Hellhole

by Kevin J. Anderson

  As she and Fernando-Zairic watched the pools, a man garbed in clothing much too fine for Hellhole approached them. He spoke in a challenging tone. “You should be ashamed of yourselves!”

  Sophie had seen plenty of skeptics or, worse, media reporters eager to expose a conspiracy. “How so?” Somehow, she managed to be polite.

  “If these pools are indeed reservoirs of alien knowledge from a lost civilization, then this” – he spread his hands, and his face took on a disgusted expression – “all of this is an embarrassment. Wise and noble Xayans turned into a tourist attraction? And humans, dunking themselves into that organic liquid, collecting lives as if they were souvenirs? It’s nothing less than sacrilege.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “And when has Diadem Michella refused to exploit anything of value in the Constellation? If this were an iperion quarry, she would have ordered us to dig an open pit half a kilometer wide, and no one would complain.”

  “This is different,” the man insisted. “These are—”

  Zairic cut him off. “It is not sacrilege, because we Xayans wish for this to happen. This is our future, the only way our civilization can live again. We are real. We are awake. We are being helped, not harmed. And the more people who immerse themselves, the more vibrant our race becomes. That is better than preserving artifacts for a museum.”

  “And what happens when all these people take Xayan personalities and go back to the Crown Jewels? Your pool is diminished.”

  Fernando-Zairic responded with a wry smile. “But they don’t want to leave. None of them.”

  Sophie realized he was right. Even those who came from offworld had joined the new shadow-Xayan settlement. Not a single one had left Hellhole. Clearly not satisfied, the skeptic stalked off to speak with the others . . .

  70

  Although Ishop admired Laderna’s tenacity and determination, he needed to be personally involved in solving the upcoming problem, now that he had returned from the dirty pustule of Hallholme. Five noble names remained on his list . . . and how was he to deal with the fact that a Duchenet name was among them? The only clear and immediate options were Princess Keana and the Diadem herself.

  So, killing a Duchenet was going to be difficult, but he was sure he and Laderna could find an eventual solution, though it would require the utmost finesse. A challenge worthy of a true noble. The list was the list, and only a weakling would change the terms just because one item might prove more problematic than the others.

  He had an idea, however. Even though months had passed since the death of Louis de Carre, Princess Keana remained obsessed with finding his son Cristoph, much to her mother’s dismay. That might provide an opening. Keana thought she was being subtle with her clumsy overtures, but she simply had no skill at keeping secrets or cashing in favors. She continued to make a pest of herself with her probing, ineffective questions, but no one had any reason to help her.

  At another time, Ishop might have found it amusing. The Diadem’s naïve daughter had never been taught how to function in the delicately structured politics of the Constellation. She remained unskilled and downright oblivious. Poor thing. She wasn’t stupid, but utterly out of her league – an accident waiting to happen. He’d known for some time that Keana was the one who would have to die, as soon as he could determine how best to accomplish it.

  An idea began to form in his mind, and he asked Laderna to track down all the information she could find on Cristoph de Carre. Just because Keana could not discover his whereabouts did not mean he couldn’t be found easily by someone with the right skills.

  Apart from the joy of eliminating another name on his list, Ishop felt that the government would benefit from this woman’s removal. For the good of the Constellation. He very much liked the efficiency of having one task serve two purposes. He smiled to himself as wheels began to turn in his mind.

  Using her particular skills, Laderna dug for information with her usual dogged determination. After Cristoph’s eviction from the Vielinger estate, the disgraced lordling had simply disappeared. While some gossipers assumed the Riomini overlords had quietly murdered him, Ishop knew that was not the case. Not only would Michella have considered it a waste of time and effort (since the family was ruined anyway), she would have given Ishop the job.

