by Thomas Locke
All discussions between the Cygnean rulers and representatives of the Human Assembly took place in the vessel’s main ready room. What the Cygnean high council thought of Sean’s warning and the subsequent hoopla, Sean had no idea.
No transiter had set foot on the main planet since Sean had raised the alert. Anyon had issued that order over Sean’s objections. After all, Logan’s team had ghost-walked for years. It was the Watchers and their hunting system that had awoken the threat. But Anyon had not been in any mood to discuss the matter, and the order remained in place.
That evening Sean returned to Aldwyn to stand duty as they laid Sidra to rest with full military honors. Logan’s uncle Linux attended with two of his senior aides. The chief of the Hawk clan was clearly cowed by how the senior Cygnean commanders treated Logan as one of their own. Tiko was there as well, because Brodwyn had ordered him and his elders to attend.
Following the funeral, Brodwyn summoned the troops to an awards ceremony. There she pinned on Logan the Cygnean medal for valor. She then promoted him to full colonel and appointed him military governor of the Outer Rim. At some point in the near future, the Cygnean council would officially declare planetary elections and Aldwyn would revert to civilian rule. Until then, Brodwyn declared in her firmest official voice, Logan’s word was law.
A banquet followed the two ceremonies. Logan asked his two newly brevetted captains, Nicolette and Vance, to serve as official hosts. Following the initial toasts, Brodwyn promoted Logan’s entire crew and hung medals on everyone. She and one of Anyon’s ensigns then transited back to the vessel stationed over Cygneus Prime. As the party grew both loud and raucous, Sean transited to the vessel as well, to ensure there had been no change to the planet’s calm. Then he retreated to his newly assigned quarters in the Aldwyn militia headquarters.
After the banquet, Logan stopped by Sean’s room and complained bitterly over Tiko being allowed to go free. Sean said nothing and let the newly brevetted colonel vent. The loss of Sidra clearly lay heavy on Logan’s heart. But Sean thought Brodwyn was probably right to keep Tiko in place, at least for the moment. Linux and the Hawks might have come out on top, but Clan Havoc was going nowhere. At least this way, the Havoc fief was ruled by someone firmly under Logan’s thumb.
The next morning, Sean’s ensign woke him with the news that Ambassador Anyon awaited him in the mess hall. Sean showered and dressed and found the Diplomat listening intently as Vance, Nicolette, and Logan designed a strategy on a tabletop using plates, spoons, mugs, and lines of engagement drawn with cold coffee.
When Sean approached, Anyon excused himself and asked, “Do you need something to eat?”
“Just coffee.”
“Grab yourself a mug, and let us depart. There’s something I think you should see.”
The inland sea of what formerly had been the Hawk fief was gripped by a frigid winter wind. Anyon sent the ensign for warm coats, then motioned for Sean to walk the beach with him. Sean did not mind the bitter cold. He was outdoors, breathing real air, filled with scents and seasons and life.
A series of tree-covered islands was strung along the shore like an icy necklace. Beyond that was nothing save white-capped waves and a shore lost to mist and distance. Some of the islands he could see were little more than rocky mounds, covered with an impenetrable tangle of brambles and wind-scarred trees. The one where they walked was vast by comparison, at least a couple of miles from end to end, and shaped like a crescent moon.
When the ensign returned with jackets, Anyon instructed her to await them on the orbiting vessel and pointed Sean down to the rocky shoreline. As they walked the beach, Anyon pointed out the weapons that now rimmed the shore. “The Cygnean high command would not do this because I insisted, or even because General Brodwyn ordered. They did it because they agree with your assessment.”
Sean released a breath he’d been holding since issuing his warning. “What if I got it wrong?”
“Then you did it for all the right reasons.”
“I’ve been so worried,” he confessed.
“I know you have, which is why we’re here. So that I can tell you this: I and every other senior official have been where you now are.” Anyon let that sink in for a long moment, then asked, “What led you to your conclusion?”
