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Authors: Kevin J Anderson

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Chapter 83—DOBRO DESIGNATE UDRU’H

In order to save his planet from destruction, the Dobro Designate had promised to deliver his answer to Hyrillka in person. Now, like sand slipping through his fingers, time had run out.

Udru’h had to face his rebellious brother alone and do his part; the Mage-Imperator could not assist him in this. Rusa’h had already murdered his legitimate Designate-in-waiting and apparently at least two of Pery’h’s brothers; he was not likely to respond well to defiance. Therefore, Udru’h had to formulate his response very carefully. He would lie, he would remain firm...and he would find a way to survive. He always did.

En route to the Horizon Cluster, he kept to himself, brooding about what he had agreed to do. Udru’h knew what the Mage-Imperator expected of him. As he approached Hyrillka, the Designate felt as if he were falling off a cliff. The decision was made: He could not rescind it.

As the transport craft approached Hyrillka, several warliners swept out of orbit and surrounded it like a pack of voracious predators hungry for fresh meat. Annoyed, Udru’h went to the pilot deck and sent the message himself. He didn’t want any of his twenty-one Ildiran companions to participate in this matter at all. “What is this unnecessary show of force? Allow my ship through. My brother is expecting me.”

A septar in the lead battleship answered. “My orders are to take you aboard this warliner to wait for the arrival of Imperator Rusa’h.”

“Am I not welcome in his court on Hyrillka?”

“You are welcome aboard this warliner. Those were my instructions.” Then he added chillingly, “This maniple has just reconvened from Alturas and Shonor, both of which have joined our holy cause. Our ships are prepared for immediate departure to Dobro—should we be needed there.”

Udru’h drew a deep breath, driving back his alarm. “Very well, then. I will be pleased to await my brother on your ship.”

 

Once aboard, Designate Udru’h was brought forward like a piece of property. The rebellious Solar Navy officers looked at him as if questioning his loyalty—a good question, actually. These soldiers were completely detached from any
thism
he could sense, making them oddly opaque in his mind.

The soldiers led him to a sealed room, opened the hatch, and ushered him into the chamber. “While you wait for the Imperator, discuss your situation with
him
. He can explain the consequences of failing to cooperate.”

Ignoring the brainwashed guards as they sealed the door, Udru’h saw a defiant but impotent Adar Zan’nh. The commander sat in his rumpled uniform, a prisoner, disheveled but not obviously mistreated. His reddened eyes had a wildness to them, and he seemed to be slowly losing his struggle against isolation. Udru’h could certainly understand the engulfing emptiness and silence; already it echoed around him here, but because of his solo trips to the captive green priest Nira on her isolated island, the Dobro Designate had a little more practice.

Seeing him, the Adar’s eyes narrowed with deep suspicion, as if he suspected a trick. Udru’h and his nephew locked gazes, each assessing the other, and finally the Dobro Designate said, “No, I have not agreed to join them yet—if that is your question.”

The Adar did not relax, taking fast and shallow breaths. “And I should believe this?”

“I am your uncle. Would you not know through the
thism
if I am lying?”

Zan’nh’s eyes flashed with caged anger; emotions seethed close to the surface, barely in control. “Never before did I suspect that a Designate could lie to me or deceive his Mage-Imperator—yet Rusa’h has done so. I do not know what to believe.”

Udru’h remained standing inside the cell, not certain how closely they were being watched. “In fact, I have given them no answer at all.”

“You would even consider betraying your Mage-Imperator?” Zan’nh looked indignant, a cornered animal ready to attack any convenient target. “By merely thinking that, you have already committed treason.”

Udru’h was unruffled. “Prime Designate Thor’h lectured me at great length when he threatened Dobro with one of the warliners that
you
surrendered to them, Adar.” He scowled. “Thor’h was very earnest, if not entirely convincing.”

Zan’nh looked away, clearly ashamed about what had befallen his maniple. “After briefly imprisoning me on the surface, they forced me aboard what was once my own flagship. I had to watch as the mad Designate attacked other Ildiran colonies and commanded the murder of his own brothers and nephews.”

“And what about your crew?”

Zan’nh’s gaze snapped back up. “They have all been manipulated through the use of shiing. They are no longer responsible for their own minds.”

“Apparently neither you nor I are susceptible to such straightforward persuasion. We must join Rusa’h willingly.”

“That will never happen—at least not on my part.” The Adar studied Udru’h’s eyes when he was slow to give a similar assurance of his own.

Finally the cell door opened, and Solar Navy guards came for the Dobro Designate. “Imperator Rusa’h requests your presence in the command nucleus,” said the lead guard.

Zan’nh looked with disappointment instead of obvious anger at these soldiers who had once been his loyal crew. Udru’h followed his escort without glancing back at the Adar as the cell door closed...

In the command nucleus, the Dobro Designate was amazed at the change in his rebellious brother. Formerly soft and hedonistic, Rusa’h was now hardened and wore the trappings of a Mage-Imperator. Lens kithmen and pleasure mates surrounded his ornate facsimile chrysalis chair.

