Hellhole

by Kevin J. Anderson

  The main landing area was a targeting zone littered with upboxes to be shot into orbit and downboxes that had already been received. Heavy machinery moved cargo to supply stations, while rail delivery systems sent passenger pods to waiting areas and terminals.

  Vincent was the first to realize that their pod was being redirected to a military area with a red-demarcated landing zone. A rough male voice crackled out of the reactivated codecall speakers. “Attention, unauthorized passengers from Hallholme – you are being placed in quarantine.”

  “There is no need for that,” Fernando-Zairic replied. “We merely wish to speak with the Diadem.”

  “You exhibit signs of mass delusional behavior, and the alien creature you brought aboard the passenger pod could be a host for extraterrestrial disease organisms. Our precautions are necessary.”

  “We agree to abide by your conditions,” Zairic said, “but the truth is no mass delusion. We have proof of what we say.”

  “Tell it to the Diadem. Once you’re safely sealed and under guard in the warehouse, she will meet with you.”

  “We look forward to it.” Zairic smiled, but not convincingly. He still hadn’t practiced his facial expressions enough, Vincent thought.

  The moment they landed (none too gently) in the target zone, armored vehicles surrounded the passenger pod, as if they expected an invasion force to surge out. A heavy loader picked up the pod and crawled forward on wide treads, rumbling over the fused surface of the landing zone. Peering through the windowport, Vincent saw that they were heading toward a large, ominous-looking hangar.

  Sensing his uneasiness, Zairic said, “You have nothing to fear, Vincent Jenet. As soon as I explain everything to Diadem Michella, we will be set free.”

  Vincent shook his head. “Fernando, if you’re still in there, you’d better caution your friend about human political matters.”

  “Fernando Neron has relegated this matter to me.”

  Vincent sighed. Fernando would just tell him he worried too much anyway.

  Once the pod entered the hangar and the large metal doors rolled shut, intense lights blazed down upon them, bathing the entire vessel. Vincent assumed they were being deep-scanned, but the Constellation military inspectors would find nothing other than the passengers. Even that, however, might be considered dangerous from the Diadem’s point of view.

  The codecall panel remained silent. No one gave them any updates. The shadow-Xayans were content to wait until the Diadem or her representative arrived. Vincent struggled to control his panic.

  As another hour crawled by, he watched through the windowport until he saw a diplomatic vehicle arrive. When an old woman emerged, Vincent recognized the familiar figure he had seen all his life, the dowager leader of the Constellation. She was accompanied by a large, bald man. Vincent recognized him as the Constellation inspector who had been aboard his passenger pod during the journey out to Hellhole: the Diadem’s watchdog and special aide. So, she had come well prepared.

  Michella stood in the brightly lit hangar, gazing at the passenger pod while keeping her distance. If she noticed Vincent’s face at the windowport, she gave no indication. After regarding them for some time, she walked out of sight.

  When the codecall screen glowed to life, Michella’s face filled the pane. “Have you brought my daughter with you? I demand that she be returned unharmed.” Thus far, Cippiq and the others remained outside of the imager’s field of view.

  “She is not harmed,” Zairic said pleasantly, “but she cannot come. Not yet. We decided you would hear our message more clearly if an objective person explained it to you.”

  “You kidnapped and brainwashed her!”

  “Do not jump to conclusions, Diadem Michella. We have much to discuss. Please free us from this quarantine so that you and I may speak face-to-face, as fellow leaders.”

  “I don’t recognize you as a leader at all.”

  “But in centuries past I guided the entire Xayan race, preserved them in slickwater before the destruction of our world, and helped usher them through their awakening. While I am merged into a human, my companion Cippiq is one of only four survivors of our original race. You can see what a majestic people we were. He also wishes to meet you, if you will unseal this passenger pod.”

  “We will speak via codecall for the time being,” Michella said. “You’re staying right there.”

  Zairic bowed in resignation, and his opalescent eyes shone. “I have so much to tell you. All of your people should hear our marvelous news.”

