The Iron Admiral: Conspiracy
By
Greta van der Rol
Dedication
A heartfelt ‘thank you’ to my long-suffering writing buddies for helping me to get this story into shape (you know who you are).Very special thanks to Dale Furse for coaching me through writing 101.
Politics. Hatred. Star systems on the brink of war. A species under threat of extinction from a deadly virus.
Ex-Admiral Chaka Saahren goes undercover to discover the truth. Systems Engineer, Allysha Marten,
takes one last job to rid her of debts and her cheating husband. On Tisyphor, deadly secrets about the past explode, as Allysha and the undercover agent scramble to prevent the coming holocaust and xenocide.
When the ex-Admiral’s identity is revealed, she must come to terms with her feelings for a man she thinks caused the death of innocent civilians, including her father.
In a race against time, Allysha must set aside her conflicted emotions and trust a man she barely knows.
Saahren must convince the woman he loves to find the truth as he once more assumes his position as …
The Iron Admiral .
PfoxChase, a division of Pfoxmoor Publishing The Iron Admiral: Conspiracy
Copyright ©2011 by Greta van der Rol
Print ISBN: 978-1-936827-01-5
Digital ISBN (PDF): 978-1-936827-02-2
Digital ISBN (ePUB): 978-1-936827-03-9
Cover by Sessha Batto
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’
imaginations or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the copyright owner except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Pfoxmoor Publishing electronic publication: March 2011
First Pfoxmoor Publishing print publication: March 2011
Published in the United States of America with international distribution.
Chapter One
Shernish, Carnessa,main planet of the Qerran Suldanate
Ullnish Space Port, a spectacular confection of multi-colored domes and turrets in the best ptorix architectural style, glowed a welcome. Allysha traded a look with Sean as the driver guided his taxi around the concourse to join a line of vehicles, all depositing passengers.
“Looks like we made it,” she murmured.
“So far. But they’ll be after us.” Sean stared along the road to Shernish, where lights were starting to hold their own in the gathering dusk. A lingering line of orange still stained the horizon where the sun had disappeared.
Allysha paid the driver and climbed out of the taxi to join Sean on the pavement. He reached out to grasp her arm but she jerked away. “Let’s not make with the happy couple thing, okay? I mean it. When this is over, I want a divorce.”
He grinned that lopsided grin she used to think was cute. “Don’t be like that, Ally. You know you’re the only one I love.”
Time was that might have worked; had worked. Now she was beginning to wonder what she’d ever seen in him. “Me and that blonde bimbo you were screwing inmy bed?”
Sean flushed, scratched at his hair. She’d come home early from her trip to Brjyl and caught him at it, stark bollocks naked with her riding him.
They followed the crowd into the cavernous main hall. Most of the passengers were humans, probably getting out while they could.Just like us . Sean headed toward the flight schedule displayed in the middle of the main hall while Allysha waited, arms folded, foot tapping on inlaid tiles, eyes flicking around the hall. The building glittered around her, all curved walls and ornate embellishment, busy with people and luggage. A ptorix voice rose above the echoing din and she started, nerves jangling. No. The two conical forms approaching her had pale blue fur and wore elaborately decorated, green robes. High caste business people, she’d guess. The writhing tentacles at the ends of each of four arms betrayed tension, nervousness maybe, but not alarm. They passed her, appearing to glide in their floor-length costumes.
Hard to believe that the sight of a ptorix would frighten her. Then again, she would never have imagined the violent demonstrations, crowds of ptorix brandishing placards saying ‘Humans Out’ rampaging through the streets, attacking human businesses, looting, even assaulting passers by. She shuddered at the memory.
Sean returned, weaving his way between people and luggage. “Next shuttle to the space station leaves in ten minutes.” Stale alcohol wafted with his words. He cast a glance toward the entrance doors. “Best to get lost in the crowd. You can bet Bronx’s mashers will come here when they can’t find us.”
He strode off down the corridor toward the lounge, pushing past people as he went. Allysha hurried to catch up with him. Idiot. How he could have been stupid enough to fall foul of the local crime boss was beyond her. Bronx would ensure they’d both suffer. Ptorix law was very direct when it came to debts; Sean’s debt was her debt. Well, this was it. One last job to pay off Bronx and then the divorce court.
Bye, bye Sean.
The corridor widened into the departure lounge, little more than rows and rows of seating and a counter beside the closed doors to the ramp. All the seats were occupied; at least an hundred other people huddled together in nervous groups, their belongings stacked around their legs on the floor. At the counter a woman sobbed, pleading, and a man, red faced and belligerent, shouted at a sullen ptorix attendant. Somewhere in the crowd, a child started to cry. Every now and then a few bars of piped music struggled above the formless din of murmured conversations until it was drowned out again. The place was claustrophobic. Too many people, too much noise, too much fear. Foreboding pressed down on Allysha’s soul.
“Lucky for us,” Sean said, gazing upon the scene with a satisfied grin. “We’ll be harder to spot in this.”
She shot him a glance. Lucky? If this was lucky, she couldn’t imagine being unlucky.