“It was Kaviti,” Sean replied. “He was obsessed with this system. He clearly discovered the legends about the Grey Assassins and the ditrinium weapons they wielded. I realized that if one component of the planet’s lore was true, the other probably was as well. Then I was attacked while I was hunting Clan Havoc, and the Watchers went berserk, and Cylian was assaulted when she dozed off in the meeting. It all pointed to just one possible conclusion.”
“A conclusion no one else managed to see,” Anyon added.
“What’s happened to Kaviti?”
“An interplanetary arrest warrant has been issued for the Ambassador and his entire cadre. He is no doubt crouched in some dark corner where he hopes we cannot reach him. But it is only a matter of time before we apprehend him and his Assassins.”
Sean had his doubts but said nothing.
They walked in silence as they passed in front of a pair of massive weapons trained at the lake’s placid surface. Then Anyon said, “Becoming aware of a planetary threat is a great feat.”
“If I’m right,” Sean added.
Anyon waved that aside. “My daughter called you an Adept. Only time will tell if this is the case. What I can say is that you have the makings of a very gifted Diplomat. Whether or not you are correct in this one assessment will not alter my opinion. It is not because of this one conclusion that I address you as I do.”
Sean’s legs refused to take another step. Anyon took another couple of paces before he realized that he walked alone. He turned back and revealed a craggy smile. “Time and again you have taken what others view as a great series of disconnected shards and knit together the vessel from which they all came. You repeatedly do this in the midst of chaos and conflict. Lives depend upon a Diplomat being able to accomplish such feats, even in the fire of battle.”
Sean heard his voice break as he asked, “What if I got this all wrong?”
“Sooner or later in your career, you will do just that. You will shame yourself and everyone who has trusted you by making a monumentally bad decision.” The Ambassador turned and stared out to sea. “The wrong verdicts will haunt you, as they do me. You will carry them as lifelong burdens.”
Sean had no idea what to say.
“That is the cost of holding the sort of power and responsibility that form the Diplomat’s life. And the fact that you are burdened by these uncertainties is an indication that I am right to speak with you as I do.” His gaze swiveled around to fasten upon Sean, holding a force as fierce and implacable as the winter storm that surrounded them. “Such elements cannot be taught. They are gifts. And such gifts as these can only be honed.”
“Your daughter once said you were the most intelligent of men. I think she was right,” Sean said.
Anyon drew himself up to full height. “I want you to become a senior aide on my staff.”
“I accept,” Sean replied hoarsely.
“Excellent. You will attend classes in the school of Diplomacy. We will meet on occasion, but I do not care to involve you in mundane duties at present. Instead, your appointment will remain confidential between us and the head of the school. I will personally ask her to serve as your tutor.”
“Sir . . . Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. It is well deserved.” Anyon glanced at his timepiece. “Now unless there is something else, I suggest—”
Anyon did not have an opportunity to finish his question. Which was probably for the best, because Sean had been about to ask if he would be required to serve with Elenya. But all that was suddenly shoved aside.
The winter lake turned molten. Then the shoreline was blasted by fire.
53
Flames rising from the lake formed a roilin
g wave, a tsunami of rage. Steam blasted in a funnel straight into the air. Mist billowed out from this central pillar like a giant wheel. A wave of fire rose up and descended upon the shore where they stood. Sean had time to register all this in the one brief instant it took to grip the Ambassador’s arms and step away.
As it was, they were almost too late.
They landed on the orbiting vessel and sprawled in the foyer that served as the ready room for the flight deck and the Cygnean council chamber. Thankfully, Brodwyn was there, deep in conversation with Commander Taunton. A meeting must have just broken up, because the antechamber held a dozen or so people. They all gaped in shock at the sight of the two new arrivals. Both Sean and Anyon smoldered from the flames that had almost consumed them.
Sean croaked, “It’s happening.”
Brodwyn used her parade-ground voice to command, “Sound the alarm!”
