The Ashes Of Worlds

by The Ashes of Worlds (v5. 0) [lit]

  He prayed that the subtle plan he had implemented against Sirix would function as he had designed it to. Otherwise, there was no conceivable way he could stop the Klikiss onslaught.

  142

  King Peter

  A ship as large as a Manta rarely landed in the Palace District. The local spaceport’s tethering and support facilities could not easily accommodate the cruiser’s subsidiary mooring systems and stabilizing struts.

  “I’ll use the hovering engines to keep us in place,” Admiral Willis decided. “No need for a full-fledged landing and hours of docking procedures. Too much hassle, and we’re in a hurry. We’ll take our troops out on small skimmers.”

  In the vicinity of the commercial spaceport, Peter watched small private flyers dash out of the way. At any other time, their arrival would have been challenged by a major military response, but all of the EDF ships were deployed in a cordon facing the eleven swarmships.

  The local Hansa security troops were swamped with increasingly vehement demonstrations across the Palace District — across the planet, in fact. As Sarein had promised, Patrick Fitzpatrick and Zhett Kellum continuously rallied them with new broadcasts enumerating Basil’s transgressions. And Chairman Wenceslas wasn’t around to issue any orders. King Rory was noticeably silent.

  “One neat, clean victory coming right up, sire.” Willis brought the Manta down, ignoring the objections of the spaceport authority. “I am escorting the rightful King back to the Whisper Palace, after all. I don’t need to say please and thank-you. Still, I’ll try not to flatten too many of your rejoicing subjects.” The cruiser moved slowly enough so that other ships could get out of her way.

  With OX at his side, alert for any opportunity to assist, Peter and his team prepared to disembark. Two hundred battle-ready soldiers had volunteered for this mission. When he reached the launching bay, he raised his voice to address the troops. “There will be some resistance. A few of those who stand against us will be genuinely loyal to Chairman Wenceslas, but most others have been misled. Use stun gas and twitchers — I want no casualties unless we have absolutely no other choice.” He squared his shoulders. “But be cautious. I doubt the Chairman has given similar orders of restraint.”

  The soldiers in the swift assault group climbed into seventeen troop skimmers, and Peter joined Admiral Willis in the first transport. When the Manta’s bay doors opened, all of the craft dropped out at the same time, descended beneath the hovering cruiser, then struck out on a direct flight path for the Whisper Palace. He had left here in the middle of the night; now he was coming back in broad daylight — as it should be.

  Throngs of demonstrators crowded plazas, filled alleys. There were fires and banners. In many areas the overwhelmed Hansa guards did not even try to keep them in check. Peter hoped he could reassure the mobs and impose order before they set fire to the Hansa HQ.

  The troop skimmers landed in a cluster just in front of the Whisper Palace, arriving faster than the Hansa guards could respond to intercept them. The skimmer hatches hummed open simultaneously, and Confederation soldiers spilled out.

  Willis and OX stopped protectively beside Peter as he paused to look up at the many-towered structure of the Palace. For the first time, he saw how ostentatious the enormous structure seemed, too cold and elaborate. Not like Theroc. And neither his family nor the Confederation could be truly safe until Peter closed the book on the dark days of the Hansa.

  “Let’s go finish this.”

  At his command, the assault troops raced up the broad stone staircase. Before his soldiers could reach the towering arches of the grand entrance, though, the glass-inset doors swung open. Colonel Andez and twenty of her fellow storm troopers stood with their weapons drawn — deadly projectile weapons, not stunners. “We have a warrant for your arrest.”

  Willis pushed forward. “We don’t recognize the validity of any Hansa order.”

  From the middle of the stairs, Peter shouted up at them. “I am the rightful King, and the Whisper Palace is mine. The people are calling for change. The Chairman’s time is finished, and so is yours. You can’t stop this uprising by standing in my way.”

  Forthright and angry, Andez thrust up her chin and sneered. “You come slinking back while the Chairman is bravely facing the Klikiss. You are an opportunist, a coward, and an outlaw.”

