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Authors: Greta van Der Rol

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BOOK: The Iron Admiral: Conspiracy
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Maybe Brjyl had been a verdant oasis once, but it wasn’t anymore. Two massive continents floated in an acid sea. The planet’s one lonely outpost, a brave venture for rare minerals, lay near the equator on the imaginatively named Continent One.

“Huh, look at that,” Roland said from his couch. “More activity here than they’ve seen in many a year.

There must be a dozen ships in orbit.”

“One of them’s ptorix,” Tyne said.

Allysha looked. Yes, unmistakable with its curls and curves. It almost looked like a sea shell.

“Galactic News, Universal, Interplanetary, News Network, Qerran Chronicle and a few privates,”

Melching said. “We’ll fit right in.”

“They didn’t even have a jump gate when I was last here,” Allysha said.

“Yeah, it’s one of those temporary ones, from Paramount Interplanetary.” Melching checked readings

on the screens. “Still, I guess it’s better than nothing with so many ships coming in and out.”

She exchanged a few words with the gate’s traffic controllers, explaining purpose of visit.

“Identification cleared,News Hound. Your passengers are to report to the security guards at this location

.” A building outside the settlement flashed on the map. “Park your shuttle next to the building.”

The harnesses withdrew and they all stood. Allysha glanced at Saahren out of the corner of her eye.

She’d barely exchanged three sentences with him after their encounter in the passage, except when

they’d planned the expedition to recover the backup. He hadn’t sought her out. So much for love. Men; they were all the same.

Tyne sealed the airlock behind him and they climbed into the shuttle, Melching at the controls, Roland and Tyne beside her and Saahren and Allysha in the back. Roland turned in his seat and grinned between them.

“No messing around back there, you two.”

As if. They wore exo-suits and helmets for the trip to the ground. She didn’t even look at Saahren.

The bay door slid open, the shuttle lifted and drifted out into space. Melching started the descent, easing into the atmosphere at an angle. The vehicle rocked and shuddered briefly until the wings extended, then glided over a stark desert landscape dotted here and there with groups of twisted growth. The ship sped across a jagged scar delving deep into the surface. Allysha caught a glint of brightness at the bottom.

Water? Maybe.

Melching set the shuttle down beside a rectangular pre-fab. Once upon a time the building might have

been grey; now its walls blended with the russet landscape. Everyone clambered down the ramp onto the ground. Red dust floated up with each step, coating their boots. Just as Allysha remembered. She

checked the outside temperature; ten degrees above freezing. At night the temperature would plummet to thirty below. With their dense fur the ptorix were less affected by cold than humans but even they had seen no reason to populate these barren plains. Until they found myllenite and a possible way of

extracting the crystals.

Once inside the door, Allysha and the others retracted their helmets into the shoulders of their suits.

Roland breasted a counter that ran across a part of the room. Much of the rest of the space was fitted out like a waiting room, with tables and chairs, dispensers and news sheets. Three ptorix, eyes swirling blue to violet, and a single human stood on the other side of the counter. They wore the uniform of the Qerran Police Force; deep-blue, heavy robes for the ptorix, the same color pants and jacket for the

human. One ptorix held a beam rifle, politely pointed up but ready to deploy in a moment. All wore

pistols in holsters.

“Marius Roland?” the human said.

“That’s right. I’m working on a zine article on the crisis. This is my crew.”

He introduced them and they all produced their ID cards and accreditation. The police officer scanned the information.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

“Into the settlement,” Roland said. “I want to see the damage, do some filming, see what I can see.”

“There isn’t much to see. The investigators have recovered what they could, but sure. I guess that’s what everybody wants to do.”

“Right, then. We won’t be long.” Roland turned away.

“Tessrat here will go with you.” The officer jerked his head at one of the ptorix, who glided toward

them.

“But—” Roland began.

“Sorry, Sir. It’s part of our duty. We want to be sure nobody takes souvenirs.”

“Souvenirs?” Roland said

“Yeah. A few of the early visitors took bits of debris with them when they left. They’ve been selling the stuff to collectors. Sick. But some people are.”

Roland raised a hand. “Hey, not an issue. Your mate can stay inside in the warm. We’re just taking

pictures.”

