Hellhole (54 page)

In some imagined happy world, if Fate had been kind instead of cruel, Keana would have found true love with Louis at the proper time, rather than marrying dear, dull Bolton. She and Louis could have been happy, and might have had a son of their own. She could never have that imaginary happy ending now, but at least she could find and help Cristoph . . .

As the other passengers disembarked, she tried to blend in, though she felt dramatically out of place. The rough-looking men and women, probably even some convicted criminals, all seemed self-sufficient, aware of what they had to do, accustomed to being responsible for their own survival. It was a new experience for Keana.

The minute she set foot on the pavement, a blast of dirty air made her cough. She had never smelled anything like it on Sonjeera. A hot wind raised dust devils on the dirt streets. When she arrived in Michella Town, a lean and unshaven vendor tried to sell her a protective hat, but a gust sent his wares spinning away, and he chased them along the composite sidewalk. Something about the man’s embarrassment and earnestness softened her suspicions, and she decided to take a chance. She had to ask someone.

Keana set down her battered valise and waited for the vendor to gather his things. She had already concocted a cover story during the stringline passage. “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone. My son signed up for a new life on this planet, and I need to find him. He’s a grown man, but still . . . a mother worries.”

The man’s brow furrowed. “You don’t talk like the usual down-and-outs who come in on the stringline.”

“Our noble family fortunes took a downturn, and we lost all our lands. That’s why my son came here for a fresh start, but I think he’s made a mistake.”

The hat-vendor laughed. “Your fortunes must have fallen a long way if he chose
Hellhole
over the life he had!”

She opened her valise and brought out her small pouch of jewelry. “I can pay for information. His name is Cristoph de Carre. Have you heard of him?”

The man seemed amused by her offer. “I could say anything and take your money, then I’d be gone before you even knew I was lying to you.”

“You look like an honest man.”

“I haven’t heard that one before!” He laughed and ran his gaze over her, not fooled by her rough clothes. “You’ve got money, or you ran off with some, but I’m not going to take it from you. I used to dupe rich ladies until I was convicted and sent here, but I don’t need to take advantage of a defenseless newbie.” He pointed down the street to a two-story office building. “Go to Central Records and tell them what you need.” He let out a rude snort. “
They’ll
be happy to take your bribe.”

In the Central Records office she tried to insist on results before paying the clerks. One man referred her to another, then two others, and she had to pay each of them, a gold ring to the first and a set of diamond earrings to the next, then a locket. She had no doubt they were taking advantage of her, but she persisted. She felt she was close to the answer she had wanted for so long.

The third clerk made a great show of sifting through complex databases and even hardcopy ledgers. “Cristoph de Carre . . . Looks like he’s bounced around. Worked in dust-system maintenance at the spaceport for a few weeks, then ran a mine excavation team before he dropped out of the system. Hmm, that’s odd.” He looked up. “Ah, now I know where I’ve heard the name. General Adolphus transferred him personally.”

Keana had to surrender another ring before the clerk gave her the last piece of information. “Go out to Slickwater Springs. Sophie Vence will know.”

Keana wasn’t entirely convinced of the lead, but at least she had a destination.

A
dolphus had waited a long time for this day – the completion of the first new stringline route in the Deep Zone. A momentous occasion! Though it sounded like hyperbole, this was indeed the beginning of a new era for the frontier worlds.

At the Ankor launch site, the large sinkhole had been filled in, and vast landing fields were paved. If tests continued to go well, cargo upboxes would soon be lifted to the new stringline hub for distribution to other DZ planets, and downboxes would deliver trade goods from arriving ships.

After today, it would begin. Fueled by the stories of resurrected personalities and the crowds coming to the alien pools, all curious eyes remained distracted by Slickwater Springs and the growing settlement of shadow-Xayans nearby. Nobody paid attention to the Ankor site or the activities there.

He still hoped for a more direct benefit of the converts and the resurrected alien race; their telemancy showed remarkable potential, and he hoped he could add them to his defenses of Hellhole. Sophie Vence had astonished him with her story of how the converts had joined together to deflect a full-force static storm about to devastate Slickwater Springs. But with or without alien telemancy here on Hellhole, he also had to lay down the full strategic plan for the rest of the Deep Zone.

Adolphus knew where his dreams and his destiny lay. Yes, the Xayan race fascinated him, and he imagined its great potential – both for the advancement of his colonists and for the defense of Hallholme – but the independent stringline network was far more important. Once he consolidated the DZ, then he could study the lost race at his leisure.

If anyone survived that long.

Now, in the hours before dawn, bright lights lit up the whole complex. He readied himself a full two hours before the expected arrival, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Though the stringline engineers had calculated and recalculated the travel time from Candela, this was an untried route. Adolphus knew well enough that practice did not always adhere to theory.

Rendo Theris, the man who had taken over Ankor’s administrative duties after the grief-stricken Tel Clovis resigned, now paced the interior of the admin shack, full of nervous energy. He had been drinking local coffee to keep himself awake throughout the night. “No message, sir. Let’s hope they’re on schedule.”

Five days ago, a message packet had arrived by FTL ship, announcing that the first trailblazer ship had successfully laid down an iperion path connecting Hellhole and Candela – the first link in the new DZ transportation network. Its significance was akin to the Golden Spike in the transcontinental railroad, an event Adolphus had read about in ancient Earth history. Within weeks, the whole fleet of his carefully coordinated trailblazers would arrive at their destinations throughout the Deep Zone, and all those other planets would soon join the network. But this was the test run.

Rendo looked nervous. “Do you think Candela will just send a volunteer to prove that it can be done? It is an unverified route.”

With a faint smile, Adolphus shook his head. “Administrator Hu is going to be on that first stringline ship. She’d fire anyone who tried to suggest otherwise. Our orbiting hub is fully functional?”

