Hellhole: Awakening (6 page)

Encix sounded dismissive. “If necessary, we will help protect Xaya against Constellation attack. Increasing the number of shadow-Xayans is our only hope of gathering enough power to achieve our ascension. But we do not have much time.”

Tryn suggested, “If more humans were to immerse themselves in the slickwater, then we would have more telemancy available to defend this planet. And more converts to help us achieve
ala’ru
.”

Encix agreed. “More volunteers should accept Xayan lives and personalities. So many of our people remain to be awakened from the pools.”

Adolphus felt torn, especially after Devon and Antonia had surprised them by becoming converts. “The people have been encouraged,” he said. “But I won’t force them.”

Having concluded their demonstration, Devon and Antonia bowed, then all of the converts did the same in perfect unison. A relieved Sophie ran to her son, gave him a long hug. The young man seemed stiff for a moment, then his own personality reasserted itself and he returned the embrace, but still looked embarrassed. Like a normal twenty-year-old.

Devon and Antonia said their farewells and stood shoulder to shoulder, their youthful faces raised to the sky, eyes closed. Using telemancy, they levitated themselves off the ground, arms outstretched at their sides. “We need to return to our settlement to plan the next exercise, General.”

Behind them, like the finale of a well-choreographed performance, the first line of shadow-Xayans also used their joint telemancy to lift themselves into flight. Then the next row, and the next rose, into the air. With perfect timing, they all accelerated away headfirst, in formation. The shadow-Xayans streaked across the sky like a flock of large migrating birds.

Adolphus stared after them, and Craig Jordan shook his head. “I never get used to them doing that.”

As the two Original aliens stood next to the General at the artillery piece, Encix grew more intense. “We have pondered the danger posed by the Constellation fleet, General Tiber Adolphus. When Diadem Michella Duchenet killed Cippiq and Fernando-Zairic, she proved that she would not hesitate to exterminate us as well as you. We cannot allow that. There is too much at stake.”

“No argument from us,” Ian Walfor interjected.

“We did not understand that a leader would actually do such a thing,” Tryn said. “We had no quarrel with the Constellation government, but we failed to comprehend the factions of humanity. Now we see them clearly.”

Sophie added in a pragmatic voice, “If you want to achieve your
ala’ru,
first you’ll have to survive.”

“Five centuries ago, we Xayans could not save ourselves from the asteroid impact,” Encix said. “Now Diadem Michella Duchenet intends to destroy the remaining Xayans.”

“And us as well,” Adolphus said.

“There is a difference,” Encix said. “If such an attack happens, your
race
will not become extinct. Ours will.”

Tryn said, “At least some of us must be protected, no matter what happens to this world.”

Adolphus tried to understand what they were asking. “Do you need to build another vault? Or seal yourselves in the existing one again?”

“This time, General Tiber Adolphus, we have another option,” Tryn continued. “Previously, when the asteroid came in, we could not flee to safety. I wish to take a group away from this planet, using your stringline ships. Some of us can be far from the threat of Constellation retaliation. Will you let us establish a seed colony of shadow-Xayans on another world? At least temporarily?”

“Makes sense not to put all your eggs in one basket,” Sophie said. “Some clichés hold true.”

“But I thought you needed all of the converts together to grow closer to
ala’ru,
” Adolphus said.

“When our seed colony is established, our telemancy should extend across space, forming lines much like your iperion paths so we can remain in contact with our people,” Tryn said. “We will still be strong. And safer.”

Tanja Hu spoke up, “After what I just saw, you’re welcome on Candela. I’ll grant you a place where you won’t be disturbed, so long as you promise to come to our aid if we are attacked. I’ll set it up and send for your group as soon as I return from Theser.”

Adolphus was surprised by her quick offer, and Tanja looked at him, “I’ve got my own new stringline hub at Candela to worry about. If I can’t have enough warships to protect my planet, maybe alien telemancy can do the trick.”

