The Ashes Of Worlds

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

  “Scored a hit every single time, but it doesn’t look like I made a dent,” he said, exasperated. “Can’t we make ice projectiles from the rest of the wental water in the hold?”

  “If there’s time. We’re in the thick of things right now.”

  Like transparent pearls, the wental-encased treelings streaked ahead to encounter the new wave of fireballs emerging from the suns. Caught up in the flow, the Aquarius was swept along with the bubbles like a leaf in a windstorm. Nikko didn’t know what the innocuous-looking globes intended to do. They looked so tiny compared to the faeros. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to underestimate them.

  Closing in on a flaming ellipsoid, the nearest tree-bubble expanded by orders of magnitude, inflating like a huge balloon. Stretching its outer membranes, the water sphere opened and turned inside out. In an instant, like a fish gulping an insect, the bubble entirely englobed the fireball in a filmy prison. From within the bubble, the treeling added strength drawn from the worldforest — trapping the faeros. Though the elemental flame struggled, caught between the water and tree forces, it could not escape.

  Before the numerous faeros could alter their courses, hundreds of the small tree-bubbles expanded and swallowed the fireballs, removing them from the battlefield.

  “Well, look at that — they’re containing the bastards,” Crim said with a whoop.

  The bubbles snared the unsuspecting faeros, scooping them out of space. Within minutes, fully a quarter of the freshly emerged ellipsoids had been captured within the thin liquid walls. When a tree-bubble had encased a fiery entity, it hauled the squirming and helpless faeros back toward the nearest star.

  More tiny tree-bubbles flitted back and forth, searching for fireballs to snap up. The flaming elementals withdrew, apparently in a panic, and the small pearly spheres pursued them.

  Borne along with the ships of Nikko’s fellow water bearers, the Aquarius raced into the turbulent flare zone around Ildira’s primary star.

  “Where do you think we’re going, boy?” Caleb asked.

  Nikko shrugged. “We’re following them.”

  The first tree-bubbles dragged their captive flames down into the sun’s photosphere. Without hesitation, they plunged into the roiling stellar sea, pulling the trapped faeros with them. One after another, the expanded bubbles dropped like stones into the star, sinking deep until they vanished in the plasma oceans.

  His father watched with keen interest. “Looks good so far, but now what are they going to do?”

  Nikko had a sense of the answer. “I think they’ll hold the faeros inside the suns and seal the transgates. Those traps will keep the faeros within their stars, just like they bottled the hydrogues inside their planets.”

  “I wish they’d just snuff out the damned things,” Caleb muttered.

  Crim Tylar still didn’t understand. “Don’t the faeros like living in the suns?”

  Nikko had only a tenuous grasp of what the wentals really wanted. “The wentals and the verdani have enough power to imprison them there. They could snuff them, but they need to achieve balance, not destruction. The wentals and the verdani have to neutralize them, not eliminate them.”

  Hundreds more tree-bubbles submerged themselves and their captives in the incandescent layers of the bloated sun. Somewhere deep inside, the elementals reached a point where they could seal the transgate in the stellar core, permanently cutting off the flow of emerging faeros.

  As the raging fireballs around the star grew more desperate, the wentals inside the Aquarius’s hold seemed ready to pry their way out through the hull plates. Nikko flew directly toward the firestorm.

  “What are you doing?” Caleb yelped.

  “Can’t you feel it?” Nikko hit the cargo doors and released all the wental water he carried. With an exuberant leap, the spray of elemental liquid spread out in a shimmering curtain. Before the faeros could dodge around the curtain, a second wave of tree-bubbles converged on them from behind, capturing fireballs before they could join the battle at Ildira.

  “Now, that’s satisfying,” Nikko said through a wash of adrenaline. Behind him, he saw many of his fellow water bearers doing the same. The innocuous-looking tree-bubbles continued to engulf and remove the faeros. The new synthesis of verdani and wental proved stronger than the flaming elementals.

  “I think we can call it a good day’s work,” Crim said. “And let’s get the hell out of here.”

