Hellhole

by Kevin J. Anderson

  Cristoph’s eyes burned as he continued to stare. No matter what he said and did now, the people would never forgive him, nor could he forgive himself. He felt it all slipping through his fingers.

  Perhaps this tragedy was stark enough that his father would return, and the two of them could pool their skills and strength. Somehow, they might manage to rebuild after the disaster, to regain the respect of the people they ruled.

  Or maybe this meant the end of the de Carre family.

  17

  While the business of the Constellation took place in the large public halls and small closed rooms of Council City, Keana and Lord de Carre spent their days in idyllic luxury at her Cottage. The private hideaway was a haven, and Keana cherished every moment with Louis, though he would have to attend a Council session soon enough, and then he needed to go check on his son.

  But not today.

  Languid in each other’s company, they dined on a terrace that cantilevered out to grant them a view of the Pond of Birds, its lily gardens, and the noisy celano geese that lived there at this time of year. He read another passionate poem he had written for her, and she kept the paper with his handwriting. In return, she gave him a love letter she had composed the night before.

  Keana took a last bite of seafood mousse, then sopped up the white sauce with her bread. Louis poured himself another glass of chardón and sat back. The waning sunlight cast shadow fragments across his ruggedly handsome face. He extended the bottle toward her. “A little more?”

  She offered him her empty glass. “Every day with you is like a honeymoon.” She made no mention of her husband, who was much more interested in his solitary hobbies and tedious supply work for the military. Bolton had never been much of a romantic, though he did care for her in his own way, more like a brother than a lover. She wouldn’t care a whit if he had his own assignations, but she couldn’t imagine him marshalling the passion for it. Romance just wasn’t among his interests.

  Out on the pond, something agitated the geese; they cackled and skittered across the water, lifting off and flying away. Keana glanced up, balancing her wine glass in two fingers. “Wonder what’s disturbed them?”

  Louis shrugged as he jammed the empty bottle into the ice bucket.

  Keana heard glass breaking downstairs, then shouts followed by running boots. Louis reached for a pistol at his waist, but before he could draw it, red-uniformed soldiers burst onto the terrace, brandishing weapons.

  Recognizing the insignia of her mother’s elite guard force, Keana leaped to her feet. “I am the Diadem’s daughter. How dare you disturb us?”

  Without acknowledging her at all, one of the soldiers deftly confiscated the pistol from Louis, and a very young officer stepped forward, little more than an oversized boy. His smooth, round face looked as if it had never been shaved, and his voice was high-pitched as if he had not yet gone through puberty. “Lord Louis de Carre, we have orders from the Council of Lords to place you under arrest for gross negligence and financial malfeasance.”

  Keana was affronted. “This is absurd! Louis, what are they talking about?”

  Two men held Lord de Carre’s arms as he struggled to break free, more indignant than afraid. “I demand—”

  One of the elite guards slapped an adhesive gag over his mouth so he couldn’t speak. “For your own legal protection, Lord de Carre, we are enforcing your right to remain silent.”

  Keana was astonished. “You can’t do this!”

  The too-young officer looked blandly at Keana. “Charges will be filed in Council, Princess. You may appear at the appointed time to speak as a character witness in his defense.”

  “He has done nothing – he’s been here with me the whole time!”

  “That is precisely the problem, Princess. He has missed six important votes without appointing a proxy.” Refusing to answer further questions, the young officer and his guards marched off with the prisoner, their boots clicking on the tiles. Through the gag on his mouth, Louis couldn’t even shout a farewell to her.

  Stunned, she looked at the wreckage of their meal and of her life. She couldn’t believe what had just happened, and she had not been able to do a thing about it. That wasn’t possible! Keana turned in circles on the terrace, waiting for someone to explain what had happened, to reveal that it was all a cruel joke.

