Hellhole Inferno (59 page)

Keana was the first to climb back to her feet. She seemed dazed, and her face was full of confusion. She touched the side of her forehead, looked around in bewilderment, and saw the other shadow-Xayans stirring as well, climbing back to their feet and talking.

Keana turned to Sophie and announced with wonder in her voice, “We are no longer in danger. We moved the planet.”

Sophie didn't grasp what Keana had just said. Tanja Hu blurted out, “You can't simply move a planet.”

Keana's expression was mild. “We just did. We used its own momentum, accelerated it along its orbit. That was easier than fighting against the Ro-Xayans and stopping twenty asteroids.”

The rest of the converts struggled back to consciousness, murmuring in excitement. Their voices were more animated and vibrant than before—no longer the perfect unison of minds connected through telemancy. Each one seemed to show a spark of personality again.

Keana said, “We were ready because Encix brought us—
forced
us—to this point—all the combined mental energy of the Xayan race, enhanced with the hybrid vigor from humanity. So much energy built up, simmering, waiting to be released … yes, we could have achieved
ala'ru
. Instead, we expended it all to move Xaya. To save it.”

Sophie listened, hardly able to believe what she was hearing, or what she had experienced.

“The effort cost much more than I expected. The Xayans within us are—” Her brow furrowed, and she ran her fingertips along her forehead. “Uroa is still there … my companion, my friend, but he is just a whisper now. I can access his memories when I try, but they're like distant childhood recollections. Maybe someday he will grow stronger again. Otherwise, I'll just have to remember him.”

Walfor asked, “But you're feeling normal again? All the converts, too?”

With a wan smile, Keana shook her head. “Normal again? After what we've just been through? With what we know and have experienced? Each one of the former converts is fundamentally changed—but for the most part, yes, I am human again.”

The crowd milled about, speaking with one another, reuniting with friends. Keana looked up, perplexed at first and then smiling as one of the bedraggled former prisoners from the camp came forward. Major Bolton Crais.

An expression of wonder filled his face. “Keana, is it you?”

“It has always been me,” she said. “Just a different me.”

Bolton had a longing expression on his face. “I'm different, too. I understand now.”

Keana chuckled. “We still have a lot to understand.”

“I came here to assure your safety,” Bolton said, “but I didn't expect it to turn out like this.”

Sophie said, “None of what happened here fits into a tidy military scenario.” She looked back at the damaged lodge house, turned toward Walfor's ship. “Ian, we'd better use your ship's comm. The General must be wondering what just happened.”

Then she saw a contrail overhead, a swift scout vessel tearing down through the atmosphere. Somehow she knew that it was Adolphus coming for her.

Tanja and Walfor helped to clear an area near the slickwater pools. The crowded shadow-Xayans backed away, granting a generous field for the incoming vessel to land. It was a DZDF shuttle from the
Jacob
.

Smiling, Sophie stepped forward, knowing what she would see. She waited to welcome Tiber Adolphus as he emerged from the hatch. He hurried forward as she went to meet him, and swept her up in a fervent embrace.

Laughing, Sophie said, “Aren't you afraid to be passionate in front of all these people?”

“I thought I'd never see you again. I never imagined I'd set foot on this planet again.”

She told him what Keana told her.

“I'm glad to have the help of an entire race,” Adolphus said. He scanned the crowded converts and shook his head. “The whole planet was moved about a day's journey ahead in its orbit, and the asteroids passed right through where Hellhole had been. Our ships raced over here to investigate—I thought we might even have to continue the evacuation.”

Still holding him, Sophie said, “But the evacuation's a moot point now, isn't it?”

A grim flicker crossed the General's expression. “Maybe not. The Ro-Xayan asteroids are slowing, and they appear to be altering course, but it'll take some time. The sheer power to do that is inconceivable to me. And they have launched their scout ships, hundreds of them.”

Sophie's eyes went wide. “You mean they're
still
trying to attack Hellhole? All this was for nothing?”

