Hellhole: Awakening (34 page)

“Anything would be a welcome change from the regular flavors,” he said. “Thank you.”

The guards noted nothing suspicious, but the server met Goler’s eyes in a furtive glance. A feathery thrill raised goose bumps on Goler’s skin, and he fought down any visible reaction. The server departed, while the guard remained at the door. Goler said wryly, “Are you going to stare at me, or can I eat in peace?”

“I’ve got my own lunch to eat.” The guard sealed the door, and Goler remained seated. His heart was pounding. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, or if he had misinterpreted the man. General Adolphus had many loyalists here in the Crown Jewels, but Goler had no way to contact them. Had they gotten into the prison somehow?

He scanned the food, sure someone must be observing his every movement through hidden spy cameras. He took a bite of a chewy, bland dumpling, then ate some of the ground meat. He found no message hidden beneath the pile of sournuts.

Casually he picked up a nut, tossed it into his mouth, and bit down through the bitter crust. He ate a second one. This one was juicier, and made his lips pucker. He had always enjoyed sournuts, especially as a child. His mother had once told him that if he ate too many, his face would take on a permanent grimace.

When Goler bit down on a third nut, he felt an unfamiliar crunch, with a metallic undertone. He froze, afraid he would cut his mouth. Then tiny circuitry implanted in the sournut sent vibrations through his molars in a precise pattern that thrummed through his jaw, attuned to his bone structure. Words echoed inside his skull, which he heard clearly in his ear canals, but they were audible to no one else in the room.

“Governor Goler, this message is from Enva Tazaar. Because the Diadem controls the prison, it is not possible for me to free you, but you can still send me an answer.” She spoke in a rapid-fire fusillade of words, and he realized that the small word-transmitting device implanted in the sournut probably had a limited capacity. “If General Adolphus is amenable to my offer of an alliance, provided that we remove Michella Duchenet from power, then cross your utensils on the plate when they are to be retrieved. If the General does not wish an alliance, then leave them to the side. I already have plans in place, and I can move quickly. Once I’m on the Star Throne, you will be granted amnesty, and the Crown Jewels and Deep Zone can begin to—”

Her words cut off as the message device was exhausted. Goler chewed and swallowed to destroy any evidence. Meticulously, he ate the rest of the ground meat and dumplings, then finished the remaining sournuts, contemplating what he had heard. When he was finished, he crossed the utensils over the top of the empty plate and waited for the tray to be retrieved.

*   *   *

Something about the man who delivered food to Governor Goler alerted Ishop Heer. Ishop’s suspicions were easily triggered—that was why he did his job so well—but he took no chances.

By habit, he’d been keeping an eye on the Sonjeera prison. He had been in these dank corridors many times doing the Diadem’s business, much of it behind closed doors with the security eyes deactivated.

In this building, he had killed Louis de Carre, who was more of a fool than a threat. That had been messy work, made to look as if the man had committed suicide by slashing his own wrists. It was also sad in a way. The haughty nobleman had clung to his family pride even after squandering most of his wealth, but when Ishop came to kill him he had been blubbering and terrified, sobbing Keana’s name as the assassin forced him to write a suicide note. On his Vielinger estate, he’d probably engaged in mock duels for his own amusement, but when Ishop killed him, he had fought back no better than a half-asleep child.

Not much of a nobleman, certainly not of the caliber that Ishop intended to be once he reclaimed his own heritage. Soon.

But in the meantime, he still served the Diadem. Ishop would not be surprised if Michella instructed him to ensure that Carlson Goler had similar “suicidal thoughts,” but not yet. Ishop merely kept an eye on the prison, noting those who came and went. Michella imagined traitors and spies in every shadow, but Ishop knew she had real reasons for concern, because General Adolphus had sympathizers salted throughout the population.

That morning, Ishop paid attention when one of the regular servers called in sick. That was not in itself unusual, although any change in schedule regarding the territorial governor warranted careful scrutiny. When the replacement server arrived at the prison with proper identification papers, wearing the right uniform, he passed through security without incident. But Ishop directed the surveillance feed so that he could watch exactly what happened next. The replacement server spent some of the morning cleaning the halls, rearranging boxes in a storeroom. At lunchtime he delivered Goler’s tray of unremarkable food and arranged to pick it up after the meal.