  In an impassioned speech, he described the Xayan quest for ala’ru and how the human race could make that goal possible again. He issued his call for volunteers to help revive the Xayan memories. He droned on and on, caught up in his own dreams. Around him, the shadow-Xayans seemed engrossed in his words.

  All the while, Vincent watched Michella’s expression and demeanor carefully. He could see she hadn’t been swayed. Finally she said in a calculating voice, “I am much more interested in what you can reveal about the plans of General Tiber Adolphus. You’d earn a great deal of goodwill by providing me with vital information. What is his true reason for sending you here? Are you spies?”

  “He did not send us, Diadem. We offered to come.” Zairic gestured to Cippiq, who now moved into the projected field of view. “Our races have strikingly different physical appearances, but we are much the same. Hear me, Diadem. To our great sorrow, even the Xayans suffered from dissent. A major rift in our people nearly destroyed us, and therefore I understand the rift among humans. You must heal the breach before it causes further damage.”

  Vincent saw unconcealed alarm in Michella’s expression. “What sort of monster is that with you?”

  “He’s not a monster. This is Cippiq, an Original Xayan who surfaced on Hallholme.”

  A mumbled male voice came from off screen. The Diadem muted and blanked the screen abruptly for privacy.

  Vincent leaned toward Zairic, speaking in a hushed voice. “What great rift are you talking about among the Xayan people? Do you mean how you and Encix disagreed about the way to save the Xayans from the impact?”

  “No, this was much more serious, a breach of our entire race and destiny. Unfortunately in that instance, I failed utterly.”

  “Are you going to do a demonstration of telemancy to impress the Diadem?” Vincent asked. Zairic shook his head, having adopted a human gesture. “Not yet. Cippiq does not want to upset her further, or frighten her.”

  Before Vincent could raise further questions, Michella reappeared, speaking like a politician again. “You have given me much to think about, and now I ask you to be patient while I contemplate these revelations and decide how to respond. Your arrival opens up possibilities that the human race has never before considered. Just wait here, and this will all be taken care of. Please be patient.”

  Then she offered them her warm and sincere grandmotherly smile – a smile that Vincent had seen in so many of her public appearances over the years. The expression seemed artificial to him now, and he sensed that they needed to get out of there, fast.

  95

  Even quarantined in their passenger pod, the brainwashed human converts were so sincere and earnest that they made Ishop Heer’s skin crawl – even more so than the bizarre caterpillar-like creature did.

  Seeing the slimy thing, Ishop couldn’t convince his mind to accept the fact: the damned aliens were real! Worse, he had failed to discover the truth. Adolphus had tricked him, making him appear to be an incompetent fool before the Diadem and the whole Constellation. If he were to proudly reveal his noble lineage now, he’d be a laughingstock!

  The aliens had been real all along – and the General had access to them, as well as whatever powers they might possess.

  Did Xayan minds take possession of human bodies and impose their memories upon them? Potentially, this revelation had even more frightening consequences than the rebel stringline network. How much more had Adolphus concealed from the Constellation? />
  Standing next to him, isolated in the hangar, Michella said in a low voice, “I don’t like this, Ishop – not at all.”

  “Nor do I, Eminence.”

  “These aliens and their delusions pose a terrible danger to us. It’s contamination.”

  With a shudder, he hoped that the Diadem didn’t think he had been infected during his visit to Hallholme. He hadn’t fallen into one of those pools, or been shoved into one, and yet . . . Ishop watched her for any sign of suspicion directed toward him, but saw none. Yet.

  He swallowed. “I absolutely agree, Eminence. You cannot take any chances. We must not allow anyone on Sonjeera to be exposed to the contamination carried by these converts and that slug-alien – whether it’s a debilitating micro-organism, an inhuman psychic force . . . or just dangerous ideas.”

