Drowned by Fire (Tales of a Dying Star Book 4)

by David Kristoph

  Pavani pulled herself out of the vent, landing on the metal walkway with a clang. She looked back in the air vent. It appeared only a few feet deep now, with doors separating it from the car beyond. She shuddered, thinking of what would have happened if she'd not made it through in time.

  Lorne stood on the far end of the round space, turning on a computer terminal mounted in the wall. The rectangle turned green, with text too small to see. "The Chain's maintenance shaft," he announced happily. "Doors are mounted on the outside every few hundred feet, so we were lucky our car was so near one. I only needed to back up for a few seconds to line-up, allowing us to pass inside. The cars are fragile, but the Chain itself is made of sturdier carbon."

  "So now what do we do now?" Julian asked, unimpressed.

  "The base was destroyed," Lorne continued, squinting at the screen. "Or at least I'm assuming so, as there's no contact with the systems there. Also, we're running completely on planetary power now." He tapped at the screen. "Our car suffered the same fate, I'm afraid. Completely destroyed. Good thing I thought of this, huh?" He turned and smiled at them.

  "What do we do now?" Julian repeated.

  The Primeshield's tone wiped the smile from Lorne's face. "Well. I can make a distress call from here. They'll receive it planetside, and with luck--"

  "No," Pavani interrupted. "No distress calls."

  "What are you thinking?" Julian asked.

  "They've planned this from the beginning," Pavani explained. "Attacks aboard the Olitau, shepherding us across to the Chain, using the Ancillary transfer laser as a weapon. They had the flagship under their control. They could have used it to destroy us whenever they wanted. But they didn't.

  "This isn't a desperate attack. It's a well thought-out plan. They didn't just want to kill His Luminance. They wanted it to be symbolic, something visible even from the planet's surface. The destruction of the Chain and His Luminance, all in a flash of Saria's energy."

  "So what?" Julian asked.

  "They think it worked," she hissed, leaning forward. "They probably think we're dead. If we make a distress call, and somehow the Children find out..."

  "...then they'll have the Olitau finish the job," Julian said. "Right, then. No distress signal." He turned back to Lorne, who still squinted at the computer screen. "So what do we do now? Sit here for a week until it's safe to exit, like rats?"

  "I'm working on it," Lorne mumbled. His face stood out in the green glow of the computer, scrunched in concentration.

  Pavani followed the walkway to where the Primeshield stood with the Emperor. Her balance seemed off, as if they were somehow moving. Vertigo from the gap, she thought, glancing over the edge. "How do you feel, Your Luminance?" she asked.

  The Emperor waved a hand as if he was fine, but said nothing.

  Julian gave her a look. He needs his medicine. Nobody quite knew what ailed the Emperor--a genetic issue responsible for his frailty, that gave him occasional fits. Some of their geneticists claimed he had months left. Others said only weeks. The medicine he took regularly would not aid him in the long-term, but it did keep him energetic and lucid.

  Pavani shook her head. They'd left the small pouch of supplies back in the car. He would be fine for a little while, but then the fits would begin again.

  Julian pulled his lips into a tight line, then returned to looking at the Emperor.

  "Well?" asked Pavani, glancing at a ladder mounted on the wall that extended far above and below, disappearing into darkness. "What do we do?" We will never get His Luminance up that.

  "I'm working on it," Lorne said again, not looking up.

  "You need to work faster."

  Suddenly a loud banging noise drifted from far above, like distant thunder. It grew louder, everyone suddenly staring up into the black void of the Chain's interior. Boom. Boom. BOOM. The sound grew close, until finally it was just above, with another, fainter humming noise.

  A black shape crashed down on them.

  With no time to activate her shield, Pavani darted over to His Luminance to help Julian shield the tiny body. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting.

  The sound abruptly stopped, and Lorne laughed.

  Pavani opened her eyes. Filling the gap in the center of the open space was a flat, circular platform. It shuddered slightly, having just come to a complete stop. Bright lights rimmed the platform, giving new light to their section of the Chain. It connected to two rails on opposite walls of the space.

