Hellhole: Awakening (20 page)

It was the second session of the day. They had been training against typical ground and air attacks that might be expected from a traditional invading fleet. On undulating caterpillar legs, Encix glided among the shadow-Xayans, watching the activities with her large black eyes, but speaking little.

Now Devon-Birzh guided a wave of telemancy from the hundreds of volunteers, creating a wall of wind that rose into the sky. Devon said, “That should be enough to deflect a squadron of attack fighters.”

Encix expressed no admiration. “Continue to build your mental strength. The shadow-Xayans have already equaled or surpassed the Originals’ powers of telemancy, but you are far stronger when one of us joins you. Time is short. Stretch your power. Improve faster.”

Although he allowed Birzh to take over his mind during the actual use of telemancy, now Devon’s own personality came to the fore. “We’re preparing to fight side by side with General Adolphus. Look at the progress we’ve already made.”

Encix swayed back and forth, and her expression was unreadable to Devon, even with help from his own alien personality. “There are other reasons to hurry.”

Antonia took Devon’s hand and gave him a warm smile. “Let’s show Encix what we can do.”

As always when she touched him, Devon felt his pulse quicken, and his fused mind reached out, linking with the thoughts of his numerous shadow-Xayan companions as they built a collective energy. Encix acted as a catalyst to increase the mental output, channeling the whirlwind of telemancy.…

With a pang, he wished his mother could witness these demonstrations again. Though she tried to hide it, Sophie Vence remained saddened that he lived among the shadow-Xayans. Devon wanted to convince her that he had gained so much more with the infused memories, abilities, and passions of Birzh. And his counterpart’s love for Jhera was the perfect complement to his own love for Antonia. His mother had accepted what he said and claimed that she understood, but she remained worried about him; she had sent a message that she would visit on the following day, just to spend time with him.

After growing up here, Devon had never been afraid of Hellhole, though he respected the planet’s dangers. The
challenges.
Early on, while he was just getting to know Antonia, he had taken the battered girl under his wing and explained the local hazards to her. He had been so young before he met her, so eager and innocent … but now, with the double vision of alien lives and loves inside them, he and Antonia were never separate.

Birzh had increased Devon’s courage as well as his understanding, and the prospect of ascending to a higher plane, joining an entire race as it evolved, expanded his hope. For the first time in his life, Devon felt that he could do something really significant.

Yet, when the Xayans finally achieved
ala’ru,
Devon wasn’t sure that he would accompany them in the sacred ascension, or if the Birzh personality would abandon him … leaving him as a mere human again. Birzh either did not know or would not tell him the answer, and Antonia said it was the same with Jhera. Just walls of silence, leaving unanswered questions.

Now, as the practice group exerted their telemancy, drawing upon the strength of Encix, Devon noted that the more he pushed his mental powers, the more Birzh seemed to recede and allow him to dominate. His human part added fuel to the Xayan part, which made them far stronger together.

In earlier demonstrations, the group had faced off against conventional artillery fire; this time, the challenge would be different. His mother would have been horrified at the risk, but Devon had no qualms.

Hearing the sound of engines, the shadow-Xayans looked up to see four fast aircraft. The approaching fighters shot flashes of orange as j-palm rockets burst overhead in a blossom of liquid fire. An inferno of burning chemicals poured down on them.

The telepathic energy level intensified as more humans took greater control of their hybrid minds, creating an invisible defensive shield. With an inner calm, Devon watched the raining sheets of flame ripple off the protective field. Guiding the telemancy, with Encix’s participation, Devon-Birzh gathered the incandescent j-palm and squirted it back up into the sky like a geyser with such speed and focused intensity that it created a sonic boom. Another psychic nudge, and he was able to launch it all the way out into space.

Through the thrumming telemancy, he sensed a slight disturbance coming from Encix, though he could not determine the reason. Feeling exhilarated rather than exhausted, Devon relaxed while Antonia pressed close against him. In his thoughts, he heard the voice of Birzh, “You did well.”