“Sure. Tessrat’ll appreciate a walk, then.”

Tessrat slid the tentacles of one hand over his lower mouth. Not impressed. Damnation. They hadn’t

expected to be escorted. Well, maybe Roland would have some ideas when they reached the control

room.

Melching wandered off to find a news sheet and a chair. She would wait here while the others carried

out the mission.

 

The cold nipped at Allysha’s nose as soon as they were outside the guardhouse door. She activated her helmet, glad to be inside its climate-controlled shell. She walked beside Saahren just behind Roland and Tyne, who chatted with Tessrat.

“Any ideas on how we get past Tessrat?” Allysha asked Saahren through the helmet mike.

“Not yet. Let’s see how it pans out.”

From here the settlement didn’t look very different from when she’d seen it last, rows of simple ptorix domed houses lining a road that led to the town center. Nerves fluttered in her stomach. It couldn’t be the same. Her gaze flicked from side to side, taking in shutters hanging from broken windows, shadows lurking beyond blasted doors, scorched walls. The interiors must have been burned. In a few cases the domes had collapsed. Dust covered everything but here and there she thought she saw dark stains on the grey plascrete, strange swirling lines. Like tentacles in a death throe. She swallowed, preventing the retch.

Best not to think about it.

Roland kept Tessrat talking, asking what he knew, what he’d seen. Tyne moved his Viewcam from side

to side. Apart from their voices, silence shrouded the ruins, a monument to the dead. Allysha

remembered ptorix females talking in the street, children squealing, and the unmistakable, acrid smell of ptorix food cooking. Now the cold breeze carried a memory of smoke and death. The wind blew up

dust devils that swirled down the road toward them. Almost like the spirits of the dead miners fleeing the place of slaughter.

The crossroads approached, the center of town where a store, a tavern, a community hall and the

settlement’s control room faced each other from their corners. Built for humans as well as ptorix, their rectangles towered above the ptorix domes. The few humans had lived in the tavern, as had Allysha. The building remained untouched, the only one intact.

“Four Tors work in hotel,” Tessrat said. “The attackers kill them. You can seeing stains of their dying on the floor there.”

“But they didn’t destroy the place.”

“Nyizza. It is human place.”

They’d burnt the store, scattered the contents. She peered at sagging ceilings, bulging walls, piles of anonymous rubbish, shattered shelves, intact cans with labels burnt off. She stepped closer to look.

Tessrat waved his tentacles, eyes violet with alarm. “Is not going too close, lady. Is dangerous. Roof nearly fallen. Burnt inside.”

“What about the hall?”

“Not so bad.”

“The hall had the most beautiful ptorix artifacts,” Allysha told the three men through the helmet mike.

“They put in a curved artificial ceiling like a cave and decorated as they would a chapel to their Gods.”

“That’s our chance,” Saahren said. “Get him over there while Allysha and I get into the control room.

Allysha, be ready to move when I say. Got that?”

 

“Got that.” She breathed deeply. Her heart pounded but it was exhilaration more than fear. She was

amazed how calm she felt.

“I’ve heard about the hall,” Roland said. “I’m told it was decorated?”

“Yes,” Tessrat said. “A cave for the world mother.” His eyes swirled red.

“Will you show us? I’ve always wanted to see something like that,” Tyne said.

“Well…” Tessrat dithered. “You will not understand. And is sacred to the Mother.”

“My friend Grallaz tells me it is a wonderful experience, even if we humans cannot appreciate the art as it should be,” Tyne said.

“Must be respectful,” Tessrat said.

“Oh, we will be, I promise,” Tyne said. “Grallaz would want to see this place. May I film?”

“Follow.” Tessrat glided to the hall, Tyne and Roland in his wake.

As soon as Roland, Tyne and Tessrat had gone inside, Saahren pulled her back.

“Quickly.” Holding onto her arm he ran across the intersection to the control room.

The door had stuck half open. Dark smudges stained the walls outside. Allysha guessed they were from

smoke; or maybe blood. No time for fear. Get the data and get out. Allysha slipped through the gap,

Saahren behind her.

“We’ve only got a couple of minutes,” he said.

