The Chronicles of Kin Roland: 3 Book Omnibus - The Complete Series

by Scott Moon

  Kin cocked an eyebrow.

  The Imperial trooper knew Raien’s name. Perhaps what the man said about all Imperials being trusted officers could be true, but Nander was probably just a spy.

  “Do you have the authority to make such an agreement?”

  “Yes. I swear by my eternal struggle it will be done as I say. Captain Raien for Clavender. You will be allowed to join us against the Slomn or flee if you wish. We will even provide a ship.”

  Kin glanced at Rickson and the others. “How big?”

  “Any size you like. Big enough for all your people.”

  “Sounds like a good deal, but I don’t need your help.”

  Nander smiled deviously. “Of course you don’t. You are Kin Roland, the Enemy of Man.”

  Kin drew his pistol and held it. “I advise you not to call me that again.”

  Nander stared.

  “Have you ever been held captive in a Reaper birthing pit as flesh was eaten from your body and regenerated?”

  Nander narrowed his eyes, held his breath.

  “Have you ever floated through space, abandoned in a coffin? Don’t worry about the Slomn. Worry about what I’ll do if you betray me.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  DAYLIGHT prevented Kin from approaching the Imperial mountain base. He watched from a distance, unsure if the fortifications could be breached. He hadn’t seen an Imperial ship land for days, although patrolling infantry units were hard to avoid.

  Fatigue murmured in his ear. He pretended deafness.

  The Imperial presence on Crashdown exceeded anything Kin had witnessed. He spoke quietly to Orlan, who lay so motionless, he could be asleep or dead. “I wish we had this kind of firepower when we assaulted Hellsbreach.”

  Orlan grunted.

  Kin couldn’t locate the red wing icon, not from this distance, although hundreds of armored war machines straddled hidden bunkers. From what Nander revealed of Imperial equipment, the units in question were designated as medium battle tanks. Earth Fleet would call them Colossal Class and worship them as indestructible.

  Regardless, Captain Raien was a prisoner and Kin meant to liberate her.

  “Everything is bigger and better in the Grand Mazz Imperial Army,” Kin said.

  “You’re chatty today. You get laid or something?”

  “With your mom. Had to use credit. Sorry.”

  Orlan moved his head in the sniper equivalent of a head shake. “It’s that kind of talk that gets you in fights.”

  “Have you found the tank Tass described?” Kin asked.

  The big trooper had been in a sour mood. He barely argued or swore. Perhaps Kin should be concerned, but it was a nice change of atmosphere. And it made him easy to taunt.

  From Kin’s concealed observation post, infiltrating the base seemed impossible. One person or two people might sneak inside the perimeter but only with luck bordering on Divine intervention. He hoped the defenses were less formidable up close.

  Orlan shifted. He glanced at the others, then faced the Imperial base. “We can’t take Nander. I don’t trust him.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “That hurts.” Orlan paused. “The best person for this mission is Billy.”

  Kin listened without comment as he tracked the movement of guards on the wall.

  Orlan popped his knuckles. “He may look like a Reaper, but he’s still just a boy. I don’t know why I even mention him as part of a plan.” The day moons of Crashdown hung heavy above. “Do you think Raien is worth the risk?”

  Kin didn’t want to face the question. Not because he doubted Raien’s value, but because the question implied failure. He pushed doubt aside. Without Raien, he had little chance to unravel the mystery of the wormhole beacons. Sooner or later, Crashdown would burn. Had the Imperials set the beacons to repel the Slomn or had the Slomn placed them to open a passage across space?

  Kin felt Orlan staring, waiting for an answer. What had he asked? Kin glanced up, then toward the Imperial base before answering.

  “There aren’t many of us left. We’ll get Raien back, with or without Nander.”

  Orlan nodded, but when he spoke, it was to reassert his distrust of the Imperial. “Nander has told us the layout of the base and the guard schedule. Taking him on this mission is an unnecessary risk. One word from him, and we’ll be joining Raien instead of saving her.”

  Kin considered Rickson, then answered, “Who is going to watch him while we’re gone? Rickson can’t handle him. Tass is too weak, and if she could, she’d murder him in his sleep.”

