Scattered Suns (55 page)

Chapter 117—SAREIN

After a roundabout journey that delivered a number of green priests and treelings to Hansa colonies, Sarein finally returned to Earth. It seemed as if she hadn’t been there in decades. She hoped Basil would be glad to have her back, even though events had not turned out exactly as he’d wanted. She looked forward to seeing him and realized she felt too thrilled, too giddy. Completely unprofessional. She didn’t want to earn his scorn. She would have to be careful.

When Sarein made her way to his penthouse offices at the top of the Hansa HQ pyramid, the Chairman was in a foul, almost violent mood.

Deputy Eldred Cain, flustered to the point of outright anxiety, backed out of the office door. He took one look at Sarein, and his expression shifted strangely. “You’re welcome to see the Chairman if you have good news. If something
else
has gone terribly wrong, however, I’d advise you to wait until a better time.”

Sarein hadn’t seen Basil in weeks. “I’ll take my chances.” She did not like to admit how much she had missed him—not just the lovemaking, but the conversations, the feeling that she was part of a hugely important tapestry of government. She wanted to shed the images of burned Theroc that still clung to her mind. “I’ll be fine.” She pushed past Cain and entered the Chairman’s offices.

Basil looked up at her with a sudden, uncomprehending glare. “You’re interrupting me right now.”

“Hello to you, too, Basil. I hoped my arrival would be a pleasant surprise.”

He looked at her like a scientist inspecting a specimen. His gray eyes were cold, and she felt a shiver. “A pleasant surprise would’ve been for you to stay on Theroc and become their leader. We discussed this. What are you doing here?”

With all the strength and confidence she possessed, Sarein strolled toward where he sat at his projection desk. She refused to show how his reaction had stung her. “And plans change, Basil.” She smiled triumphantly, anxious to please him. “But I still accomplished the most important part of the job. I’ve enlisted dozens of new green priests. Several have already been stationed on Hansa colonies, and more are waiting for transport aboard any of our ships that will take them from Theroc.”

Reserving judgment, Basil stared at her, unwilling to let his mood crack. “Continue.”

“The Therons are convinced, with good reason, that the hydrogues will attack what’s left of the worldforest again. Considering the extent of the devastation last time, they’re afraid the worldtrees will all be destroyed. They need the Hansa’s help implementing an exhaustive program to disperse treelings as widely as possible—in exchange for which the Hansa will get green priests on world after world, ship after ship.” She beamed. “It’s exactly what you wanted.”

“I suppose it’s not a total disaster.”

She came around the desk and began to massage his tense shoulders, but she might as well have been trying to knead a statue. “Now, after that extremely lukewarm welcome, are you going to tell me what’s got you so furious?”

“Which of the thousand things? The Roamers? The destroyed colony on Corribus? Klikiss robots disappearing? The possibility that our Soldier compies are ticking time bombs throughout the EDF? Hydrogues attacking our planets again?”

Sarein drew a deep breath, buffeted by news of all the emergencies she hadn’t known about. “All right, which one made Eldred Cain slink out of here like a whipped puppy a few minutes ago?”

Basil moved his fingers across the desktop and displayed newsnet reports with media images. “The rumor is unverified but rampant. We can’t possibly deny it—nor can I figure out how the hell it leaked!”

Sarein scanned the notices. “Estarra is pregnant?” She was thrilled for her sister, and their parents would be delighted. It was the first child of the next generation. “That’s wonderful—”

Basil lurched to his feet, jarring his lukewarm cup of cardamom coffee. “Peter defied me! I instructed him and the Queen not to have children until I gave them permission. They tried to keep the pregnancy secret from me, but I found out—and ordered Estarra to have an abortion.”

“Basil! That is uncalled for.” Then Sarein narrowed her eyes. Not long ago, something terrible had passed between the Chairman and the King. Estarra had even suggested that Basil had planned to assassinate the two of them; when Sarein queried the Chairman about it, he had denied—rather,
dismissed
—the idea. And now this absurd suggestion...

He continued to talk, moving like a steamroller back and forth behind his desk. “After I showed Peter what I had done to Daniel, I thought he’d cause less trouble. I already had the abortion doctors lined up for later today, and we could have covered the Queen’s visit as a routine medical exam—”

Growing more and more disturbed, Sarein had trouble following everything. “What did you do to Prince Daniel?”

“Somehow the story got loose among the media this morning! After laying out my threat, I kept Peter under close surveillance. He had no outside contact. None! So where did this rumor come from?” Basil’s shoulders were hunched. “And now I have to find some way to respond. Peter
cannot
be allowed to defy me like this, but now I can’t make an obvious move against the King and Queen. Daniel is a complete failure, and Peter is out of control. This is another disaster.”

