“I’m impressed,” she admitted, nodding to him. “Your operation is going to be the key to Deep Zone independence.”
“That has always been my goal,” Walfor said with a warm smile. “To impress you, I mean.”
Tanja focused her gaze on the new fleet, all the ships salvaged from old abandoned vessels. Smaller ones landed on the frozen spaceport yard, and others circled above the planetoid, seventy-five in all. “Are they ready to launch for Hellhole? The General is waiting.”
“One more day of shakedowns. Some weren’t in the best condition when they arrived.”
For years, Walfor’s people had acquired old colony ships from across the Deep Zone. Tanja admired how Walfor had seen an opportunity. He had taken those old ships, made them spaceworthy again, and operated his own black-market fleet completely independent of the Constellation. He refused to be beholden to the Diadem’s government.
“I’ll ride with them on the stringline to the Hellhole hub,” Tanja said. She liked to be hands-on, not an administrator who never left the office. Her uncle Quinn had been adamant about that. Quinn had taught her many things, made her who she was … but the man had been buried under incalculable tons of mud washed down in a monsoon.
Tanja considered Diadem Michella to be responsible for that tragedy as well. She felt a hollowness in her heart as she thought of how workers on Candela had been forced to strip-mine the unstable hills, cutting corners, working themselves to exhaustion in order to achieve the payment the Constellation demanded.
No, she felt no regret that the Crown Jewels were falling apart.
She shook the dark thoughts aside. “These new ships will greatly expand the General’s defenses. I want to see his face when we come to the rescue.”
“Before the Constellation fleet arrives, I hope.” Walfor snorted. “You don’t want to be there when the shots start flying.”
“If I could fire shots at the bastards myself, I’d be happy to. Better still if the old bitch is aboard, but she’ll never go far from her comfortable palace.” Tanja’s nostrils flared, and again she drew a deep breath to calm herself. The air inside the Buktu cave chamber seemed chilly and dry. “If I had the chance to wring the Diadem’s neck, I’d do it. She deserves it a thousand times over.”
As the planetary leader of Candela, Tanja saw too often how the decadent Crown Jewels preyed upon the fledgling Deep Zone worlds, how Michella demanded oppressive payments that nearly bankrupted the colonies, even though they had never wanted to be part of the Constellation.
For years the nobles had paid little attention to the DZ, interested only in their tribute. They didn’t think the frontier worlds would produce anything of particular note, but thanks to the hard work of the settlers, the Deep Zone was on the verge of thriving. Tanja’s engineers had discovered an extremely rich vein of iperion in the hills of Candela, a source of the stringline marker-material that was far more extensive than the played-out iperion mines on Vielinger. No one in the Constellation knew anything about the discovery, and Tanja had no intention of simply handing over the wealth.
Not when the DZ colonists could use it for themselves.
As she watched, two of Walfor’s finished ships lifted off the frozen spaceport plain to join seven others already waiting at the newly established stringline terminus over Buktu. Tanja mused, “Hellhole isn’t the only planet that needs to be guarded. I’d like a patrol force over Candela, too. If word gets out about my iperion mines, we would become a special target—”
Walfor made a magnanimous gesture, smiling as he half bowed. “For you, my lady, I’ll see to it that Candela gets ships.”
“Make sure everyone gets ships,” Tanja said. “With the DZ connected, and protected, we can have trade like the Constellation hasn’t seen in a thousand years. Now that I’ve got the Theser line established from my new hub, I’m launching a link to Cles as well. The more intertwined our stringline network becomes, the stronger we are, and the less vulnerable we’ll be to a single point of failure.” She knew full well that the Deep Zone could become a vibrant economy in very little time—provided the frontier planets didn’t need to worry about an attack from the Crown Jewels.
Walfor nodded. “We’ll make the old Crown Jewels irrelevant and never be driven through a single bottleneck like the one at Sonjeera.” A curl of white vapor bled out of the exhaust stack of one of the huge fuel tanks lined up outside the spaceport. “I expect good terms on setting up fueling stations at your hub.”
