Hellhole Inferno (8 page)

When Sophie arrived at the headquarters mansion, Adolphus greeted her with a warm smile and a weary but lingering embrace. He wore a blue-and-gold striped robe, and his black hair was slicked back, as if he had just stepped out of the shower. She noticed a bit of dark beard shadow on one side of his chin, which apparently he had overlooked when he shaved—a sign of how preoccupied he must be.

“I brought some very important news.” She stepped aside to let her companion join her at the door. “Tel Clovis is the one with the message.”

The rejuvenated man was barely recognizeable, no longer twisted and damaged from the stringline backlash on Candela; after his second slickwater immersion and his fusion with Tryn, Clovis now stood straight, healthy, vibrant. The man had been so insistent on delivering his message personally to the General that he had wanted to use his increased telemancy to levitate and fly himself and Sophie across the open air, but she declined. With a standard craft, she had gotten them here in an hour.

Adolphus stared in surprise at the other visitor. He had known Tel Clovis well when he served as the manager of the Ankor spaceport construction. “You look like your old self—except your eyes seem stranger, brighter.”

“I'm stronger, General,” Clovis said. “I now have Tryn within me as well as Balcus, my first companion.”

Sophie nodded. “Tryn could not be healed, and so she surrendered to the slickwater in order to join Tel.”

“That means only two Originals remain,” Adolphus said. “Do Lodo and Encix know?”

“I am still here,” the man said in an otherworldly voice. “I am now Tryn-Clovis.” The eyes spiraled and the voice thrummed. “And I have a message, a new possibility that will let us reach
ala'ru
faster than we expect.”

Adolphus glanced at Sophie. She said, “You're not going to like it, Tiber, but hear him out.”

They joined the General in his well-appointed study, where he had once kept transparent display cases of alien artifacts found by prospectors, long before anyone knew about the Xayans. He took a seat at his desk, firm and businesslike, despite his casual robe. “And what is it you propose?”

Tryn-Clovis said, “Someone must recover the remains of Cippiq and Zairic from Sonjeera. Zairic was the original visionary who fostered our march toward
ala'ru
, and he was the one who saved us by creating the slickwater. A vital part of him remains in the residue in the quarantine hangar … and that would be very useful to us.”

Adolphus drew his dark brows together. “Their remains are completely inaccessible, according what my spies have reported from Sonjeera—sealed in resin and under heavy guard. Michella is terrified of any contact with the Xayans. How do you expect to get in?”

Tryn-Clovis was unconcerned. “We must find a way. Bringing the memories and energy of Zairic back into our shared pool of telemancy will be an invaluable catalyst. I—and a group of companions—will require transport to Sonjeera.”

Sophie let irony creep into her tone. “He's quite convinced, but not very practical.”

Tryn-Clovis continued, “When I was in the pools, I experienced a powerful vision through telemancy. We are all in agreement that we need to rescue Zairic. Even from such a great distance, we are all connected, and I could sense the power still there in the Xayan residue trapped in that hangar. I know that if I can absorb what remains of Zairic and incorporate the afterimage of his presence, I will be able to accelerate
ala'ru
.”

“And how do you expect to get there?” Adolphus asked. “The direct stringline from Hellhole to Sonjeera is cut. You'd have to go via one of the other Deep Zone nodes.”

“Then that is what I will do. Once I reach Sonjeera, I will find a way to enter the quarantined hangar and retrieve the remains. That will give me what we need to save the Xayan race and alter the fate of this planet. It is a chance we have to take. The memories of Tryn inside me know the true powers that Zairic can awaken, if we liberate his memories, his telemancy, and all of his companions.”

The General exchanged glances with Sophie. He said to Tel Clovis, “Keana Duchenet may have information to help you, since she spent her life around Sonjeera and she had access to isolated areas that no one else knows about. As a shadow-Xayan, she'll want to help you.”

Sophie said, “First, you have to get to the quarantined hangar. And that means you have to get past all the Crown Jewels security around the spaceport and the main stringline hub.”

Adolphus smiled. “We have people who've done that before. Don't underestimate the risks, but if you succeed, it seems that we have a great deal to gain.”