  “Now that would break my heart.”

  “You’re the one who saved him.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  Kin continued. “William won’t be any help. He’s just a boy, like you said.”

  “Maybe he’ll change out of the Reaper form. With luck, he might be useful. He could pose as an officer, give us some time if we’re caught.”

  “What would he know about impersonating a Mazz?” Kin asked. He shuddered as he remembered the incident with the first Slomn. What had Billy done to stop the monster?

  Kin recalled the impression of a wise man, something from deep in his own memories most likely. A vague feeling troubled him. He wished he had seen what happened clearly. Billy was hiding a secret.

  “Can shape changers copy people or creatures they haven’t met?” Kin asked.

  “How would I know?” Orlan hesitated, seeming embarrassed. “I showed Tabitha pictures of the women I wanted. The looks were the same. Can’t say they acted the same. Hell, Roland, why are we talking about this?”

  Kin laughed, the first surprise laugh he’d enjoyed for a while. “You brought it up. I don’t think it would be a good idea to rely on William to impersonate an officer.”

  “It’s not your idea, so it’s no good. I see how it is. I’m the Hero of Man, not you. Maybe we should do things my way for a change.”

  Kin argued with Orlan as they studied the Imperial camp. Guards relieved other guards. Patrols left and returned. Eventually, Kin and Orlan agreed to take turns watching the enemy. Kin took first watch. When Orlan came hours later, Kin could barely keep his eyes open. He went back to Rickson and the others, checked the prisoner, and found a place to sleep.

  The sweetest dream of Becca comforted him, although she whispered in Laura’s voice. Sleep rendered such inconsistencies meaningless. Becca slipped from the covers of their comfortable bed and donned armor. Kin watched her go, confident she would return.

  That was the best part of the dream.

  Just before he awoke, he saw Clavender standing on a sunlit hill with tendrils of the wormhole embracing her. Reapers squatted around her without attacking.

  He squinted. The Reaper younglings were small and strange. They tossed an animal back and forth. The cruel game failed to distress Kin. The soothing opiate of dream sleep ignored his fear. When he saw wings on the little monsters, he sat straight up.

  Clavender’s ethereal voice whispered in his mind, “You’re the King of the Bleeding Grounds now, Kin. Some things can’t be erased. You can’t change who you are.”

  Orlan paused with a water skin near his mouth, startled by Kin’s sudden movement.

  Kin looked around, then struggled to his feet. “Why aren’t you watching the Imperials?”

  “Rickson took a turn. Relax, Kin. Not a single patrol came close to us.”

  Kin checked his weapons. “Rickson’s not trained for surveillance.”

  “And yet he’s better at it than you,” Orlan said.

  “Do you want to get Raien back or are you just pretending to give a shit?” Kin understood the chance of rescuing her was slim and feared making a mistake. One wrong step would mean disaster. Laura and the others needed them. Perhaps Raien was lost. He knew all these things, but it wasn’t in his nature to give up.

  Orlan stretched out and closed his eyes. “The shepherd identified three guard posts you didn’t see.”

  Kin waited for another
insult and resisted the urge to mention that Orlan hadn’t seen the hidden guard posts either. That would be admitting Orlan was right to give the boy a turn, so Kin kept his mouth shut.

  The Bleeding Grounds of the Ror-Rea existed in his imagination just beyond reach. He felt as though he understood the place, invisible and intangible as it was. Like the vision of William’s transformation, his brain was full of impressions colored by emotion and superstitious fear.

  He joined Rickson on the ledge. “Give me an update.”

  Rickson remained quiet for another moment. “A large battle moved near the camp on the far side. It’s gone now, but I think they are going to send out a contingent of small armored vehicles and infantry as reinforcements.”

  Kin watched Imperial troopers forming columns inside their perimeter. “You’re right. If we can get close, we might sneak in when they open their line.”

  Rickson shook his head. “We should try when they come back. Follow them in somehow. Or better yet, try when they break camp. If they win the battle, they will move their base forward. If they lose, they might have to retreat.”