  "I told you I was working on it," Lorne said, looking smug. "The maintenance platform. For traveling along the inside of the Chain to make repairs." He saw the look on everyone's faces and his smiled faded. "It didn't scare you, did it?"

  "Let's go," Julian said, gently ushering the Emperor onto the platform. Lorne stood there staring, surprised they weren't more impressed.

  The platform only possessed four small seats, but a railing ran around the outside where they could hold on. "Strap yourselves in," Lorne said, voice echoing as he tapped at a computer screen on the railing. "The higher we go the less gravity there will be. You see, the relationship between gravity and distance is exponential, so as we climb away from Latea the gravity will quickly--"

  "How far will this take us?" Julian asked, wrapping the straps around his waist. "Can we use this to travel all the way to the surface of Melis?"

  Lorne nodded. "Yes. No. Well, not exactly this platform. This only goes as far as the first observation station. We would have to change platforms there, and again at the next one." The typical journey from the surface of the moon to the planet lasted two full days. Eight rails were mounted on the outside of the Chain, but thirty-two cars were in motion along its full length at any given time. Five observation stations had been built at intervals along the Chain to allow cars to switch rails, to keep cars from blocking one-another. The stations also allowed passengers to leave the confines of their cars for a short time before continuing the journey.

  However, something seemed to bother Lorne--he began fidgeting with the computer, and would not look directly at them. Julian noticed. "What's the matter?"

  "Uh, my lord Primeshield. There's..."

  "Out with it, engineer."

  Lorne glanced at the others, then rushed over to the Primeshield to speak softly. Not so soft that Pavani couldn't hear, though. "The Chain base wasn't just destroyed," he began. "There must have been a significant explosion. The Chain is anchored hundreds of feet into the surface, deep into the bedrock of Latea. It would take a force of--"

  "Out with it," Julian snapped.

  The man spoke in a rush. "The Chain is no longer anchored to Latea. Normally the moon's gravity would keep it roughly in place even without a physical connection, but the explosion at the base has launched the Chain away. We are drifting, now."

  "Drifting," Pavani said levelly. "What does that mean?"

  "Well. There is little to stop the Chain's momentum. Just the moon's gravity, and it's not enough. Soon we'll drift far enough that the planet's gravity will be stronger, and we will accelerate." He swallowed. "Accelerate into the planet."

  "We're going to crash into the planet?"

  Lorne nodded slowly.

  Stars no, Pavani thought. It didn't seem possible. The Chain had been one of the Empire's constants, a tree of life rising above the planet, vigilant. The thought of it crashing... then Pavani realized the worst part: they were on the Chain, doomed to crash with it.

  "How will it happen?" one of the Flameguards asked. "The Chain will collapse downward?"

  "No," Lorne said slowly, "the planet's spin keeps it reasonably taught. Instead it will drift sideways like a felled tree. Then it will hit the atmosphere."

  "Fascinating." Julian kept his face blank, years of practice taking over. "How long do we have?"

  "I don't know," Lorne said, looking back at the computer. "It's been a long time since I studied physics." He took on a lecturing tone, as if reciting from a schoolbook. "The purpose of anchoring the Chain to a counterweigh
t in orbit--in this case, our moon Latea--is to maintain a centrifugal force larger than the combined force of Melis's gravity and the inward force exerted by the Chain's tension. Without the moon's outward force to cancel that out, along with the force of the explosion..."

  "I just need an estimate," Julian interrupted. "Minutes? Hours?"

  "A day, at least," Lorne said, scratching at the white hair near his ears. "I'll need to run some calculations."

  "Please do," Julian said. "In the meantime, let's get moving."

  Lorne scurried back to the computer terminal. After a moment he said, "Okay, everyone hold on."

  The railing was awkward to hold onto because of Pavani's height, but she managed by crouching slightly. There was a bang, her stomach lurched, and the platform launched with urgency. The platform lights illuminated the interior walls of the Chain all around as they zoomed toward the planet.

