Hellhole (69 page)

But Keana realized that this new aftershock had nothing to do with the long-ago asteroid impact. It was because of something that had just occurred. This was different . . . sickening. In the entire shadow-Xayan village, half of the buildings had collapsed.

Separated from the acolyte telemancers who had been concentrating in their spiral, Keana saw Encix standing with three of the most powerful shadow-Xayans. The Original alien had come from the mountain vault to visit the new city built by the converts, and now this disaster had struck. As Encix concentrated, phantom swirls of light, glowing chains, and showers of sparks crackled in the air and shored up some of the freeform edifices, reinforcing their integrity and preventing further destruction. Encix’s alien face thrummed with agony and grief. Her facial membrane contorted and the motions of her arms and hands were graceless. Although the other two Originals, Lodo and Tryn, remained inside the mountain vault, Keana was sure they had received the same painful shock.

Keana struggled to her knees and looked around, gasping; inside her, the presence of Uroa was stunned with disbelief. “They’re dead,” Uroa said inside her head. “Cippiq is murdered. Zairic is murdered. The entire delegation. The Diadem killed them all!”

Keana knew that her mother was indeed capable of such treachery, cruelty, and ruthlessness. She found herself shaking uncontrollably and saw others reeling with the knowledge of what the Constellation had done.

“This time their lives are not stored in a slickwater pool,” Uroa said. “They are truly gone.”

M
ichella had no regrets.

Standing outside the secure hangar, breathing hard after her very close escape, the Diadem looked back at the heavy metal doors that had been hauled into place. She and a panicked Ishop, along with the guards who could run swiftly enough, had evacuated when the monstrous aliens tried to bash their way out of their confinement. Her fears had been correct.

As soon as she raced outside into the bright sunlight, holding her breath to avoid inhaling any of the released poisons or insidious alien toxins, she made frantic gestures – which Ishop correctly translated. He cried out to the guards. “Seal the hangar completely, before any contamination escapes!”

He helped slam the big door shut, yelling at the soldiers who hesitated because their comrades were inside. Anyone still inside must be sacrificed, for the good of Sonjeera, for the good of the Constellation. Michella drew in a deep gasp when she could hold her breath no longer. “Seal it . . . seal it all! Don’t let anything out!”

In a blindingly fast action, the standby security personnel encircled the building and sprayed the doors, windows, and even the smallest cracks with thick epoxy sealant, slathering it over to prevent any possible leaks. In a matter of minutes, the whole hangar was encased in a heavy, impenetrable cocoon.

Ishop ran back to her, his bald pate oily with perspiration, his skin flushed. “Eminence, I’ve tuned this to the codecall channel inside the pod.” He handed her a portable screen.

Now that the contamination was safely locked down, she could concentrate on the images of the victims on the floor of the pod. Though the hull was twisted and the windowports shattered, their escape attempt had completely failed, and now they lay still. The dead slug alien looked disgusting, dissolving into a puddle of ooze on the deck that seeped up against the contorted human bodies.

Dangerous . . . very dangerous. “And they almost got loose,” she gasped.

The slickwater converts did not merely suffer from mass hysteria – they were all truly under an irreversible, dangerous alien influence.

After hearing the Xayan guru’s frightening nonsense, Michella was convinced that his message – his disease – must not spread throughout the Constellation. And seeing the actual hideous alien that General Adolphus had dug up on his exile world gave her further justification for her actions. The bizarre cult had already run amok on Hallholme, and she could not allow it to spread here to Sonjeera. She had to stop it for the stability of her reign . . . and she could use the situation to her political advantage.

By squashing these so-called emissaries, Michella would hinder General Adolphus in his plans to destroy the legitimate government. Maybe he had been deluded or brainwashed as well . . . but she didn’t need excuses to explain his treacherous behavior.

“You were right not to let them speak further with you, or anyone else, Eminence,” said Ishop Heer. He looked queasy. “Why expose yourself to such risk?”

