Hellhole: Awakening (5 page)

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.…

When the spaceport dust had settled, the General and Sophie ventured among the refurbished vessels. They were of varying colors, some black, some silver, others garishly painted. A number of the hulls had obvious patches and dents; four looked pristine, as if they had just come off the assembly lines. Given the luxury of time, the General would have repainted them all. It was a point of military precision and efficiency to show unified colors, demonstrating that they were a unified Deep Zone Defense Force, but he could not waste the effort now. The vessels could fight; that mattered more than cosmetic appearances.

Scruffy pilots emerged from the landed ships, milling around, stretching their legs, breathing the dusty air. Ian Walfor stepped from the undercarriage lift of one of the newer ships, accompanied by Tanja Hu. While Tanja was hard-edged and beautiful, Walfor looked as rumpled as a comfortable set of clothes. He had weathered skin, wavy dark hair, and a larger-than-life personality. This man’s audacious plans to run old faster-than-light ships among the DZ worlds had laid the groundwork for the General’s own transportation network.

Adolphus regarded the fittings and the lines of the vessels. “Some of these ships look fresh out of spacedock.”

Walfor stepped forward and shook the General’s hand. “They’ll get nicked up in battle soon enough. I’d appreciate it if you don’t wreck too many of them.”

“I’ll do my best, Mr. Walfor.”

Tanja Hu looked very serious, and her voice had a sharp edge, as always. Adolphus had not seen her truly relaxed in several years. “Most of these ships are ready for frontline duty right now. Six more need new stardrives from Theser, and we’ll take them directly there for installation. I’ve got to meet with Administrator Frankov anyway.”

Sophie stepped forward with her organizational clipboard. “I’ve worked up a list of the DZ worlds most likely to be threatened by direct Constellation attack, and the General and I have some ideas about how to distribute these new ships, but I’ll want a breakdown of the total weapons complement, so I can decide how to divide them up.”

“You’re not keeping them here to protect Hellhole?” Walfor sounded surprised.

Adolphus gave a small shake of his head. “We know this planet is the Diadem’s main target, but other DZ administrators demand defenses as well. Many of them were swept along in this rebellion without having any say in the matter. Understandably, they are feeling very vulnerable right now.”

“Vulnerable … and unreliable,” Sophie said with a quiet snort.

“They know what the old bitch will do to them.” Tanja looked as if she had swallowed something sour. “Governor Goler told everyone what really happened at the Ridgetop Recovery. Once the six vessels get new engines from Theser, I’m going to place them at Candela—enough to scare off any Constellation attack ships.” Her eyes flashed. “Better yet, enough to destroy them.”

Sophie said, “There aren’t enough ships to give each DZ world a complete defense force. We have to hope Michella doesn’t hit random frontier planets just to make a point.”

“As far as Diadem Michella is concerned,
I
am the point,” the General said. “Her own military isn’t large enough to fight a war on all those fronts. For now, her obsession with me gives the rest of the Deep Zone a certain measure of safety. From basic intel, we know she’s sending a massive force here, and we’re getting more details soon. That’s all I need.”

“I hope so, General. If you’re defeated, where does that leave the rest of us?” Tanja asked.

Walfor flashed a bitter smile. “My dear, you
know
where it’ll leave us. That’s why we have to make sure the General doesn’t fail.”

“I won’t fail,” Adolphus said.

*   *   *

Sophie was still trying to accept the radical changes in her son, now that he had immersed himself in slickwater and taken on a new Xayan personality. Devon and his girlfriend Antonia had been desperate, trying to escape a horrific and tragic situation. Sophie feared she had lost her son, and Adolphus could see her obvious pain.

But he also recognized the opportunities. As shadow-Xayans, Devon and Antonia had extraordinary powers of what the aliens called telemancy, and they were now training many of their fellow converts to help in defending Hellhole.

When the two sent word that they were prepared to demonstrate the powerful defenses they and other shadow-Xayans had developed, General Adolphus was eager to see what they could do. Despite his best efforts, the standard defenses that he could cobble together might not be sufficient, but the alien telemancy might give him an immeasurable advantage.