  Peter’s overwhelming number of troops held out their stunners and moved up the stairs. Though not cowed into submission, Andez visibly panicked. “Take them out! Shoot the King.”

  The astonishing order caused her troops to hesitate, but Peter’s soldiers did not. With a buzzing crackle, twitcher beams engulfed Andez and her guards. The cleanup crew folded to the ground, a crowd of jittering arms and legs strewn across the grand foyer.

  “I can see why the Chairman likes her,” Willis said. “She’s as boneheaded as he is.”

  Peter nodded to the Confederation soldiers. “Good work.”

  Willis issued orders for Andez and her companions to be disarmed, put in restraints, and locked into one of the meeting rooms just off the grand foyer. “That should hold them for now. We can deal with them once we’ve secured control.”

  As the fallen guards were taken away, Peter gestured for the others to follow him. “Now we go inside — to the throne room.”

  “Shall I take the lead, King Peter?” OX asked. “If we encounter additional resistance, I can draw fire, and I am expendable.”

  He turned to the Teacher compy, thinking of everything OX had done for him, the sacrifices he had made. The compy had voluntarily deleted all of his memory and history — his very essence — just to save Peter and Estarra. “You are not expendable.” He looked at his troops. “I don’t intend to lose anybody.” He passed deeper into the familiar passageways with his team pressing around him. Willis dispatched separate squads to adjacent halls and wings to secure the Whisper Palace, but Peter headed directly for the throne room.

  When they marched into the spectacular chamber, Peter found King Rory sitting on the throne, dwarfed by the massive chair. He was alone in the big room. The boy stood indignantly when he saw them swarming toward him. “Guards! Help!”

  Peter walked up the stairs to the throne and stood directly before the boy king. “You have nothing to fear from us, Rory.”

  The boy looked uncertain. “Colonel Andez ordered me to come here after the Chairman went to the swarmship. She said I had to sit in my place as the Hansa’s King . . . but there’s no one else around. The deputy’s gone. I know Captain McCammon is dead, but where are the rest of the royal guards? I’ve heard explosions outside. The demonstrators are bound to come into the Whisper Palace!”

  Admiral Willis gestured, and the guards fanned out to protect the other entrances to the throne room. “This chamber is secure, King Peter.”

  “You don’t need to worry about the protesters,” Peter said to Rory. “In fact, I might be the only one who can save your life.” He spoke with genuine compassion. “I’ll keep you safe from the Chairman, too. I know what he did to you, because he did the same thing to me.”

  143

  Robb Brindle

  The gigantic alien vessels shimmered and pulsed, like several huge beating hearts formed of countless individual specks. Sarein and Estarra waited with Robb on the bridge, all of them trying to hide their anxiety. Captains Kett and Roberts sat unobtrusively at two empty stations. Nobody spoke.

  By now, Admiral Willis and King Peter should have made it to the Whisper Palace, but there had been no word from the King . . . or from Chairman Wenceslas since he’d disappeared into the gigantic Klikiss vessel.

  “Anybody bring a deck of cards?” Rlinda finally said, breaking the silence.

  Suddenly, perhaps responding to some kind of silent, simultaneous transmission, the eleven conglomerate ships began to move. Though Robb saw no engines, or any means of acceleration, the insect vessels lumbered through space like small asteroids, picking up speed and heading straight toward them.

  Ro
bb shouted orders. “Evasive action! Don’t let those things roll over us.”

  His helmsman was already scrambling at his controls, but the swarmships plowed past on a course directly for Earth, barely missing the Confederation vessels. The bugs took no notice of them.

  “Something’s sure got the breedex riled up,” Robb commented.

  “Probably something the Chairman said,” Estarra added.

  Sarein’s face was hard. “Basil can be irritating.”

  Robb’s father spoke across the priority comm channel from the Goliath. “I am going to withdraw to Earth to set up a defensive line in case those swarmships attack.”

  Leaving the channel open, Robb called out, “You all heard General Brindle. Let’s not have him fight this battle alone.”

  The Confederation vessels drew back into formation and sped after the Goliath and the EDF fleet, who were already on the move. The Klikiss seemed to ignore them altogether as the swarmships plunged forward, hell-bent on reaching Earth.