But when Ishop tried to learn the server’s identity, he was surprised at how difficult that turned out to be.…

When the man left the prison at the end of his work shift, he eluded security, changed out of his gray uniform, and discarded the clothes, which were found later. That told Ishop he had stumbled upon something important.

Rather than reporting his suspicions to the Diadem’s guards, he asked Laderna to help him dig deeper, and she applied herself with great enthusiasm to the problem, displaying her utter devotion to him, as usual. He had no intention of replacing her.

The server’s real name was Burum Elakis, which did not match the name on his prison ID badge. Ishop learned that Elakis had served in the old military but registered as a conscientious objector during the General’s rebellion; he had refused to be deployed as part of Riomini’s Army of the Constellation, and was instead reassigned to a polar survey station.

Elakis originally came from Orsini, the Tazaar homeworld. He was also a collector of memorabilia from the General’s rebellion, before such hobbies had been proscribed. A few years earlier, Elakis had sold valuable military memorabilia to an off-world collector … someone from planet Hallholme, as far as Ishop could tell.

Very interesting. Ishop knew there was more here to be learned. Though they were alone in his private office, Laderna lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Are you going to expose him to the Diadem?”

Ishop shook his head, ran his fingertips along his smoothly shaved scalp. “No. I’ll just hold the information for now and keep watching … in case it proves useful.”

49

When Ian Walfor interrupted her meeting in the Saporo admin tower, Tanja knew it was something important, even dire. His face bore a dismal expression, didn’t even show a smile upon seeing her; he looked haggard.

Tanja had been sitting on one of her office terraces with a group of her military advisers, where they had a magnificent view of the harbor with its floating buildings and heavy boat traffic. Seated around an outdoor table, they were discussing planetary defenses, including the six new ships placed in orbit. She looked forward to returning to Theser soon, to have a dinner with Sia Frankov and thank her for helping to make the new hub secure. Tanja also had patrols in the air and defenses on the ground, not to mention the shadow-Xayans, who had promised to defend Candela with their telemancy. She felt much safer—but the expression on Walfor’s face changed all that.

With shaking hands, he poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher on the table. Though he had rushed here, he now seemed reluctant to say what was on his mind. Finally, he put down the glass. “Theser has been wiped out. Riomini did it—left one of his flags where the capital city used to be. All of Eron is only charred remains.”

Her advisers gasped, one of them lurched to his feet, while others sat in stunned silence. Tanja felt cold, then feverish, as emotions surged over her. “And Sia Frankov? Any word that they took prisoners?” She felt uprooted, reminded of how she and her friend had planned their joint commercial empire, trade routes, dreams. “Any survivors, witnesses?”

“There’s nothing recognizable anywhere.” Walfor slumped into a chair. “Not so much as a blade of grass.”

Tanja slammed a fist down on the table. “The Constellation is going to drown in all the blood they’ve spilled.”

*   *   *

In her noisome cell, Marla Undine was obviously convinced she would never get out of this place alive. She sat brooding on the edge of her cot; as far as Bebe Nax could tell, that was all she ever did.

The harsh conditions seemed medieval, but Tanja Hu insisted on the humiliation, for reasons of her own. After hearing Ian Walfor’s appalling news about Theser, which he had delivered yesterday, Bebe was inclined to agree that any representative of the Constellation should be treated like an animal.

Bebe doubted the captive territorial governor would show any remorse, nor would she be any more cooperative. Bebe stood outside the cell with Jacque at her side; she let out a heavy, impatient sigh. “I can improve your conditions here if you will just record the message for Sonjeera. It’s the best way to resolve the situation.”

Tanja had demanded that Governor Undine record a message to be sent to the Diadem, which Tanja would include along with her own condemnation of the Diadem’s actions on Theser. But Undine did not seem tempted at all.

“I refuse to be part of your propaganda.”

Jacque was visiting from his boarding school, and Bebe wanted him to see this. Although she had explained the Theser massacre to him, the boy didn’t understand the significance of the events now; nevertheless, he had a front-row seat for history, and she hoped he would remember.