  While the man who called himself Zairic preached over the code-call link about the Xayan race and their plans for some strange evolutionary and spiritual ascension, the Diadem walked with Ishop out into the hangar, careful to avoid the pod’s windowports. The travelers quarantined inside had only a limited view, so it was easy to remain unseen. Bodyguards and soldiers ringed the hangar door and staffed the observation stations, but left Michella alone as she regarded the ovoid vessel. Like any other passenger pod, it was entirely sealed for passage in space and reentry into the atmosphere. No sound – no germ – could get out.

  The dowager leader pursed her wrinkled lips. “In order to stand against the rest of humanity and its rightful government, General Adolphus has allied himself with an alien race. This situation is a bomb that could explode on us at any moment.” She turned to the pod. “Just listen to that man talk.”

  “Zairic’s words are dangerous, Eminence,” Ishop agreed. “Seditious! I saw the growing cult on Hallholme – the people surrender everything and pretend to be aliens.” His gaze sharpened. “We don’t dare let that mass hysteria spread here on Sonjeera. Or the disease, or psychic pollution . . . whatever it is.” He heard the alarm building in his own voice.

  “This man, this creature wants to infect us in some way, certainly with the General’s blessing,” she said. “It’s got to be part of a greater scheme. Zairic thinks we should welcome him, that people will flock from across the Crown Jewels, give up their lives so they can imagine themselves to be . . .” She waved a hand, as if trying to remember a word she had considered unimportant, though Ishop knew Michella would never forget such a detail. “. . . Xayans.”

  Ishop’s expression soured. “I’m sure many people would surrender their mundane lives in the belief that they could become princes or philosophers from a vanished race. Look at that living alien as proof! Every person wants to feel part of something grand and important.” He fidgeted, wanting to wipe his hands somewhere.

  Michella scowled at him. “My people are already part of something grand! They’re part of my Constellation.”

  “If they become Xayans, they will no longer be part of your Constellation, Eminence.”

  The Diadem was growing angrier by the moment. “This is exactly the sort of unorthodox tactic Adolphus would use to get under my skin. I know what he must intend. While this spreading alien cult throws our government into turmoil, the General will be building his rebel empire out in the Deep Zone. It’s insidious!” Michella paced the hangar’s cold, hard floor. Breezes from outside rattled the sheet alloy walls, making odd echoing sounds in the chamber. “How am I supposed to respond, Ishop? Zairic wants to meet me face to face! What if he touches me and transmits some of that . . . slickwater, so that I become contaminated, too?”

  “You must not allow that to happen, Diadem! And you cannot allow him to address and hypnotize the people of Sonjeera.” He struggled to prove himself to her, yet again. This was a perilous time, a perilous moment. “Think of second- and third-order consequences. Not only would this shadow-Xayan infestation demonstrate that you have lost control of Hallholme, delusions would run rampant throughout the Crown Jewels. Those converts are not well.”

  “And my own daughter is one of them! This just gets worse and worse the more I think about it. The General must be planning to use Keana in some devious manner, unless I can prevent it. How do I get her back?”

  She had to see the reality. “We may never get her back, Majesty.” The Diadem rounded on him with a murderous gaze. He had hoped Keana would blunder into some fatal situation on the hellish planet so he could remove the Duchenet name from his list, but he had never expected this. Nevertheless, he had to make the most of it. “Princess Keana has switched sides and joined the enemy. That just demonstrates how effective and dangerous this alien influence is. Your daughter is lost to us . . . and we will lose much more if you allow her to become a bargaining chip for the General and these aliens.”

  Michella groaned, then glared at the passenger pod as if her gaze could burn through the thick armored hull. She was taken aback by her own abrupt realization. “Yes, Ishop – if my own daughter can be swayed by such nonsense, just imagine how many other weak-willed people would also succumb!” She snorted. “Of course, Keana was always somewhat vapid. She certainly didn’t take after me.”

  “Shall we send the passenger pod back to Hallholme and deny these people any sort of platform here on Sonjeera? It’s plain that Zairic can be very persuasive, very disruptive.”