  Chapter 9

  The interior of the Chain was divided into segments; doors opened before their platform and closed behind them as they moved. Lorne announced that it would take ten hours to reach the first observation station. The group decided to take shifts, though it was unlikely any enemies would suddenly appear on their fast-moving platform. Pavani and Julian took first watch, sitting in two of the small seats attached to the outer railing. The others loosened their safety straps until they had enough slack to sit on the floor of the platform. Lorne waved his arms and spoke about safety and gravity and momentum but the Flameguards were too tired to care, already sleeping.

  The Emperor too had fallen asleep in his chair soon after the platform began to move. Julian stood over him quietly for a time. When he spoke it was soft, barely audible over the hum of the platform. "They're probably regrouping, figuring out their losses. How much strength they have remaining."

  "Strength for what?"

  "The Children of Saria have captured the Olitau, destroyed most of our orbital defenses. Latea is essentially theirs, and without the Chain we'll have a difficult time moving forces to retake it. But the moon is the least of my worries. We have a garrison down in Luccar, but not much that can stand up to a ship as grand as the Olitau." He grimaced. "If I were one of those sun-worshiping fanatics I'd be regrouping for an attack on Melis itself."

  Pavani frowned. "I assumed they would take the ship and flee, like the Leviathan." The Leviathan was the last great Melisao Frigate, built a decade ago. It disappeared from the shipyard with hardly a trace. Most citizens of the Empire believed it to just be a fairytale story.

  "The Leviathan was taken by pirates," Julian corrected her, "not fanatics. The Children of Saria want far more than just a ship. They want to destroy the Empire, return us to the ancient days when men were forced to worship Saria morning, noon, and night." He shook his head. "No, if I were them I would be preparing to attack Luccar itself. Destroy the palace and the rest of the royal family."

  Pavani glanced over at Lorne, still bent over the computer terminal. She lowered her voice to a whisper anyways. "There is no royal family."

  Melisao Emperors were more than men: they were each a God, the same God, whose immortal soul passed from one flesh vessel to the next, father to son, over and over. That continuous male line had continued unimpeded for a thousand generations.

  Until now. A problem with the Emperor's genetics, the scientists claimed. Private scientists, hidden away in the palace where their secrecy could be assured. The Emperor could not reproduce, no matter their efforts. Whatever caused the inability was the same ailment that caused the Emperor's frailty, and would eventually be his death.

  Pavani stared down at His Luminance. The God whose safety she'd been bred to assure, whose importance had taken precedence over her family. She thought of her father, the Admiral aboard the Olitau, likely dead or captured. You left him to protect this man, she thought, feeling a twinge of bitterness and regret. She shook her head. No, not a man. A God. It was difficult to consider him as such, slumped over in a chair and barely strong enough to stand, but a God he was. She clung to the thought, the familiar stability that he had always been. Eyes forward, not backwards.

  "The Children don't know that," Julian said. "They believe the Emperor's son is sitting in the palace right now. And if they think the Emperor is dead, they'll want to pull out the roots as well, to show the Empire that He is not truly immortal."

  Even explaining the Children's logic made Pavani uncomfortable, as if someone might overhear them and think they were blasphemers. How would the Flameguards react if they knew? But she saw the truth to the Primeshield's words. "If they plan to attack the capital, then where do we go? If we take His Luminance there, as he requests, then we'll be putting him right where the Children are going anyways."

  "I don't know," Julian admitted. "I don't know."

  He unbuckled his safety strap. Pavani followed him to Lorne, who still squinted at the computer terminal.

  "How long do we have?" Julian asked.

  "Twenty-seven hours," Lorne announced.

  "That's it?" Pavani asked. "Just over a day?"

  "Correct, although that is when the Chain will strike the planet's surface. It will be traveling quite fast in the final hours. We will want to be far away from the Chain before then."

  "I would like to be far away from the Chain presently," Julian said, "but we don't seem to have many options. We may need to risk sending out distress broadcasts after all."

  "You didn't let me finish," Lorne said. "In ten hours we will reach the first of the observation stations scattered along the Chain."

  "Which will give us a wonderful view as we crash through the atmosphere," Julian said.

