Homeworld: Beacon 3

by Valerie Parv

  “You do?” Terre reached for her daughter’s hand. “Then you’ll drop these senseless charges and send me back to my people – our people?”

  Shana should have known Terre’s sudden concern for her was selfishly motivated. She was right, they weren’t going to change. She stood and began to pace, aware of how much more space she had here than in her office in the city. After a few steps she turned and faced her mother.

  “You’re not really under arrest. I had the police bring you here for your own safety.”

  Terre gave her an appalled look. “I can’t hide out with you while the rest of my group is in danger. I insist on going back.”

  “Insist all you like, you’re staying for the moment. I can make the charges stick if you force me to.” Shana folded her arms. “How am I supposed to do my job if I’m worried sick about you?”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “Please, Mother, for once do what I want instead of what suits you?”

  Some of the fight went out of Terre. “All right, provided you make sure everyone at the center is safe.”

  “I’ve already given the order. The building is sufficiently far up the mountain not to be in danger from a tsunami, but the police will make sure the rest of your group is out of harm’s way as far as that’s possible.”

  Terre frowned. “You really think this wave can do serious damage?”

  Shana returned to her desk and leaned against it, finding the heavy carved timber comforting. She needed the anchor, aware of how lonely she felt without Adam on call. He couldn’t share the burdens of office, but since they’d been together, she’d felt stronger for his presence in her life. Simply knowing he was there made a difference.

  Where are you? she thought with a sudden rush of despair. From Elaine, she’d learned the bare facts of what had happened to Garrett. If Adam was being similarly mistreated …

  She forced the fear away. Adam was clever and he was strong. She’d have to trust he could take care of himself while she took care of everybody else. The oath she’d taken as governor left her little choice.

  Tempted to tell her mother that she intended to become more involved in the Mayat cause herself, Shana was forestalled when the door flew open and June appeared, her usual calm demeanor disrupted by a concern that, for her, practically amounted to panic. “A tsunami’s been detected heading straight for Black Tree Beach.”

  Chapter 5

  The wave was going to be one of her best, Akia Zael thought as she worked in her lab. She’d aimed a moderately sized quake at the regions where the beacons were hiding with excellent results. Kam might disapprove, but she was the one playing the Earth’s weather as if it were her own personal orchestra. Once the humans had experienced what she could do, they would agree to anything she demanded.

  Kam would come around, he always did. More importantly, after the beacons surrendered to her, nothing would stand between her people and Prana. Revenge for her son’s death would be within her grasp. Because Kam was right, revenge did fuel her determination to bring the humans to their knees. But she wanted much more than she’d shared with him – nothing less than conquest of the homeworld itself. Only then would Ryn rest easily. Whatever key city existed on Prana, she would name for him after she conquered it.

  First came the task at hand.

  Most waves of tsunami strength were produced naturally, as a result of violent quakes or underwater landslides. Her triggers were the energy charges she detonated at a series of carefully calculated ocean depths. For explosive energy to be converted into wave energy, the charges had to conform with the geometrical patterns she’d surveyed. Beaches, reefs and water depth all affected the results.

  As she’d tried to explain to Kam, the explosions she triggered would result in a gas bubble forming and expanding. Then she needed to force the bubble to contract, repeating the cycle until the gas pushed a dome of water to the surface, the uplifted water forming a cavity that collapsed, starting the crucial second phase of the wave process. Her art was to match the size and critical depth of the explosions to the radius of the bubble she wanted to produce.

  If her calculations were correct, the result would be magnificent. What would begin as barely measurable crests would become an unstoppable wave train moving at hundreds of kilometers an hour toward her selected landfall. Those on shore would first see suddenly decreasing water levels, as a large volume of seawater drained off the land. The returning flow would savage coastlines and property as it swept over everything in its path. A black wall of water and debris would be created, smashing everything – and everyone.

  Akia checked her chronographic recorders, gratified to see the modulation process developing in the wave-group formation. She adjusted settings to control the height and velocity of the flow, aiming for a wave of around seven meters by the time it made landfall. Not enough to wash away cities, but she wanted to make a point, not wipe out the whole province.

  Offensive inundation, she called it. Weaponized weather. She was vain enough to wish Kam hadn’t gone off in a sulk before he’d had a chance to appreciate her handiwork.

  “Captain.” The voice on the com belonged to her senior engineer.

  “What is it?” she said, without taking her attention from her instruments.

  “We’re experiencing an enormous power drain from your activities.”

  Now was not the time to pull back. “Are we at critical yet?”

  “Getting close. The power drain would be more manageable if we could move into line of sight with your targets.”

  That would mean giving up the advantage of their hidden orbit. “Negative,” she snapped. “How much longer before systems become critical?”

  “At this rate of drain, nine minutes maximum.”

  “I’ll take them. Call me when we’re at one minute.”

  “But captain—”

  Cutting the connection, she returned to her task. Eight minutes was barely enough to build up the wave train she wanted and ensure it made landfall on target, but it would have to do.