  152

  Osira’h

  Adar Zan’nh, take me down to Mijistra — whatever is left of it,” said Mage-Imperator Jora’h. “I need to see the city with my own eyes.”

  Though apprehensive, the Adar was ready to face the disaster he had left behind. He and Osira’h had rushed away from the faeros without ever witnessing the carnage of the impact. “Yes, Liege.”

  Osira’h closed her eyes, already able to feel her siblings down there with Prime Designate Daro’h. She sensed how she, Rod’h, and the others could help the Mage-Imperator vanquish Rusa’h, and she was ready for it. But this would be far worse than facing the hydrogues again at Golgen. She opened her eyes, stepped forward to stand between her parents, and stared at the images of destruction on the viewscreen.

  As her father and Adar Zan’nh absorbed the magnitude of what had happened here, Osira’h could feel a wave of their dismay rush through the thism, strong enough to produce a stab of physical pain. Buildings had been flattened for kilometers: towers, museums, political buildings, warehouses, and habitation complexes — all collapsed and burned. The Prism Palace and its perfect elliptical hill had been ground zero for the immense crash; the grand structure, the hill, the seven symmetrical streams — everything was simply gone.

  “A part of me has died,” said Jora’h as he gazed in disbelief.

  “A part, yes. But not all.” Nira wept to see the holocaust, but she clasped his arm. “We will save the rest.”

  Osira’h spoke up. “We need to descend to the surface. They are all down there waiting for us.” She drew a deep breath. “I can do more against the faeros incarnate if I am with my brothers and sisters. Together, we can tap into a kind of strength that even the wentals cannot use.”

  Though the mist-swathed ships and the frozen projectiles had decimated the faeros, the danger was not over yet. Great numbers of fireballs continued to fly in all directions; vengeful and capricious, they struck wherever they could. The battle screens in the warliner’s command nucleus showed the constant clashes all around Ildira.

  Nira considered the images. “If Osira’h says it is what we must do, then I agree. After all, she was right about the hydrogues on Golgen.” She held up the treeling she had carried with her. “And now we have the verdani to help.”

  “Descend, then,” said the Mage-Imperator. “Much of our battle is yet to come. We will all fight against Rusa’h.”

  Flanked by a dozen intact warliners, the flagship descended into the atmosphere, flying toward the site of the capital city. Leaving Zan’nh in the command nucleus, Jora’h led Nira and Osira’h to the warliner’s docking bay, where they boarded a ready cutter. Piloted by one of the soldier kithmen, the small ship passed directly through the warliner’s hazy cocoon and fought its way down through the thermal turbulence in the air.

  On the way down, her father stared at the wrecked capital city, unable to protect the morality of his people by dampening the shock he experienced. Osira’h could also feel the lingering pain that resonated from all the Ildirans who had survived down below, though she sensed her half-breed brothers and sisters, along with Prime Designate Daro’h, trying to bolster the people. She directed the pilot to where tiny figures stood at the edge of the still-smoking ruins.

  As soon as the cutter landed and the hatch opened, Osira’h bounded out. The air burned her lungs; the whirl of fiery elementals overhead seemed to singe the very atmosphere. Grasses, bushes, and any remaining combustible wreckage had begun to smoke.

  Prime Designate Daro’h and Yazra’h ran forward, barely able
to believe that the Mage-Imperator had returned. When Osira’h’s brothers and sisters came to her, she grasped their hands and formed a mental circuit. Preparing herself, she retreated into her mind, then extended her thoughts outward, both to her father and to her siblings. She had to bind them all together. Tight . . . strong.

  The faeros incarnate was out there, a cauldron of fiery hatred, a nexus for the revived elementals. Osira’h could find him, too, and force him to come.

  She squeezed the hands of Rod’h on one side and Gale’nh on the other. Her two sisters completed the ring. “Like we did before,” she said. “Form a barrier that’s stronger than fire, stronger than thism.” As they worked, the air acquired an impermeability that stopped some of the worst heat. The children concentrated on the intangible connections that tied the whole race together. “Reach out and strengthen the soul-threads. Find the other Ildirans — all of them. Rusa’h has burned his own paths. Now it is time for us to undo them and weave our shield.”

