Hidden Empire (19 page)
“Can’t get up past floor seventeen.” One of the men spoke through a suit-transmitter so that his voice came out loud but filtered.
“Walls are collapsed, and the doors are fused shut.”
“What do you mean fused?” asked the rescue commander.
“Welded closed, barricaded from inside, I don’t know. There wasn’t time to stand around and make a full analysis. Are the
suppressant ships coming in?”
The rescue commander directed the team to a staging area. Up in the sky five cargo copters closed in on the swirling blaze.
They flew like bumblebees, heavily laden with chemicals. Through amplified loudspeakers, the rescue commander bellowed to
the crowd. “Everyone stand back. Stay clear of the fire suppressant activities.”
Before the lumbering mass of curiosity seekers could shift position, the cargo copters opened their belly-hatches and spewed
copious amounts of greenish-white foam onto the inferno. Thermal updrafts and furious breezes trapped among the tall buildings
flurried the descending foam, splattering globules in a broad radius. Splashed spectators backed up to get away from the mess,
but the watchers were too crowded, and little more than a shock wave of disturbance rippled through the mob.
In spite of the suppressant foam, the apartment building continued to blaze white-hot, engulfed in flames so intense that
fire-fighting crews couldn’t begin to battle the disaster from ground level. Another three fire-fighting copters bombarded
the building with extinguishing foam, and Raymond realized their main goal was simply to stop the fire from spreading to other
buildings, not to save any of the people inside.
Frantic to do something, he pushed against the barricades once more. “I have to get in there. My brothers, my mother.” Greenish
white foam made him slip as he smeared his way forward.
But again, crowd-control officers blocked him. “Won’t do any good, kid. There’s nothing left inside but ashes and dental work.”
Before Raymond could cause more of a scene, the crowd jostled him again. One of the suppressant choppers overshot its target
and dumped half a load of foam over the officers and the front ranks of people. The crowd backed away, cursing. Raymond found
himself swept up in the amoebalike motion.
From behind, a man grabbed his arms and pulled him away. Raymond tried to struggle, then felt an iron grip on his other arm,
though it was slick with spilled extinguishant. His voice was lost in the hubbub of the crowd.
Three large, nondescript men unobtrusively steered him through the masses toward a side street where the crowd had thinned.
Raymond did not recognize these men, saw no expressions on their faces beyond a grim set to their jaws and a complete focus
on what they were doing.
“Let me go!” He lashed out with his feet, trying to kick. His toe connected with one man’s shin, but the man didn’t even flinch,
as if he had armor hidden beneath his gray slacks.
Raymond saw a sealed vehicle waiting, parked against the side of a building, its engine running. Dread closed around his heart.
This was too much to bear after seeing the fire at his home, knowing that his entire family had been lost in the intense explosion
beneath his apartment complex.
He struggled more wildly and managed to get his foam-slick arm free. He swung a fist, connecting with one man’s ribs, but
it hurt his own knuckles more than it hurt his would-be kidnapper. The door of the vehicle opened like a giant black mouth
waiting to gobble him up.
“Who are you? Leave me alone!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Help!” He knew it would do no good. The holocaust and
emergency operations were far too noisy.
A blond-haired man with ice-pale blue eyes stepped out of the vehicle, a broad-muzzled energy pulser in one hand. He said
in a calm, almost conversational tone, “This stunner won’t leave any marks, young man. I have permission to use it if I have
to.”
Raymond thrashed more vigorously. In the end, the blond kidnapper had to be true to his threat.
Stunned unconscious, Raymond Aguerra was shouldered into the vehicle. The door slid shut, and the men whisked him away.
N
o matter how much outside people and events pummeled them, Roamers always fought back and remained strong. Inspired by rigorous
circumstances, Roamer culture blossomed with ideas, some of which were impractical or eccentric in the extreme; other schemes
were innovative enough to let the fiercely independent clans thrive in places where most humans would find existence impossible.
Within the rubble belt around a dwarf star, the Roamers had expanded from the first tiny foothold left behind by the
Kanaka
. Rendezvous was a wonderful medley of space habitats and hollow asteroid living quarters, a scattered rocky archipelago around
a bloodred sun.
The asteroids were detritus from the collapsing protostar, insufficient material to coalesce into a planet. Rendezvous was
designed with numerous places to dock spacecraft, ships both large and small, as well as camouflaged depots for storing ekti.
Roamers were comfortable with low-gravity environments, suiting up and bounding from one rock to another using jetpacks. Some
of the cluster’s inner asteroids were strung together with cables that flexed and extended and retracted, like cablecar strands.
Dim sunlight shone upon reactive films and solar-wind collectors that provided enough power for the settlement.
Cesca Peroni had lived here much of her life. She considered Rendezvous not at all strange.
She and Jhy Okiah sat inside the Speaker’s office chamber hollowed out from the largest rock of Rendezvous. While much of
the Speaker’s business involved mitigating clan squabbles, accounting for profits, and studying resource distribution among
the widespread settlements, she also heard proposals and assessed the merits of ambitious new ventures.
These meetings with engineers and clan speculators were the most enjoyable of Cesca’s duties. All Roamers were encouraged
to develop new concepts and consider different techniques for exploiting resources, however unlikely they might seem. Inventors
modified standard equipment and vessels already in use, improving them to incredible efficiency, far beyond anything the Hansa
had achieved. Nor would the Big Goose ever know.
The curly-haired engineer Eldon Clarin sat in a low-gravity seat, controlling his enthusiasm as Jhy Okiah and Cesca stared
at his beautifully drawn plans for two new spacecraft designs. Clarin and his team of specialists had done their work admirably
well, and he waited for the old Speaker to either make suggestions or grant him approval to pursue his new concepts.