“
We
did well.”

*   *   *

The next morning, the awakening sun was still low in the sky, and the air was cool but gritty on Sophie’s face. Wearing khaki clothing, she and Devon rode in an open-air track vehicle that rumbled along dirt roads.

Though she enjoyed every moment she spent with her son, trying to hold on to what she remembered of him, the young man was especially quiet today. She wondered what he was thinking, knowing he maintained a constant running dialogue with his alien companion.

As a young man, Devon had longed to go fishing on Klief, and when the first trout ponds opened on Hellhole, she had promised to take him. For years she had repeated the promise, always assuming there would be time. Ever resourceful, the young man had even taken a makeshift pole out to streams near Michella Town to fish, but he’d caught only strange and inedible aquatic slitherers, spiny native creatures that fought and thrashed until he severed the line. That wasn’t real fishing!

Now, even though Devon had changed beyond measure, she wanted to make up for all the disappointment. Their fishing gear was in the back of the vehicle.

Sophie guided them along the bumpy road to the local fish hatchery, telling him about the holding ponds full of fingerlings. Growing up on Hellhole, Devon had become an expert on the geology, the weather, the plantings in the greenhouses, the native creatures that had survived the devastating impact. He loved science. Now he listened while she discussed the water-quality problems due to the intrusion of sulfur and trace selenium into the ponds.

With a flash of his old personality, he seemed interested and glad to spend time with her, but he was also distracted to be away from Antonia and the other shadow-Xayans. Sophie leaned closer as the vehicle lurched over a rut in the road. “We’ll enjoy this, Devon,” she insisted. “We need this time together.”

The vehicle rumbled past outdoor runways for yearling fish, water-filled tanks that were covered by roofs to keep native predatory birds from feeding on them. Off in the distance, Sophie saw the main hatchery building and the half-built learning center where tourists and schoolchildren would be brought to learn about the hatchery operations. Someday.

When she stopped the vehicle at one of the fishing ponds, Devon’s interest perked up. The lake was well stocked with warm-water trout in a natural environment. Along the pond’s shore, pale blue succulent trees provided shade for fishermen. As the vehicle came to a stop, Sophie saw a man and a boy on the far bank, fishing together. Her heart ached when she saw the two. Devon hadn’t had a father to do that with him.

She could have been a better mother to him. When the boy was only ten, she’d whisked him away to the Deep Zone—and from that point on, the day-to-day difficulties of establishing a decent life in the rigorous environment had required most of her attention. Now they faced a war, which placed many demands and anxieties on all citizens of Hellhole. Time had slipped through her fingers. She regretted that her son had never enjoyed a normal childhood. Even worse, with Birzh living inside of him he had no normal adult life either.

The previous night while Adolphus prepared for his trip to Ridgetop, she had worked long hours to catch up on her summaries and delegated tasks. Now, for half a day, while the weapons factories worked smoothly, while ships patrolled space around the planet, while the shadow-Xayans continued their drills, Sophie set everything else aside, determined to spend time with Devon.

In a flash of his old personality, the young man sprang from his seat and retrieved their fishing gear from the back of the vehicle. Sophie was glad to see the childish delight in his blue eyes. “I’ll set up our poles, Mother.”

Sophie’s feelings were more than just the regrets of a busy mother. She needed reassurance that his human personality remained intact and strong. Glancing at Devon, she could see the alien shimmer and faint spirals in his eyes, but his occasional comments and expressions gave her hope that she was actually sitting beside
Devon
now. She wanted just a few hours with her son, her only son. Relenting, Birzh had granted him full prominence, although their personalities were so interconnected that Sophie had trouble distinguishing one from the other.

She smiled as she watched him prepare the poles, and when he caught her watching, he smiled back—the warm, pure smile she remembered so well from his childhood.

“Birzh finds this interesting,” he said. “The Xayans eat by grazing over native vegetation on the ground. The process of catching food, especially out of the water, is strange to them.”

“I’m glad we’re able to entertain him,” Sophie said.