“And I expect good prices on stardrive fuel from Buktu.”
Walfor smiled again. “We’ll be quite a team. I look forward to working with you.”
“I look forward to having the Diadem rot in hell,” Tanja said. “There will be no peace until we accomplish that.”
5
Diadem Michella ruled from her imposing Sonjeera palace, whose structures and ornamental gardens covered more acreage than some capital cities on other worlds. During her long—some said too long—reign, the old woman had kept the noble families in line while enriching her closest allies beyond their dreams. But her pinnacle of success was being eroded by Adolphus’s outrageous new rebellion, by her own daughter’s betrayal, and by an infestation of aliens that threatened to contaminate human civilization.
She needed to deal with this nonsense swiftly. Ruthlessly.
Accompanied by Lord Selik Riomini, Supreme Commander of the Army of the Constellation, Michella climbed the palace’s central tower, an ornate and heavily fortified structure that included her impregnable keep and administrative offices. As they trudged up the marble steps, Michella continued the conversation, not at all winded. “My son-in-law just sent me the final schedule for the launch of the Constellation fleet. This should be a quick assault, an overwhelming victory, followed by a mop-up operation.” She shook her head. “But it’s taking too damned long to get going. What are your people doing?”
He was red-faced, more from being out of breath than shamed. “I expected the fleet to launch a week ago, Eminence, but don’t underestimate the effort of staging and launching such a huge military operation. I admit, it does appear Major Crais is being overly meticulous and cautious.” Dressed entirely in black, Riomini took several deep breaths before continuing in a voice that carried only echoes of his usual deep and confident tone. “I think he’s driving Redcom Hallholme a bit mad.”
“And me as well.” Michella scowled, pausing so that the Black Lord could catch up to her. “For a man so anxious to rescue Keana, Bolton doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. Good thing I already consider my daughter to be lost.”
Riomini sounded surprised. “Perhaps there’s a chance we can still rescue her, Eminence.”
Michella had made it clear that she wouldn’t grieve if her flighty child became a casualty of war. “She is brainwashed by aliens, probably contaminated by those loathsome things.” The Diadem shuddered at the memory of the hideous half-humanoid, half-caterpillar creature that had arrived along with the human emissaries sent by General Adolphus. When they were all killed, the alien had turned to slime. She did not regret for an instant her decisive reaction to sterilize the Deep Zone ship before the invader emissaries could unleash that awful plague on Sonjeera.
Riomini paused on the stairs beside her, grateful for the rest. “We could take one of the elevators, Eminence.” Michella was annoyed that, though he was three decades younger, he had let himself get badly out of shape.
“Every stair you climb adds a few seconds to your life.” Pushing on, she called over her shoulder, “If I climb enough stairs, I will live forever.” She stared down at his perspiring face and shook her head. “I need you to run the Army of the Constellation, Selik. I forbid you to drop dead here.”
Although she relied on Selik Riomini, she had never much liked him. Riomini fortunes had bankrolled the Constellation military, and old Lord Gilag Riomini had helped put her on the Star Throne when she was very young, but Selik was far too ambitious for her tastes. And far too anxious for
her to die.
The Black Lord controlled not only his own world of Aeroc where the Constellation fleet was currently being assembled, but also the old Adolphus family holdings and the Lubis Plain shipyards on Qiorfu and the former de Carre world of Vielinger. Yes, unquestionably ambitious. The Black Lord expected to become the next Diadem, as if it were his due. True, Michella saw no real alternative among the nobles, but she didn’t want him to think his appointment was assured. He had to earn it … and keep earning it.
Just to put him in his place, she pretended to sound sweet and concerned. “Will you be able to make it to the top, Selik?” He seemed too fatigued to catch the double meaning.
“Give me a moment.” He heaved several long breaths, then continued up the stairway, using his anger to drive him to the final floor.
