But Patrick was not in a rational, logical, or safe frame of mind.
Cain had told them how they could help bring down the Chairman once and for all, and that possibility was just too worthwhile to pass up. He still had the contacts his grandmother had left for him and a large portion of the funds. Now was the time to throw everything into the effort.
“I still can’t convince myself this isn’t a trick.” Zhett looked furtively at the streets behind them. “What does the deputy have to gain by doing this?”
“He’s a smart man. He can see that the Chairman is herding everyone over a cliff — and he doesn’t plan to be one of the lemmings.”
In the crowded streets and plazas, Freedom’s Sword was holding demonstrations. Observing that the protests had gotten wilder in the days since their arrest, Patrick could not help but view the groundswell with a certain level of satisfaction. “A lot of crap is hitting a lot of fans.”
When they walked in among the demonstrators and added their shouts to the rising tide of anger, he was surprised to hear someone call out, “Look — it’s Patrick Fitzpatrick! He’s free!”
“I heard they were executed.”
“They must have escaped.”
“He showed us the evidence against the Chairman!”
“The bastard Chairman murdered his grandmother.”
Patrick flinched, not sure he was ready to draw so much attention, but too many people had noticed him, so he decided to embrace it. He raised both hands as word rippled through the crowd. Some of the noise died down, though people at the outer fringes had no idea what was happening. “Yes, we’re out of prison, and we need to continue our work. All of you are part of the solution.”
“How can we help you?” someone yelled.
“We need a safe place,” Zhett said. With a devilish grin, she added, “And transmission equipment. It’s time to overthrow the Hansa and bring back King Peter. The Chairman’s away for the moment — so there’s no better time.”
Patrick felt giddy with the righteous knowledge of what he could help accomplish and what the old Battleaxe would have done if she had been around. And, yes, he felt a hint of satisfaction at being able to get even for her sake. “I’ve got a plan.”
The crowd swept them along. Even if Hansa guards had come after Patrick and Zhett, these demonstrators would have shielded them. That thought gave him a strange sense of empowerment.
In no time, the group whisked the two of them away to a sheltered place, gave them computers, network access, and imagers. While stewing in his cell, Patrick had mulled over the things he still needed to say. He had mentally rehearsed his speech over and over, polishing his anger and focusing his words.
Now that he finally had another chance, he let loose with a new broadcast, calling them all to arms.
132
Jess Tamblyn
After leaving Golgen, Jess and Cesca guided the Solar Navy and the Confederation ships to Charybdis to make their final preparations. Surrounded by a shimmering haze of energy, the pair stood in the command nucleus of the Mage-Imperator’s flagship.
What had once been a primordial ocean alive with the water elementals now appeared to be a scarred wreck. But Jess and Cesca had broken through to underground aquifers that gurgled up into hot, eager pools. Several of his faithful water bearers had returned seedpools of living water here as part of their work, as well. Those seedpools had flowed and multiplied. Right now, thousands of the tree-bubbles were streaming across open space from Theroc, accompanied by the water bearers in their own ships.
The battle on Golgen had left many of the Solar Navy ships battered and scarred, their anodized hull plates scorched, the solar sails in tatters. Nevertheless, the warliners still formed a mighty fleet with all the Confederation ships that had joined the group.
Adar Zan’nh was impatient to face the faeros as the numerous ships descended over the newly awakened oceans, but Jess assured him the process would not take long. “The wentals know what to do.”
Zan’nh clenched and unclenched his hands and spoke as if reminding himself. “A rush into battle is often a plan for defeat.”
“Give Kotto’s new idea a chance,” Sullivan Gold said. “It sounds like something Tabitha Huck might have come up with.” The Adar looked at him and responded with a faint smile before he nodded.
As the warliners swooped over the cracked landscape covered with large pools of resurrected water, the wentals simmered and rejoiced. The mass of ships cruised low over the glistening pools, and the rejuvenated oceans and lakes bubbled beneath them.