Tryn bowed in gratitude. “We accept your offer, Administrator Tanja Hu. I will gather one hundred shadow-Xayans and accompany them to Candela, where we will remain out of danger until the Constellation conflict is resolved.”

“Do it,” Adolphus said.

7

Lord Selik Riomini carried himself with a pride he had earned by virtue of his position. His black-clad female bodyguards, every one a deadly killer, escorted him from the landed aerocopter; their menacing demeanor had been earned through ruthless training and fighting prowess. Like a hunting pack, they crossed the grounds of his lavish new manor house on Vielinger. The spoils of victory.

After thorough political machinations and a carefully exploited scandal against the hapless de Carre family, the Riominis had acquired the planet along with its dwindling iperion operations. He had begun to amass quite a collection: his own world of Aeroc, the former Adolphus planet of Qiorfu, and now Vielinger and the iperion mines. But it wasn’t enough.

Lord Riomini had no interest in living in the old de Carre manor house, believing it too encumbered with memories of failure, so he had selected a far better location for his secondary home. Perched high on a hill overlooking a verdant river valley and forested hills, the new estate had plenty of room for a landing field and military defenses. The late Lord Louis de Carre had not worried about such things, to his misfortune. No one would ever take Vielinger from the Black Lord.

While the major iperion deposits had been excavated during the boom years when Diadem Michella created the stringline network, even the played-out mines promised to generate enormous income. As iperion supplies dwindled, the price would skyrocket, and Riomini coffers would fill to bursting.

Money led to power, and power led to money. It was a complex dance, and he was the choreographer. Riomini came from a long line of noblemen, including several Diadems, and he expected to take the Star Throne soon enough.

As he approached the high-arched entrance to the mansion, the carved goldenwood doors opened smoothly. As a precaution, he waited in the entryway with three of his female guards while the rest scurried ahead to secure the house. After they pronounced the residence safe, Lord Riomini strode inside.

Much construction progress had been made since the last time he’d visited. Ceiling murals had been crafted by the finest artists and gold filigree applied to the high moldings; only the interior wall painting and tile work remained to be done. Good. He approved of efficiency.

A woman appeared at the top of the main staircase. She wore a black uniform like the other bodyguards, except she had added a red blouse under the jacket coat as a defiant flash of color. While Gail Carrington was in his offices and homes, Riomini permitted her the eccentricity. But never on public duty.

She descended the steps with fluid, catlike movements, not like a fine lady but like a stalking predator. She had short brown hair, a lean, wiry figure, and deadly reflexes from her training. A decade ago, she’d been Riomini’s lover—a most energetic and satisfying one—but he had ended the affair, with her assent, for pragmatic reasons. Complicated feelings might adversely affect her ability to protect him, and that was paramount.

Until recently, she had been the leader of his guards, but upon reaching the age of forty, she submitted her resignation, claiming that she no longer had the necessary strength and reflexes. (Riomini remained convinced she could kill anything that might threaten him.) Nevertheless, he promoted Carrington to be his most trusted aide; he wanted her close by.

Though she was no longer, technically, a military officer, Gail gave him a crisp salute. Her intense eyes were a striking shade of blue. “My Lord, I gave the job foreman a list of minor problems I found with the construction quality. They will be fixed soon.”

“I have no doubt of it, but building inspections are not your duty. I placed you in charge of overseeing my iperion mines.” Gail was not a miner or businessperson, but he needed someone loyal to watch over the critical resource; he trusted her ability to choose the right people around her.

“Everything about Riomini operations is my duty, sir. Every thread is connected.” She led him down the corridor to his new office, modeled after his offices on other Riomini holdings; he liked the consistency. Inside, he settled into his familiar-seeming desk chair and motioned for Gail to take a seat across from him. The rest of the female guards remained outside.

“Under my careful supervision, the iperion mines have already surpassed the level of production under the de Carres. The process lines are no longer so sloppy,” she said. “And the persistent accidents have ceased.”