  Kin considered Rickson’s analysis. “Not bad. Get some sleep. I think I have an idea.”

  “What kind of idea?”

  Kin hesitated. “I need to work on the details.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  KIN’S plan was a bit like taking a Reaper by the tail. Of course, the tail of his quarry made Reapers seem like old friends.

  Bold soldiers took risks. A marching song about old soldiers and bold soldiers came to mind. He liked the melody better than his chances.

  Heavily armed, disciplined troopers moved through darkness with barely a hint of boredom. Defensive patrol was a well-honed art in any modern fighting force, but the Imperials treated the drill like a religion. They owned the terrain around the mountain base.

  Mazz Imperials looked human, but Kin realized their psychology was entirely different.

  Nander, what he said and what he didn’t say, provided the germ of Kin’s idea. If he was right, there was a surefire way to drive the Imperials into a confused frenzy despite the professionalism of each soldier. Orlan had hated the plan but agreed to do his part. Lately, the Earth Fleet sergeant hated every plan that didn’t involve his son changing out of Reaper form.

  Jack Washington Orlan, father of the year.

  It could happen.

  Kin went as deep into the mountain looming near the Imperial base as he dared without getting lost. Signs of Slomn movement nearly caused him to turn back. In his head, he thought of the creature from the subterranean lake. What he hadn’t imagined were grooves in the stone, smoke rising from glowing streaks on the floor and walls, and the presence of fear that made Reaper games seem like harmless pranks.

  He couldn’t turn back.

  Serpent-men stalked him, gazing through the darkness to ponder what he was and what was wrong with his mind that he would trespass in hell.

  He waited until a Slomn moved close to his hiding place, then made a break for it, hands thrust forward to feel his way in the lightless place. The part serpent, part salamander man-thing came fast, tail lashing the stone passage for speed. Just before Kin emerged from the tunnel, he heard a sound that almost drove him to his knees.

  He’d suffered Reaper nightmares. Until now, he hadn’t considered that Droon’s terroristic visions came with dialogue — suggestive words, lies, promises, demands to run. The silent roar of the psionic Slomn attack was like the void of space, total and unstoppable.

  He had seen one of the creatures up close and hoped to never repeat the experience. From a distance, individual Slomn radiated menace. They seemed to avoid moving near one another. Kin had never heard them speak. If Nander could be believed, most Slomn communications were telepathic. The Imperial asserted Slomn warriors only gathered to procreate or meld attacks so powerful that they often destroyed themselves.

  Now Kin heard the Slomn screaming. The sound hurt his bones. He burst into the night air, convinced he had made a terrible miscalculation as he dropped into a ravine. Orlan appeared on cue and led the Slomn into the valley.

  Rickson and Tass executed the next phase of the plan, drawing the Slomn’s attention long enough for Orlan to escape and for Kin to set an explosion that would alert the Imperials to the presence of their ultimate enemy.

  Chaos engulfed the mountainside as Imperial strike forces moved against the Slomn and three of his hellish companions that erupted from the mouth of the tunnel like arch demons. As a bonus, Reapers, Ror-Rea, and packs of wolves fought isolated battles against Imperials that had hunted them in engagement after engagement for the last several days. Kin even saw a Clinger.

  Welcome to scenic Crashdown. See the sights, meet the natives. You’ll lose your mind in terror.

  That brought him up short, because where there was one parasite, there were others. His evaluation of the many-sided confrontation was interrupted by the sight of a native bear rising on two legs and fleeing an unseen enemy. Birds exploded from trees. Kin looked to the sky, expecting to see the wormhole swatting the ring of moons, but the anomaly remained translucent and aloof.

  Kin rendezvoused with Oran and William after ensuring Rickson and Tass had Nander under guard.

  “Lead the way,” Orlan said.

  Kin took them into the midst of the Imperials, who moved to attack in one area and defended in another. A random bullet hissed overhead.

  William had accepted the plan but refused to promise to change into an Imperial officer. Had the young man known the details of Imperial uniforms and equipment, had he known how to talk like a soldier, such a ruse would have been useful. Kin understood Orlan was thinking of more than getting his son back. A skilled agent of espionage with the ability to shape change would have been a gift. But William was just a boy who hated his father.