She watched his deliberate pace, then trotted ahead of the huffing man, taunting him. Even though the view was breathtaking—Sonjeera’s rolling hills, the arboretum and parks, the fountains, the sprawling city—Michella had stopped noticing the panorama decades ago; she had other priorities.
When they reached her private office, Riomini slumped onto a settee, red faced and perspiring. He was still making excuses. “Eminence, the annihilation of General Adolphus and his rebels cannot be rushed or sloppy. We are making history. I wouldn’t be too concerned about whatever defenses the General might be able to cobble together.”
“He did trick me into sending his old mothballed fleet to Territorial Governor Goler, so those ships have fallen into enemy hands.” She sniffed, annoyed to be reminded about the turncoat Goler. How could one of her own governors switch sides and take up the banner of a monster like Adolphus?
Riomini dismissed her concerns, too. “Twenty-one old vessels cannot match the sheer might of the Constellation fleet. If he gets desperate enough, the General might blow the stringline to the Crown Jewels, but then he’d be cutting his own throat. How would his planet survive without outside supplies? He wouldn’t dare risk cutting the lifeline; his people would overthrow him in a week.” By now the Black Lord had caught his breath, and his face looked less flushed.
Michella made herself a cup of kiafa from an automated dispenser, offering none to Riomini; he could get his own if he wished.
“And even if he did sever the Sonjeera line,” Riomini continued, “we could travel a roundabout route via one of the other DZ worlds, then use the General’s own new stringlines to strike planet Hallholme.”
“Unless he cuts himself off from all of his own allies as well. And then every other Deep Zone world cuts their lines to Sonjeera, too.”
“Preposterous! That is never going to happen, Eminence.” The Black Lord took the initiative and procured his own kiafa. “Frankly, I am more worried that our delay will give Adolphus time to plan his escape.”
Michella’s eyes flashed. “Then we will hunt him down! On the run, he poses no military threat, and we can use the chase to rally my loyal subjects. People will be vigilant, they’ll see his shadow under every bed or inside every closet—and that may be a good thing.”
The Black Lord sat back on the settee. “I’ll make a quick trip to Vielinger to inspect my iperion mining operations, and return to the Sonjeera hub in time for the launching of the fleet.”
“Yes, nine days according to Major Crais,” she said. “Plenty of time to tend your little business operations.”
* * *
That evening, Michella took an ornamented autocarriage to the bustling Sonjeera spaceport, a place of buried secrets. Although she had enough to worry about, one other matter was of great concern to her: How dangerous was the threat of contamination from those disgusting aliens? She had ordered all the emissaries killed … but had it been enough? How insidious was their control?
After what she had seen inside that sealed passenger pod, the caterpillarlike monster, the possessed humans, the evidence of a telepathic power that had nearly torn open the armored craft, Michella had never been able to set aside her fears despite the most powerful security measures she could impose.
Though she hated the General, Michella understood his military rebellion, and she knew her Army of the Constellation could crush it. But what if those hideous creatures spread their possession throughout her Crown Jewel worlds?
Michella prided herself on her sharp mind, her physical fitness, her absolute fearlessness. But the aliens had become a chink in her mental armor. She would not admit her fear, but it was there. She was no longer utterly fearless. What if she lost everything—her mind and her body—to the aliens through possession? Her own daughter had become one of them.
The Diadem stepped out of the autocarriage, ignoring the man who opened the door for her. Michella stared at the sealed hangar where the alien creature and possessed humans had been entombed in thick epoxy like an ancient insect in amber. Was it enough?
Fernando-Zairic, the half-human spokesman for the doomed group visiting her, had reveled in his own contamination. Upon his arrival at Sonjeera, he had made no secret of the fact that he wanted to spread it across every inhabited planet in the Constellation.
Even with the whole hangar structure cocooned in impenetrable resin, she kept the area under heavy guard. She could not be too careful. Her aide Ishop Heer had reported on how many human converts the resurrected aliens had already made on planet Hallholme—including Keana. Even Ishop had been duped at the time, thinking the aliens were merely a hoax. Michella could not afford such a mistake again.