Columns of wental water leaped into the air like cyclones, and fountains of elemental liquid dispersed themselves into a thin spray. The living fog surrounded each warliner and Roamer ship in a cocoon of mist that sparkled in the hazy sunlight. As the combined fleet raced onward without pausing in their flight, each ship gathered a gauzy wreath of protective vapor.
Through their wentals, Jess and Cesca instructed the liquid entities to follow the patterns Kotto had earlier devised, forming themselves into frozen artillery shells. The ships in the combined war fleet drew more of the wental water into their holding chambers, and aboard each vessel, crewmen loaded the icy projectiles into gunports.
Also joining their fighting force, hundreds of pearlescent tree-bubbles arrived from Theroc, like foam droplets on a cosmic tide, each encapsulating a small but vital treeling. Nikko Chan Tylar and the rest of Jess’s volunteer water bearers followed along in their ships.
Jess could feel the powerful wentals surging within his body, ready to challenge their opponents. “The faeros incarnate can be destroyed, and the rest of the faeros can be controlled. Just like the hydrogues. But it will not be easy.”
Cesca took Jess’s hand, and he felt the crackle of energy flow between them. She addressed the Mage-Imperator. “We will lead the charge. The faeros incarnate is as much our enemy as he is yours.”
They went to the warliner’s launching bay, emerged from the airlock, and shot themselves away from the ornate hull, tumbling out into the misty swath that surrounded the warliner. Gathering the droplets around themselves, Jess and Cesca formed a new wental ship for themselves.
Behind them, as the combined fleet left Charybdis and entered open space, all the ships were now veiled in misty shields. Flying their bright sphere in front of the gathered battleships, the new wental bubble shone like a Guiding Star.
In a great sparkling mass, the Solar Navy and the Confederation fleet streaked toward Ildira.
133
Tasia Tamblyn
I hate bugs,” Tasia said, sealing the hatch of the Roamer cargo hauler in preparation for leaving the main Golgen skymine. “I really hate bugs. And you will too, Kotto — as soon as you get to know them.”
Kotto Okiah sat eagerly in the copilot’s chair. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re having second thoughts and would rather be off fighting the faeros. We have to test the Klikiss Siren.”
“No second thoughts at all. My loathing for those bugs gives me all the more incentive to squash them. It is up to us, you know.”
Jess and Cesca, the Ildiran Solar Navy, and flocks of Roamer volunteers had all rushed off to Ildira. Tasia hoped that Robb, Admiral Willis, and the volunteer Confederation ships were accomplishing what they needed to do at Earth, without the Big Goose getting in their way.
That left the group of them — and Kotto’s gadget — to take care of the entire Klikiss race. Fair enough. She was up for it.
But Kotto had insisted that his research compies come with them in case he needed to modify the device on the fly. With those two going on the expedition, DD had asked to join them. And with DD came Orli Covitz and Hud Steinman. Tasia didn’t mind; they had all helped to develop the Siren.
As the hours passed, Kotto spent a great deal of time in the back with the three compies, tinkering with his Siren and running diagnostics. The device was an acoustic transmitter, about a meter across, assembled from dozens of mismatched component
s, circuit boards cannibalized from other equipment, and dangling power leads. Tasia had no doubt it would work. Kotto’s gadgets usually did.
Kotto tapped the curved dish as he explained. “A complex burst from this siren should incapacitate a Klikiss subhive, at least temporarily. If a group of insects is controlled by the thoughts of a single breedex, and we succeed in stunning that breedex by overloading its input, then they should all freeze.”
“I like the way you think,” Tasia said.
“I don’t know exactly how interconnected the various subhives are. We may have to do this quite a few times.”
“Trial and error, Kotto. We’ll figure it out.”
Despite his genius, Kotto hadn’t given much thought as to how they should conduct the actual test run. He had assumed they would simply fly down to the Klikiss-infested planet, land in the middle of a bustling hive, and switch on his Siren.
“Too much of a risk, if we don’t even know the Siren will work,” Tasia said. “Let me think about this — it isn’t your job to make military plans anyway.”