  It wasn’t terribly difficult for Laderna to come up with the answer. Keana might have found it herself, if anyone had been willing to bend rules and put in extra effort for her. Laderna came to Ishop at his new townhouse, beaming, and demanding her reward. As soon as she had sealed the door and covered the windows, she began working at his clothes. “I found Cristoph de Carre.”

  “So, tell me.”

  “Not yet.” She could be irritating at times.

  Though he was anxious to hear the answer, Laderna took her time. Maddening how she was learning to manipulate him! He would have to put a stop to that soon, but for now it was easier to give her what she wanted.

  “He went to Hellhole,” she finally whispered in his ear, then giggled.

  Ishop sat up in bed. It was no surprise that the Riominis would drive the young man away from Vielinger, and the Deep Zone seemed an obvious sanctuary for him. “I was just on that awful planet. I saw no sign of him.”

  “And did you study the entire planet?” She made him realize how absurd his comment had been.

  He shook his head. “Of all the places Cristoph de Carre could have picked, why would he go there?” Ishop frowned at the document handed him, skimmed down the neatly organized notes. Yes, the man had gone to Hellhole, no doubt about it.

  Laderna snuggled close to him. “Think about it, boss. De Carre must hate the Diadem – and who is the Diadem’s greatest enemy in all the universe?”

  Ishop hadn’t considered that. “You think that disgraced lordling is trying to form an alliance with General Adolphus?”

  She couldn’t hide her grin. “If you were in that situation, that’s what I’d advise you to do.”

  She massaged his shoulders, but he found it distracting. He needed to think. Maybe the man wasn’t fleeing from his troubles after all. Despite the numerous accident reports from the Vielinger iperion mines, Cristoph had been a capable administrator, not at all a hedonist like his incompetent father. Maybe the lordling did have plans of his own.

  Ishop knew exactly how to undercut them, and take care of another name on his list at the same time. Now the game was getting even more interesting.

  The following afternoon, Ishop Heer called upon Keana in her royal apartments. He took care to arrive at a time when Bolton Crais was busy at his offices in the Army’s Logistics Department. “Princess, I have good news. I came to you as soon as I found out.”

  At the doorway, she regarded him with suspicion. “Mr Heer, if you’ve come on business for my mother, I have no interest in it.”

  “I’m here on business for you, Princess. Your mother knows nothing about my visit. Perhaps we might keep this little exchange between us?” He lowered his voice. “It’s about Cristoph de Carre.” The name worked like a magic incantation. She quickly invited him in.

  Her sitting room had a view of the spaceport and the flurry of passenger-pod shuttles landing and taking off. Perhaps she enjoyed the illusion of being able to run off and leave the planet, though the Diadem probably kept close tabs on her. Ishop could smell perfumes and cleaning oils, but saw no sign of household staff.

  “Princess, I realize you have been in a great deal of pain over the horrific events that took place some months ago. The death of Louis de Carre was a great tragedy.” She slumped into a chair, focusing all of her efforts on keeping her emotions under control. “It’s plain to everyone that you long to know what happened to his son. My heart goes out to you, so I have taken up your cause. Using my considerable resources, I was able to discover the answer you seek.”

  Keana caught her breath, half rose out of her chair. “You found Cristoph? Where is he? Is he all right?”

  His sincere smile convinced her comple
tely. “Your mother has long known that when something needs to be done, I am the man to accomplish it.” He saw that Keana was in no mood for him to draw out the suspense, however, so he quickly continued. “My information is solid, Princess. Cristoph de Carre is on planet Hallholme. Even now, he is in the hands of that monster Adolphus. I don’t know how long the young man can survive.”

  Keana seemed torn between joy and horror. “I was afraid someone might have murdered him, or that he might have killed himself like Louis. But . . . Hallholme? How awful!” She seemed energized. Her dark blue eyes held a determined fire similar to what Ishop had seen in Diadem Michella. “We’ve got to get him away from there.”

  “My hands are tied, Princess. I fear what your mother would do to me if she knew I was involved. I have told no one else about what I have found – only you. Please keep this matter between us. I would go myself if I could, but you know how vindictive the Diadem can be.”