Now, responding to her summons, Ishop waited for her at the edge of the guarded zone. A husky man with a shaved scalp and alert green eyes, he looked as uncharacteristically anxious as she felt. She trusted his instincts, even though he had failed her (he didn’t do it often). Michella valued his skills and his loyalty. Though he was only a commoner, Ishop was adept at developing information on her political enemies, and always provided her with excellent advice.
“Don’t get too close to the hangar, Eminence,” he cautioned. “I don’t like either of us being here. Dangerous.”
“As I well know, Ishop.” She could not take her eyes from the encased building, knowing what was inside. “Do you have evidence that the containment integrity is failing? Or just concerns?”
“I always have concerns. If some vestige of the alien were to seep out of this building, there’s no telling how far the contamination might spread. It’s in the middle of Sonjeera.”
Michella swallowed in a dry throat. Ishop was the only person who truly shared her concerns about the potential horrors. He had been at her side, and the two of them had watched the dying alien dissolve into slime that oozed over the dead human converts. Michella shuddered—it had given her nightmares.
The Diadem remained standing close to the autocarriage, in case she needed to duck into the vehicle for an escape. Just coming out here in denial of her fear required a bravery she was beginning to regret.
Fastidious Ishop was even more worried than she was. “I know the creature and the converts are all dead. We watched the poison do its work. And yet I still feel an eerie alien presence lurking in the air around here.”
A cold sickness twisted in her stomach, but she kept her voice calm and offhand. “Maybe we should get rid of the ship, the bodies, the whole damned hangar. Incinerate everything. Vaporize the entire spaceport.”
She knew Ishop had already been pondering the question for some time. “Deep access tunnels and catacombs run beneath the spaceport, Eminence. We could excavate below the hangar, let the entire building drop underground, then pave it over and seal it away.”
The Diadem frowned. “Such action would create its own risks. What if the structure broke open and the contamination leaked out? What if it spread through the underground tunnels and got into the city? Much too dangerous, Ishop.”
“Seal the tunnels first.”
She shook her head. “I don’t like it.”
He gave a reluctant nod, then raised another big concern. “We both know that the real threat come
s from planet Hallholme. That’s where the alien infestation was discovered. Those creatures have undoubtedly corrupted the entire population there, and Adolphus has connected the Deep Zone with his new stringlines. We have every reason to believe the contamination is spreading across the frontier worlds. We should sterilize Hallholme with all due haste—before it’s too late.”
In her heart Michella knew that even his paranoia did not go far enough. By now, Adolphus and all his rebels could be hybrid aliens. “And maybe we should sterilize other Deep Zone worlds as well.”
Ishop was quick to agree. “Possibly even all of them.”
6
At the Michella Town Spaceport, a drizzle of alkaline-smelling rain misted General Adolphus’s face as he watched a sky full of ships: Seventy-five former Constellation vessels, repaired and refitted on Buktu, dropped from the main DZ stringline hub in orbit. With their landing struts down, the spacefaring vessels resembled fat beetles.
Beside him, Sophie smiled and said, “Looks like Walfor came through for us.” She held up her display clipboard. “I already factored these ships into our expanded inventory. We can put up a hell of a fight now.”
General Adolphus would pit his military skill against any enemy commander. He had already placed a large force in orbit to guard both stringlines—the terminus ring from the Crown Jewels and the major new hub that anchored his entire DZ stringline network. The Diadem would never expect that he could marshal so many defenses.
Even so, he knew it was only enough to delay, or at best stalemate, the Constellation fleet. Not enough to defeat it.
But if his plan worked, he wouldn’t need to fight at all.
Once the Urvanciks and Dak Telom came through, he would have all the specifics to choreograph and finalize his careful plans, add all the logistical punctuation, and set the wheels in motion.…
Hellhole Awakening Page 3