  Two of the swarmships split from the others and shot off to pursue a specific target. Robb called for long-range scans and saw the exotic angular vessels constructed by the black robots. Their engines blazed as the robots headed away from Earth, rising up out of the plane of the solar system, and a group of newly repaired EDF ships flew with them.

  “They’re sure in a hurry to get out of here,” Captain Roberts said. “With good reason, I suppose.”

  When the two swarmships veered off toward the robot ships, Robb realized that the breedex must have discovered the Chairman’s bargain with Sirix. “That’ll make the bugs really unhappy.” Countless component vessels were already shooting energy weapons at the fleeing robots, but Robb couldn’t say he was sorry.

  More important, the other nine swarmships were still headed toward Earth. Smaller craft began to split off and bombard the ship-repair docks around the planet. “Should we open fire?” Queen Estarra asked. “Do we have enough combined weapons to damage those alien clusters?”

  Robb knew how difficult the swarmships had been to fight at Pym, and this insect force was hundreds of times larger. “It would be like pricking an elephant with a needle.”

  “But we have a lot of needles, don’t we?” Captain Kett said. “We’ll fly the Blind Faith out there to take potshots, if it will do any good.”

  “I’ll thank you not to go volunteering my ship,” Roberts said. “You already crashed your own.”

  The EDF battle group, though, did not show restraint. Robb’s father ordered a barrage to delay the giant clustered vessels before they could take up their positions above the Earth. Each blast destroyed at least one component ship, but there were millions. Robb directed his ships to help his father. The concentrated shots peeled off the clusters’ external components, but all signs of damage were simply absorbed and erased.

  Swifter, smaller human vessels passed the swarmships and turned about to form a crowded defensive line, the Jupiter next to the Goliath. It seemed an impossible stance, but they did it nevertheless.

  Robb swallowed hard and sat straighter in his command chair. “It’s showtime.”

  The nine swarmships closed around Earth — and then stopped in front of the blockade of EDF and Confederation vessels. They just hung there.

  144

  Admiral Sheila Willis

  Though no one had asked him to, King Rory stepped away from the massive throne and now sat on the stone steps of the dais, looking pale. In a way, he seemed almost relieved.

  Admiral Willis’s troops had secured the throne room, and Peter was clearly in charge. Within the first twenty minutes, she set up holo-imagers and newsnet recorders, then transmitted a live feed of King Peter on his throne. He hoped it would quell some of the riots.

  “People of the Hansa, I am ready to resume my responsibilities as your King. Chairman Wenceslas has been relieved of his duties, and Rory has surrendered the throne. The Confederation and I will do everything in our power to repair the recent damage to Earth, unify humanity, ensure the rights of every citizen, and strengthen the human race.”

  Outside in the streets, the demonstrations had grown in size and fervor, swelling with a giddy, celebratory mood despite the looming Klikiss threat.

  Shortly after they had solidified their hold on the Whisper Palace, Deputy Cain reappeared. Even with the Hansa, and perhaps the human race itself, on the verge of total destruction, he looked as if this were any other day and he was simply attending a conference. Willis told her guards to let the man pass, and Cain approached the throne with a polite bow. “King Peter, I’m pleased to see I could count on you. Sarein obviously delivered our message. She is safe?”

  Peter nodded. “She’s with Queen Estarra up on the flagship. I’m grateful for what you did. You took quite a risk.”

  “It was necessary. The worst I’d anticipated for today was being murdered by the Chairman becausee Sarein and I undermined his authority. Unfortunately, the arrival of the Klikiss demonstrates that there are even worse things. Our priorities have obviously changed. We’ll have to adapt our approach to finishing this.”

  Patrick and Zhett, having seen the Confederation Manta hovering in the Palace District, also arrived to offer their assistance. Peter welcomed them. “I’m relieved to see you safe, and free, Mr. Fitzpatrick. You cleared the way for my return, just as I had hoped your grandmother would.”