If the converts could learn how to combine their powers in time.

Tanja Hu and Ian Walfor joined him to witness the demonstration before departing for Candela. Adolphus led the group out to the primary shadow-Xayan settlement near a thick grove of resurrected alien red weed. More than a thousand converts lived there, united by their common alienness—all had acquired Xayan personalities from the slickwater pools. The shadow-Xayans still looked human, but their mannerisms were peculiar.

Devon-Birzh and Antonia-Jhera had brought hundreds of their trained comrades together in the center of the red-weed forest. They had used their telemancy to create an expansive clearing, driving back the vigorous foliage. Now the scarlet leaves waved in the air like kelp fronds in a sea.

Whenever he looked at Sophie’s son, Adolphus couldn’t help but feel sadness for how much she had lost. Devon was no longer simply the bright, wide-eyed young man she had raised as a single mother, now that he carried the weight of another entire life within his memories. But the changes were not entirely bad. After acquiring the Birzh personality, he claimed to have matured in immeasurable ways. He still had his original personality, and so much more. As lovers, he and Antonia—and Birzh and Jhera—were connected soul to soul in a way that surpassed any other relationship.

As the party arrived at the thriving red thicket at the fringes of the clearing, Devon greeted the General in an ancient voice that did not belong in such a young throat. “Creating and maintaining this clearing invigorates us and steels our collective will. This exercise helps strengthen our telemancy.” He extended his hands out to his sides and gestured to the quivering barricade of fleshy red weed. The plants trembled, as if straining against an invisible barrier. Devon smiled at it. “It is a trivial gesture for so many telemancers. Let us show you that we can do much more.”

Antonia was close beside him, as always. Her eyes had a sparkling, spiral sheen as she spoke of the spiritual goal of the aliens. “And as we practice our telemancy, it brings us all closer to
ala’ru
.”

To the General, the Xayan push toward a higher plane of existence was mysterious, incomprehensible, but he had agreed to let them make every effort; in exchange, the aliens had not challenged the human colony, graciously telling Adolphus that his people were welcome to the world after they achieved
ala’ru
.

And they would help protect Hellhole in the meantime.

At the edge of the clearing, the leathery weed fronds waved, then parted like curtains drawn by invisible strings as two inhuman forms glided forward on rows of caterpillar legs. Like a pair of centaurs, the two Original Xayans had humanoid torsos, but from the waist down the Xayan bodies were segmented and wormlike. Their smooth heads sported large black eyes and vibrating membranes where the mouths should have been. From the spotted patterns along the soft, gelatinous hides, Adolphus identified the two female aliens named Tryn and Encix.

Although thousands of human converts had acquired Xayan memories and personalities from the slickwater pools, only three of the Originals remained alive. The big male named Lodo worked in the underground museum bunker with Keana-Uroa and Cristoph de Carre to discover and document Xayan history, but these two Originals had come out to witness the telemancy demonstration.

As the pale caterpillar aliens approached, Walfor muttered, “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to seeing those things.”

“Those
things
are our allies,” Sophie said.

“I want to see how they can use their powers to stop a military attack.” From Tanja’s expression, she was already viewing the aliens, and alien-possessed humans, as an army.

Preparing for the demonstration, as ordered, Craig Jordan and a group of veteran soldiers had set up artillery pieces and explosive launchers on one side of the wide clearing. Jordan smiled. “They’ve improved considerably, sir. This little party will be under realistic conditions.”

Sophie flashed a glance toward her son and asked the security chief, “You’re using live ammunition?”

“Nothing they can’t easily deflect.” Jordan whistled to the soldiers, and they scurried to prepare their weapons. He lowered his voice, dismissing Sophie’s concern, “Look, ma’am, if they can’t stop a little problem like that, they won’t be much good protecting the whole planet.”

“That’s still my son you’re shooting at,” she said.