  "Which is also garrisoned with four escape pods that can launch toward the planet, deploy their parachutes in the upper atmosphere, and drift safely to the ground."

  Lorne smiled at them, a mixture of pride and smugness spread across his wrinkled face. There was nobody so happy as an engineer who'd solved a puzzle.

  Julian didn't seem to care; the gears of his mind were already grinding, thinking. "And when we're low enough we can contact the Luccar garrison to pick us up wherever we land. It will be worth the risk of revealing our location, then."

  "Precisely. The pods even have some manner of propulsion, so we might be able to steer ourselves very near to the capital itself."

  Julian nodded, which was grand praise from him. Lorne's smile widened. Julian walked over to the Flameguards, kneeling and whispering softly. The two red-haired guards nodded and laid back down, curling into one another like puppies for warmth. The tattoos covering their limbs shone red and orange in the alternate Chain light--the female's tattoos were of lions, and what looked like dragons on the man. The bulge of their flame devices, implanted underneath their wrists and connected to a fuel organ in their chest, cast a strange shadow.

  Julian moved on to the other Shieldwarden.

  Pavani watched the small guards. The Flameguards had a special... relationship with one-another. They were sensual beings, but it had been many years since the Emperor called upon them for that, years before he became sick. The Flameguards took to each other instead. Pavani sniffed. They should be mourning their lost comrades, Lucius and the other Flameguards killed in the flight from shipyard to Chain.

  That's not fair, Pavani thought, slumping into her seat and leaning her back against the railing. After all, she had lost fellow Shieldwardens that day, and yet she had no tears for them. I'm focused on my duty, she thought, stubborn. Their duty, their life, was to protect His Luminance. She had no time for any other distractions, neither grief for her fellow guards or guilt for abandoning her father.

  But the Emperor rested in a chair, at peace. They were contained within the Chain's interior tunnel, and nobody knew they lived. Pavani could relax. She didn't need to focus on her duty.

  Still, she reached into a pouch within her armor and pulled out a small, round pill. Shieldwardens were bred especially for duty: taller and muscular, with quick reflexes and a body that did not deh
ydrate as easily as a normal human. But her specialized genetics did nothing for exhaustion--she grew tired as quickly as anyone else. She tossed the stimulant in her mouth and swallowed.

  Julian finished speaking with the others and returned to the Emperor's side. Tenderly, he shook the frail man awake and spoke, leaning close so the God could speak directly in the Primeshield's ear. Then Julian took the chair next to Pavani and strapped himself in.

  "His joints?" she asked.

  "Aching, but manageable, thank the stars. He says there's no pain, which surprises me. Probably all of the adrenaline of the day. After so much running, when he wakes I'm sure his pain will be great indeed."

  Pavani nodded. The Shieldwardens protected His Luminance, defending him from his enemies, destroying them. She was trained in every manner of combat: rifles and pistols, explosives and high-calibre weapons, even physical combat with her fists and knives, should the occasion ever arise.

  But the last few years, since the Emperor grew sick, had been nothing but caretaking. Helping the Emperor eat and change clothing. Administering pain medication. Rubbing his aching muscles. Even helping him bathe and relieve himself. The Emperor had a retinue of servants to help with such tasks, but the condition of his health was a secret that must remain among only the most trusted guards. So the duties fell to those who stayed with him at all times and whose discretion could be assured: The Shieldwardens. Not even all of the Flameguards knew of his true ailment.

  The duties took a toll on all the Shieldwardens, but Pavani most of all. She was not a servant. She was a warrior. So she felt no shame in admitting that the past few hours, since the explosions during the Exodus Fleet ceremony, had been the most exciting of her life. Fighting and protecting, killing the enemies of His Luminance. She was doing what she was trained to do. What she'd been bred to do. It left an excited flurry in her chest, like butterflies tickling her lungs.

  Beth always spoke of this feeling, she thought, her sister's face appearing in her mind. It tugged at her thoughts. Beth. Stationed on the Ancillary, the power station orbiting near Saria. From where their warning--and the disastrous blue beam--had come.