Read The Saga of Seven Suns: Veiled Alliances Online
Authors: Kevin J. Anderson
Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General
The Saga of Seven Suns: Veiled Alliances (9 page)
16
MADELEINE ROBINSON
For two weeks, the Solar Navy warliners skipped across the star systems, hopscotching from planet to planet to deliver new scouts. Exploration teams took shuttles down to the uncharted worlds, launched survey satellites, set up mapping equipment. Madeleine wondered how she and her two boys could do all of the work themselves.
Chairman Stannis was impatient and wanted to have overviews of as many planets as possible, as quickly as possible. She realized that most of the first wave of scouts were either daring pioneers or, more likely, people just like her who needed to work. Although some of the scouts wanted to compare notes or tell tall tales, Madeleine and the boys kept to themselves in the small cabin assigned to them. She didn’t feel like telling her story to listeners, sympathetic or otherwise.
Madeleine and Duncan had married young with dreams of seeing the world. But why stop there? Why not see the other worlds in the solar system, too? They traveled as much as they could on a shoestring budget. Madeleine fancied herself a travel writer and used that as an excuse to justify their far-flung trips, although she never made much money at her work.
When Duncan got a job at a spaceport loading dock, it was supposed to be a temporary position so they could raise money for a trip to the Moon or Europa. But once Madeleine got pregnant, they needed the stability, so Duncan kept the job, worked his way into a permanent position with a solid salary and benefits. Madeleine worked several other jobs herself while taking care of baby Derek, saving up money so they could take other trips, although travel was an entirely different proposition now that they were parents instead of footloose explorers. She didn’t mind.
After a few years she and Duncan decided they liked being parents well enough that they had a second child, Jacob. She continued to write the occasional travel article, though she had to content herself with exploring the solar system vicariously by reading the reports of other travelers. They still took a family trip each year, and when the boys grew old enough to take part, the Robinsons grew more adventurous.
Derek made up his mind that he wanted to be a cargo ship pilot or work on an interplanetary passenger shuttle. His father pulled strings with his contacts at the spaceport loading dock and got the boy signed on as a summer intern on an Earth-Moon shuttle.
But then Duncan had been killed in the accident, and all the sympathetic offers of help faded into awkward embarrassment. Then came lawsuits, financial ruin, further agony . . . and desperation.
And finally a new chance.
Septar Gro’nh was the captain of this warliner, shuttling human volunteers to uncharted planets. During the voyage, the Ildiran leader took the time to meet each party personally, and Madeleine found the Septar to be a soft-spoken, respectable man.
She and the boys were eating a quiet meal inside their cabin when Gro’nh presented himself at their door. “Madeleine Robinson, our warliner will soon arrive at your destination. Please make your final preparations.”
“Already?” Madeleine set her spoon down.
Derek leaped to his feet. “I’m ready to go. I feel cooped up on this ship.”
The Septar gave them a wry smile. “Ildirans enjoy being crowded together. We take comfort from one another’s presence. But you . . . you will be very alone on that planet.”
“That’s the idea,” Madeleine said, leaving her meal unfinished. “Thank you, Septar. We’ll meet you in the shuttle bay. Hurry up, boys—gather our equipment.” Derek and Jacob quickly packed their sacks, sealed up crates, and handed everything to TZ. Madeleine rounded up the last of the things that they had scattered around their temporary cabin. When they were ready, the compy trudged along with his burden of packages down to the shuttle bay.
The Ildirans had already provided Madeleine with a file that contained everything on record about the planet they would be surveying.
Llaro
: a dry and rocky place with a large habitable landmass, and the Robinsons would be there, alone, for seven weeks, until the warliner retrieved them. The Ildiran records included only sketchy details on Llaro, because they simply weren’t interested in the planet. Their vast empire had stopped expanding thousands of years ago.
The Ildirans generously offered a large shuttle for each survey party, camp supplies, and a fast one-person recon skimmer for mapping; a designated craft waited for them in the warliner’s launching bay.
Madeleine regarded the alien vessel as they entered the bay. “Apparently, the controls are intuitive and have a standard configuration.”