“It was an alien plot against all of humanity.” She thought again of the sturdy hull that had been bent and twisted by the sheer force of their minds. “Did you see the damage they caused, the destructive power? They almost escaped, Ishop!” She firmed up her voice, already imagining how it would sound when she addressed the nobles of the Crown Jewels. “And General Adolphus has formed an unholy alliance with those disgusting creatures
to destroy humanity
. This goes far beyond even his crimes during the rebellion.”

Ishop smiled, as he saw what she was doing. “Yes, Eminence, your harsh response was perfectly justified.”

“Yes, it was. Everyone will agree.”

Contemplating the situation, she considered cracking through the protective barrier, and sending in probes to take samples for analysis – cell scrapings and fluids, as her experts would demand. Constellation scientists would still want to dissect the remains and study the residue from the dissolved alien creature, but she didn’t intend to let them. The risk of contamination, of accidents, of human error was too great.

In fact, she would insist that Ishop Heer undergo a thorough evaluation. He had been there at the slickwater pools . . . what if he’d been contaminated somehow? She narrowed her eyes. The aliens could have planted him here as an insidious covert operative . . . What if he’d already passed on the infection to her?

No, she decided. Not him. She had never known anyone so loyal.

“See that the entire hangar is sterilized and encased in plexite, Ishop. Fill the interior with resin, wall up the outside.” She paused. “This is a quarantine zone. Post round-the-clock guards and install self-destruct incineration charges all around the building. I want to discourage anyone from tampering with it.”

“As you wish, Eminence. But even if you contain this danger zone, it doesn’t eradicate the contamination on Hallholme.”

She steadied herself. “We will take care of the General in our own way. The Army of the Constellation launches soon.” Straightening her gown and adjusting her coif, she drew a deep breath. “And now that this ordeal is over, I think I’ll have lunch.”

Michella took a last glance at her screen to see the interior of the pod, where the bodies lay sprawled. As she watched, even the human figures began to soften and slump into goo, dissolving just as the hideous alien had. She shuddered; yes, indeed, they were all contaminated. Before long, the corpses were unrecognizable grisly bits of flesh and bone in a viscous stew mixed with the slime exuded by the dying slug creature.

She felt a twinge in her stomach and a reflex that made her gag. Michella vowed to eat a fine lunch anyway, if for no other reason than to prove to herself how strong she could be, and how much she deserved to rule the Constellation.

On her way to her waiting vehicle, she paused and turned back to Ishop. “Compose a story about how the delegation from Hallholme died in an unfortunate accident. Let me sign off on the content before you disseminate it. I may want to improve on your words.”

When Ishop looked hurt, she winked at him, an afterthought that was her form of apology. Though she had treated him badly before, he was genuinely her most loyal aide. Ishop was too useful, and she wanted no gulf between them. As she walked away, the Diadem’s step was brisk, not like an old woman but like a vibrant, determined leader.

A
fter years as a linerunner maintaining the Constellation string-lines, Turlo Urvancik found it refreshing to work for someone who knew what he was doing – someone he and his wife could believe in.

Following his declaration of independence, General Adolphus had pulled him and Sunitha from the new DZ network and moved the
Kerris
back to the original terminus point from the Sonjeera line. They would be heading out on their old route.

“We have time, but not much,” the General said. “For good or ill, the Diadem will feel compelled to respond with extreme force, and we have to be ready for her when she does.”

“We’ll do everything we can, sir,” Turlo promised. “Just give us the order.”

Since switching sides, he had noticed that his wife looked harder and more determined, more fiery than Turlo had ever seen her. Sunitha said, “It’s the least we can do for our son’s memory. We always considered ourselves good citizens. We never doubted the Diadem –
believed
her smiles – and now, the very thought of her disgusts me.”

“Yes, General,” Turlo said. “She deceived us all, and countless families like ours. How many other parents have private memorials for their fallen sons and daughters? How many other families believed the propaganda, and suffered for it?”

General Adolphus gave them his solemn promise. “If it is within my power, no more of them will.”