Following Sean, she edged into the crowd, standing too close to too many people. The sooner they got out of here, the better. The air-conditioning fought a losing battle with the stink of nervous sweat. Her skin prickled with heat. She peered between the bodies, scanning the few ptorix in particular. They stood together, trying not to attract attention. Judging by their tentacles, which waved in and out of the four wide sleeves like an anemone in a swift current, they were as unhappy to be caught up in this as
everybody else. Shouts rang out above the background buzz. Her heart jolted and settled again. Just another irate customer venting his fury on the unfortunate counter staff. She eyed the water dispenser out in the open, near the corridor. She’d love a drink. Best to wait.
Sean’s leap forward sent a lightning bolt down her spine. Her pulse rate slowed when she realized he’d snared two seats against the wall when the incumbents went to the counter. She flung herself down in her chair and rolled tight shoulders. The shuttle should be boarding soon. Surely.
A flash of blue at the edge of the crowd. Her heart bounced. She grabbed Sean’s arm. “Bronx’s goon.
Over to the right.”
“Yes, I see him,” Sean said.
The big ptorix was so obviously a thug. His dark-blue fur marked him as low caste, and his tentacles slashed in rhythmic arcs; backwards and forward, purposeful, concentrated. She slid down in the chair.
The three eyes at the top of the ptorix’
s conical body could easily cover three hundred and twenty degrees. But big as he was, most of the human men were taller; he’d find it difficult to spot them in the crush of bodies and luggage.
The piped music stopped. Silence fell as people looked up expectantly, listening. At last, the boarding announcement.
“Galaxy Interplanet would like to welcome all passengers traveling to Carnessa Station for transit. Please have your ticket ready for scanning.”
The room erupted into noise and activity as people stood and gathered up belongings. Multi-headed queues began to form at the gate, passengers jostling for position to be first into the ramp. Allysha couldn’t see the ptorix thug anymore through the thicket of bodies. Or more importantly, he couldn’t see them.
“Hurry.” Sean pushed his way forward. “We can go to the front—we’ve got first class tickets.”
“I’m impressed,” she said. “Employers with money.”
Sean barged his way through the throng, brandishing his ticket like a weapon in response to any protest.
Even so, he had to work to get through the logjam at the gate.
“Ghatuzsh!”The ptorix howl rose above the din.
Her pulse raced. “He’s seen us. Quick.”
Sean surged forward, shoving his way through protesting passengers to the scanner. The match of ID
and ticket took a split second, then he was through, sprinting down the passageway, Allysha pounding at his heels.
The ramp bent to the left, no longer in a direct line from the lounge. Sean slowed to a rapid walk and she followed suit, panting. She glanced over her shoulder. Shouts in Ptorix and Standard issued from the shuttle lounge but no one seemed to be following.
“We’re okay, Ally.” Sean’s face creased into a satisfied smile. “We’re safe. They won’t let him follow us.”
She just looked at him. If this was safe, so was holding up the targets in a shooting gallery. “Whatever you say. I hope this job’s worth the effort.”
“It’ll be worth it, Ally, you’ll see. We’ll be able to buy Bronx off and still have plenty left.”
She hoped so. This job on Tisyphor wouldn’t be hard work. An old mine being reopened, existing ptorix systems to be interfaced with a brand new human system. Set up the security, set up monitoring. It was similar to the work she had completed at Brjyl. And the money, as Sean had said, was excellent.
A steward greeted them at the airlock and directed them to their seats, half-way down on the left of the first class compartment. The cabin started to fill; grim faced businessmen, a couple with two children, an elderly couple, all escaping Carnessa. When a couple of ptorix came on board her pulse began to race again. But she recognized the high-caste businessmen she’d seen in the departure lounge. They were guided to two places on the other side of the shuttle, where the steward pressed the buttons that converted the human seats to ptorix platforms for them. Soon all the seats were full.
“Welcome aboard the transfer shuttle to Carnessa Space Station,” said the IS in Ptorix. “The flight will take approximately forty five minutes. Please relax and make yourselves comfortable.”
The announcement was repeated in Standard. At last. The hatch seals hissed. Harnesses rose from compartments in the seats and clamped into place over her shoulders and legs. The ship lurched into motion. She let out a breath, blowing away the tension in her shoulders.
The ship’s cabin had been conditioned for take-off, but she still felt some of the pressure of acceleration.
She gazed at the view screen as the ground raced away below, details lost in the greater whole. The lights of Ullnish lined the dark ribbon of river and out to sea scattered gleams betrayed ships waiting to dock. To the west, a small patch of lights must be Shernish.
The ship pierced the clouds and the ground disappeared. Like a curtain closing at the end of a performance. One last job. One last job and she could get on with the rest of her life.
Chapter Two
“We’ve made orbit and are making preparations to land.”
The announcement startled Allysha out of a doze. The harness slid silently from its housing in the seat and snapped down over her legs and shoulders. Sean, interrupted in mid-snore, rubbed sleep from his eyes.