  “It’s up to me, then.” She began to pace the sitting room with frenetic energy. He didn’t even have to voice the suggestion. “I’ll go there myself and find him! Can you help me make the travel arrangements, Mr Heer?”

  He tried to sound reluctant. He wiped his hands on his clean, trousers. “I’ll do what I can. You’d have to travel alone, tell no one, especially the Diadem.”

  “I don’t intend to give my mother the chance to stop me.” He could see she had made up her mind. “Yes, I will travel to Hallholme. Cristoph has to see that he’s not alone.”

  “Excellent, Princess. No one else can know.” She surprised Ishop by throwing her arms around him in a hug. Awkwardly, he patted her on the back and smiled to himself. The problem was practically taking care of itself.

  Naïve, unprepared, unskilled, and unprotected, Keana would not last long on that nightmare planet. Soon, he would be able to cross the Duchenet name off his list.

  71

  When the alien pools closed down for the night so that Sophie and the workers could have a few hours of quiet time, Slickwater Springs became a peaceful place.

  Antonia loved to be outside alone, just absorbing the silence and the stars. Coming to Hellhole, she had given up everything, with no thought of the future beyond getting away. At last she thought she might actually belong here. She could even envision the possibility of becoming happy.

  Her small, private cabin was on the other side of the pools, far enough from the more raucous guest facilities; Devon’s mother had promised her a more spacious room as soon as the large new guesthouse was finished. Anxious to return to her business concerns in Helltown, Sophie had already suggested that her son could manage the spa resort, with Antonia’s help.

  When Antonia left the main building, Devon walked her to the door and gave her a longing, puppy-dog look. On impulse she leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss that hinted at more to come. “Good night, Devon.” He was startled, then grinned as though she’d just changed his life. She probably had.

  Antonia could never forget the old star-struck days – only two years ago – when an incredibly young and naïve girl named Tona Quirrie had believed in romance and everlasting love. She knew much better now.

  But Sophie’s son was not the same type of man as Jako Rullins. Devon had devoted himself to becoming her friend first, as she had asked, and Antonia found her heart softening towards him.

  “Be careful out there,” he said to her as she walked off through the resort toward her cabin.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” she called.

  At times, when she felt far enough away from Aeroc, she began to wonder if her terrifying experiences had been real after all, but she could never forget that her parents had been murdered, and she had run as far away from her old life as she could possibly get.

  Antonia walked into the night. The yellow light from the open guesthouse door continued to shine into the darkness, so she knew Devon was still standing there, watching as she departed. That pleased her.

  She and Devon were not lovers. He was so innocent, so old-fashioned that he hadn’t made any inappropriate moves whatsoever. She wondered if he even knew how to make a move. Right now, the very thought of sex made her shudder, but if she changed her mind and the moment was right, she realized she would have to be the instigator.

  In the guest encampment, many lights remained on, since nearly sixty newcomers had just arrived. All day long, Antonia had worked with the lodge staff to prepare meals for the influx of visitors, while Devon and his mother had greeted them and given tours of the pools. Two of the shadow-Xayans lived at the camp now to serve as docents and talk about Xayan civilization.

  One of the new arrivals, a rude man who scoffed at the “gullible dreamers,” had jumped into the slickwater just to prove them all wrong. He emerged struggling with himself and trying to disbelieve. “I don’t want this, I don’t want this!” he’d cried in his human voice. “Take it away – I changed my mind!”

  The shadow-Xayans tried to console him. “There is nothing we can do now. We cannot remove the presence once it has become part of you.” Angry and fighting the unwanted new identity in his head, the man had been taken away from the others.

  Previously, because Hallholme was such a minor stop, stringline haulers had run the route with half of their docking clamps empty. But as word spread throughout the Constellation, thanks to the Diadem’s inadvertent publicity, the regular cargo haulers had to be fitted with additional passenger pods just to accommodate the increased demand.