The boy always seemed fascinated by Governor Undine, as if he viewed the captive as a specimen in the zoo. Back in Saporo, Tanja had told Jacque many horrific tales about the Constellation’s crimes, and he continued to regard Undine through the bars and gray mesh of her cell as if she were a monster.

“Why doesn’t she want the war to end, Mother?” the boy whispered, as if Undine couldn’t hear them clearly. The cowlick in his hair was more pronounced today than usual.

“Maybe she enjoys the killing.” Bebe had brought a copy of the images Walfor had transmitted, showing the utter devastation of the verdant crater city. Blood, fire, destruction … the deaths of hundreds of thousands of DZ settlers.

The guard unlocked the cell door and smiled at Jacque, dangling a leech he had peeled from the wall, amused. Bebe entered the cell, holding a small, flat projection screen that showed the devastated landscape of Theser. “Let me show you what you’re condoning, Governor. Is this truly a government you wish to support? Why do you owe them your loyalty?”

“I will not record a statement for you.” Undine’s eyes flashed, and she remained immobile on her bench. “The Constellation will come for me.”

Bebe snorted. “The Constellation believed you were still being held on Theser—and they obliterated everyone and everything. They do not intend to rescue you.” Sloshing across the pooled water on the floor, she pressed the horrific images closer, forcing the prisoner to look. “Don’t you have anything to say to Diadem Michella after she tried to murder you?”

She glanced over at Jacque to make sure the boy was watching.

Suddenly, the listless Undine exploded into enraged motion like a released spring. She lunged forward, lifting a metal support strut she had secretly disengaged from her cot. Bebe didn’t have time to cry out, could barely lift the projection screen as a meager defense.

Undine struck Bebe hard across the temple, crushing her skull. As she fell, a second blow broke open the back of her head; Bebe was dead before she dropped into the standing water on the floor.

Jacque saw it all, and he screamed.

Wild and suicidal, Undine charged out of the cell, swinging the metal club from side to side. Astonished, the guard protectively knocked the boy behind him. The governor managed to strike the man on the shoulder, but he was a fighter and slammed her into the wall with the full weight of his body. He broke Undine’s arm when he wrenched the metal club free; when it clattered to the floor, he punched her hard in the stomach. She crumpled, choking, sobbing … then laughing.

Jacque ran into the cell and dropped to his knees in the filthy water, propping his mother’s dripping, battered head on his lap. He wailed for her, but she didn’t answer.

50

Sophie Vence sat on the front passenger seat of a Trakmaster while her son drove the overland vehicle across the rough terrain. It was deceptively like old times, before Devon had joined himself with an alien personality. She, Devon, and Antonia headed out to the lush valley that had drawn the attention of the mysterious ships.

Sunlight filtered through the dirty, streaked windshield. Antonia sat in the front between them. Her alien companion Jhera sometimes shared a veiled telepathic dialogue with Birzh, and sometimes Antonia conversed with Devon in her own voice. Sophie cherished the moments whenever the two showed flashes of their original personalities.

All three were curious about what they would find in the isolated, awakened valley. From a purely commercial sense, Sophie looked forward to inspecting the new native forest, which might provide useful raw materials. More importantly, she hoped to learn more about the strange ships and what had drawn them to the outburst of plant life.

She held on to a side rail as the Trakmaster rolled over boulders. When Devon brought them to more level ground, he picked up speed, driving the way he used to. Even Antonia had a smile on her face.

For Sophie, life had been full of surprises, some bad and some good. She’d had more than her share of hardships, but everyone on Hellhole could make that claim. She had never been destined for a normal life anyway, and this place had made incredible things possible for her. She’d met General Adolphus, and Devon had found real love with Antonia, along with their Xayan counterparts. Sophie had to keep reminding herself of their newfound joys.

She glanced sidelong at her son. Such a handsome, compassionate young man. She could not be more proud of him or hopeful about his future, but she was also worried about him. Despite his reassurances, Sophie did not know what would happen to his human side when the Xayans ultimately achieved
ala’ru
and “ascended.”