  Using their exotic bridging abilities, Osira’h and her brothers and sisters isolated and cut off the connecting chains through which the faeros had entangled the soulfires they had stolen. The fiery elementals had traveled along those scorched pathways when they had ignited the thism to consume Ildiran souls. Now the five children erected roadblocks along those blackened lines. They severed intersections and sealed off pathways by which the flaming elementals could retreat, starving them of the soul energy on which they fed. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, blocking out the world around them so she could hone her concentration.

  But then Osira’h became aware of shouts nearby, cries of terror. The heat in the air increased to an unbearable level, penetrating their tenuous shield until she could feel her skin sizzling. A golden-orange light flared in front of her face, making her reel backward as a huge, angry fireball descended before them. Larger than any of the other faeros, it hovered close, a swollen, roaring knot of flames.

  Osira’h sensed the seething fury even before she saw the incandescent manlike figure inside. She held fast to her siblings, refusing to break contact.

  Rusa’h had answered their call.

  153

  Chairman Basil Wenceslas

  The shuttle pulled away from the still-frozen Klikiss swarmships, passing through the wreckage of the Earth Defense Forces and the maddeningly intact Confederation ships. Appalled, Basil worked his jaw but was unable to find words. He could guess exactly what must have happened — a treacherous ambush. At least the Goliath seemed intact.

  Ignoring the pilot, he took charge of the comm console and opened a direct channel to the EDF flagship Juggernaut. “General Brindle, what the hell happened? Why aren’t you firing on the Confederation warships?”

  The reply took longer than he expected, due to the chaos and confusion that still reigned aboard the EDF ships. Brindle sounded distracted. “Our ships were sabotaged, sir, most likely by the Klikiss robots. They must have booby-trapped our ships when they repaired them. We have ascertained that it was not in any way connected to the Confederation ships.”

  Basil knew Sirix was capable of doing such a thing, and in a way he was disappointed that he couldn’t blame Peter for the disaster. Regardless, he felt satisfied to have caused the destruction of all the black robots . . . even if the breedex did not seem grateful for the assistance. Enemies everywhere.

  Basil studied the motionless alien swarmship, considering what the Klikiss hive mind would do when it broke free of its mysterious paralysis. He might never have another chance like this. “General Brindle, are your weapons still functional?”

  “Yes, sir. The Goliath has full armaments, and nineteen other ships remain undamaged.”

  “Good. The hive mind is aboard the main swarmship. Destroy it, and you destroy the entire Klikiss threat. Let’s take care of this right now. Open fire with everything you have.”

  The General hesitated. “Initiate hostilities against the Klikiss? Sir, two-thirds of my fleet is gone!”

  Basil bridled. “Right now the breedex is crippled, and the insects can’t defend themselves. They’re not going to shoot back! If those unharmed Confederation ships have any balls, they’ll join the fight beside us. It’s what Peter always promises to do.”

  “Sir, in your absence King Peter has reclaimed the Whisper Palace. The people on Earth are . . . celebrating.”

  Basil felt as if an airlock had suddenly popped and depressurized the shuttle’s cabin. And was General Brindle pleased to deliver this news? Basil felt a rage swelling within him. “General, I gave you an order. Open fire on the Klikiss swarmship. I’ll deal with Peter myself.”

  Before the Juggernaut could launch its first volley, though, a transmission spread like a bombarding wave across all channels, as pervasive and overpowering as the first Klikiss broadcast that had demanded his presence. The volume was thunderous through the cockpit speakers, and this time it actually sounded like Davlin Lotze — his voice, his personality!

  “Chairman Wenceslas, I do not understand this weapon you used against us, but I am impressed. Dozens of my separate subhives have been incapacitated. Only a few remain functional.” A harsh undertone filled the speakers during a long pause before the breedex continued. “Many parts of my hive mind are now . . . offline. Klikiss parts. Therefore, I was able to reassert my influence.”

  Margaret Colicos pushed her way into the cockpit. “Davlin — you’ve got to stop the Klikiss advance. The One Breedex wants to exterminate humanity.”