As Sean helped Anyon rise to his feet, the Ambassador showed his age for the very first time. Being that close to his own death had clearly left him shattered. He gripped Sean’s arm with tremulous force and whispered, “You saved my life.”
Sean saw Brodwyn gesture to him and knew the Ambassador’s comments would have to wait. “Sir, I need to go back.”
Anyon’s gaze searched the metal chamber for a fury that was not there. “Back?”
Sean gently pried away Anyon’s fingers and said what the Ambassador needed to hear. “You’re safe now.”
Brodwyn reached out as Sean approached. “Show me.”
Sean, Brodwyn, and Commander Taunton returned with the first contingent of Praetorian Guards. A frontline phalanx had been stationed on the orbiting vessel to serve as shock troops. The shipboard Watchers were backed up by ground troops on observation detail with direct comm links to the vessel. The reason for their silence was clear the instant they arrived back on Cygneus Prime.
The forward command post was atop a trio of steel towers built upon a hill overlooking the eastern cannons. Or it would have been, if the blasters still existed. The first waves of flames had rolled back by the time they arrived, leaving behind a sea rimmed by ash and heaps of molten metal.
The Praetorians transited onto transport platforms that looked to Sean like floating patios. More and more of the transports lifted from the ground and hovered over the blackened earth. The lake boiled, and the rising steam clouds were fierce enough to defy the winter storm. Sean felt his face sweat and his back freeze.
Brodwyn was busy regrouping her ground troops when Carver appeared at the tower’s rear quarter. He stepped forward and saluted Brodwyn. “General, I suggest—”
His comment was cut off by the second assault, which caused even these hardened warriors to freeze in shock.
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To Sean, the beasts most resembled giant moray eels. Ones that blasted fire. Their bodies were brown as dried earth and mottled with darker splotches. They were thick as freight trains and just as long. The first three to fully emerge wriggled through the ash and took snakelike aim at the tower where they stood.
Sean screamed with half a dozen others, “Shields!”
An instant later, flames engulfed their platforms.
The beasts were fast.
In less than half a dozen frantic heartbeats, a dragon wrapped itself around their tower and blanketed them with the stench of seaweed and dead fish. The tower was protected with the same force that kept them alive. But with a series of loud bangs, the beast wrenched away the structure’s foundations.
Brodwyn gripped Sean’s arm and shouted loud enough for all the tower’s occupants to hear, “Overhead platform! Go!”
They transited up and crowded the railing. Directly below, the tower was now freed from its shield and was instantly crushed to a single twisted scrap. The fiend released its hold, sought a new prey, spotted the platform, and blasted them yet again.
Their pilot shifted position away from the flames, granting them a bird’s-eye view of more and more eels emerging from the waters. The lake’s surface boiled now, a single writhing mass of elongated, fire-breathing worms.
Brodwyn gripped her comm link with a fierceness that turned her hands to talons. “Team one, cage the sea! Team two, enfold and trap!”
The Praetorians were organized into the same tight units that had bested the aliens’ latest invasion. The downside was communication. Organizing their reprisal meant directing several hundred cadres. Commander Taunton took control of the sea-bound forces, with Carver and Dillon serving as his seconds. Brodwyn directed the assault upon the nine beasts that were advancing across the shore toward her troops’ rear positions.
Gradually their tactics developed into a sense of control and order. The beasts’ forward momentum became glutinous, as though they were trapped in invisible cages. But their immense fury did not diminish. Even when their progress was halted, they continued to shoot out great bouts of flame. Then nooses formed by the Praetorians’ combined force were fitted around the nine snouts, and the fires were extinguished.
Smoke and flames blasted across the sea’s surface, illuminating the multitude of cages that now enveloped all the remaining beasts.
One of Brodwyn’s rear guards shot a cannonade at the nearest sea cage. A faint crack appeared in the shield, and a head wriggled free and spouted fire at the closest transports.
“Cease fire! Cease fire!” Brodwyn was genuinely irate. “Who released that shot?”