“Eight of the twelve nodes are already operational, General, and the rest are approaching completion. A new one powers up and finishes its shakedown every few days. We’ll be ready for D-Day, sir. Don’t worry.”

Even so, Adolphus had plenty to worry about. The provocative situation practically guaranteed war with the Constellation, but he had to cement his victory so swiftly that the Diadem’s powerful forces would not be able to react in time – even if he had to destroy the Sonjeera-Deep Zone stringline connections on his end. Tanja Hu, one of his closest allies, would operate the first test route, followed closely by Ian Walfor and then his other nine co-conspirators. They had all discreetly acquired their own ships which would be ready to defend the stringline terminus rings from Sonjeera – a single point of vulnerability, no matter how large a fleet the Army of the Constellation sent against them.

Adolphus had received reports from his sleeper cells on the rest of the DZ planets, and over the past six months they had recruited more locals, increased the grassroots level of dissatisfaction with the Diadem’s oppression, even though none of the populations realized that independence might be so close at hand.

He knew he was about to unleash the whirlwind. As closely timed as such incredible distances would allow, trailblazers should arrive at their scattered destinations, unannounced, each installing a terminus ring above a Deep Zone planet. Every eventuality had to be considered and dealt with. With that in mind, secret operatives had been stationed on any DZ world where he and his fellow conspirators felt the planetary administrator might side with the Constellation rather than independence. Those operatives were armed and ready to ensure a swift takeover.

“What about the new connection from here to Buktu? Have we heard from Ian Walfor? He’ll be glad to use fast commercial ships for a change instead of his slow FTL clunkers.”

Theris checked his records, though he must surely have known the answer off the top of his head. “Administrator Walfor flew the trail-blazer himself and should have arrived at Buktu yesterday or the day before. I expect we’ll be receiving him on an inaugural return voyage very soon now. If calculations are correct, the Candela hauler will be here within the hour, sir.”

Seventy minutes later, just before local dawn, the stringline ship from Candela hurtled into the system – a ten-minute error that puzzled the theoreticians and delighted the pragmatic General. Everything was going precisely according to plan. How he wished he could be up there in orbit, sitting in the hub’s command chamber, to receive Tanja Hu directly. But for now he would continue to abide by his promise to the Diadem and remain on the planet; it was a matter of honor.

Except for his handful of allies, the remaining Deep Zone planetary administrators had been kept in the dark about his bold plan. Once the wealth of new opportunities appeared, though, any logical person would see the advantages to the alternative network, even those who still considered themselves patriotic members of the Constellation under Diadem Michella.

However, Adolphus needed to give them something concrete, more than mere words. It was imperative for him to demonstrate the superiority of his vision. It had to
work
.

Rendo Theris touched his earadio and beamed. “Administrator Hu’s vessel has safely docked at the stringline terminus!”

On the shack’s comm screen, the dark-haired Candela woman leaned into the image area. She looked exceptionally pleased. “Permission to come to the surface, General Adolphus?”

“Most enthusiastically granted.”

“Then I’ll be right down.”

Rendo paced nervously around the landing area while the passenger pod descended from the orbital hub, but Adolphus was confident. “Relax, Mr Theris. If we can establish a whole new stringline network, we should be able to land a passenger pod without too much trouble.” He stood under the floodlights. The eastern horizon was suffused with brightening light.

Gazing into the greenish sky, Adolphus tried to catch a glimpse of the descending vehicle. A glint of light was followed by the screech of deceleration engines, and presently the passenger pod landed on one of Ankor’s paved landing areas, within five meters of its projected arrival.

With as much decorum as he could summon, given his pride and excitement, Adolphus marched forward in the dawn to greet Tanja Hu. The pod’s hatch opened, and the dark-haired woman emerged, blinking in the morning light.

Adolphus brusquely shook her hand. “Welcome to our new Hellhole Spaceport, Administrator.”

Tanja looked at the rugged landscape that was still swathed in the shadows of daybreak. “Let me savor this moment, General.” She rapped her knuckles quickly on the pod’s still-steaming hull; if the hot metal burned her knuckles, she showed no sign of it. “After today, none of us in the Deep Zone needs the Constellation anymore.”

I
n her mind – inside Jhera’s life – Antonia remembered the last days of Xaya, the vivid terrors and triumphs before the destruction came. At the end, Jhera and Birzh had clung to the hope that Zairic’s desperate plan would succeed, although they knew how slim the probabilities were . . .

Antonia embraced Devon in the pool – and Birzh was there with him, a part of him, just as Jhera was part of her. Birzh . . . her lover, her companion! After losing each other in the slickwater, they had waited for centuries, and by the force of their love the two Xayans had come together again. Now, all those memories roared into her mind.

In the final weeks before the world ended, Xayan engineers had dug reservoirs all across the world to be filled with the preserved remnants of an entire generation. As powerful telemancers, Jhera and Birzh encouraged their people to go to the nearest reservoir; they showed their frightened fellows what needed to be done to achieve immortality. Dissolving themselves into the slickwater was the best hope they had. Even the skeptics had no argument. The combined strength of the planet’s telemancers was not enough to divert the asteroid, and the impact would kill them all within days.

Ah, but those last days! Each second of life had seemed so desperate, and so fleetingly sweet. The Xayans could not evacuate their planet. Only one faction had the technology to travel among the stars, and they were already gone with some of the most powerful telemancers. Another faction, led by Encix, had squandered their last days digging out and armoring the preservation bunker, in which they placed recordings and artifacts, a sampling of their racial heritage . . . a museum.
A crypt
. But even if their plans succeeded, Encix could preserve only five Original Xayans; the rest of the population had no chance of surviving.