A young DZDF officer hurried out of the landed shuttle, looking as if he had experienced far too much impossibility in the past few days. “General, we've made course projections—the asteroids are no longer going to impact. It looks like they're going into orbit, sir.”

Keana stepped up to join them. “The Ro-Xayans will send emissaries down. We have a common ground now, if they know we can no longer achieve
ala'ru
. They'll have a chance to rebuild their world instead of destroying it.”

Another ship descended through the atmosphere, also making its way toward Slickwater Springs—not one of the swift, silvery Ro-Xayan craft, but a Constellation shuttle. The General craned his head upward. “It looks like Commodore Hallholme has decided to join us.”

When the other vessel landed in Slickwater Springs, the old warrior emerged, looking wrung-out and disoriented. He drew a breath of the dry air, drank in details, then hobbled toward Adolphus. The two rivals had not stood face-to-face for a long time. “General Adolphus, you have an interesting way of prosecuting a war.”

“You're right, Commodore.”

In a rapprochement that had once seemed impossible, they clasped hands.

*   *   *

Commodore Hallholme set aside all the countless management details warring for attention in his head. This operation was the most massively complex and confusing he had ever undertaken, and now, with the objective changing hourly, most of his crew had conflicting or unclear orders. Finally, after setting foot on the planet that was so embarrassingly named after him, he focused on one paramount goal.

Among all those here, including the thousands of Constellation prisoners, one of them was his son. He searched for Escobar among the crowds of dazed converts who had
flown
here from the POW camp.

He saw Keana Duchenet reunited with Major Crais. The two had been distant and aloof during their years of marriage, living separate lives back in the Crown Jewels. Now, as they stood together, they seemed like different people.

And when Percival found Escobar, the younger man also looked different. His son approached him, still wearing the uniform of a Red Commander in the Army of the Constellation. He remembered how strange and alien Escobar had looked earlier on the comm screen, when he'd revealed that he shared his mind with an alien presence. Now, though, Percival thought he saw much of the old Escobar in those pale blue eyes—the good part that Percival remembered.

The younger man offered a crisp salute. “Presenting myself to you, sir. I have a lot to tell you.”

Percival moved closer, stiff and formal out of long habit, although he was overjoyed. “You are healthy? Unharmed?”

Escobar paused as if to consider. “I am changed … but, yes, I am
myself
again.” His expression softened. “I think you might like this version of me better, however. I've learned a great deal since I departed with my fleet months ago. I was arrogant and unrealistic. I put my crew in danger, took unnecessary risks, lost many good soldiers. I did not listen to the warnings or the advice you gave me—primarily because it came from
you
, and I didn't want to hear it. That was foolish and immature.” He averted his eyes for a moment, then turned back.

“I'm ashamed to admit that I spent little time thinking about my wife, my two sons. I looked toward a distant goal, but didn't see much else. I have been humbled, sir—and made much wiser. I hold another life and a new set of memories inside me, even though they're not much more than mere dreams and echoes now. I didn't have enough time to get to know my internal alien companion, but the experience matured me.” He bowed his head slightly. “I hope you can accept me as I am now.”

Tears welled in Percival's eyes. “Only if you call me ‘father' instead of ‘sir.'”

“Of course, Father.”

The silver-haired old man reached out to embrace his son.

*   *   *

Keana realized that the immense administrative problems facing the colony, the two fleets, and all the ready evacuation ships would be nearly insurmountable. Merely keeping track of everyone who had become a shadow-Xayan was a tremendous challenge.

Still, it was far better than the alternative of planetary annihilation.

With the echoes of Uroa inside her, as well as the shadow-Xayans who were drained of psychic energy, Keana had a far greater question to answer. From the ominous Ro-Xayan asteroids that had gradually gone into orbit above the shifted Hellhole, the alien faction had dispatched their swift silver ships. They pinwheeled down through the atmosphere and landed near the primary slickwater pools. All the former converts could sense the Ro-Xayans coming, and Keana—who had already interacted with the rogue aliens—acted as a liaison.