  She knew that several explosions at shallow depths had many times the effect of a single deep-ocean explosion. She couldn’t afford to ease off on power usage at this vital stage, even at the cost of some of the ship’s systems.

  “Captain.”

  The urgency of the second interruption told her time was becoming of the essence. “One more minute,” she said down the com, her fingers busy on the controls.

  “We don’t have a minute.”

  Suddenly her screens went dark and she let loose a string of particularly vile curses gleaned from a dozen hostage worlds. With no way of knowing whether she’d achieved her goal, she could only sit back and wait as the dim emergency lighting kicked in.

  She barely heard the reports of damage streaming over her ship’s systems. In her head she counted seconds, guessing it would take no more than thirty before Kam burst into the lab.

  He was there in twenty-eight. “With respect, Akia—”

  “Careful, Kam,” she warned. Being her lover only gave him so much immunity.

  “I don’t have to tell you what you already know. Our power is down to twelve percent, and won’t be back up for hours.”

  “A risk I chose to take.” As the captain. If she’d chosen to blow up the ship, that would have been her decision to make as well.

  At times Kam reminded her of her late partner, Gathrin, Ryn’s father. Gath had wanted to control her, to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. Although less forceful about it, Kam also liked his own way. Was she attracted to him because he represented the familiar to her? Now was hardly the time to ask the question, but with ship’s power so low, she could do little else but think.

  “Isn’t this attack becoming too personal?” Kam asked.

  “Revenge generally is.”

  “You’re using the ship as your personal instrument.”

  She slammed her hands down on the console in fro
nt of her. “This ship is my personal instrument. I remind you, what I’m doing will help us get to Prana.”

  “Did the process work?” he asked, picking up on her warning tone and switching gears.

  “It was certainly close. Until we’re back up to full power, I can’t scan for outcomes.”

  “Knowing you, it’s a foregone conclusion,” he said, managing to sound admiring and troubled at the same time.

  “Can you detect anything of the beacons?” Perhaps that would tell her what she desperately wanted to know.

  “I sense no fear from the two I can read.”

  She chewed her lower lip. “That means the wave hasn’t reached its target yet.”

  “Beacons are not easily frightened.”

  “True, but these are second generation. I’m counting on their human halves to do their screaming for them.”

  An odd way to put it, she read in Kam’s expression. “Too much fear may paralyze them when we need their cooperation.”

  She swung her chair around. “I know. The wave’s trajectory is calculated to cause damage without being crippling.”

  “Forgiving of you.”

  “Why do you keep shipping out with me, Kam?”

  His look told her he’d asked himself the same thing. “It’s my duty.”

  “Only duty?”

  “And because you need me,” he said quietly.

  “I’m the captain. I have no needs beyond the mission.”

  He leveled another look at her. “Others may believe that.”

  “But you don’t.” Some of the fight went out of her. “I guess I do need one person aboard who can remind me of my place.”

  He shook his head. “You know well enough who you are. But you do need someone on your side.”

  She let her gaze rove over the dark screens. “At times like this, yes.”

  If he recognized the lie, he kept it to himself. She didn’t only need him in a tight spot. She needed him, period. A captain couldn’t afford to show weakness but that didn’t mean she didn’t have any. Losing Gath hadn’t affected her nearly as much as losing her son. Ryn’s death had left her feeling adrift until, for the first time, she’d looked at the stars and the oblivion they offered as a way out. She hadn’t really wanted to die. Only for the pain to end. Kam had come across her staring out a viewport and with his unique adept senses, had known what was in her mind. He’d simply stood at her shoulder until she pulled herself back mentally. They’d become lovers soon after.

  He had never spoken of the moment, or tried to counsel her against what he knew she’d been considering. His rock-like presence beside her had been sufficient.

  Kam was a gentle soul, sometimes too gentle for her hot blood to appreciate. That was where he differed from Gath. Sometimes she welcomed the difference and the contrast with her personal style. Opposites attracting?

  Right now, fueled by anger at what she perceived as her ship letting her down, she felt Kam’s attraction like a magnet. Tempted to drag him to her cabin, she found the urge surprisingly difficult to resist. With so much at stake, she couldn’t afford the indulgence. She pushed herself to her feet. While she couldn’t change their power status, she could stalk through the ship, venting her anger at the crew. That usually got repairs done faster.

  Leaving Kam to follow or not as he chose, she headed out of the lab, but felt the tug of his presence all the way to the engineering levels.

  *

  With her mother safely tucked away in an office down the hall – and cooperating for once – Shana was free to concentrate on the reports coming in from Atai’s coastal areas. The evacuations had gone smoothly, with only a few people resisting. The upper levels of selected high-rise buildings had been designated as safe areas, and she hoped the stayers would seek shelter in them. If they didn’t, there was no more she could do.

  The quake had struck seventy kilometers to the west, with the hypocenter thirty kilometers underwater. Racing across the ocean, the tsunami was estimated to arrive in Atai within fifteen minutes. Shana imagined the wave slowly growing in height as it powered toward the shore. Some of its energy would be dissipated by bottom friction and turbulence, but it would retain enough power to strip beaches of sand, wash away trees and cause floods well beyond the usual high-water mark.