When Rusa’h stared at him, the Dobro Designate used all the skill he had practiced to shield his thoughts, in case this oddly changed brother could detect anything. Did the broken
thism
blind both of them to each other? The mad Designate’s voice was calm and reasonable. “You have come here as you promised.”

“You had no reason to doubt me. I am true to my word.”

“But are you compliant as well? You have always been scornful of our weak brother. Have you decided to join my pure view of the Lightsource? Our cause will be much stronger with you as an ally, Udru’h.”

Unperturbed, the Dobro Designate studied his work-roughened hands. “And where is this purity of which you speak, brother? If your path is based on an accurate reading of the soul-threads, why must you kill so many innocent Ildirans?”

“I kill no one unless it is necessary.”

“Oh? Again, I ask—if you have absolute proof, why should anyone resist? If you mean to convince me, you must make a more compelling case than this.”

The brainwashed officers glowered at the Dobro Designate, but Rusa’h focused his complete attention on him. “Will I be required to kill you as well?”

Udru’h gave an impatient wave. “Why do you jump headlong to conclusions? If your revelations are not strong enough to stand up to a few simple questions, then I have no choice but to doubt you even further.” He walked casually around the facsimile chrysalis chair as if the two of them were discussing nothing more consequential than clothing styles. “You ask me to make a monumental choice—to betray the Mage-Imperator and help you shake apart the Ildiran Empire. Please indulge me while I wrestle with my doubts!”

The fierce pleasure mates and iron-faced lens kithmen huddled close to the rebellious Designate, looking coldly at Udru’h, who responded with an equally icy stare.

With supreme contentment, Rusa’h finally said, “I have complete proof, but you are incapable of seeing it until you become part of the new pure
thism
.”

Udru’h snorted. “That is a fool’s bargain, as you well know.”

Bridge personnel and guard kithmen came forward. Rusa’h held up a hand, struggling to control his anger. “Prepare the maniple for departure to Dobro, where we will impose our new enlightened rule upon the people. It is a pity you would not cooperate, Udru’h.”

The Dobro Designate gave a long-suffering sigh. “Again, you make a great many assumptions, Rusa’h. I never refused to cooperate with you. In fact, I gave you no clear answer at all—I simply raised a few logical questions.” Udru’h leaned against the edge of the chrysalis chair. “Go ahead, take me back to Dobro. It seems I have no choice but to join you. But you will not need to send the full maniple against my small colony. You must have other uses for so many ships?”

Still somewhat dubious, Rusa’h pursed his lips. “True, Thor’h needs the rest of these warliners against other intractable splinter colonies. We must move swiftly.” He pointed a finger, making sure his threat was clear. “You will have time en route to consider the extent of your cooperation. Upon reaching Dobro, if you waver in your resolve, then even one warliner is enough to destroy your colony.”

Udru’h smiled. “Oh, I would never waver in my resolve.”

 

Chapter 84—SULLIVAN GOLD

Of the cloud harvester’s fourteen escape modules, only one was lost as it struggled to get away. Unable to gain sufficient altitude and velocity when it ejected from the structure, the emergency vessel tumbled back into the zone where the hydrogues continued their onslaught. The hapless module scraped the side of a cracked ekti tank, causing further damage. While the skyminer evacuees called frantically for help, the ekti container erupted. Sullivan could do nothing to assist them...

Debris from the mangled cloud harvester fell like ashes in the wide-open sky. Moving away at best speed, Sullivan grimly tried to contact the Ildiran skyfactory. His crew was not enthusiastic about remaining near the hydrogues any longer than necessary.

Tabitha insisted, “Look, Sullivan, I know you’ve got a good heart, but we
can’t
go back there. We won’t survive.”

“I see no reason to provoke the drogues,” cried one of the shift supervisors.

“The hydrogues wrecked our cloud harvester,” Sullivan pointed out, “but they’ve left our evacuation modules alone.”


So far.
This isn’t really a ship...it’s just a box that moves.”

Another man said, “Let’s just get out of here! We can wait for the EDF to come pick us up. Kolker already sent the message, right?”

“They may not be here for days,” the forlorn green priest answered. “I don’t have a treeling to receive any updates. Nobody even knows we survived. We’re isolated. We’re on our own.”

“No we’re not—we have the Ildirans.” Sullivan sounded more like a boss than he ever had. “We’re morally bound to help them, even if they weren’t smart enough to plan ahead.” He glared at his crewmembers, unyielding. “You’d want them to do the same for us.”

“Yeah, but would they?” one of the ekti engineers argued.

“That’s not the point. We’ll show them a bit of
human
kindness.”

He directed the thirteen escape modules to fly across the cloudbanks toward the second battle zone, where the Ildiran skyfactory smoked and burned in the rarefied atmosphere. So far, the hydrogues had primarily concentrated their wrath upon the human cloud harvester. Far behind them, most of the warglobes continued to rip apart the framework like jackals on a carcass. But others had begun to turn their weapons on the Ildirans.