Looking at Basil, Sarein felt him becoming a stranger, someone she could no longer understand or sympathize with. She experienced a twinge of dread for her sister, unable to believe that Basil would just snap his fingers and force Estarra to terminate a pregnancy against her wishes. This wasn’t the Basil Wenceslas for whom she cared so much. And though she felt a closer political alliance to him than to Theroc, Estarra was her family!

Perhaps she could talk him through this knot of bad decisions. Whether he realized it or not, Basil obviously needed the support of someone who cared about him. Sarein tried to rub his shoulders again. “I just got back home, Basil. If you give me an hour, I could arrange for a relaxing lunch in my quarters. It would do you good to take a break so you can see the solutions more clearly. Surely we can figure out a way to make this pregnancy into a politically advantageous situation.”

He gave her a dismissive wave, gesturing for her to get out of the office. “I have work to do and plans to make. I need to show King Peter exactly where he stands before he tries something else.”

Chapter 118—CELLI

The first new groups of green priests had taken their treelings across the Spiral Arm, and additional bastions of the worldforest were being planted on diverse worlds to preserve them from the hydrogues. Green priests had been doing the same thing for more than a century, but never in such substantial numbers.

Over the past three days, Celli had spent an exhausting and exhilarating time with Solimar, treedancing and jump-starting the release of deep energy from the verdani. Not only was it much more fun than clearing deadwood, she could feel their own energy swell as they set loose the locked-away reserves inside the worldtrees. It was like throwing cold water into the face of a sleeping giant. Even Solimar was still amazed by the life they squeezed out of the damaged forest. After so many months, Theroc seemed to be getting to its feet again.

Sitting together, sweating in the filtered sunlight after a particularly vigorous session, Celli leaned against Solimar. His green skin was warm, his muscles strong and as comforting as the fronds of the giant trees. “I could get used to this,” she said.

He kissed her, wiped a smear of soot from her cheek, then kissed her again. “I could get used to
this,
” he said, and she giggled.

Suddenly he sat bolt upright, startling her. “Beneto is calling us. All of us. Quick! It’s a long way back, and we have to hurry!”

Though her arms and legs ached, she ran with him back to his gliderbike. Half an hour later, when they arrived beneath the fungus-reef city, agitated-looking green priests were gathered in restless clusters, staring toward the sky. Some farther away had found healthy worldtrees and stood connected by telink so they could listen to what Beneto had to say.

In the clearing the wooden golem formed a focal point for the worldforest’s energy and thoughts. The scorched remnants of the tallest trees began to twitch and tremble, brushing fronds together like a group of ancient warriors rattling their swords.

Even without a direct telink connection, Celli felt a shudder go down her back. Something was very wrong. Everyone around her looked sharply upward, shading their eyes. Celli could feel an unmistakable fear that echoed like a gunshot across the telink network—not just in the immediate worldforest, but from planet to planet, everywhere a treeling had taken root.

Celli grabbed Solimar’s hand. “Is it the hydrogues? Are they coming?” When she felt him trembling with revulsion at an impending threat, Celli grew more frightened than ever. She looked over at Beneto, hoping for answers.

Though her brother’s voice was quiet, the wind and the trees carried it far. “Yes. The hydrogues. We knew it would happen.”

The green priests touched the scaled trunks of the worldtrees, trying to knit their strength together so they could stand firm.

“But you said help would be here, Beneto,” Celli insisted. “You told us you heard a call go out to some ancient allies. If they don’t get here soon, they’ll have to hold a funeral without us.”

The golem who faced her with swirl-grained eyes looked heartachingly like her lost brother. When she was a child, Beneto had been one of her closest friends...but now he seemed beyond Celli’s comprehension.

“Yes, they have been traveling since the first hydrogue attack on Corvus Landing, where I died. But they are still too far away. Our allies will not arrive in time.”

For an hour, the giant sentient trees rustled and rattled, and the gathered people looked to Beneto’s statuesque form, as if he would tell them what to do. He stood frozen, as much a part of the frightened scene as the towering trees.

Yarrod muttered, “At least all the treelings we sent out will be safe.”

“We won’t be,” said a pale-skinned woman.

Celli heard an outcry, and green priests pointed at something in the sky. In the bright sunlight, she saw a flare of light, reflections off curved diamond hulls, the glint of sharp protrusions that held blue lightning.

The hydrogues converged high overhead, one warglobe after another, and descended once more upon the worldforest.

Regrown worldtrees shuddered as icewaves curled out from the attacking spheres. The air itself seemed to turn brittle and shatter. Panicked Therons ran to seek shelter. Some of the green priests stood still, defeated, not knowing what else to do.

Yarrod slowly dropped to his knees. “All of our work. The worldforest is still weak. We cannot withstand this.”