Leaving Hellhole for what might be the most important run of their careers, Turlo and Sunitha flew along the Sonjeera stringline, following the iperion path they had so lovingly maintained as their duty for the Constellation. They both had the sense that they were taking significant action, that they would be a fundamental part in the long-overdue changes, rather than just being swept along by events . . .

Two days out from Hellhole, they arrived at the large power-generating substation and the iperion collimator. Turlo decelerated the
Kerris
, disengaged the vessel from the stringline, and powered down. To wait.

“I never set out to be a hero, you know,” he said aloud. “All of our lives, we’ve trained for just the opposite.”

Sunitha’s expression softened, and her eyes glittered with moisture. “Anyone who sets out with a life plan to become a hero is on a fool’s mission. But if you’re a good person, a strong person, you could become a hero when circumstances demand it.” She smiled stiffly. “Like now.”

“Up until today, it hasn’t seemed particularly worthwhile to put my neck on the line. It’s a new feeling, a satisfying one.” He began to understand the fervor and optimism Kerris had felt when he signed up for service – though their son had lost that dedication and drive before his shameful, unnecessary death.

Turlo anchored the linerunner in place so that Sunitha could suit up – her turn this time – and go outside to install the explosive charges. Should the need arise, at a single command from the General, they could cut the long-established stringline and maroon any ships that were en route from Sonjeera.

After all the years they had spent maintaining this line, Turlo hoped it wouldn’t come to that. But he had long since surrendered his naïve belief that the Constellation government would respond rationally.

I
shop and Laderna Nell hovered close to a security door, from which they could discreetly watch the lords and ladies take their seats to hear the Diadem’s speech. Ishop was sure this revelation would shake them even more than her recent declaration of war.

He knew exactly what she was going to say, having offered her a carefully crafted statement that described how a “tragic accident” had taken the lives of the Hallholme delegation and the alien creature. She’d barely scanned the words, however, before tearing the paper in half and handing him the pieces.

“I won’t need this, Ishop.” He hadn’t expected her to. “I’ve decided that we will not mince words. Cover ups are for cowards. We carried out a necessary action to eliminate a threat to the Constellation and the human race.” She gave him her warmest grandmotherly smile. “I want everyone to understand my righteous indignation. After this speech today, no one will doubt the justness of my cause or the deadliness of my purpose. We shall stand against potentially violent fanatics, mind-controlling alien creatures, and the greatest enemy humanity has ever had – General Tiber Maximilian Adolphus.”

“And so, Eminence . . . Princess Keana is forfeit?” He could barely keep the smile from his face.

“Everyone on Hallholme is forfeit.”

He hung his head. “I am sorry to hear it.”
Another name to be crossed off the list
. After Keana, that would leave four . . .

Now, as the audience gathered to hear her and media imagers recorded every moment, he waited with building joy. He scanned the nobles gathered in their seats, unnerved by the crisis that threatened to shake their stagnant lives. Soon enough, Ishop would join those respected noble representatives in the Council chamber as one of them – but not until he finished his little business of revenge. And since Princess Keana would pay the necessary price for the Duchenet family, he could continue to make himself indispensible to the Diadem. There was no conflict of interest. Everything fitted so neatly together. He wondered which seat would be his . . .

Laderna leaned close. “If the Diadem does launch a war against the Deep Zone, the members of many noble families will enlist simply to make a name for themselves. We’ll have ample opportunities to cause an accident here and there, maybe a lethal radiation exposure or a bit of friendly fire. By the time this conflict is over, boss, the landscape of noble bloodlines will look quite different. You’ll have plenty of room to maneuver.”

He kissed her on the cheek, which made her flush with pleasure. “I admire your methodical mind, Laderna, but I’ll be glad to have the list finished, so we can move on to more ambitious things.” He shushed her before she could say more. Michella had entered through the main door and made her way to the dais and the Star Throne.

Without notes or a holographic word-prompter, the old woman glowered around the chamber, as if searching for details that displeased her. The entire Council fell into a hush. These lords, ladies, and officials knew something of her moods, as Ishop did.