Jhy Okiah looked over at Cesca, waiting to see her protégée’s assessment. The young woman bit her lower lip, putting her mind
into sharp focus. “As clearly as I can understand it, your modification increases thrust efficiency, minimizes ekti consumption—”
Eldon Clarin interrupted. “Yes, yes, and still we retain navigational accuracy. That has been a problem in the past.” He sat
back and looked at the two women, hoping for their acceptance. He scratched his curly hair, which hovered like a corona around
his head.
Because Roamer society had been built on interconnected families, strong women often dominated their politics. Throughout
human history, politics had usually been based on warfare, strength, and blustering testosterone. Roamers, however, found
that female politicians were much better in the peaceful resolution of disputes. Women could talk through problems, get to
the root of a conflict and ferret out the real cause for disagreement, which was often an illogical emotionally based slight.
Maternal leaders were better at exchanging subtle favors that kept the society running smoothly.
Long ago, Jhy Okiah had been chosen as an acceptable mixture of bloodlines, a compromise from dozens of different clans who
would thus be able to make decisions without playing favorites. Cesca, on the other hand, had been selected as the Speaker’s
successor because she came from a particularly strong family. She was the only daughter of a merchant and distributor, Denn
Peroni, who had accomplished great things for the Roamers.
Seeing the faintest curve of a smile on Jhy Okiah’s lips, Cesca realized that the old woman had already made up her mind about
Clarin’s proposal and was merely drawing out the suspense. The Speaker always advised against making snap judgments, because
the parties in question might not believe due consideration had been given to a matter, even when the answer was obvious.
So Cesca waited as Jhy Okiah pretended to ponder the plans again. Finally, she asked for Cesca’s assessment. Cesca covered
her own smile, knowing the answer she was expected to give. “I believe Engineer Clarin’s proposal would make a good addition
to our capabilities. In fact, I would advocate that his modifications be implemented in all new vessels constructed at our
Osquivel shipyards.”
“Agreed. Once we know a more efficient way to do things, there’s no point in continuing to use the old method.” Then Jhy Okiah
cautioned the elated Clarin, along with the grinning and excited team of engineers who waited behind him. “Remember that no
Hansa representative should ever suspect the existence of such modifications. We must maintain our edge.”
The engineer nodded so deeply Cesca thought his chin would leave a dent in his chest. Before he could pack up his plans and
rush off, the Speaker held up one bony finger. “Wait a moment. Would it be possible to adapt your intake modifications and
power-conversion manifolds to skymines?”
“Skymines?” The engineer scratched his curly head, as if he had never considered the possibility.
She pointed to the plans. “A skymine does not travel far or fast like our space vessels. However, the concepts should be similar
and transferable.”
Eldon Clarin glanced at his team members, all of whom nodded quickly, though Cesca believed they would have agreed to anything
in their thrill at receiving the Speaker’s approval.
“Good, then I want these modifications to be included in the new skymine that will soon be put into service at Erphano. The
facility is undergoing its final construction stages right now, so you’d better hurry.” Clarin’s engineers looked alarmed,
then drew deep breaths, accepting the challenge.
The Speaker looked at Cesca. “My grandson Berndt will be managing that skymine. Why not have him start with an efficient facility?”
“No point in wasting time.” Cesca smiled, seeing the old woman’s plan all along. “To make certain that the modifications run
smoothly, perhaps Engineer Clarin should serve aboard the Erphano skymine for a month or two, as a shakedown?”
“Cesca, you never fail to demonstrate my wisdom in choosing you as my successor.”
“We will do as you ask, Speaker Okiah. Thank you for your approval!” Clarin bustled out of the office chamber, his motions
exaggerated in the low gravity.
Next to enter was Kotto Okiah, the Speaker’s youngest son by her fourth and last husband. She raised herself off her sling
chair and kissed him on each unshaven cheek. She looked without surprise at the scattered plans and notes he had brought with
him.
Some Roamers chose to use computer design systems and thin display screens to show their work, but Kotto Okiah preferred to
work manually, calculating with his own brain power and scribbling on valuable pieces of paper, which he always recycled if
his ideas proved fruitless. Many of his concepts fizzled into dead-ends, but the young man’s sheer imagination had also led
to numerous breakthroughs.
Kotto bowed to Cesca, but his full attention, as always, was on his ancient mother. Jhy Okiah insisted that she never gave
her family special treatment, but all Roamers had clan ties and obligations.
Kotto was diligent enough to have other engineers check and double-check his work to ensure appropriate safety levels. Still,
even when accidents happened, the optimistic Kotto never appeared shamed, only contemplative. “Innovative developments are
not always perfect,” he said. “We must expect some to fail.”
“Please make it as few as possible,” his old mother had said.
Now the young man spread out his display, including star-charts, surveillance photographs, and rapidly sketched plans for
a strange settlement on a bleak, hot world. “I don’t know if you’ll like this idea, Mother. It is very dangerous, but could
be highly profitable.”
“I’m listening. You’ll have to convince me, as always.”
Cesca leaned forward to participate in the discussion as Kotto began to talk with exuberance. “I’ve been studying the hot
world of Isperos, very much like the planet Mercury in the Earth system. The challenge is large, but the resources are remarkable.
Look at all these metals, and the rare isotopes readily available on surface scrapings! I think it would be worth the effort.”
With deft fingers he pointed to several different designs he had sketched. He explained how Jess Tamblyn had flown him on
a reconnaissance mission to the planet, mapping out the details.
“That sounds like Jess,” Cesca said with a smile. “Is… is he still here?”