  Patrick smiled. “As you can see on the newsnets, you have a lot of support on Earth, sire. It’s good to have you back.”

  Willis was obviously pleased to see him. “You always did excel in causing trouble, Mr. Fitzpatrick. Glad to see you using your talents in a productive way.”

  Patrick straightened. “News has already spread of King Peter’s return, but I’d like to broadcast my own message from here. Freedom’s Sword is waiting for confirmation — they’ll believe this isn’t one of the Chairman’s tricks if it comes from me.”

  Deputy Cain nodded politely. “The central communications nexus is located on a sublevel of the Whisper Palace. If you transmit from there, using the governmental overrides, everyone on the planet will hear your broadcast.”

  “I can assist you in accessing it,” OX said.

  Willis dispatched five soldiers to escort the Teacher compy, Patrick, and Zhett to the comm center. Their exuberant message went out on every public channel, where it was seen by the people glued to their update screens for news about the Klikiss invasion. The Chairman didn’t have a ghost of a chance of wrangling his way back into power.

  Just then, Robb Brindle called on the emergency channel, “Admiral! Is the King’s position secure? The Klikiss are on their way! We can’t stop them.” Images played across the small communications unit showing the monstrous swarmships charging toward Earth. “We sure could use some help up here — every Manta counts.”

  Peter wasted no time. “Return to your ship, Admiral. Go defend Earth.”

  “I can’t leave you here unprotected, sire! What if the Chairman tries to pull something?”

  The King frowned. “Admiral, if the Klikiss get through, there will be no one left to protect. Leave a dozen soldiers behind with me, but take your Manta and go! I’m counting on you to protect Queen Estarra.”

  Willis raced out of the throne room, yelling into the comm unit, “Prepare for immediate liftoff! Our day’s not over yet — not by a long shot.”

  145

  Adar Zan’nh

  Shielded by gauzy cocoons of wental water, the Solar Navy warliners raced toward Ildira. Adar Zan’nh was ready to take back his world. At last, he had the weapons he needed to battle the faeros.

  All of his surviving warliners flew in perfect formation, and the Confederation ships traveling with them were loaded with cylinders of frozen wental water. Those ice projectiles had destroyed the fireballs far more effectively than his sacrifice of whole warliners had, and now the Solar Navy also had hundreds of the artillery shells. Numerous water-encapsulated treelings from Theroc flitted like small pearls
around the wental sphere flown by Jess and Cesca.

  Yes, this would be a battle to be remembered in the Saga of Seven Suns.

  Sullivan Gold stood at the edge of the command nucleus. Quiet until now, the old man let out a gasp as the long-range images sharpened on the screen. “My God! Is that all of the faeros?”

  Space around Ildira was clogged with a blizzard of fireballs, an incandescent storm of new faeros that Rusa’h had created by consuming the soul-fires of helpless Ildirans.

  “We will defeat them.” Zan’nh allowed no doubt whatsoever to dilute his words.

  His helmsman suddenly let out a surprised cry. “We are accelerating, Adar. I am no longer in control of this warliner.” He lifted his hands helplessly. “We are being pulled along.”

  Zan’nh understood. “Yes — by our allies. The wentals are leading the charge now.” He did not try to hide his anticipation. “Prepare for the first clash.”

  The water elementals propelled the Solar Navy ships forward like huge spearpoints, hundreds of battleship-sized projectiles. The faeros gathered, as if curious but unconcerned about this charge. Some swept toward the wental-swathed ships, while others ricocheted away like sparks on a wind.

  Two anxious Confederation pilots shot several wental-ice shells in a preemptive flurry. Even though their panicked targeting was poor, the projectiles swerved of their own volition and plunged into a group of faeros, snuffing them out in a combined misty explosion.

  The Solar Navy warliners accelerated as the warrior wentals raced to find targets. Zan’nh gripped the rail, forced to do nothing more than watch the battle because he could not control the movement of his own ship. As Adar, he was used to making the strategy and giving the orders.

  One blazing fireball careened directly into their path, wreathed in huge arcs of fire. The flagship plunged directly toward it.

  “Adar!” the helmsman yelped.