“Keep transmitting to Hroa’x, Tabitha. Tell him we’re on our way. Have him get his people ready to board our ships. Divide them into thirteen groups. Calculate how many we can hold. We’ll cram shoulder-to-shoulder.”

“We don’t have enough fuel or life support or food. These modules are just a temporary—”

Sullivan cut her off. “We’ll figure out something. Let’s survive for the next hour and then decide what to do.”

The cumbersome modules made their way to the Ildiran skyfactory city. Its towers and domes had been blackened. Atmosphere and chemical fumes boiled out. Fires were raging through the habitation complexes. As Sullivan watched in horror, Ildiran miner kithmen fell off the railings and plunged into the emptiness of infinite clouds. He couldn’t tell if the people had intentionally thrown themselves overboard.

A nearby warglobe launched two crackling blasts against the lower decks, ripping apart the bottom sections, then it cruised away through the topmost clouds like a shark knifing through the water.

“Here’s our chance. We’ve got to hurry.” Sullivan brought his escape module down onto the broad landing deck of Hroa’x’s skyfactory, scattering panicked miners who did not know where to go. Ildiran family leaders and primary engineers raced forward. Fires and explosions continued to shake the huge complex as if it were held in the fist of an angry giant.

Shoving the module’s hatch open, Sullivan leaned out and shouted, “We can fit twenty in here. Twenty! Count yourselves out and get aboard. Twelve other vessels are landing right behind me.” When he saw the aliens hesitate, Sullivan grew red-faced. “Move your asses! We don’t have time for this.”

Squat Hroa’x strode from the remains of a skeletal exhaust tower. The facility chief shouted to the miner kithmen, “Do as he says. We have no time to choose or prioritize. Twenty of you, climb aboard and let him take off.”

Sullivan gestured to him. “You, Hroa’x—come aboard with me.”

But the proud miner shook his head. “No, I will stay here.” He marched back into his facility, as if he were returning to a normal day of work.

Before Sullivan could yell again, twenty Ildirans clambered through the hatch. Within moments, his module was filled and the hatch sealed as more Ildiran miners crowded forward. “Lift off. Make room for another ship.”

A second module landed beside him with a loud clang and blast of exhaust jets. Reluctant to refuse Sullivan’s direct orders, the pilots of the other escape craft hovered over the doomed skyfactory, waiting to pick up loads of refugees.

Sullivan was cramped inside their escape vessel as it moved away. Pressed body to body, the Ildiran evacuees had no place to sit down. Winds buffeted the overloaded module, and the designated pilot fought for control. “We don’t have much lift, Sullivan, and not much fuel to go anywhere. These ships were never designed to carry so many people.”

“Just get us through this right now, and you can file a complaint as soon as we get back to Hansa HQ.”

One by one, the remaining evac modules touched down on the skyfactory deck and took on frightened refugees. Even with every craft vastly overloaded, nearly a third of the Ildiran population remained stranded aboard the complex.

Across the sky, the Hansa cloud harvester was by now completely obliterated. Only an expanding cloud of smoke and dark vapors marked its former position, like an old bloodstain. Sullivan saw the hydrogues regroup, then begin to move across the sky toward the Ildiran skyfactory.

Seven more warglobes rose from the nearby clouds. The damaged Ildiran structure was already tilted and wobbling. Explosions glowed from its engines and uncontrolled fires in the ekti reactors underneath. The dwelling complexes had already been devastated.

A lone miner kithman—Sullivan recognized Hroa’x himself—climbed the tall venting tower and stood like an angry admiral on a defeated warship. The chief miner had no weapons, no effective resistance, but still Hroa’x raised his arms to curse the deep-core aliens.

“Lift us higher,” Sullivan told his pilot in a leaden voice. “We have to get out of Qronha 3’s atmosphere before the drogues notice us.”

“Trying to, Sullivan, but we just don’t have the power,” the man grumbled. “Hey, maybe if some of these Ildirans get out and push?”

Sullivan watched as the warglobes circled back to the Ildiran skyfactory and let loose with a barrage of blue lightning. Hroa’x remained at the top of his tower, bold to the last moment when the giant city broke apart into flaming pieces. Aboard the escape modules, the rescued Ildirans moaned, raw with resonating pain from feeling the deaths of so many comrades.

The thirteen overloaded ships, like obese bumblebees, managed to heave themselves out of the gas giant’s atmosphere into the freedom of orbit. But from there they had no obvious place to go.

“Our life support won’t last a day, Sullivan,” Tabitha pointed out. “Food is the least of our worries. We don’t have enough air or power to keep us alive.”

Kolker clutched his green knees. “We’ll never survive.”

Sullivan pursed his lips and didn’t respond immediately. “Now would be a good time for a brilliant, innovative idea, if anybody has one.” When no one volunteered a suggestion, he came up with one himself. “Okay, we can’t wait for the EDF, and we don’t have fuel to take us very far. But there is one place we can go.” He looked at the crowded, frightened faces, both alien and human. “If we head on a straight-line course and use every last gasp of our fuel, maybe we can make it to Ildira.”

 

BOOK: Scattered Suns
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