When Antonia spoke, her voice sounded much stronger than the battered young woman who had fled to Hellhole. Jhera’s voice. But her lips also quirked in a normal,
human
smile. “Don’t worry about us, General. We’ve practiced this many times.”

Adolphus nodded. “The shadow-Xayans have to be ready for a real attack.”

Devon-Birzh and Antonia-Jhera guided three hundred shadow-Xayans to stand side by side on the opposite side of the clearing, a ragtag group with whatever clothes they’d brought along, including some fabrics made from the processed red weed. But they moved in a smooth, symbiotic unison more perfect than the General had seen in his best-trained troops during his original rebellion.

The shadow-Xayans showed no fear as they faced a pair of large artillery guns two hundred meters away. A thrum of telemancy hung around them, making a perceptible disturbance in the air.

Jordan did not hide his anticipation. “Watch this, sir.”

Encix and Tryn simply observed this particular demonstration and did not participate. From prior demonstrations, the new converts had shown they were able to summon greater mental power than even the Originals themselves possessed—a kind of hybrid vigor. Tryn, the smallest of the remaining awakened aliens, seemed willing to add her mental powers to the maneuvers, but Encix held her companion back. Adolphus still could not read the alien expressions, but he felt that Encix—who was ostensibly the leader of the surviving Originals—was skeptical of what the converts were doing.

When Devon called out to his volunteers, his human personality came to the fore and took charge. The alien converts pressed closer together in ranks and held their splayed hands out to touch the fingers of the person on either side of them. The mental charge crackled in the air.

Adolphus and his companions stepped behind the artillery guns, out of the danger zone, and the two hulking Originals glided over to join them on the sidelines. “As they learn to combine their telemancy,” Encix said, “we draw closer to the skill and power we need for
ala’ru
.”

“And your race is welcome to do so,” Adolphus said, “as long as you help me stop the Constellation first.”

His security chief gestured, impatient. “Ready, General. Watch—they won’t even break a sweat.” For preparation, he ordered one of the artillery guns to fire downrange and over the heads of the congregated shadow-Xayans. As the explosive projectile soared overhead, it veered even farther away, as if it had bounced off a shield around the group.

“That was just a test.” Jordan laughed and turned to the man at the weapons controls. “Now aim for the target!”

The gunner adjusted the angle of the large barrel until it pointed directly at the mass of shadow-Xayans standing in the clearing. Adolphus tensed. Even though he knew this group had practiced the same test many times, it still looked like it would be a massacre. Sophie turned pale.

But Devon himself signaled the gunner, looking confident, and the artillery piece thumped with the explosive launch and recoil. The second artillery shell hurtled toward the crowd of peaceful-looking, calm converts. But the projectile recoiled in the air, as if yanked by an invisible leash, deflected up over their heads, pirouetted in the air, and plunged down into the dense red foliage behind them. Flames and debris shot up in a rooster tail of spray, spreading across the dense vegetation; not even a crumb managed to land in the protected area.

Jordan whistled and clapped his hands. “See, nothing to be concerned about. They’ve practiced this daily without getting so much as a scuffed knee.” The shadow-Xayans did not cheer their own victory, though, but remained in their placid rows; Devon and Antonia smiled at the head of the group, waiting for the next shot to come at them.

When the cannon fired a third shell, the shadow-aliens not only diverted the projectile, but teasingly sent it speeding back toward the small military force. Walfor yelped, dragged Tanja to safety (to her embarrassment)—but the converts deflected the artillery shell from the gunners at the last possible moment.

Adolphus nodded, impressed. He preferred careful planning, standard military maneuvers, and superior firepower, but he would not turn down a secret weapon. “Are they strong enough to shield Michella Town against a bombardment from space? Or even deflect a landing enemy fleet?”

Jordan kept smiling. “They will be.”

Standing beside them, Encix bowed her smooth head and said in a begrudging voice, “They are better at controlling their psychic powers in a joint operation. Previously, they could only react. Now they can manipulate. Telemancy should not be wasted, however. Their powers would be better devoted to
ala’ru
.”

“Not wasted,” Adolphus said. “This could be our best line of defense.”