  A tall, slender man appeared in the doorway, wearing the gold-and-black uniform of a logistics officer for the Army of the Constellation; the medals on his chest were decorative only, because he had not served in any combat role. Bolton Crais appeared distraught, and even more terrified than she was. “I-I’m sorry this had to happen, Keana. Even when I couldn’t stop the lords from taking action, I still tried to keep you out of it. But they wouldn’t listen.”

  She stared in shock for a moment. “Bolton, what have you done? You ordered this?”

  He shook his head, but his hazel eyes avoided hers. “My family demanded that the Diadem do something about . . . about your behavior. You know how they are – they didn’t ask my permission. Please believe me, I had nothing to do with this. I heard about it, that’s all.”

  “Then tell them to stop it!” Did she have to hit him in the face with the obvious solution? “Have your family retract their complaint. You and I had an understanding. Go ahead and have any dalliances you like – I don’t care. Why would you do this to me?”

  “I’ve never been interested in other women, Keana. You know that.”

  Actually, she hadn’t known that for certain, hadn’t paid attention. She felt briefly sorry for him. “Bolton, call the guards back. Command them to release Louis. Do you know what a scandal this will cause? There’ll be an uproar.”

  “I can’t command them.” Bolton sounded miserable. “And I’m afraid you’ve already caused the scandal. It doesn’t matter what I think – my family will parade me around as the wronged party, the cuckolded husband.”

  Keana collapsed into her chair, trembling. She didn’t understand. “But why would anyone care? It is my own business!”

  Bolton looked around, as if worried about eavesdroppers. “More than that, Keana. The Riominis want Vielinger, and you gave them the wedge they needed to force a power shift. The Riominis have documented two years of de Carre negligence, numerous industrial accidents that demonstrate incompetent management. Lord Riomini made a good case that his family must take charge of the Constellation’s active iperion mines. He challenged Lord de Carre to a debate about the future of Vielinger, but de Carre never bothered to attend.”

  “Oh, that’s ridiculous! I can’t believe this.” She knew Louis had shirked some of his tedious duties in order to spend more time with her, but she hadn’t believed any of the meetings were particularly important. “Is he going to lose his holdings now because of me?” She looked at her husband, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Do something, Bolton!”

  The other man obviously wanted to come forward to comfort her, put an arm around her shoulders, but he remained frozen. “I’m very sorry – really, I am. Perhaps you could speak with your mother? She can intercede, if she wants to.” If you give her a reason to.

  Keana wiped her face, but she grew cold inside. Diadem Michella had never been happy about her affair with Louis, or about her refusal to bear a legitimate heir. The Diadem’s elite guard would not have come here without specific orders. Ah, now it started to make sense! Yes, by arresting Louis de Carre, the Diadem hoped to gain leverage over her own daughter.

  Keana would do whatever she had to. For Louis. And because he loved her, he would understand. For a time, at least, Keana would have to be sequestered and “happily married” to Bolton, until he managed to get her pregnant. The duties and expectations heaped upon her were suffocating!

  Neither she nor Bolton had any power to change the course of events. Even if they did work together, the sum of their efforts would amount to nothing. They were both trapped. She had to decide whether she would bow entirely to her mother’s demands, or stand up to h
er.

  18

  Even after more than a week on Hellhole, Antonia struggled to convince herself that she was safe from Jako Rullins. Yes, she had a new life, a new name, and no one knew who she was or where she had come from. She had absolutely no reason to fear. He would never find her.

  Still, she didn’t dare underestimate him. Antonia could not relax and let her guard down. She didn’t remember what it was like to feel normal.

  Devon liked to talk as he worked close beside her in one of the greenhouse domes; he was an encyclopedia of everyday information about Hellhole. “When the General built the colony, everything had to be laid down from scratch. Base soil level, fertilizer matrix, primary nutrients. Humans can’t eat any of the native Hellhole species.”

  Sophie’s son worked a regular day like anyone else. The woman had raised him to understand company operations from the ground up, and now he’d taken Antonia under his wing. The young man hovered, obviously smitten with her, but not in Jako’s obsessive way. Devon’s attentions were sweet, but Antonia had forgotten how to believe a person could be warm and open without something dark lurking inside.