When the alien ships settled onto the ground and Zhaday emerged, his blue torso pigmentation was brighter than ever. Five aliens accompanied him, gliding forward on their caterpillar bodies. When they touched the dusty surface, they thrummed and swayed with genuine awe.

Identifying Keana, Zhaday moved forward. When the faction leader spoke, she heard his words plainly in the air, but not in her mind. The leftover telemancy had become little more than a whisper.

“We are back on our planet again … a seeming impossibility not long ago.” He paused. “We would have destroyed Xaya to save the universe, would have sacrificed our entire race, and whatever else it took. We were ready.”

Keana straightened and stood before him. “And yet, we found a different way. We clung to
hope
, rather than solving a problem through complete annihilation. And now we can make a new beginning.”

Zhaday and the Ro-Xayans looked curiously toward the slickwater pools, which now seemed dull and tarnished, empty. “And the Xayan memories inside you? They cannot ever achieve
ala'ru
?”

“The residue is here, but you, your faction, are the last remaining Xayans.
Ala'ru
is no longer a threat, just a memory … a lost possibility.”

The Ro-Xayans fanned out, exiting their numerous pinwheel ships. All the aliens seemed stunned and amazed to be here, drinking in new life from the sky, feeling the air on their porous skin. “Our race can come back to Xaya now,” Zhaday said. “We can reclaim it, replant it.”

Keana hardened her expression. “We can
share
it. This world belongs as much to the humans as it does to your faction. My people fought to save it.”

Zhaday bowed. “I did not mean to suggest another conflict.”

Surprisingly, a new Xayan came to the valley, riding across the sky on his own telemancy—another alien that Keana had never seen before.

Bolton knew him, though. “Jonwi!”

The alien landed and came forward, his arms making jittery motions, the feelers on his forehead twitching. He was excited, frenetic. Bolton hurried toward him. “Looks like you can continue your work after all. It won't be a wasted effort.”

“My work never stopped,” Jonwi said. “And now that a real future has returned to us, I suggest that all Ro-Xayans—working alongside humans—help us reseed Xaya with its original life-forms. We can bring back the paradise it once was, tame the remaining ecological turmoil. Never in my life have I felt so much energy and enthusiasm. Can you not feel the life stirring from within the soil?”

“We all feel it,” Zhaday said.

After what Uroa had shown her in his ancient memories, Keana could imagine large portions of the blasted terrain covered with renewed alien vegetation. The numerous ordeals and changes she had endured since leaving Sonjeera were steps that helped her become the complex person she was now. Keana was vastly different from the brash and foolish woman she'd been back in the Crown Jewels.

Seeing Bolton next to her, she realized how much he had changed, too. They had a common experience they'd never dreamed possible.

Keana Duchenet, who had once been swept along on a Xayan tidal wave, had been transformed, just as the planet had. The future looked bright, but she didn't delude herself. This was, after all, still Hellhole.

 

81

When Ian Walfor flew his ship, Tanja insisted on copiloting, but then she felt so physically and mentally exhausted that she could barely move.

She thought back on the months of crises that she and Ian had survived. The completion of the Deep Zone stringline network should have been a new dawn for the fifty-four colony worlds, but instead it had merely triggered an avalanche of tragedies—the infighting, the uprisings on various planets, her despair at seeing the murder of Bebe Nax and then the destruction of Candela. Ian had suffered his own losses when the Army of the Constellation overran Buktu, took the population captive, and the ruthless new Diadem slaughtered all of those survivors.

And yet somehow, impossibly, Hellhole had been saved from even greater devastation.

Seeing how drained Tanja appeared, Walfor smiled at her. “You look beautiful when you're utterly wrung out.”

She barely opened her eyes to look at him, managed a small smile. “Right.”

He chuckled. “Go ahead and rest—it's over now. The world is saved and, if the Ro-Xayans are correct, so is the universe.”

“It's never over, Ian. We've just got a different set of problems to solve. Enva Tazaar went off to set up her new colony on Theser. Maybe you and I should go there and see how my Candela refugees are doing.”