Clovis stood straight, as if nothing would move him. “I'll have far more shadow-Xayan volunteers than I need, General. Just give us a chance to get to Sonjeera.”

Adolphus nodded. “I already have a couple of good operatives in mind.”

*   *   *

According to flight records, two of his most trusted pilots, Turlo and Sunitha Urvancik, were due to arrive at the Ankor spaceport. Former Constellation linerunners, the husband-and-wife team had infiltrated the Crown Jewels numerous times since the General declared Deep Zone independence.

The Urvanciks had just returned from a run to the DZ planet Hossetea, and Adolphus met them in the Ankor admin building as soon as they disembarked. He sat across from Turlo and Sunitha in a private conference chamber, where a filtered window provided a view of the landing field. Shuttles departed and arrived, accompanied by a flurry of landing downboxes.

Turlo had wide shoulders and a broad face, with pleasant features but not strikingly handsome. He was of medium height, with brown hair and dark eyes, and a natural tan. His pretty, olive-skinned wife, Sunitha, had an exotic look to her, with thick black hair and almond eyes.

Both of them had a sense of determination that made them completely reliable. Their only son, Kerris, had been killed during the General's first rebellion, serving in the Army of the Constellation, but the Urvanciks had turned against the Diadem when they learned that the reported cause of his death was a lie. Once they defected, they were utterly loyal to General Adolphus.

Now, Turlo carried two packs, slinging them onto the floor while Sunitha took a seat. Both of them looked troubled. Without any preamble, Sunitha said, “We're glad to find you here in person, sir. There's a lot to report, and something you need to know.”

“Unrest brewing on Hossetea,” said Turlo, without his characteristic good cheer. “Demonstrations against the planetary administrator, Sylvan Greer—and even more anger directed toward you, sir. They burned you in effigy in the largest city, along with a crude image of a Xayan.”

“He doesn't need to know those details,” Sunitha interrupted.

“Yes, I do.” Adolphus was surprised and dismayed by the report. “I have heard no grievances. What is causing the trouble?”

“We kept our distance, sir,” Turlo said. “But we picked up enough. The people are saying that Hossetea never wanted a war against the Constellation, that you forced this whole problem on them.”

Sunitha added, “And they don't want to be allied with aliens against their own people.”

Furrowing his brow, Adolphus said, “I'd better send in a larger surveillance team, along with more security personnel. You'd think Hossetea would be glad not to pay a backbreaking tribute to the Diadem. Don't they want to be free?”

“I think they don't want to do the work it takes to be free, sir,” said Turlo.

“Should we turn around and head back there with a message, General?” Sunitha asked.

Adolphus shook his head. “No, I have a different mission for you, a difficult one. How would you like to sneak into Sonjeera?”

Turlo smiled. “That's always fun.”

“It won't be fun,” Adolphus said, “but the Xayans insist it's important.”

*   *   *

Knowing that Tanja Hu and Ian Walfor were due to arrive in an hour with their firsthand observations of devastated Candela, Adolphus kept the conference room as a temporary office. He sent for a plate of curry and garlic fish fillets on fry-pasta from one of the concessionaires in the terminal building, and ate while reviewing the disturbing information about Hossetea. He was just finishing his meal when the two travelers entered.

With his weathered skin and ruddy good looks, Ian Walfor carried himself with confidence. Though he was the planetary administrator of the remote DZ world of Buktu—now empty and abandoned—he was also the best space pilot Adolphus had ever seen. Close behind him, Tanja Hu was a tall woman with high cheekbones, large eyes, and inky black hair.

Adolphus pushed his meal aside while Tanja swung herself into a seat. “We have thousands of images of Candela, General, but the conclusion is simple. No one is going to settle there for a long, long time. The damage is many times worse than what happened to Hellhole centuries ago.” She shook her head. “We'll never be able to mine iperion from the wasteland.”

“Then we need to find another source,” Adolphus said. “I've increased search parties and prospectors across the Deep Zone, but no one's found any new evidence yet.”

Tanja's voice was husky. “I'll devote my efforts to making sure my refugee population gets settled and integrated into Tehila society, and the same on the other planets where my people have been dispersed.”