  “Ah, Margaret. Many subhive remnants are stunned, and now my own mind controls them all. The Klikiss parts of the breedex are . . . safely locked away now.” Basil could clearly hear nuances of wry humor in the response. “I trust you’ll find my solution acceptable. Observe.”

  The swarmship began to come alive again, more ominous than ever. The components shifted and flickered. The once-paralyzed insect warriors were reawakening aboard the gigantic conglomeration vessels.

  The Davlin-breedex continued. “But you are not to be trusted, Mr. Chairman. I heard you give the order to destroy us while we were paralyzed. You are a danger to us. You have proved regrettably faithful to all of my expectations and memories of you.”

  Basil was alarmed. “Remember, I booby-trapped the black robots. I betrayed Sirix — destroyed them for you!”

  “It is not in your nature to be altruistic. No, you would have allowed the robots to fight us. Afterward, if any robots survived, you would have used the kill switch to wipe them out anyway, neatly taking care of both sides.”

  Basil froze. Davlin was right, of course.

  During the transmissions, the nine separate and enormous swarmships looming over Earth re-formed into a single incredible mass — shifting, fusing, and coalescing into one conglomerate sphere the size of a small moon. The other two swarmships that had pursued the black robots also returned and joined the main mass. Basil had never seen a single artificial unit so huge, with so much potential for destruction.

  The pilot looked at him In shock, as if sure the swarmships would open fire on them at any second.

  “You did exactly as I expected of you, Mr. Chairman.” The Davlin-breedex fell silent, and as Basil stared in awe at the inconceivably powerful conglomerate ship, he could think of no way to defend himself or justify his actions. The giant swarmship sent one last transmission. “You are more like the Klikiss than you know.”

  To Basil’s astonishment, the enormous vessel did not fire, did not attack the EDF battle group. Rather, the conglomerate unit hovered in place ominously for a long moment, then began to withdraw from Earth orbit, from the scattered and ruined EDF ships, and past the uneasy Confederation defensive line.

  Basil was stunned into silence.

  Margaret smiled. “It seems Davlin found a way to perform one last service for humanity — by saving us.”

  Anton breathed, “Thank you, Davlin.”

  The flickering, shifting vessel hauled itself out to the edge of the system. Basil watched it go,
feeling simultaneously giddy with relief and defeated. Like a swollen, swirling cloud of angry wasps, the last of the Klikiss headed out to open space. Gone . . . At last something was going right.

  A substantial part of him, though, wished General Brindle had just blown all the bugs into atoms. . . .

  A priority message came over the shuttle’s comm system, using overrides that only a handful of people knew. Deputy Cain. Basil gritted his teeth . . . another traitor.

  Cain’s pale face was bland, showing no emotion. “Mr. Chairman, I am glad to learn you’re safe and alive — and very pleased to see the Klikiss swarmships withdraw. Thank you for your efforts.”

  “You’ve got a lot to answer for, Cain. Why are you calling me?”

  The deputy smiled faintly. “King Peter requests your presence at the Whisper Palace to ensure an orderly transition of power. Please come as soon as possible.”

  154

  Mage-Imperator Jora’h

  Parting the flame curtains, Rusa’h emerged from his fireball to face them. His flesh was molten, his hair twisted like thick smoke, his eyes novas in his face. The faeros incarnate looked both furious and pleased to be standing before Jora’h. “At last I can save our entire race.”

  The Mage-Imperator merely stared at his brother. “You will do no more damage to the Ildiran people.”

  Rusa’h looked almost saddened, paternal. “You weakened the thism and nearly destroyed our Empire. I will take the strongest Ildirans to the Lightsource and save them with my faeros alliance.”

  Jora’h managed to take a step forward. “Save them?” Although the heat in the air was incredible, he could feel the half-breed children blocking much of it. “Whole refugee camps incinerated by the faeros? Ships full of Ildirans trying to evacuate blown out of the skies? Countless kithmen turned to ash when the faeros took over Mijistra? I see how you tried to ‘save them.’ Those were your people, Rusa’h. You were supposed to protect them.” Jora’h jabbed an accusing finger at him. “Now they are all dead.”