She forced herself to concentrate. Find the machine, get the datadot out. Ignore the bloodstained chairs, the gouged walls, the scorch marks, the grunge on the floor, the five-pointed star carved into a wall. She picked her way around a fallen chair to the alcove opposite the entrance door and pressed the door

release with both hands.

Nothing happened.

“Damn.” She tried again.

Saahren loomed over her. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s stuck,” Allysha said. She’d felt the mechanism grind as if it was trying to obey but couldn’t.

Her desperate eyes alighted on a rod sticking out of the wall at a strange angle. Maybe that was the

problem. She pulled at the rod. It moved, but not enough.

“Can you get this?” she said.

He pulled the rod away with one easy jerk.

She tried again and the compartment wheezed open. A black oblong half the size of her hand slid out on a tray. A few swift commands and the machine closed down. She flicked a switch and slid the datadot

that appeared into a holder on her techpack. Now to close the door. Slowly, slowly the compartment

ground closed. She stood, scuffed the mark where she’d knelt. Nothing left behind, no sign of tampering.

Saahren shoved the rod back into the hole in the wall.

Roland’s voice cut into the silence inside the helmet. “Finish. Now. Tessrat’s looking for you.”

Chapter Twenty Nine

“Is there anywhere to hide?” Saahren said.

“No. This is it.” Her heart thundered. Tessrat, Roland and Tyne were approaching, fast.

“Helmet down,” Saahren said. His helmet had already retracted.

She didn’t argue. She didn’t have time to ask why. He pulled her into his arms and clamped his mouth

over hers. For a moment she stiffened, pulling away from him. But he held her fast.

“For show, my lady. Try to pretend you’re enjoying this,” he whispered against her lips.

Damn it, she was enjoying it. But that was just sex. And it was a good idea. She supposed. Her arms

slid around his neck as his tongue probed between her lips. Her gloved fingers crept into his hair. No, too much. She tried to pull away a little, just enough to talk but he wouldn’t let her.

Footsteps crunched on the dirt road.

“Can’t you two leave each other alone, even for a few minutes?” Roland’s voice rang with amusement.

They swayed apart, but Saahren didn’t let her go. She eased out of his grip.

Tessrat’s eyes whirled purple. Anger. “Why you here? Why you not with others?”

“Anything for a snog, Charters?” Tyne said, chuckling.

 

“Well, we had to be inside to get these helmets off,” Saahren said.

“Why you come here?” Tessrat interrupted. His tentacles lashed, backward and forward, backward and

forward.

“It’s my fault,” Allysha said. “I was so horrified at what I saw on that broadcast, when that man was killed. I wanted to see where it happened, just the two of us.” She took Saahren’s hand and gazed up at him. “And then I was really upset and Brad comforted me.”

Roland and Tyne sniggered.

“We come here next,” Tessrat said. “What you do here? You take something?”

“No. We took nothing.”

“You let me search.”

“Sure.” Allysha spread her arms and let Tessrat run his tentacles over her body, probe her pockets. He ignored the techpack on her belt. Relief surged through her, leaving her knees rubbery.

“Now you.”

Saahren stood impassive, arms out, as the ptorix carried out his search. Tessrat moved back, eyes still showing too much violet. “Not to stray again.”

“Understood,” Saahren said. “We apologize.”

Tessrat’s eyes tinged blue, then green. “Good. This where the people were shot. Ptorix and human

together.”

“Looks like they tried to burn the place down.” Tyne climbed over a fallen chair and prowled around the room, his camera filming. Roland followed him adding commentary while Tessrat kept a close eye on all of them.

“Fine, we’ve seen enough,” Roland said. “Thanks, Tessrat. We can go back, now.”

Now the job was done, she couldn’t wait to get out of there. Her skin prickled as they walked through the dust between the ruined houses. The ptorix believed the spirits of those murdered hung around,

wailing around the place of their death during the night for months before they faded away to the caves at the heart of the universe.

Saahren sidled toward her. She didn’t want to talk to him. The taste of his lips still tingled in her mouth.

She caught up with Tessrat. “Doesn’t it bother you, being here, where all those people were murdered?”

“Why you ask?”

Oh, buckrats. She didn’t want him to know how much she knew. He’d remember her if anyone asked.

BOOK: The Iron Admiral: Conspiracy
3.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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