  Black Tree Beach was her big worry. It was located on a low-lying archipelago and the main structures were built using technology perfected in Japan to protect them from quakes, with a sea wall to deflect tidal waves. Would it be enough?

  She reached for the phone and called Rosie Granger. “How’s it going?”

  “Everything’s locked down, but we can’t do much about the launch pad or the low areas surrounding the center.”

  “We have to hope the sea wall holds, or the tsunami makes landfall away from crucial areas,” Shana said.

  “Is there a chance?” The tone of Rosie’s voice reflected her doubt.

  “There’s always a chance. What about your people?”

  “We’ve evacuated nearly everyone. I’m about to head out with the last convoy.” Rosie took a breath. “We still can’t raise Adam.”

  She obviously didn’t know about Adam’s disappearance. Now wasn’t the time to add to her friend’s worries – one of them suffering was bad enough. “I’ll see what I can find out,” Shana said, feeling a fresh swell of anguish. Where was he? Somehow she kept her voice level. “You get to safety now.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You be careful, too, Shana.”

  “Sure.” As she ended the call, Shana tilted her chair back, her fingertips resting on the desk. She trusted Rosie to take care of her staff. They could worry about the center itself later. But what about the man Shana loved? If they never found him …

  She reached out mentally, seeking some sign that he was all right. But as when she’d tried earlier, she found nothing. Maybe her mind was in too much turmoil. The quake and the coming tsunami were enough to throw anyone into a tailspin. Yet when she’d been a serving police officer, she’d experienced worse crises without falling apart.

  But this was Adam, she thought with a fresh burst of torment. Over the years she’d had her share of relationships, yet none compared with what she felt for him. He wasn’t the type who normally attracted her: reserved, anti-social, opinionated and, frustratingly, usually right. They’d had their clashes over the years, but she’d never considered anyone else to head up the country’s space program.

  He’d saved their world. Her Mayat heritage had let her help him access his alien powers, but Adam himself had made the difference. Letting him into her life was another giant step, one she couldn’t regret taking.

  He’d warned her he didn’t do permanent. Understandable, given that he’d been found as a baby, adrift in the wreckage of a boat and his family never traced. With a blank where his past should be, dodging a lasting relationship made sense. And growing up in a family where duty trumped personal needs, Shana had learned to keep her expectations low rather than risk disappointment. You worked hard, you gave back. Other people always came first – a permanent relationship wasn’t on the agenda. Or so she’d told herself.

  Adam was the first man to accept whatever she could give. He understood her, and the arrangement worked. Whether it was forever hadn’t been an issue. They kept separate households; they spent time at each as suited them.

  Nowhere in her independent, service-focused life had she allowed herself to need another person – when had she started to rely on Adam? So gradual had been the process, she’d barely registered the change. Now the thought of anything happening to him terrified her. She had to find him. But where to start looking?

  Stop this, she ordered herself. She couldn’t afford the luxury of falling apart. Too many people depended on her for leadership. Her fears for Adam had to be put aside until the crisis was over.

  With the merest knock on Shana’s door, June came in and headed for the newly erected screens that linked this office with the weather satellite system. “Ok
ay if I turn the sound up?”

  Shana nodded. She’d hardly noticed the information flickering in the background. Terre had followed the security chief into the office. The usually unshakable Mayat leader seemed drained of color. Keeping her own anxiety under tight control, Shana got up and approached the screens.

  *

  Maui was one of those islands where the sun seemed to shine nearly all the time, Elaine Lovell had noticed, especially at Hele Ranch, a unique and beautiful property sprawling on the flanks of Haleakala. Over the years, the historic ranch house had been greatly expanded with extensive pastures and horse-riding areas. Although not much given to riding, Elaine appreciated the glorious ocean and mountain views from the land. Unusual for her, she’d risked her hands and nails to help replant the native forest, taking an interest in the twelve hundred koa, sandalwood and ohia trees that thrived here. There was more to do, but she looked forward to the challenge.

  She loved the ranch in all its moods, but mostly because it belonged to Timotea Rooke, her current lover. Heck, their relationship couldn’t be any more current, she accepted. For some time now he’d been her one and only, a first for a woman who found men as fascinating as they did her. Monogamy made as much sense to Elaine as limiting yourself to one dish at a buffet.

  Not that monogamy was proving much of a challenge lately. Not only was Timo descended from Hawai’ian royalty, he looked the part, a prince in stature as well as title, with a powerful athletic build and sheer human beauty. He treated Elaine like royalty, too. She would marry him one day, but there was no hurry. Prominent though his political role was, he wasn’t big on ceremony. He was as happy as Elaine to share their lives in whatever way worked for them, including their keenly anticipated parenthood.

  Elaine had decided their daughter would be born on the ranch. Timo knew her well enough not to argue, although she’d caught plenty of flak from his personal physician, Bill Astor, who was also their neighbor and partner in the regeneration project. Bill hadn’t given up trying to convince her to give birth in the best hospital facilities on the island.