“Actually, we’re educating him.”

They fished from the bank for more than an hour, sharing a snack and a drink, although they got nothing more than a tentative nibble on their hooks. Devon laughed often, and kept changing the lures and bait on their lines, trying different options. When he was younger, he had read extensively on fishing techniques, constantly daydreaming about the sport.

“Sorry it took so long for us to spend this time together,” Sophie said. “We should have done it years ago.”

“You’ve been busy with important things. I understand a lot more now.”

“You never complained,” she said. “You’ve always been a good son, and I’m really sorry.”

“No need for apologies. Today makes up for it all.” He kissed her cheek. Yes, this was the familiar Devon. He
was
still there inside. “But don’t be sad, Mother. I need you to understand that Birzh has gained as much from
my
memories as I have gained from him. I take a lot of pride in letting him relive some of my favorite meals from years past, as well as what you did for me on my birthdays, the time I hid from you in the greenhouse domes, and the first time you tried to sew me a shirt.”

She gave an embarrassed chuckle. “I was never meant to be a seamstress, darling, but you wore that shirt anyway.”

“And the first time you let me take the Trakmaster controls, and when I tried to bake you a holiday cake.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “That cake was a disaster as bad as the asteroid impact.”

“The mess I left in the kitchen was a true disaster.” Then after a long pause he added, “I am different now, though.”

“I know,” she said.

“But I’m still Devon, and I still have human feelings. I know you’ve been worried about me, and I don’t blame you for that—but I don’t regret for one minute what’s happened to me, or to Antonia. I’ve already experienced more wonders than I could have wished for in ten human lifetimes.”

She felt tears well up in her eyes. “Just don’t go too far away from me.”

“I haven’t, and I won’t.”

On the opposite shore the other boy hauled in a big, energetic trout, and held it high like a trophy. Neither she nor Devon caught any fish, but it didn’t matter. Sophie had not come out here looking for fish; she’d come here looking for her son—and she’d found him.

When they packed up to go back, Devon said, “I had a great time with you, Mother. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said. “More than I could ever put into words.”

29

Far afield. Adrift.

Despite the growing sense of unease throughout the Constellation fleet, Escobar Hallholme tried to avoid feeling like he was lost. Everybody aboard could sense it as the numerous ships ranged in ever-widening search spirals, trying to locate the molecule-fine iperion line. They spread farther apart, expanded their hunt.

And found nothing.

Though Escobar laid out a plan to sweep the emptiness, crisscrossing the open volume, by the end of the first week the efforts had an increasingly frantic edge. The five military haulers stayed within an hour’s light-distance from one another to remain in emergency communication. The warships detached from each hauler framework and ventured out to comb empty space, their iperion detectors extended.

“It’s not so easy to find a stringline.” Jackson Firth sounded as if he had just realized it.

“No one ever said it would be easy, Mr. Firth.” Escobar hated to be reminded of his failure. No, not failure, he corrected himself:
setback.
He did agree with Gail Carrington about the need for this search, and as soon as he found the outbound iperion line again, no one would regard this as a failure anymore. He was determined to turn the situation around, which would make the eventual victory taste even sweeter. Before the pedantic diplomat could make further comments, Escobar said, “Lieutenant Cristaine, any report from the other four haulers?”

“Reports, sir, but no success. The search continues.”

The diplomat sounded annoyed. “I will not be dismissed, Red Commodore. For the first days of this expedition, I ignored your insulting comments, your obvious disapproval of me and my team. You told us that we were irrelevant until you completed your part of the mission. Well, I’m waiting, sir. Do your part of the mission so that I may perform my own valuable work.”

“Thank you for your advice, Mr. Firth,” Escobar said, his irritation plain. “I’ll consider it carefully.” He wanted to strangle the man. “Now kindly leave the bridge so that I can do my job, as you demand.”

The diplomat left, indignant, but clearly satisfied to have scored a point. Escobar sat back in his command chair, noticing furtive glances from other members of his bridge crew before they went about their business again.