  He was pleased to talk about a subject he knew so well. “We’ve made great strides, year after year. In the open fields, we’re getting some crops to survive the native blights, and soon enough, we’ll have agriculture on a larger scale. So far, only a handful of hardy cereal grains do well. Most crops need to be grown inside these domes under carefully controlled conditions.”

  The two crouched together over a bushy tomato plant suspended in a hydroponics solution; water gurgled through the pipes. Antonia inhaled the moisture-laden air, the furry pungent scent of the tomato leaves and nutrient chemicals in the recirculating water.

  “It’s a never-ending battle. The native species are damned pernicious, and only the toughest, nastiest ones survived the disaster.” Devon extended a long needle probe in among the hairy tangled roots to shift some of the strands aside. “See, here’s one. If we don’t catch it in time, the parasite will penetrate the central root system and kill the plant within days.”

  Antonia saw the whip-like blue strand wrapped around the tomato’s roots. As Devon touched it with the tip of his probe, the thread twitched and tightened.

  “We’ve upgraded our filtration and entry systems, but these things still get in. Their spores are microscopic, and we’ve all breathed them, so we have to hope they don’t adapt and start doing to our lungs what they do to these plants. Our botanists and biologists are studying them.”

  Helltown had more than its share of doctors. Some acted as general practitioners to tend the numerous cuts, burns, and broken bones that were so prevalent in a rugged frontier colony. Another group of medical professionals, though, treated this planet as a laboratory for new microorganisms and parasites (preferably useful ones). Xenobiologists rejoiced every time an unusual rash or infection appeared in the population so they could add it to the annals of Constellation biological research.

  As she drew a breath, Antonia wondered if alien spores had been living inside her from the moment she’d stepped off the passenger pod. She watched the whip-like strand feeding on the tomato roots. “Is it a plant or an animal?”

  “A little of both. You should see the cell structure under a microscope.” He blinked, then seemed to realize he was rambling. “We don’t really understand Hellhole biology – but we know how to get rid of these things.” Devon guided the end of the needle probe, and dispensed a discharge of heat and chemical. “Be very careful. If you don’t do it exactly right, these things excrete a toxin as they die. It would kill the tomato plant and make you go into convulsions if you touched it.”

  “How pleasant.”

  Devon handed her the needle probe. “Here, try it yourself. Shouldn’t be hard to find another one of the critters.”

  As they scrutinized the next tomato plant, Antonia spotted the alien thread. It was much smaller than the first, which made the mitigation process more delicate. Devon was impressed. “I can’t believe you noticed that! Very good eye.” He seemed to be hoping for more conversation from her.

  Without answering, Antonia maneuvered the needle tip, careful not to disturb the alien parasite. “You have to admire something so tough. Any native life form that could survive the total destruction of an ecosystem has to be ruthless and hardy. It’s had to adapt, fight, and survive – and not everybody will like the changes that are necessary.”

  Antonia realized that she had certainly changed from the person she’d been.

  She jabbed the needle, dispensed the hot poison, and watched the thread shrivel and die.

  Devon said, “Good – just like a professional.”

  “Is this going to be my profession now?” Antonia felt some fondness for him in return, though she wasn’t about to let down her emotional walls.

  The young man kept talking. “My mother brought me here when I was ten. I don’t remember my father, but she says he was a real bastard. I suppose she did things she’s not proud of, too, to get me off planet and set up a new life here. I’m glad she did. This is my home now.” Devon seemed embarrassed. “But I’d like to see Sonjeera someday, maybe even go to Klief and track down my father so I can punch him in the face.” He gave a nervous laugh of bravado.

  “Not a good idea. It’s best not to reopen wounds.”

  He tried to draw her out, looking fascinated. “What’s your most vivid memory of the Crown Jewel worlds? You were just there.”

  Antonia froze. “My most vivid memories are the ones I’d like to forget.”