Celli grabbed his shoulder. “Come on, Uncle! We have to do something. Some of the trees have recovered. Isn’t there any way they can fight back? Like Reynald made them do before!” She looked frantically for Beneto.

Many Therons scrambled away from the dense trees, even though they knew from the earlier attack that there was no safe place to hide.

A warglobe cruised low overhead, and blue lightning crackled out like spiderwebs across the crowns of the trees, causing them to erupt. Sparking fire caught the weakened wood, and the flames began to grow.

The Beneto golem stood in the middle of the Stonehenge-like ring of burned trunks like a priest in a sacred temple. His wooden eyes were closed, and he stood with carved fists clenched at his sides, his face turned to the sky as if listening to a far-off voice. Was he calling for help? Listening for a response? Who, or what, could possibly aid the worldforest?

During the last devastating attack here, the faeros had arrived, but they were uncertain allies. Ultimately, their assistance had caused as much damage as the warglobes had, and Sarein had said that the faeros themselves were losing in the face of the hydrogue onslaught. What else could save them?

The warglobe bombardment increased.

Celli and Solimar ran together to the uncertain shelter of the tall tree that supported the reconstructed fungus-reef city. Her parents were climbing vine ladders to reach the structure, as if going higher might help them. Celli pointed. “Whatever they’re doing, I want to join them. I just...I just need to be with them.”

Solimar nodded. “I’m coming with you.”

Moving with treedancer grace, the two of them scrambled up the side of the worldtree. Overhead, booming explosions cracked like amplified thunder across the sky. Warglobes swept cascades of frigid wind over their former battlefield, laying down electrical destruction.

Celli rushed to the main throne room. Exposed pipes and support girders covered the walls where Roamers had shored up the damaged structure. Clan engineers had improved the city’s plumbing and power networks, added conveniences that were far more modern than the Theron settlers were used to—including a new communications system.

Idriss stood in front of the bank of transmitters, baffled. Alexa looked up at her daughter’s arrival. “Celli, you should take shelter. Go where it’s safe.”

The girl put her hands on her narrow hips. “And where would that be, Mother? If I could think of a place, I’d drag
you
there!”

“There won’t be any shelter unless we can send a transmission to the hydrogues,” Idriss said. “Or call for help.”

“A transmission?” Celli said in a squawk. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea to me.”

“What makes you think they’ll listen?” Solimar asked. “They mean to destroy the worldforest.”

Willfully ignoring the question, Idriss pointed in frustration at the controls. “Is it this one?”

Solimar hurried forward. “If you insist on this, then let me show you.” Always mechanically inclined, he had an intuitive grasp of comm systems and other technology.

“You know what the hydrogues are, Father,” Celli said. “Do you really expect them to respond?”

Idriss glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked much older than she had ever seen him. “The green priests are already sending messages through telink, but the hydrogues will have slaughtered us before anyone can get here.”

Solimar stepped back, and the system hummed. “It’s ready to transmit. Prepped for a full spectrum of frequencies.”

Idriss took the controls. “This is Father Idriss of the Theron people. We are a peaceful people, who have done nothing to you. Please leave us alone. We are not your enemies.”

Celli looked hard at her bearded father. “The hydrogues have always considered the verdani their enemies. Because
we
work for the trees, they hate us—all of us. They will not stop until this entire planet is a cinder.”

“We demand to meet with an ambassador, like you sent to Earth,” Idriss stated, sounding ridiculously naive, for he had already seen the hydrogues devastate the forests. His voice was plaintive. “Please do not do this.”

The response that came back over the new communications system surprised them all. And it wasn’t from the hydrogues. It was a human voice. “Don’t worry, we’ll protect you.” Then a pause. “I hope this works.”

Mother Alexa leaned over the transmitter. “Who is this? Please help us, whoever you are.”

“Oh, sorry. This is Kotto Okiah. Looks like we arrived not a moment too soon. Those drogues won’t know what hit them...uh, if my calculations are correct.”

Celli remembered the eccentric Roamer engineer, whose ambitious schemes had helped rebuild the Theron settlements. When the last Roamer workers had fled, knowing the EDF was hunting them down, the clan members had been fully aware that the hydrogues were bound to return to Theroc.

Celli rushed to one of the open windows in the thick fungus-reef wall. Although it seemed impossible that the renegade space gypsies would have any effective weapon against the warglobes, it made more sense than her father’s ill-advised attempt at negotiation.

In the sky, she saw a ragtag group of Roamer ships, a dozen battered old vessels, each of a different design. The warglobes seemed to ignore the small craft, probably considering them irrelevant. Without pausing, the clan ships flew in to face the giant spiked spheres. Celli couldn’t imagine what they were thinking. The Roamers looked totally doomed.