Wisely, the comm link gave off nothing but a faint static.
“The next idiot who fires I will personally skin alive!” Brodwyn watched as the Praetorians crammed the beast’s head back inside and rebuilt the shield. She then said to Taunton, “With your permission, Commander, we will move on to the next step.”
In reply, Taunton said into his comm link, “Begin phase three.”
55
The eels that had emerged farthest from the ash rimming the inland sea were stretched out taut. Their quarter-mile lengths were trapped within a multitude of Praetorian shields. Even so, their bodies continually spasmed in furious efforts to break free. Every tight breath shot puffs of flame across the fields by their heads.
Brodwyn said, “Proceed, Commander.”
Taunton said into his comm link, “On my signal. One, two, three, lift!”
Nine snared mouths snarled in futile rage as the beasts were raised from the ground. Dozens of transport pods surrounded them on every side—up, down, sides, front, and back. They made a bizarre yet stately procession as they crossed snow-dappled fields, a string of low hills, and a grove of winter-bare trees. The entire journey was punctuated by snarls and tight flame bursts. Sean’s platform held the lead position. When he looked back, he saw lips rippling with fury, revealing teeth as long as he was tall.
Their destination was a lake nestled deep within a steep, snow-covered valley. Sean had only seen pictures up to that point. He thought the setting was almost perfect. The lake was about half a mile wide, and its placid surface reflected the slate-grey sky.
Dillon spoke for the first time since the attack began. “This place is a beaut. Shame we’ve got to mess it up.”
Sean did not realize his brother had spoken in English until Brodwyn demanded, “What did he say?”
She gave a terse nod at Sean’s translation, then told Taunton, “Position the beasts, Commander.”
“Aye, ma’am.” At his orders, the nine fiends were stationed like writhing arrows around the lake’s outer perimeter. Their snouts were angled down, down, down to the lake. “They are all in place, General.”
“Give the order, Commander.”
He leaned forward so as to direct his smile at Sean. “It was the young man’s idea, General. Perhaps he should have the honor.”
Brodwyn ordered, “All transports are to move back behind the safety perimeter.”
They left the eels alone and reversed back another hundred meters.
Taunton said, “All transports in position, General.”
She handed the comm link to
Sean. “Call it in.”
Sean exchanged an excited grin with his brother, then said, “Drop the bomb.”
56
The bomb was large enough to require a transport of its own.
The transport was shaped like a metal crab, with multiple limbs for scooping and maneuvering heavy loads. It hovered directly over the center of the icebound lake and released its solitary load.
The bomb descended silently through the air, pierced the lake’s icy surface, and disappeared with a soft splash.
For a long moment, the only sound was the gasping snarls from the captured beasts.
Then the bomb ignited.
The platforms and monsters were all shielded from the blast. Even so, the force was powerful enough to shake their vision. When the mist and roar and smoke subsided, the lake was just . . .
Gone.
For the first time since their assault began, the monsters were completely, utterly . . .
Still.
The valley was blasted clean of snow, grass, trees, shrubs, water. The former lake was nothing more than a deep pit in the earth.
Brodwyn turned to Logan and said, “Would you be so good as to translate?”
“It would be an honor, General.”
She said into her comm link, “Full amplification.” Then she handed it over and began, “We were not the ones to attack your stronghold. We seek only peace between our races—” She stopped because Logan shook his head. “Yes?”
“General, the dragon speech has no word for ‘peace.’”
“Is that so?”
“My father took great pride in the fact.”
“As I fear did too many others of our forebears. Very well. Tell them, ‘We seek an end to war.’” She waited as he translated, then continued, “If you ever attack us again, we will annihilate your entire race. But so long as you do not attack, then the inland sea will remain your abode. What is more, we will do our utmost to keep you safe. We would ask for an alliance between our races. There is no doubt much we could learn from you. But that is for you to decide. If you wish to communicate with us, you should make contact with our . . .” She turned to Logan. “Do they have a word for the ghost-walkers who hunt?”