Now that we’ve ceased causing them,
he thought. Frequent tragedies and sabotage had cast a pall of mismanagement on the de Carre family; the young lordling Cristoph de Carre had been shamed by the continual mishaps, while his father brought disgrace to the household through his ill-advised affair with Keana Duchenet. Incompetent, oblivious fools! Even without Riomini intervention, the whole operation would have collapsed sooner or later. Much better the way Riomini had accomplished the transition. Much quicker …

He skimmed the production figures Carrington presented. As usual, everything appeared to be in order. “That is excellent news, because iperion supplies have become even more vital to our military plan. Once our fleet crushes General Adolphus and seizes his new DZ network, we’ll need to maintain those stringlines as well. Demand for iperion will double.”

Gail looked at him for a long moment, letting her silence hang in the air; he knew she had something important to say, but she seemed disappointed that he didn’t follow her train of thought. “The question arises, my Lord—when Adolphus created such a vast new network, how did he lay down the stringlines in the first place?”

He thought for a moment. “I presume he used his own trailblazer ships. Such craft would be easy to obtain.”

“Not the trailblazers, sir, but the
iperion.
Where did Adolphus get the iperion in the first place? It certainly didn’t come from here—the amount required would surpass the full output of our mines. The obvious answer is that he has some other source.”

Riomini’s eyes widened. “Somewhere out in the Deep Zone?”

Carrington’s voice was maddeningly calm. “Fifty-four planets, all of them minimally explored. A major new iperion discovery might have given him the impetus to break away from the Crown Jewels.”

Riomini’s thoughts spun. It did indeed make sense. He had to inform the Diadem of this immediately … or not. A new supply would change the economics of the Constellation—and deflate the value of Vielinger and its current monopoly. He had to be very cautious.

“Who is administering the mines here?” he asked.

“Lanny Oberon runs the day-to-day operations, sir. He was a line supervisor under the de Carre administration. A competent, honest man.”

“Do you have confidence in him?”

She considered the question. “Yes. He is the best-qualified person for the job, and he appears dedicated to the work.”

He nodded. “I’m glad you have a competent supervisor, because I have another job for you, something even more important.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “More important than iperion?”

“As you said, everything is connected—General Adolphus, the Deep Zone uprising, the new stringline network. Now I have to consider the possibility of a new iperion source out in the frontier. I need my own person there to investigate, and to represent Riomini interests.” He nodded again, as if reaffirming his decision to himself. “You will accompany the fleet to planet Hallholme. Prepare yourself—the ships are due to depart from Aeroc within days.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Red Commodore Escobar Hallholme is in charge of the operation. He is a member of your family—is he not sufficient?”

“No, he is not sufficient! Escobar is only a family member because he married one of my grandnieces, but he has his own personal ambitions.” Riomini shook his head. Gail was loyal to him, and not at all interested in her own glory or advancement—which made her perfect for what he had in mind. “You will represent me, be my eyes aboard the fleet, with my full authority.”

He leaned toward her, placing his elbows on the desk. “On paper, Redcom Hallholme will remain in charge of the operation. I won’t take that away from him, and there’s a certain historic symmetry to having the son of Commodore Percival Hallholme defeat the General for the second time. But I want you there to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

“Do you have specific concerns, my Lord?”

“About victory? Not really. Given the overwhelming strength of our forces, I have no doubt that the operation will succeed, but Escobar is cocky and impetuous. He may feel a need to prove his heroism or some such nonsense. You must prevent him from making any foolish decisions that are not in the best interests of the Riominis or the Diadem—in that order. I need you to see that he is not allowed to make bad decisions in an attempt to be a hero. Take any action you feel is necessary.”

Her blue eyes were bright. “Anything, sir?”

He never needed to mince words with Gail Carrington. “To be blunt, better for him to be a dead hero than a living disgrace. If he makes significant enough blunders, in your estimation, I grant you my blessing to eliminate him, so long as the mission succeeds and
I
succeed. I can deal with my grieving grandniece. We can say her husband died bravely in battle and decorate him posthumously. But that only works if the mission is a success.”

She let out a long breath. “Understood, sir.”