Dancer (Wine of the Gods Book 15)

by Pam Uphoff

  "Hold your fire." One woman snapped. "Sorry sir." She saluted.

  "Lieutenant Sharp. I assume this Solti is dead too?" The captain returned her salute, grinning.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Is he in any state to be viewed?"

  "Only if you have a strong stomach, sir."

  "Show me." They took one look and retreated. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Hamza, you have just been promoted to Solti."

  "Oh, crap."

  They got all the troops out of the Garden and dressed to fit the various staff a Solti was expected to have.

  "There is another problem, sir. The women here say the Old Solti has their kids."

  "We'll have to split up then. Sears, that invisibility necklace . . . Trip and Rogers, I think?"

  "Thank you sir, a pleasure." The wiry redhead swept around the dead bodies picking up a number of knives.

  Kenton had also attended a few feast in the palace with his father. He gave a quick description of a Solti's proper entourage, and the entrance they ought to make.

  Then trailing an advanced guard of the two biggest men each, attended on by concubines – actual wives would never go out in public – servitors and trailed by a half dozen more guards, the two new Soltis headed for the main audience chamber and entered approximately simultaneously from either side.

  The old Solti frowned down on them. "Well, nephews how . . . wonderful to see you again after all these years."

  "Uncle." The captain made what might be imagined to be a polite nod.

  The Lieutenant raised a supercilious eyebrow under his exquisite crimson silk turban.

  "You will both acknowledge me as the new Amma." the older man frowned at them. "I hold your children."

  "Do you genuinely not mind killing children?" The captain asked.

  "Of course not. Why should I?"

  The captain drew his finger across his throat.

  The Old Solti leaped to his feet, his hand flying to his throat as a gash opened from ear to ear and he collapsed across the blood sprayed table.

  The watchers drew back with in drawn breath. "Magic," was whispered from multiple sources.

  The two "Soltis'" "servants" scampered to bring them food from the platters on the table, and poured wine. The other guests stirred, but made only a small show of eating before making their excuses and departing.

  "Well, looks like the party's over."

  Captain Orobona stood up and looked thoughtfully at the Guards along the wall and at all the doors.

  "Who do you serve?" he asked the nearest.

  "You, Amma."

  "Why?"

  The man hesitated, then shrugged. "We will all die in two months. Better to go with some semblance of civilization instead of as a pack of animals."

  "Well, I'm not ready to roll over and die. I think we need to start thinking about digging some underground shelters Because I'm planning on surviving, and I don't see why most of the region can't as well. All of you here are dismissed for the night. Tell your fellows that tomorrow we'll be starting plans to survive. All of us and all of them. Go." He waved a hand and they all filed out, several shooting him puzzled looks.

  "First stop, the Amma's quarters. Good job, Trip." The captain swept a look around. "Trip?"

  "She didn't know you'd already sent people about the kids, sir." Jamie frowned down at his bare chest and pantaloons. "Gonna have to do something about the slave boy's outfits around here." He lifted the wig and wiped sweat off his head.

  The Amma's quarters were decorated in blood and dead guards.

  Rogers was pale. "The kids are mostly alright, sir. Some of the old man's wives – they killed their own daughters so they wouldn't be violated by the man that killed their father."

  The last of the women they had suspected were here, were, and two extras.

  "Damn, Harriet, I thought you were going back?" The Ambassador walked around the bodies, looking green.

  She giggled, on the edge of hysteria. "Well, one battle zone or the other, what's the difference?"

  Danielle looked around at the mess. "Sir? Are we stuck here?"

  The captain sighed. "I expect our fellow troops to come back through the Gate any time now. Hopefully after we've got control of the guards down there. But if these maniacs managed to damage the Gate mechanism . . . well, I think we'd better get ready to ride out the comet strike. So. Lieutenant Lennox, I'm putting you in charge of Palace security. Get these bodies under ground, soonest."

  He looked around thoughtfully "Lieutenant Grabber? Find out the state of the State treasury. I want to give each of these women a pension, and a dowry or whatever for their kids and get them out from under foot. Pay the troops and the Palace Guards so they're happy."

  Jamie got swept up in the house clearing, digging a big hole for the bodies, amazingly few, and then he explored the palace, Kenton following him, breathless in disbelief.

  "So, kid, what happened to this father of yours?"

  The boy's lips thinned, and blinked to hide the tears in his eyes. "I have a twin brother who looks just like Dad. I don't. When he had a fight with mother . . . he sold me. He signed the papers . . . "

  "Crap. Well, hang around with us, kid, we'll give you a job." And a new family. It's not like I'm going to have kids of my own. Well, I'm probably only six or seven years older than he is. So, I always wanted a little brother.

  The palace was a nightmare maze, even the Amma's quarters with all the outside exits was impossible to defend. In the end the Earth troops all moved down to the lowest floor and shifted the women there up to the second floor to fight over accommodations with the widows already there. Jamie did a quick count and came up with fifty-eight widows and two hundred and nineteen children. Mostly the old man's, but the two grandson's had contributed to the total.