  As with all groups, the new arrivals came to Hellhole for varying reasons. Some were curious and needed to share their questions and fears with one another; some were insecure, lonely; some wanted to brood over their decision; some were adventurers, scientists, explorers; and others needed to be healed. Antonia had seen all types.

  Now, as she walked the compacted gravel path, a man’s shape appeared out of the darkness, standing not far from her cabin. “Excuse me! Can you help, please? There’s a young woman in trouble – she hurt herself over by one of the pools.”

  Antonia couldn’t see him well, but something in his voice carried an urgency that made her want to hurry. “I’ll call for help.”

  “No, just you – right away.” He switched on a bright light and shone it in her face, blinding her. “I only need you.”

  The same tone that had made her react instinctively now froze her with fear. She knew that voice.

  “Jako!”

  She tried to dart away, but the dazzling light in her face prevented her from seeing where she was going. He bounded after her, like a horrific figure from her worst nightmare – which he was.

  She screamed, but Jako grabbed her shoulder and she felt a stinging in her upper arm. “Well, Tona, I’m glad you remember my name at least.”

  In his firm grip, she tried to yell again, but her breath had turned cold. She could only wheeze in a weak and pathetic voice. “Help . . .”

  “I gave you a stun shot. You’ll still be able to walk and do a few other things, but it saps your strength. I can’t have you collapsing on the ground – you’d be useless to me. I need you to walk out of here under your own power, so we can go back to the way things were.”

  “No . . .” Antonia tried to pull away from him, but her bones had turned rubbery as if she were one of the cartilaginous Original Xayans.

  When he dragged her forward, her clumsy feet kicked up dirt and pebbles. “I’ve been looking for you a long time, Tona.” She struggled, tried to pull herself away. She had no weapon, and they were in the shadows, heading toward the outermost pool. She nearly tripped on one of the chunks of obsidian strewn about, but Jako hauled her upright.

  She tried to stall. “How did you find me?”

  He just snorted. “I taught you how to run and how to hide. I taught you all the tricks that you used against me. And because I’m such a good teacher, I thought I might never find you again . . . and then what happens? Your own image gets sent across the Crown Jewels for everyone to see! How stupid was
that? Oh, you changed your name and your appearance, but I’ve seen you in all kinds of disguises. I recognized you right away. Your own parents would have, too . . . if they were still alive.”

  “You killed them.” She wanted to shout, but her voice had little strength. Antonia had never confronted him about it, since she ran away as soon as she discovered the truth.

  He didn’t seem surprised. “I freed you from your shackles. Think of those wondrous years we had.” Now that her vision had recovered from the dazzling light, she could see his shadowy face – a face she had hoped never to see again. The torch’s bright circle of light bobbed around on the ground like one of the skittering spheres of St Elmo’s Fire that she had seen atop the greenhouse domes.

  “I won’t . . . go back with you.” Even though her muscles still functioned to a degree, Antonia let her body fall limp, refusing to cooperate. He slapped her hard and dragged her, but she resisted. She panted, caught her breath, and tried to scream again, but all that came out was a quiet hooting sound.

  “Fine. If you want to be on the ground, then be on your back.” Releasing his grip, he pushed her hard onto the crumbly dirt. “We’ve got unfinished business.”

  Jako dropped the light beside her so that it illuminated a swath of sand and pebbles like a glowing blanket, as if he had some warped idea of romanticism. Terrified, Antonia tried to get back to her feet, but her muscles would not respond. She felt weak, dizzy.

  Always before, Jako had used psychological means to render her helpless so that he could have his way with her. The fact that he would use a debilitating drug showed his cowardly desperation, but it made her essentially powerless at the moment. She tried to raise herself to her elbows, but he shoved her back down, dropped to his knees beside her, and tore her blouse open.