Walfor stood by one of the large windows, gazing out at the landing field. He seemed angry. “We could go back to my Buktu, rebuild there. It's empty … all my people gone, taken prisoner by Commodore Hallholme.” He looked up. “Has there been any word from the Crown Jewels? Any ransom demands? Could we consider trading some of our military prisoners so I can get Erik Anderlos and my people back?”

Adolphus had considered that already, but there were no lines of communication. “I can make overtures. The Commodore took them all prisoner, and we know he uses hostages for leverage in desperate situations.”

“We don't even know if they're still alive,” Tanja said.

A dark expression crossed Walfor's face. “And he portrays himself as a man of great honor! He keeps reaching new lows.”

Adolphus said, “I suspect they are still alive. Commodore Hallholme will view the Buktu population as prisoners of war, which places certain obligations on him. He will expect the same treatment from us with his son Escobar and our POWs.” He felt he had the measure of Percival Hallholme, although he was less sure about Diadem Michella and Lord Selik Riomini.

Walfor turned away from the filter-glass window and slumped into a seat at the table. “What about Theser instead? Lord Riomini's warships leveled the main city, but the planet is still habitable. We could resettle there.”

Adolphus glanced over at Tanja. Her friend Sia Frankov had been the planetary administrator of Theser, murdered along with all her population in the Black Lord's attack. “It would be fitting to populate that world with Candela refugees. Sia would like that, wouldn't she?”

Tanja's eyes flashed behind a sheen of bitter tears. “Rebuilding there would be a way to show the Constellation that their attack didn't defeat us. It's worth considering.”

He remembered all the traumas and tragedies that Tanja had endured. “And what about the boy under your care—the son of your assistant, who was also murdered by Constellation treachery? Did he go with the Candela refugees to Tehila?”

Tanja said, “Jacque saw his mother killed in front of him, and he was at my side when we watched Candela die.” Her voice hitched. “I didn't want to leave him in a crowded refugee camp on Tehila. He's been through so much already. I sent him to a school and a very welcoming family on Nielad. He'll be fine—and far from the turmoil here.”

Walfor gave her a wan smile. “Tanja wants to be sure the boy is protected, and this way, she can still travel with me.”

Adolphus rose to his feet. “Resettling Theser will take time and considerable effort. Right now, I want you to go to Tehila to make sure the needs of the refugees are being met.”

Before departing, Tanja and Walfor each shook the General's hand. These were more than wartime comrades; they were friends, and he could count on them, just as they could count on him. It was one of the unexpected benefits of warfare and strife—learning who deserved such feelings, and who did not.

 

10

Under the supervision of Keana-Uroa and Encix, the shadow-Xayans trained with their telemancy, performing more and more spectacular exercises. And because the demonstrations took place just outside of the prisoner camp, and in clear view of the Constellation soldiers, the displays served the additional purpose of showing all those potential converts what they would gain if they immersed themselves in slickwater.

The shadow-Xayans were gathered on a promontory that provided a clear view of the rocky valley that spread out beyond the camp and off to the line of rough hills and wilderness beyond. A thrum of telemancy hung in the air, and Keana could feel Uroa's psychic energy increase inside of her. The newer converts practiced simpler tests that helped them ignite and control their telemancy, while Keana observed and offered her advice.

Keana and Uroa had an uneasy arrangement to share the awareness and impulse functions of their body—an understanding that was put to the test during the daily telemancy exercises of the shadow-Xayans. As one of the stronger and more resilient of the converts, Keana-Uroa helped to hone the cooperative mental skills of the growing crowds of shadow-Xayans. Someday, Keana knew, their adeptness in telemancy might save this planet, and might save the alien race.

They had developed a game to test and challenge the burgeoning telemancy abilities. From this promontory, she could look out upon the course, seeing the tall pylon on the valley floor that served as a marker. Students had to levitate large objects around the pylon and then return the objects to the shadow-Xayan settlement in the extreme distance. Keana could see curved free-form alien structures poking above a forest of dense, ethereal red weeds. The manipulated objects were not mere stones, but entire buildings.