Hellhole (57 page)

Sophie turned to her son. “Devon, show our honored guest to her tent. She can wait there until we have further news for her.”

In the intervening hours, Keana walked around the camp, looking at the slickwater pools and listening to cult members talk about their alien memories. Her reaction alternated between amusement towards the gullible listeners and a visceral discomfort upon seeing their absolute conviction. Could it be real?

Her tent was cramped, but she convinced herself to endure. Another hour passed, and another. Other visitors moved into tents near hers, and settlement workers found constant busy work nearby; Keana was sure she was being watched closely.

Near nightfall, Sophie Vence finally parted the fabric door and stood framed in the tent opening. “I was tempted to let General Adolphus know that you’re here, so he could come deal with you himself.”

Keana was surprised. “But I’m not here for him. I only came to find Louis’s son. It has nothing to do with politics.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows. “You’re the Diadem’s daughter, so everything you do has political ramifications.” She sighed. “The General has more pressing matters anyway, so I took it upon myself to contact Cristoph.”

Keana was ready to scramble out of the tent and go anywhere to meet him. “Is he here?”

Sophie groaned, unable to believe the princess’s stupidity. “With settlements and facilities all across the continent, did you expect him just to be in the neighborhood? Cristoph has an important job in a high-security area, and he’s hours away, but I spoke to him over a military codecall line. I let him know you’re here.”

Keana prepared herself for disappointment. “When can I see him?”

“He could be here as soon as tomorrow morning,
if
he decides to come.”

“Thank you. That’s wonderful news!”

Sophie turned to go. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for Cristoph, on the off chance you can be helpful. But in case you’re here for other reasons, Princess, I’ve got my people keeping an eye on you.” With that, she left the tent and walked off into the night.

T
he new stringline network was a symbol of commerce, liberty, financial control, and independence from the repressive government. D-Day would be upon them within a week; some of the trailblazer ships should already be arriving at their destinations. If everything went according to plan, the sudden activation of the new network would deal a crippling blow to the Constellation government. And Diadem Michella Duchenet was not likely to react well.

After successfully testing the new line from Candela, Tanja Hu remained at Ankor for a while to help manage the final preparations. Two days after her arrival, Ian Walfor arrived from Buktu, his ship taking a second position in the orbiting hub. Orbiting construction workers scrambled to complete the last nodes in time, since Adolphus expected a flood of ships soon.

After ten years, the Diadem’s watchdogs had grown lax, focusing mainly on the General without caring about the veterans who had served him during the rebellion. At one time, they’d been prepared to give their lives in his cause; now, those loyal men and women were ready to carry out other assignments. Many had already been distributed among the other DZ worlds, ready to move as soon as the stringline network was established. Adolphus had every confidence in them.

When his passenger pod landed at Ankor, Walfor jovially shook the General’s hand and surprised Tanja by sweeping her into a bearlike hug. “I’m going to have to change my business model, General, but I wasn’t making much money with those old FTL ships. I prefer stringline travel: it’s faster, cheaper, and not nearly so boring.”

Tanja asked, “Doesn’t a lot of your revenue come from producing and supplying old starship fuel and maintaining the outmoded ships?”

Walfor wasn’t worried. “My people will do fine. There’ll be plenty of niches open in the new network. We’ll need ships and linerunners and maintenance, and I can convert a lot of my old ships into trailblazers to lay down more stringlines using Candela’s iperion.”

Tanja huffed. “Not so fast. I’ve spent all my altruism to get this crazy project off the ground. If you’re going to haul iperion from my mines, then I demand fair compensation.”

“Ah well, we can negotiate. We’ve always had to be flexible. There’s plenty of work to go around, without sacrificing our earnings to keep the Diadem in jewels and expensive perfumes.”

Adolphus laughed. “We’re all on the same page.”

The Ankor production facilities had already been building the frameworks of new stringline haulers and sending them up to orbit. Those vessels would shuttle back and forth along the fresh quantum pathways to demonstrate that the system was indeed a viable, and preferable, alternative to the Constellation monopoly.

Joint trade agreements had already been negotiated among Hallholme, Buktu, and Candela, creating a model for similar treaties with other Deep Zone planets. Inside the lobby of the newly built and virtually empty Ankor Hotel, Tanja outlined her ambitious plans for the secondary expanded network. On her drawings, string-line routes radiated from Candela to other DZ planets. Soon all of the frontier worlds would be connected in an intricate system that was no longer constrained by the bottleneck of one particular leader or planet.

Adolphus swelled with pride. “Your plans are even more ambitious than mine, Tanja – not that I mind. But will we have enough iperion to lay down all these lines?”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. My geologists have done extensive mapping and assessment – the iperion vein we’ve been mining is just a fraction of Candela’s assets. We already found three more huge deposits. It makes the Vielinger operations look like an appetizer, compared to Candela’s feast.”

Walfor grinned. “And wouldn’t the Diadem love to know about that!”

General Tiber Adolphus liked to plan for the long term, assuming success as a first principle. But before those dreams could reach fruition, he and all of his co-conspirators faced a great obstacle – they had to prevent, or at least
survive
, a war against the immensely powerful Constellation.