During the day-long journey, Tasia linked the gadget to the ship’s transmitting systems so that they could send out a blast as they flew overhead — using both electromagnetic transmissions and actual acoustic waves from external loudspeakers. They wouldn’t have to land and could keep their maneuverability. The bugs were going to hear the blast, one way or another.
The test would provide a real, tangible answer soon enough . . . or Tasia would find herself fighting her way out and running like hell.
At last, the ship arrived at Llaro, a planet that held only bad memories for Tasia. She flew closer, all her senses alert, ready to dodge the Klikiss swarmships she was sure would be there. She couldn’t shake her recollection of her last experience at Pym.
To her surprise, though, they found not a single alien vessel in planetary orbit — no sign of them at all.
Orli and Steinman came into the cockpit, both of them obviously uneasy. “Nobody’s home?” the old man asked.
“Could it be a trick?” Orli said. “Are they hiding?”
“Why would they go out of their way to hide from us?” Tasia said. “Something else is going on here.”
With high-res sensors she could see the extent of the enormous hive below, at least ten times the size of the original human settlement, far more spectacular than the one she had seen on Pym. “Looks like the breedex has been busy.”
Despite the size, though, she detected no transmissions, thermal emissions, or any other signs of activity whatsoever.
“It’s a ghost town down there,” Kotto said. “Did the Klikiss all leave?”
“Where would they go?” Tasia continued to study the empty city. “I don’t like this at all.”
DD also entered the crowded cockpit. “Have you found any sign of Margaret Colicos? I am sure she would welcome us.”
“No sign of anyone or anything, DD.” Tasia continued on course, alert for danger. “Oh, what the hell — it’s time for a test run. We’ll find out if anything’s down there. Everybody strap in, just in case I have to do some fancy flying.” She flew so swiftly through Llaro’s pastel skies that she left a bright ionized trail behind her. “This should flush them out if they’ve got their bug eyes open. Hello, anybody home?”
The cargo hauler roared over the immense hive city, skimming barely above the twisted towers, the lumpy monoliths, the pockmarked black openings.
Nothing responded. Nothing came out to see them.
She circled around and made a second run. Kotto’s fingers were ready on the Siren’s transmit button, but no Klikiss showed themselves. None.
Finally, gathering her courage, Tasia landed in a swirl of powdery dust where the human colony had been, where she had fought the bugs and rescued the few remaining settlers. Once the cargo hauler was on the ground, she waited a few more tense moments, alert for any movement. Still nothing.
Finally, she opened the hatch and let the dry air and yellowish sunlight flood in. Llaro was completely silent. Completely empty.
“Shizz, where the hell have they all gone?”
134
Sarein
When Sarein was safely aboard the Blind Faith, Captain Roberts took off from the Palace District without bothering to request clearance. He flew swiftly away, ignoring outraged protests from the ground control system. With the threat of rubble bombardment and the chaos of so many scout ships trying to protect Earth, nobody had time to track a single unmarked craft anyway.
Sitting in a comfortable passenger seat, Sarein breathed in the aroma of the new ship: the upholstery, the polish on the decks and bulkheads, the air from the freshly tuned atmosphere recyclers. For her, it was the smell of freedom. “We have to time this carefully,” she said. “We want to be sure Basil has left the flagship before we announce ourselves and ask for sanctuary.”
“We’ll keep an eye on it,” Captain Roberts said.
Sarein swallowed hard. Now that she was on her way, she feared more for Deputy Cain than for herself. He was staying behind. He would have to face Basil. “No, Captain Kett, our worries are far from over.” She closed her eyes in the comfortable passenger seat, felt the ship vibrate as Roberts accelerated away from Earth. “Just get me to my sister and King Peter. They’re the ones I need to talk to.”
Pelted by the tiny rocks that continued to drift toward the planet, the Blind Faith headed out into orbit. They waited at a safe distance from General Brindle’s EDF Juggernaut, watching until Basil’s diplomatic shuttle left the Jupiter and returned to the other Juggernaut.