The view screen in the passenger cabin showed a cloud-swathed, green and purple planet with bright white polar caps and dark blue oceans. Past the terminator line, the darkness was complete, without the telltale sprinkling of lights that indicated technology.
Tisyphor. A whole new, mysterious world; at once scary and fascinating. What would it be like?
The atmosphere thickened. The harness tightened around her as the ship shuddered and bucked its way through a deep cloud layer and then slowed for its final descent.
Gases hissing, the ship settled onto its landing pads. The whine of the engines faded into silence, the external hatch soughed open and the harness retracted back into the seat. Her stomach churning, Allysha rose to her feet and collected her bag. She glanced at Sean, still dithering with his belongings, and strode the short distance down the central aisle of the passenger compartment to the open hatch.
Good grief, it was like walking into a sauna. She hesitated until Sean’s hand on her back urged her forward. Moisture began to bead on her face, her shirt stuck to her skin and she was certain she could feel her hair begin to curl. The air tasted different, too; a little bit earthy and sweet. Not unpleasant; just not what she was used to and different again to the arid, dusty air of Brjyl, the only other planet she’d been to apart from home.
The ship had landed on a platform above purple and green forest that spread to the horizon on three sides. Blues and greens seemed brighter, somehow, and reds and oranges more subdued. To her left a sheer rock face rose into an overcast sky. That would be the extinct volcano where the mine was situated. Below and to the right, a short distance away, she caught a glimpse of buildings clustered around a cleared area.
A man came out of a lift on the opposite side of the platform and approached, smiling one of those broad, false smiles that didn’t reach the eyes. “Welcome to Tisyphor. I’m Gerrit van Tongeren. You must be Mister O’Reilly and Miss Marten.”
Sean plastered on an equally broad smile, took the proffered hand and shook it. “Pleased to meet you.”
“If you’d like to come this way.” He herded them into the lift and pressed the button for the ground.
When the door opened, he gestured at an open-topped skimmer standing in the road. “Hop in.”
She sat in the back, while Sean sat beside van Tongeren. They drove along a road through the jungle toward the cluster of buildings she’d seen from the platform. The place was so different to home; strange trees with speckled trunks and leaves like enormous hands hanging down. The clicks and whirrs of wildlife filled the air and a few winged insects drifted amongst the overhanging branches, bright wisps of color against the foliage.
The vehicle pushed through a transparent barrier. She felt the substance, whatever it was, mold briefly around her body and then spring away. The temperature and humidity dropped as though they’d driven into a refrigerator. Wow, that was better. She hadn’t fancied working in a steam bath.
“What was that?” she asked.
“The settlement’s built in a climate-conditioning bubble. Pity it doesn’t extend as far as the mine,” van Tongeren said.
“Is there a tavern here?” Sean asked.
Van Tongeren’s eyebrows arched. “Of course, but don’t you want to see your house?”
“Ally can do that. I’m parched.”
Allysha rolled her eyes. Typical. “That’s okay. Maybe you can drop him off.”
Van Tongeren stopped the skimmer outside a welcoming looking place where scattered tables and benches were interspersed with plants in colored planter boxes. The sign over the door proclaimed the ‘Miners Refuge’. Bouncy, repetitive music played too loudly. Sean alighted and van Tongeren drove on to a stand-alone prefab house just off the main square.
&n
bsp; She walked through the rooms. A pre-fab, sure, but neat and clean, the furniture modern and functional.
“Only one bedroom. Is this for both of us?”
“You were listed as a married couple.”
“Estranged. I don’t want to share with him. Is there anywhere else?”
“Well… you could bunk in with some of the other girls in a dorm…?”
She shook her head. Not a chance. “He can bunk in with somebody.”
“We don’t have much spare space. Maybe I can put him in the ptorix quarters.” He muttered the words, almost to himself.
Ptorix quarters? That sounded interesting. “You have ptorix quarters?”
He rubbed his hand over his lips. “Well… there’s what used to be the ptorix mine manager’s quarters in the mine itself.” His lips curled in distaste. “Not ideal, but we fitted it out for humans so we could use it while the real accommodation was built.”
That sounded good. She could live in a ptorix apartment, especially if it had some human furniture. “I’d like to see that, please.”
Van Tongeren drove back the way they’d come, passed the landing platform and pulled over next to a shiny new human door in a towering rock wall. Allysha eyed a remnant of lichen-encrusted carving and swirling, dancing symbols on the door surrounds, leftovers of a ptorix past. He pressed a switch and the door slid away soundlessly to reveal a well-lit tunnel, clearly newly worked. A tingle of disquiet disturbed
her thoughts as she followed him into the mine. A ptorix tunnel would have been decorated but the rock was bare, not even weathered. Van Tongeren turned left into a side passage. Thirty meters along he ran up a flight of flowing steps on the right until once again they stood at the pointed arch of a ptorix doorway with a very human door carved into its center.
He opened the door for her. “We had to whitewash the walls. Those complicated patterns they use are so hard on the eyes. We fitted it out with proper furniture and a bed and such but none of our people wanted to live here after we’d built the settlement. Understandable, really.”
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