  There were a few bitter jokes about how there were plenty of women for them all – pity they weren't up to the challenge.

  There were nine female troops, and two of the Ambassador's staff. They took over the harem area.

  The sixty-three men split up into three shifts and started patrols, making bets about how many of them would find themselves working under which officer.

  Jamie figured they were all going to be digging holes, no matter what officer they were under.

  But that was after they took control of the Gate anchor and camp, got their communications powered up, talked with the thirteen grunts that had been abandoned on the far side of the World, released the Guests awaiting ransom and sent them on their way. Paid everyone.

  Killed the slavers that came to the palace to complain of an escape.

  Gave audiences to everyone who wanted to meet the new Amma. Kenton earned his pay as the Amma's mouth piece the first day and got a serious raise in pay. Jamie was able to understand most of what anyone said, and get the gist of it to the captain.

  Some positions were confirmed. Some were confirmed for a short term. Lots of gifts were accepted. Lots of stuff was hawked to get coin to keep the government running – the Amma having taken a good deal of gold with him.

  The Ambassador advised.

  A Palace school to keep the kids out from under foot was started. Three guards were hung for rape.

  And they dug lots and lots and lots of holes. Tornado cellar types, but with doors that opened in, on account of the inevitability of sand shifting and piling up on and against them.

  ***

  The north facing hill the palace sat upon was an advantage, and the troops dug in to the north of it for themselves and the rest of the palace staff and all those women and children.

  The weather was beautiful as they came into the last days of the year. And right down to the last second they kept thinking the Earth would come through.

  Some of the shelters closed up early, all the children being put to bed down underground by apprehensive parents.

  But Jamie opted to wait until after the last moment, with a fair number of his compatriots, watching from the roof of the north wing of the
palace. At sunset he saw the first streaks of meteors hitting the upper atmosphere, burning up completely.

  "C'mon. Break up. Break up completely." He prayed out loud.

  A fireball roared across the sky, west to east half way up from the southern horizon and descending below the horizon. A spike of pain shot through his head. He gritted his teeth against it and watched a flurry of fireballs racing, burning up mostly but a few stubborn ones persisted until out of sight.

  Pain like terrified and dying screams in his head. He strangled some red meteor light and thought about a shield blocking outside thoughts and the pain dropped, went away, bobbled about trying to make itself known. The ground shivered under foot.

  The compression wave of an impact would travel the fastest in the ground, slowest in the air. Would any hit the oceans? The ground quivered and he knew that with so many pieces coming down it was almost guaranteed that there would be oceanic strikes and tsunamis.

  He was keeping time in his head, and finally turned away, raising his voice. "We'll be getting the air blasts from those first strikes in a few minutes. This is a good time to take cover and see what happens." He strode down through the palace and out the lowest doors. Into the furthest of the last two shelters left open.

  Danielle followed him in, Ralph, big Andy and little Katie. Kenton. Half the late comers were the older children of the murdered Soltis. Fourteen and fifteen year olds, they'd labored to save themselves and their people, joining work crews without regard to their former high status.

  A deep boom rolled across the palace grounds, and wind whipped hard across the roof. Jamie looked up in concern, and a late rush stampeded out the doors to fill their shelter and spill over to the very last. He glanced at his watch, a loan from the Ambassador, and ran a quick calculation.

  He closed and barred the door, and settled down between Danielle and Andy.

  "It's weird to think I've known you guys less than a year."

  "Nah." Andy said. "You're still the greenest little private to ever survive boot camp."

  Danielle snickered. "I remember how you screamed going through the Gate."

  "I hate going through." Jamie admitted. "Never did get over it." The ground shivered again. "The comet must have broken up. That's four separate ground shocks. If the first ground shock belonged to that boom, then it hit roughly 2000 miles away"

  "We're going to survive, aren't we?"

  "Hey. Have a little faith in these shelters! I hand dug this one especially for you."

  "Ha!"

  "Okay. I did it for me. I have to survive long enough to get back to Earth and regen treatment. I refuse to die in this condition."

  She shook her head. "I never know whether or not to laugh at your jokes."

  "I laugh." Andy said from the other side. "Or maybe I'm just laughing at his incredible optimism."

  Jamie leaned his head back against the wall and felt another quiver. He knew that somewhere someone was writing it all down. A bunch of the techs were riding it out in their mod, so they could mind the seismographs. He'd thought seriously about joining them, but he wasn't a tech, just curious.

  A couple of the littler children got closer, snuggled down with them. Some of the children had been completely orphaned with the deaths of their fathers, and the troops were picking up the slack. It wasn't like they were going to have children of their own any time soon, after all. Jamie drifted off to sleep, and only woke when they opened the door three hours after the last ground shock.

  He yawned. "Well, so much for the End of the World."

  They were kept busy for days exploring collapsed buildings, and rescuing people, but the local casualties were very light, and even the structural damage not bad.

  The coastal dwellers reported a high tidal surge, but not dangerous this far up the Kara Sea from the open ocean.