Derek grinned to see the sleek, half-dome-shaped ship. “Don’t worry, Mom—I can fly it.” The boys had spent a lot of time during the voyage playing in the simulator room.
Septar Gro’nh bade them farewell as they boarded their scout shuttle. “You will be alone down there, but we are scheduled to return in seven weeks. You have reviewed the information? I apologize that we are unable to provide you with any further data.”
She raised her chin. “Don’t worry, Septar. We’ll find out what there is to know and then make our report. That’s why the Hansa sent us.”
He responded with a grave nod. “Nevertheless, exercise caution. You may be surprised by what you find—Llaro was once a home to the KIikiss race. If you search, no doubt you will find ruins of some of their ancient cities.”
Madeleine caught her breath. Abandoned alien ruins? That detail had not been included in the reports. “The Klikiss? I thought you said the Ildiran empire had never encountered another intelligent race?”
The Septar considered his answer. “Not another living race. The Klikiss died out long before our empire formed.”
From the shuttle’s cockpit, Jacob yelled, “Come on, Mom! They’re in orbit already.”
The Septar gave a brief bow. “Good luck to you, Madeleine Robinson. We will retrieve you soon.”
“Thank you . . . for everything,” she said, then felt a lump in her throat. “For a second chance.”
At his insistence, she allowed Derek to pilot the shuttle. She knew how much practice he had put in and realized it was also good to give him the responsibility. Sitting at the Ildiran controls, Derek was confident as he took them down toward the planet, concentrating on their course, staring through the broad windowport.
“See, I told you, Mom. The shuttle is as easy as piloting a hovercar back on Earth.” He laughed. “Only there’s not as much traffic.”
As they descended, Madeleine glanced up at the giant Ildiran warliner dwindling in the distance, then turned her attention to the world below. Llaro.
“Find us a good place to make a base camp, Derek. You’ve got the whole world . . . and we’re on our own.”
The warliner was gone by the time they orbited back from the night side. Using their broad-range scanners, Madeleine took an initial survey of the continents, and before Derek spotted what might one of the ancient Klikiss cities. The Ildiran shuttle approached the surface.
By now, petulant because his brother did all the flying and his mother wouldn’t let him take a turn at the controls, Jacob threw himself on one of the small bunks and gazed up at the ceiling while the compy stood by. “Just pick someplace and land!” Jacob groaned. “It’ll probably be boring. Right, TZ?”
The skies were a lush pastel orange, splashed with highlights of lavender and lemon. The shuttle descended toward a cluster of incredible extraterrestrial ruins that looked like a cross between towering freeform skyscrapers and organic termite mounds from the African savannah.
The towers were lumpy, pocked with various openings . . . but apparently empty. The Klikiss city was abandoned, falling into disrepair. Madeleine saw no roads, ramps, or staircases, merely numerous protrusions.
“No,” she finally responded to Jacob’s comment. “I don’t think we’ll be bored.”
17
CAPTAIN CHRYSTA LOGAN
As her pregnancy grew, she felt closer to Rekar’h, happier and more content with her relationship, her position, and her new life here than she had ever been aboard the damaged
Burton
.
The Designate had recently returned from his trip to Ildira. As the two of them entered the human settlement along a lane between thriving grain fields, she held onto his arm and said, “This colony is becoming everything we’ve dreamed of. It represents the best of both of our races.”
She touched the swell of her belly, and Rekar’h placed his hand on top of hers. He said, “Joining humans and Ildirans was the right thing to do. I have high hopes for our child—as does the Mage-Imperator. He gave me a specific mission, and I will need your help with the other humans. There are many interesting questions to which we would like to find answers.”
Human and Ildiran children picked vegetables from long green garden rows. Burly Ildiran worker kithmen harvested tall stalks of wheat, while humans walked alongside, carrying baskets on their shoulders to gather up the grain. They worked well together, telling stories and jokes, each trying to comprehend their counterparts.
“What sort of answers?” Chrysta asked.
“My father is intrigued to know the possibilities of humans interbreeding with various Ildiran kiths. You and I should not be the only ones. The Mage-Imperator would like to encourage human interbreeding with Ildirans.”
“I didn’t need to have my arm twisted,” she said with a smile, “but you can’t just command it of our colonists. I have no objections, so long as the people choose to do so.”
