could see a flash of light on the southern continent. “It blew up everything.”
7. In Threes
“Is it an attack?” Seetoh demanded of his advisors.
Captain Deek gestured in the negative. “Lieutenant Ahslee?”
The female hid her nerves and shock well. “Imperial Majesty, Lady-Queen, my lords, sir, we’ve seen no activity within the solar system indicating an attack from outside, nor have we received any warnings. The sensor satellites and seismographs report two major explosions, but cloud cover and the storm are blocking any more detail at the moment. Nothing in New Southdown is responding to our calls, not the peacekeepers and not the Imperial detachment at the spaceport proper.”
She called up a hastily graphed data display as the others gaped or shivered, or both. “Central City also suffered damage and the peacekeepers respectfully requested that we quit bothering them for the moment.” Deek smiled a little, then frowned again as she continued, “The first spike is at least one massive explosion, and the marks below the second show an atmospheric energy release much like a fission device. The radiation monitors in Central City spiked briefly, suggesting that the wind picked up material from whatever detonated.”
“Deek, are you certain this is not an attack?” Tsarli pressed. “The Traders could have brought something in without our knowledge,” he reminded everyone.
Deek and Lt. Ahslee both gestured negative. “Highness, I don’t want to go into detail, but let me just say that we know without a doubt that no time-ship has been in or out in the past sixt. And the agricultural inspector from DeShan’s system should have been landing in New Southdown shortly before the explosions, but diverted just prior to entering our atmosphere. She is under guard, however, in case someone tries something stupid.”
“Good decision, Captain,” Seetoh agreed. “We are on emergency status until we can confirm utterly and absolutely that whatever happened was not an attack of any form. Tsarli, call the other councilors and ministers, tell them we know that something happened, and tell them to keep their people on their own lands for the moment. And that we may need to borrow some of their reservists,” he added.
“Yes, Imperial Majesty.” Tsarli took rapid notes, conferring with Daesarae for a moment to verify something.
Seetoh looked at his ladies. “Tahshi, Tsara, tell the rest of the household and make the appropriate preparations. I want a detailed account of our food stocks in the palace, on Crown lands in Likhala, and in coastal depots elsewhere.”
They murmured, “Yes, lord husband,” and filed out of the chamber.
Deek and his soldiers looked up from studying Ahslee’s data pad when their lord began, “Mobilize every reservist in the cities and around Sseekhala. And Ro-diit? Stop all but pre-scheduled arrivals from outside the atmosphere. Send them to…”
“Nightlast has a landing facility and can be isolated, Imperial Majesty,” Deek supplied, and Ro-diit signaled his agreement.
“Nightlast then. Deek, move troops there and make absolutely certain that nothing leaves until it’s been inspected and can be accounted for at both ends of the trail.” Seetoh thought for a moment, hesitating. “And find a way to isolate Central City and New Southdown until we can investigate and interview anyone who survived in New Southdown. Get Shu and Blee to send their people to help you.”
Ro-diit waved his tail frantically, blurting, “Not Shu! Imperial Majesty, Shu has been exiling Clan members affected by the junior problems and many of them went to New Southdown. The out-Clan and some Clan members hate him. Zhi-king has people almost as close and they are neutral, so to speak.”
Annoyed, Seetoh glared at the noble. “Very well. Blee and Zhi-king. And get some of Tarkeela’s experts involved even if you hadn’t planned to, since they know about industrial accidents and Tarkeela is friendly to the out-Clan. And Ahslee, Seedak, organize a meeting of the Imperial pack for tomorrow afternoon palace time, or as soon as possible.” He dismissed them all with a wave of his tail and the reptiles scattered to their tasks.
Immediate crises dealt with, the reaction began setting in and Seetoh returned to the family quarters. His mind and body shook, unable to move farther than a tiny circle of terror, thoughts spinning like the sand-ghosts of the central dryland. He would be the last King-Emperor and it was not fair! His sire’s sire unified the throne world, finally bringing the Azdhagi birthplace under the firm control of the Emperor. The last northern king had been a weak fool but the northern lords fought tenaciously, clinging to their independence. And now it was all lost, all corrupted and decaying like bitterwood!
He did not realize he’d spoken until a furious female voice growled, “No!” Seetoh turned and found his Lady-Queen waiting. “No,” Tahshi snarled. “Never without battle, my lord and sire of my juniors. Azdhagi retreat but never flee.” Her vehemence pulled Seetoh back to coherent thought. She was the daughter of a northern lord and knew well what her people could withstand. “Whatever it was, we will survive, the pack will survive, and the Azdhag Empire will survive.”
“The pack survives,” he agreed.
Seetoh watched his brothers closely as he informed them of the news later the next day. “I will be blunt as there is no time for a full stalk and chase. The walls of the Empire must be defended. There is weakness on the homeworld and our enemies may catch the scent.”
Pale green Laek snorted from his office in the Imperial Forces headquarters on the colony world of Pokara. “Will catch it, Imperial Majesty. They are as persistent as starving kirwal when there’s blood on the wind.”
“How weak is the Throneworld, Imperial Majesty?” blotchy brown Ahtik asked. “And for how long?”
“If the Makers are correct, and I no longer trust their statistics, eighty percent of this generation’s juniors will die before reaching their second sixt of years. And the loss of New Southdown and Central City leaves us gutted of Makers, space transports, and possibly of food supplies as well. I suspect this will be the greatest population loss Azdhagi have ever suffered, and I will ask the True-dragons to take up part of the planetary defense so we can keep the Imperials where they are.” Seetoh watched his siblings calculating the carnage and felt a hint of satisfaction when they shuddered as hard as he had. It reminded him of watching a kirwal ripping through a herd of shootee: any animals not killed and eaten fled, scattering over hundreds of kliqs. Their meat never recovered its quality.
Seedak, the quietest and most studious of the brothers, replied first. “We will support you, Seetoh. We hunt together on this drive and the Azdhag Empire will stand.” In the ancient days all rivalries had stopped when something threatened the pack, and so it remained. For the only time in his horribly long life Seetoh thanked the Lone God for the Azdhag Empire’s enemies. Pressure from outside could keep the Azdhagi tog
ether until Drakon IV could reassert full and effective control over the colonies. And with his siblings’ mates and half their offspring at the new capitol, they could work without fear of contamination in their lines and he would not have to worry about their declaring independence. Their sire, Seekse, had executed one of his own brother’s mates and two juniors when the Nameless One rebelled; the lesson remained fresh.
“How many dead do you foresee, Imperial Majesty?” Tsarli asked from his weak-side seat.
Seetoh repeated, “All of the cohort born within the last four sixts of years. Some may not die of the mutations, but if they carry them they cannot be allowed to breed. And all who lived near and in New Southdown, and many in Central City,” the King-Emperor stated. No emotion colored his voice or showed in his body despite the denial and fury shaking his soul.
As his brothers gaped at him the reptile continued, “I may be wrong. The Makers had difficulty with some Clan lines because their genetics proved resistant to the transfer medium and it now appears that they have more clean individuals. Thus far the worst hit are those who moved to the Numberless Islands and those in Southpoint, Windfall, and Silverstream estate, as well as all of dead-Clan Raetee. The out-Clan as a group suffer far higher numbers of affected juniors than do the Clans, again aside from dead-Clan Raetee.” He glanced to the side at the latest news from Sseekhala and hid a flinch. “The initial guess for New Southdown and Central City is ten million dead, badly wounded, or likely to die of the effects of the chemicals and radiation from the blasts.”