  "Which begs the question." The captain brought up at the end of the week. "Am I going to be the Amma of the entire Auralian Empire? Quite apart from not being Auralian, having no idea of the extent of the empire, how it was built and how many pieces want independence, having no army to protect it or keep it . . . We need a long term plan, just in case we're really and truly stuck here."

  "I know where there's a map." Katie Foster was waved permission to fetch it.

  "There were, I think, about a dozen administrative areas." Oklahoma Johnson tapped his fingers. "I'd recommend you stabilize this area first, so you have a solid base to expand from, if you want to expand."

  "We need to train with these swords, everyone learn to ride a horse and fight from horse back. New tactics . . . " the LT started making a list.

  "Expand the Palace school."

  "Sewers, water treatment plants."

  "Better roads."

  "Build some reservoirs up in the mountains, so we can irrigate crops."

  "We need better banking laws, prime the economy."

  "Build some hospitals." Their sole doctor requested. "In fact a medical school would be nice, share our expertise."

  Ambassador Johnson rapped the table. "One important thing to decide on is whether we contact the people we know in the Kingdom of the West. Do we let them know a foreigner is controlling a sizable chunk of their worst enemy? Or do we continue this Amma Lyle Lilian impersonation. In theory, they could bring the thirteen lost boys and the Astronomers here, or all of us back there. Possibly with the Gate Anchor."

  But first Amma Lyle needed to consolidate his power. Which he mostly accomplished by improving his people's lives.

  The Amma's "special representatives, guards and staff" adapted, and adjusted. There were a few marriages . . . some, married or not, adopted orphans. Households of one sort or another formed up.

  The first small dams took six months, and the irrigation channels were ready for the second crop. With a good harvest, the Amma started on public works. Sewers and water mains were almost done before the Amma's first anniversary as the ruler of the immediate area. Schools . . . the city folk were a bit slow to take to the idea, especially for girl children. Until the working women realized they could get someone else to mind and feed the children while they labored. By the end of their second year the hospital was finished, and a medical school was being planned.

  ***

  "Whoa!"

  Jamie looked closer when the wagon that had been passing by the palace gates stopped abruptly. The driver stared past him . . . Corporal Harbin stepped around Jamie and frowned at the driver. "Sergeant Malder, what are you doing here?"

  "Trying to find out what happened in Asia and if our gate anchor actually got teleported down here, like the local intel types claim. Good to see you again George."

  "Hey. Teleportation? Beats the hell out of me. We all went to sleep and woke up in slave cages." He scowled. "This sick society . . . "

  "Ah. Yeah I've heard about what they do to slaves. Got some magic wine you'll just love." The driver's eyes crinkled a bit. "So, who is in charge?"

  "Captain Orobona." The Corporal climbed up into the wagon. "That'a way."

  It was a hell of a party.

  With painful aftermath, during which all new, if somewhat undersized, testicles dropped down out of wherever they'd been while growing.

  Lots of marriages. Nine months later, babies everywhere.

  They settled in for the long term.

  The soldiers and scientists stranded in Asia had a boat, and finally decided to join them, coming in small groups and slowly integrating into the odd hybrid culture that was springing up where the very odd Amma had control.

  They managed diplomacy with their neighboring small states, rather than warfare, mainly because they had no desire to control the whole of the old Auralian area. But all around the edges, areas started joining them and their new economy.

  They guarded the gate anchor. At first they kept it powered up constantly. After the third year they admitted it wasn't going to light up "any minute now," and started the standard marooning protocols. They fired it up every Solstice and every
Equinox. The four times every year the Gate Authority actively looked for lost explorers.

  They started diplomatic missions to Verona and the Kingdom of the West.

  Getting longer as they stopped fearing they might miss the gate. Finally established embassies.

  They guarded the gate anchor like a holy relic. And like so many holy sites that failed to produce miracles, the duty became more perfunctory as the years passed.

  Chapter Three

  21 December 3511 ce

  Winter Solstice 1395 px

  Fascia, Auralia, Comet Fall

  The First Platoon had been in charge of the gate anchor for twenty years. And for twenty years they'd fired up the generators, now running on the local white lightning, and run them for ten days straight. Then turned them off, cleaned them up and stored them for the next two and a half months.

  Captain (field promotion) Frank Comfrey always attended the startups. The four highpoints of his year, he thought. The whole platoon was in ranks for this. Half of them asleep on their feet. The generators fired. The lights on the anchor lit up. Frank walked down to the locator, feeling a bit like a pompous ass. His assistant walked behind him, a half-breed they'd recruited last year. So many of the marooned troops had married native women, and had children. He couldn’t stand the thought, himself, and kept mostly to the Army base and the Palace. But he was losing hope of ever returning home.

  Why not sleep in, instead of this pointless exercise?

  He blinked a bit at the fog that apparently hadn't burned off yet, filling the gate frame. Swirling. Something suddenly clicked in his brain, and he sidestepped as he reached back to grab the kid and haul him to the left.

  The armored gyp missed him by about three millimeters as it rushed through the gate.