His expression showed he was completely serious. “From a scientific standpoint, mixing our various kiths with your human DNA could benefit both of our races.”
“Hybrid vigor.” She nodded, contemplating. “I can sense that our child will be wonderful. You and I are so much alike, destined to be partners . . . but frankly, we don’t find all Ildiran kiths as attractive as you are, my love. In fact, the soldier kithmen, the diggers, and workers look . . . brutish to us. Some might even say monstrous.”
The Dobro Designate was troubled. “I am surprised to hear this. We see them all as Ildirans. Most kiths breed with their own kind, but there have been many successful mixtures. The form of the body is just an adaptation to circumstances.”
“I’m just warning you that there will be resistance among some of the
Burton
colonists, and you can’t force them.” Her eyes sparkled, knowing how much joy Rekar’h had brought her. “But I will express my encouragement. If even a few of the people agree, they will provide examples to show that these partnerships can be viable. Then others will be more willing to follow.”
Chrysta gazed at all the people working together. Her mood soured as she spotted a man with a drooping black moustache and long dark hair wrapped in a purple bandanna. During their time here on Dobro, Ramirez had begun on his best behavior, terrified she would execute him as an example, the appropriate punishment for mutineers as recorded in the
Burton
’s ancient maritime records. Chrysta had been true to her word, but she had never stopped watching him.
Rather than accepting his second chance with good grace, Ramirez had begun to complain again. She’d heard reports that he was trying to convince others that she had led the settlement long enough and should be overthrown.
She would have to nip that in the bud. Dario Ramirez needed a reminder.
“I know someone who would make a great example for others to follow—someone with experience leading movements.” She gave a quick snort, liking her idea more and more. “Plenty of weak-willed ones have done far worse things at his encouragement. Now he can be useful as a new kind of trailblazer.”
The Designate looked curiously at her. “Are you certain?”
She raised her chin. “Bring your female soldier kithmen—the strongest, most powerful ones—and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Even Chrysta shuddered when she saw the monstrous females who came forward: muscular, with severe features, broad shoulders, and thick claws. Tufts of hair grew from their ears and chins, and their brows were heavy. They looked like ogres.
Perfect.
She led them to Dario Ramirez, who worked with a small crew installing tiles in a drainage ditch. Ramirez pressed a hand to his back and wiped his brow, watching the labor more than getting his own hands dirty. His companions stopped working as they saw Chrysta, the Dobro Designate, and the female soldier kithmen approaching. Ramirez looked up with a nervous smile. “What? What do you want?”
She had long since stopped worrying about unrest among the
Burton
’s crew. The mutiny had been a temporary insanity, best forgotten. Their diligence during the colony setup proved their repentance, and Chrysta simply didn’t speak of the matter anymore. But she had not forgotten.
Ignoring him, she turned to Rekar’h. “This is Dario Ramirez, who wants to be a leader among our people. He will be your first volunteer.” The two brutish females came forward, looking at the man skeptically; one of them poked him, as if testing how easily he might be damaged.
“I haven’t done anything,” Ramirez said, his voice a thinly veiled whine.
“Perhaps not recently,” Chrysta said. “But that is about to change.”
“You are going to become a new sort of ambassador, Mr. Ramirez. The Ildiran Mage-Imperator has encouraged our two races to join, and you will provide a shining example. These two soldier-kith females are your new mates.” Ramirez paled, and Chrysta took great pleasure in adding, “I hear they’re vigorous, energetic lovers.”
His mouth dropped open in horror, and he tried to bolt, but the two female soldiers held him by the arms. They lifted him off the ground and examined him as if he were a new plaything.
“Captain Logan, tell them to let me go!”
“Do with him what you will,” the Designate said to the soldier females. “Enjoy yourselves, but do not injure him. Just make certain you get pregnant.”
Ramirez wailed. “No, don’t do this, Captain!”
Chrysta looked at the man without pity. “For four years you’ve wanted to prove your loyalty to me, haven’t you, Mr. Ramirez? This is your chance, and it’s high time you pulled your weight in this colony.”
And it was a fitting enough punishment for a mutineer.