  For a long moment Michella fell silent, then said, “I have no intention of letting quasi-religious fanatics overrun my Constellation. I thought we got rid of all those types by shipping them off to the Deep Zone in the first place.”

  Ishop considered, and his voice hardened. “Then just sending them away will not be good enough. Zairic is their leader, their spokesman. How much harm could he do if he continues to spread his message?”

  Diadem Michella gave him the sweet maternal smile that worked so well on the populace, but he knew it was often the harbinger of furious reprisal. “You’re right as usual, dear Ishop. It’s best for the Constellation, and for all of humanity, if no one else hears those seductive words – if no one comes into contact with any aspect of these inhuman things.”

  Her own scientists would want to take cell scrapings and other biological samples, run diagnostics, even vivisect that slug-like creature. They would want to run brain scans and complete chemical tests on the duped human converts. Every single step posed the hazard that something, any tiny speck of contamination, could escape. Ishop didn’t dare let her open that dangerous door.

  Fortunately, Diadem Michella thought the same way. She looked at him, and her eyes gleamed with deadly purpose. “Eliminate the entire delegation, Ishop. Cleanly, with absolutely no risk of contaminating anyone outside the pod. This is war after all.”

  96

  The longer they remained inside the passenger pod in isolated silence, the more worried Vincent grew. He rose for the hundredth time and looked out the windowport, but saw nothing. “This has gone on for much too long.”

  No one else seemed to be concerned. “We have given them much to contemplate, and that takes time.” Zairic was obviously confident that his Xayan recruitment speech was convincing, that he had answered all questions and dispensed with any fears or reservations.

  “The Diadem has already sent her inspector, and probably other spies, to Slickwater Springs,” Vincent said. “She already knows about the shadow-Xayans. Most of what you said wasn’t news to her.”

  Zairic closed his eyes gently, let out a low sigh. “But hearing the words from us directly, Vincent, is far different from a mere report. And now that she has seen Cippiq with her own eyes, she can have no further doubts. She knows our claims are real, not just delusions.”

  “Precisely! And that proof won’t help us. Cippiq alone is unsettling enough. What if you terrify her, push her over the edge? After what General Adolphus has done, she’s already reeling. She’ll want to take firm and definitive action.”

  “A wise ruler does not make precipitous decisions. After listening to us, she will be pondering how to frame
her positive response.” Fernando-Zairic just smiled.

  Cippiq looked on in silence, but Vincent presumed he was in telepathic contact with the shadow-Xayans.

  Vincent felt panic rising within him. His companions were too passive and complacent, too trusting. “This isn’t right – and I’m not worrying too much. This is a real problem.” He regarded the shadow-Xayans, trying to imagine how they must look to Diadem Michella. They really did seem like a religious cult who sat in a circle singing oblivious hymns.

  As an idea occurred to him, Vincent leaned forward and spoke in an urgent voice. “We need to convince the Diadem in some other way. We need to fascinate her, tantalize her, show her what the Xayan race has to offer. She needs to see the amazing potential, not just the threat.”

  “We have already done that, Vincent.” Zairic was maddeningly emotionless. “We are no threat.”

  “You don’t understand! Please listen to me. Let Fernando talk with her just for a little while. I’ve seen him in action – he can dance circles around anyone in conversation. He can be damned convincing.”

  “Fernando and I are both aware of his history and reputation among humans. Yes, he may be persuasive, but my voice – as the spokesperson for the Xayan race – has more gravity with the Diadem of the Constellation.”

  Vincent turned on Zairic as panic and frustration rose within him. “Then let me talk with Fernando – directly. I want to hear my friend. I want to see him. He’s always been there before!” Vincent was beginning to wonder whether Fernando’s personality had been eclipsed by the dominating Xayan presence. He also knew that his friend would understand the reason for suspicion and urgency. Vincent could sense that the Diadem was holding something back, and Fernando was an even better judge of veracity and sincerity.