  Tricking the guards wasn’t necessary. Kin spotted the few remaining Imperials and avoided them. He discovered two empty prison bunkers before locating Raien. Holding the simple hatch open, he peered into the hole. He looked at Orlan, who watched for guards from the corner of an Imperial storage unit.

  “I found her. She’s unconscious. I’m going in,” Kin said.

  A shaft had been bored into the earth, probably by one of the machines that drilled foundations for the rapidly constructed buildings and walls. At the bottom, Raien lay curled in a ball, one leg having given up the posture to sprawl toward the wall. Kin latched the metal hatch open and descended a meager row of handgrips.

  “These things are worthless.”

  Orlan moved close. “What’s the problem?”

  “Where to start?” Kin said. “Don’t worry about it, unless you can find me smaller hands. I think this ladder is literally a cruel joke.”

  Orlan leaned in. With his left hand, he covered his flashlight so a tiny beam of illumination peeked through his fingers when he clicked it on. “I’ve seen this before. The rungs require a climbing tool. Their FSPAA units probably have them.”

  I should have figured that out, Kin thought.

  “There’s blood inside of the hatch. Looks like Raien tried to escape a few times. Bet she doesn’t have much left of her fingernails.” Orlan left the top of the hole briefly, then returned. “Pass her up to me. I’ll carry her.”

  At the bottom of the prison cell, Kin came to the same conclusion but didn’t share the grim evidence with the others. Captain Raien had tried to burrow through the walls. Two dangerous tunnels had collapsed. It also seemed she had been punished for each escape attempt. Her left eye was swollen. Her arms, shoulders, and back had been lashed savagely.

  Kin pulled a mumbling, incoherent body over his shoulder and began climbing with one hand. He grabbed a rung with the fingertips of his left hand, heaved, set his feet on the new level, and leaned as close as he could to the ladder for balance. With six inches mastered, he reached for the next rung with his left hand as he held Raien with his right.

  Up and up. The captain of the 11th LRC
seemed to gain weight during the ascent. Kin’s hands and forearms trembled to hold his passenger and the rung.

  Orlan leaned down and grabbed a handful of short hair. “Sorry, Captain.” He pulled her up smoothly.

  It was good to have Orlan’s help. The big man slung Raien over his shoulder, carrying her as easily as an adult carried a child.

  “Try to keep up, Orlan.” Kin hurried toward an open stretch of the perimeter, praying the guards had not moved while he was extracting Raien from the prison cell. His breath came in uneven gasps. Every muscle in his body ached from the climb. “I did the hard part, you slacker.”

  Orlan grunted.

  Raien murmured, confused as she bounced on the big trooper’s shoulder. “There is a Reaper chasing you.”

  Orlan looked back but offered no explanation to the captain.

  Kin glanced back and winked at William. He stopped and put one hand on the side of Raien’s face, looking into her eyes with concern. “He’s not a very dangerous Reaper. Used to be Commander Westwood.”

  Raien’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  “Long story. I’ll tell you later.” Kin smiled at her. It was good to have her back.

  She frowned and tried to slide off Orlan’s shoulder. “I can walk.”

  He grabbed her before she could fall and hiked her up.

  “You got her?” Kin asked.

  “Yeah. Let’s go!”

  Realizing the way was blocked, Kin turned and ran. One guard had patrolled this stretch of the perimeter when they came in. Now there were three. The newcomers opened helmets and drank water from tubes. Signs of the recent battle decorated their armor.

  Kin hustled Orlan and William behind an armored troop carrier. “Get back. Don’t move.”

  “Good work, Kin. Thanks for getting us caught.” Orlan muttered as he moved around the other side of the square vehicle to look for an escape route.

  Kin kept his eye on the guards as they began walking their patrol. He checked Orlan, who shook his head. No escape in that direction.

  Soon there were more guards. Battle tanks arrived from the recent battle and parked in formation, making the base that much bigger and more dangerous.