I
n her uncomfortable tent, Keana slept little. After months of searching, she felt anxious, nervous, even lightheaded at the knowledge that she might see Cristoph in the morning. This would be their first actual meeting, and they could talk about how much they both missed his father.

But Keana also needed to relive the nightmares of finding her beloved Louis dead and how helpless she had felt in the face of overwhelming treachery and politics. From now on, she and Cristoph would be joined by common tragedy. They would take care of each other. Soon, it would be all right.

Outside she heard mysterious whispers and bubbles from the fenced-in slickwater pools. Her mother would be appalled to see her now. The ground felt hard beneath her – not at all like the comfortable and spacious bed she had shared with Louis de Carre in those bright, glorious days . . .

Though Keana had failed in countless ways, she
would
rescue Louis’s son. One good thing. She would insist that he come back with her to Sonjeera, maybe find a way to restore his good name, or at least make his life more secure. He didn’t have to stay here on . . . Hellhole. What an apt name!

Over and over, she practiced conversations in her head, working out how their reunion would go. She was intrigued by Sophie Vence’s comment that he held an important job in a high-security area. What responsibilities had Administrator Adolphus given him? Cristoph seemed to be doing well, better than she had expected, so he must be talented, resourceful, and determined. But she could help him do better.

She lay awake in her lonely shelter with a contented smile on her face. Her pillow was so flat that she had to fold it to make it thick enough to support her head. After long, restless hours she dozed fitfully.

At dawn, she heard people rustling, probably curiosity seekers venturing toward the slickwater pools. She had already seen their eager faces, the unreasoning hope, the possibility of a second chance at life. The shadow-Xayans answered questions, encouraged people, and helped potential converts make up their minds. Just after Louis’s death, Keana might have been tempted to seek such an escape herself.

A shadow fell across the fabric of her tent. A man’s voice spoke. “Keana Duchenet? Are you in there?”

Her pulse sped up, and she scrambled out of the tent. She recognized Cristoph instantly from the pictures she had studied. But he was no longer dressed in the fine noble clothes from his portrait. His brown hair was cut in a short serviceable style; his face was dusty and leaner than his picture. His hard demeanor seemed at odds with the smiling portrait she had memorized.

She sucked in a breath, broke into a smile. She longed to throw her arms around him in an embrace. “Cristoph, I’ve been searching for you! The Constellation tried to cover up your whereabouts, but I—”

“You have a lot of nerve to come here.” His voice was implacable. He stood like a stone pillar, frowning down at her.

Shocked and confused, Keana took a cautious step toward him. “I am so glad to see you’re, safe. I’ve been worried about you. Are you all right?”

He glared. “I lost everything because of you and your political schemes, and how you manipulated my father.”

“But . . . I loved your father! Louis was the only real thing in my life. Everything else was just trappings. When I lost him, I lost it all – just as you did. And I’m here to help you. I want to make your life better. Come back with me to Sonjeera. We’ll find a way to fix things.”

“If you hadn’t seduced my father and flaunted your affair, scorning all propriety, he would never have allowed his holdings to fall into such disarray. The Riominis couldn’t have made their move.” His voice grew in volume as his anger swelled. “Because of you, my father was arrested and charged with countless crimes.
Because of you
, he killed himself, unable to face the shame!”

Tears streamed down her face. “No, that isn’t true. We were in love.” But her heart told her that she did bear some responsibility.

The young man wasn’t finished. “After he met you, he could think of nothing else, and the rest was inevitable. You didn’t care what anybody thought, did you? Your mother disapproved of the relationship, the people of Vielinger cried out at the neglect – and what did you do? Nothing! You lived a fantasy life with my father in your Cottage.”

Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely breathe. “You can’t blame our love for everything.”

“No. I’m blaming
you
for everything.”

His words beat her like cudgels, hurting her terribly. She didn’t want to hear anymore, yet she couldn’t turn away. “But I came to help you. I kept searching until I found you here.”

“For what? To destroy what little dignity I’ve managed to rebuild here on Hellhole? You Duchenets certainly are thorough.”

Her legs threatened to give way under her. This wasn’t what she had visualized; it wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. She grasped for any way to get closer to Cristoph and make him forgive her. She needed him as a last link, a fragile reminder of his father. “I want to save you. You’ve suffered great injustice – let me help.”

“I’ve seen your kind of help.” He made a disgusted sound.

“It wasn’t my fault or your father’s. The Riominis used our romance as an excuse to make their political move, but the Black Lord would have found any way to take control from your family. Nothing was going to stop him.”

“You’re wrong. My father could have prevented it, but he forgot about his people. I ran the business and the mines as well as I could, but
he
had the political connections. You made him powerless.” Cristoph held up a blocking hand before she could say another word. “No! Despite the disgrace you brought to my family, I’ve created a good life for myself here. Go back to Sonjeera – and don’t ever try to contact me again.” His words burned through her like acid. He strode off, not caring that others in the settlement had gathered around to observe the loud argument.

As she watched him leave, Keana felt more dead than alive, nearly as devastated as when she had found Louis lying in a pool of his own blood.