  “Sorry I asked.” He couldn’t cover his hurt expression.

  In her mind, though, Devon’s question triggered a cascade of images and emotions. Details involving Jako were her most vivid recollections. He had set in motion an avalanche that forever changed her life; Antonia hadn’t even seen what he was doing until it was too late . . .

  On the night of their last date, when Jako escorted her back to their home with a cocky swagger, she had opened the door, intending to stand there and give him a goodnight kiss. Instead, she’d seen both of her parents dead in the entry hall. Murdered.

  That had been the end of the girl named Tona Quirrie. As she screamed and screamed at the sight of the bodies and all the blood, Jako reacted with utter – and inappropriate – panic. Rather than calling the authorities, he grabbed her hand and fled. She was devastated, wailing, but Jako forced her to run.

  After they’d found a place to hide, still breathing hard and terrified, he haltingly told her about his dark past. She was too dazed to grasp the appalling reality of what he revealed to her. “Jako Rullins isn’t my actual name, nor is this my real appearance.”

  Hanging his head and averting his haunted eyes, he explained that he was an illegitimate son of Lord Selik Riomini, one of the most powerful men in the Constellation. “I am an embarrassment to him. I muddy the waters of Riomini succession here on Aeroc. He’s been trying to kill me for years . . . and now his hired assassins must have tracked us down. The Black Lord murdered your parents, and he would have killed you too if you’d been home. He controls this planet’s law enforcement and the courts, you know. That’s why we can’t go to the authorities!” He clutched her arm. “I have to keep you safe.”

  Jako convinced her to go into hiding with him. She didn’t know what else to do. He kept her moving, claimed to see assassins in shadows, told her stories of numerous times he had barely escaped with his life, how he thought he’d found peace and security in his new identity working for her father, just like a normal person . . . He was the only one she could be close to, the only friend, the only confidante. Jako wouldn’t let her get close to anyone else.

  One night, two weeks after the murders, they hid in an alley. Wet from a light pattering rain but warm as they huddled together, Jako had looked up to the cloud-muffled sky. “I know this isn’t the wedding you ever imagined, but let’s be married, right here out in the open, with no one to see or hear but ourselves.”
He flashed a smile at her. “It’s our commitment that counts anyway, nothing else.”

  Not so long ago, she had wanted to marry him with all her heart; she had begged her parents to allow the wedding, and was devastated when they’d told her to wait. Now, she agreed out of desperation; they were already tied together by their hearts as well as circumstances. This was not a fairy-tale romance at all, yet Jako seemed to find it delightful. At first, she thought he was just being brave, making the best of their ragged situation. But he really did want it that way.

  Their first lovemaking was clumsy, unsatisfying, and rushed – as it was so many times over the next two years, with Jako snatching a moment when he thought they might be safe. Antonia never shook off the sensation that she might be in the targeting scope of a hunter’s weapon. Passion and edgy fear became inseparably linked in her mind.

  They survived like that, constantly moving to elude detection, eking out a living from job to job to job. He taught her how to change her identity, how to dye her hair and cut it herself. Every time she tried to make friends, or became attached to a particular employer or place, Jako whisked her away, whispering urgently that Riomini hunters had found them again.

  For Antonia it was a long, incredible nightmare, but Jako seemed to find the idea romantic: running away together and having her depend only on him.

  One day she discovered to her horror that it was all a lie. Accidentally, while viewing some news coverage of unsolved crimes, she saw his image and learned that Jako wasn’t a Riomini heir after all, and that hunters were after them, but not of the type she’d thought. Worst of all, she learned that he was the one who had hired killers to eliminate her parents just so he could set up this elaborate ruse. One of the contract assassins had been caught and had confessed everything.

  During their time on the run, Jako had made certain she had no ties to keep her connected to home; he had stripped away all hope so that she would believe his preposterous story. Antonia also realized that if she confronted him with the knowledge, he would get violent, perhaps even kill her. Once she discovered the truth, she had to keep him from finding out that she knew.