When they were safely clear, Captain Roberts flew toward the Confederation ships combing space, tightening the net so that no significant fragments passed through. When they approached, Rlinda tapped a transponder, waited for an acknowledgment. “This is Trade Minister Rlinda Kett. I’ve got news, and a guest, for King Peter and Queen Estarra.”
The flagship Juggernaut’s large hull doors swung apart to admit them, and Roberts masterfully guided the ship into an open hangar bay.
Sarein stepped out of the Blind Faith feeling stronger than she could remember feeling for a very long time. That was when she realized that she hadn’t left home, she was coming home.
When she walked onto the bridge, Sarein’s eyes were immediately drawn to King Peter . . . and Queen Estarra. Estarra.
She and her sister were so different. Sarein had been ambitious, excited by the prospect of power and its trappings. Estarra had always been more motivated by love for her family — both before and after her marriage to Peter — than a desire for influence, authority, or wealth.
It had taken years for Estarra to convince her that Basil was not the man Sarein thought he was; she had tried to get Sarein to escape with them during the hydrogue attack on Earth. What would have happened, Sarein wondered, if I had changed my mind that night and gone back to Theroc? Would Basil have lost his desperate hold on power before he could do more damage?
How ironic it was that Estarra, who had never craved power, was no longer a mere puppet queen, but a real queen, because she wanted to help. Queen of the Confederation! And if Sarein had anything to say about it, her little sister and Peter would soon bring Earth into the fold. If she could convince them to act. If they would trust her.
Sarein’s lips formed a tentative smile. “Hello, little sister . . .”
Estarra ran toward her, talking in a rush. “Have you finally left the Chairman? I knew you wanted to tell me something during the banquet! Are you here to stay? He threatened to do something to you if we didn’t cooperate — I’m so glad you’re safe.”
Peter was more cautious. “Basil was just here, and I didn’t fall for his tricks. Did he send you to make us change our minds?”
“No, he has no idea I’m here — and that’s the point,” Sarein said, squaring her shoulders. “I’m here to help you get your throne back. If you care about Earth, you need to act now. Are you interested?”
135
; Chairman Basil Wenceslas
Basil hadn’t stopped grinding his teeth since his extremely unsatisfying encounter with Peter. After briefly stopping at the Goliath, Basil was anxious to get back to Earth. He had wasted enough time on this fool’s errand, and he needed to plan his next move. As the diplomatic shuttle flew away from the EDF Juggernaut, heading back toward Earth, his heart hammered, his head throbbed. He didn’t trust himself to speak to anyone, not his pilot, not General Brindle. No one. He was going to have to take extreme actions to put everything back on track.
Peter had thwarted his ruse with King Rory. Basil had expected to wrap the young man around his finger and coerce him into submission, but that leverage was gone. A stolen piece of flatware — how stupid! But he knew that Peter no longer had any doubt in his mind. The DNA tests would have given conclusive results. Red and black spots danced in front of the Chairman’s eyes.
Now he would be forced to use Sarein as his bargaining chip. Estarra’s sister was the last advantage he had. A part of him didn’t like it, and he hoped he wouldn’t be forced to kill Sarein after all, but he had begun to believe that no good end would come of this.
The situation got worse, though, when he returned to Earth.
As the diplomatic shuttle approached the Palace District, his personal communicator chimed, transmitting a proximity-triggered message on his private channel. It was from Sarein.
Listening to it in private, he could barely breathe. “Your Hansa is corrupt,” she said. “I won’t be a part of it anymore.” Another traitor, another coward had abandoned him! “Whatever happens from now on is the result of your own actions.” The clamor of emotions in his head drowned all rational thought. “Goodbye, Basil.”
Caught up in a whirlwind of silence, he stepped out of the shuttle feeling disoriented, barely able to stand or breathe. He had done everything for Sarein — brought her back into his good graces, showed her how valuable she was to him. He had even overlooked her proven treason and asked her to join him in his safe underground bunker. She hadn’t had any inkling that he might need to use her as a hostage. Why would she turn against him, when he had given her so many chances? Under the right circumstances, she could have had the Hansa!
The Ashes of Worlds Page 44