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

by Scott Moon

  Of course, they weren’t Imperial devices. Clavender’s recent problems with the anomaly had nothing to do with the Mazz Imperials. If that were the case, they wouldn’t be so keen to capture her. They wouldn’t need her. Evidence suggested a squad had tried to destroy the beacons and failed. Failed and died.

  A large shape descended from above. The cavern, he now realized, was a gigantic shaft stretching downward to blackness. Beyond where he estimated the ceiling to be hiding in shadow, a ship moved.

  Wrong again, Kin. There’s no end to this place.

  Tendrils of light slipped off the hull of the spacecraft like steam — red, purple, orange and bolts of wormhole energy dissipated.

  At first, he thought the vessel emitted no sound, but as it passed him, he heard quiet engines turning inside the machine. There were no thrusters visible. The ship hovered lower and lower.

  Soon he was looking at the top of the vessel, trying to memorize the subtle patterns in the surface that didn’t seem to be metal. He saw no windows, no sensor arrays, nothing that seemed to steer the ship or provide propulsion.

  The disc stopped.

  He waited. The ship rose back into the darkness. Only the faint illumination of mineral deposits and the tracks of the monsters remained.

  Kin worked his way lower and lower, closer to the coordinates Becca provided. He rushed across bridges and slowed when the footing became treacherous. He had been gone a long time and wasn’t sure what Orlan and the others would do if he failed to return.

  With no choices left, he continued toward Becca’s coordinates.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ANCIENT ships stood side by side, parked on the floor of a cavern that made the Slomn-dominated shaft seem modest and functional. The domed ceiling sparkled with minerals and glowing specks. Fungus? Bacteria? Deadly chemical poisons that would fall, and in the process, reveal they were the size of armored cars?

  The natural cathedral inspired quietude, a respect for nature and destiny, while at the same time urging Kin to laugh like a delighted child. He turned in a slow circle, staring straight up until he was dizzy.

  He gripped his small flashlight and moved toward the closest ship. Despite the twinkling lights above and faint glowing from distant tunnel entrances, the graveyard of ships presented ominous shadows. Not a single piece of the man-made artifacts looked happy to see him.

  The first vessel to appear in the gloom inspired thoughts of Earth Fleet. He’d seen nothing like the design, yet the sight of it resonated. Perhaps the dimension of the fuselage and the basic shape resembled human spacecraft. The ship was huge, even larger than a freighter.

  Kin wandered forward, pistol ready in his right hand, even though he didn’t sense danger. The abandoned fleet reminded him of the Iron Box slum city built in space. Half dockyard and supply depot, half refugee camp, the place housed millions of unwanted souls. The vessels looming over him weren’t as tall and thick as the crude skyscrapers that made the Box a tenement nightmare, but they were bigger than modern vehicles. Whoever made these craft had planned a long voyage.

  Generation ships were bigger. Kin had only seen one, and much of the Forestglow had been a biosphere. The Goliath had also been larger, although most of its hold carried terra-forming equipment. These were military vessels — large, primitive, and covered with dust.

  Small and insignificant, he wandered among mechanical titans until he heard fiddle music. The center of the landing field remained open. Laura, the survivors of Crater Town, and others who had come too late for Westwood’s evacuation celebrated being alive. They were a fraction of the people he had known and protected for nine years. Most had left with Commander Westwood. He recognized the stragglers, even those who had descended from mountain villages at the last moment.

  “Kin!” Laura hurried forward to hug him, following the embrace with a big, open-mouthed kiss. “I may not have a sexy suit of Mech armor, but I’m happier to see you than your girlfriend will be.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  Laura shrugged. “She covered our escape. I’ll be honest, I thought her coordinates were a cruel joke until we found this place.”

  “Did you see the Slomn?”

  Fear crept across her face. “What is a Slomn?”

  Kin hated to spoil the moment. After all Laura and the others had been through, they needed a break. He also knew she would demand an answer. “The Slomn are the reason the Imperials conquer every star system they find and build fortifications that could withstand a nuclear war.”

  Laura hesitated, eyes holding Kin. “Westwood never mentioned an alien race hunting the Imperials.”

  “He probably doesn’t know.” Kin looked the way he had come. “I left Rickson, Orlan and his son, a wounded Ror-Rea, Captain Raien, and an Imperial behind. I need to go back for them.”

  Laura nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Is that a good idea?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “When was the last time I changed my mind?”

  Kin relaxed as Laura recounted the journey of the refugees and many close calls with Imperial search parties. When she finished, he described the Slomn, reassuring her that the stealth ship couldn’t descend the shaft to the ship graveyard.

  Which left the question of where it came from and where it was going unanswered.

  He led the way through tunnels, surprised at how natural it felt to slink through the shadows with Laura. She had always been first on the Crater Town Council, a leader and administrator — not an adventurer. But he never doubted her courage or determination. Traveling with his lover of nine years felt like walking with a friend and comrade-in-arms.

  “Why did Rebecca send you here?” Kin asked.

  “A better question might be how she knew about it,” Laura said.

  Kick cocked an eyebrow.

  “During the first attack, the Shock Troopers hit the Imperials hard, then retreated. Unfortunately, they did too good a job and the bulk of the assault force came after them. Rebecca ordered her unit to dig in for a last stand. I’m sure you understand what she meant by digging in, but I’ve never seen Shock Troopers on the defensive.

  “Before the death blow landed, several oversized foxholes collapsed. Rebecca and her troopers found themselves in a maze that took days to navigate. She returned to the surface to follow you on your silly adventure but regrouped with Randal and the others who reported the extent of the underground labyrinth.”

  Kin paused to listen.

  “What is it?”

  “I thought I heard something slithering.” Kin crept around a corner and saw nothing. “So Dogface found the ships?”

  Laura shrugged.

  “We’re getting close. Remember, there is a Reaper who isn’t a Reaper in our party.”

  “The shape changer. Rebecca told me about Orlan’s son. Such a horribly sad story. Strange that William’s mother is now with your brother.”

  “Not really. My little brother is a good pirate, rich beyond anything you can imagine. And he’s not afraid of brothels.”

  Laura laughed. “You don’t think it’s weird that your brother is playing house with Orlan’s former mistress?”

  Kin thought about Ashton and his fascination with military adventures. Kin was always the hero and Ashton always the hero worshiper.

  “He probably went looking for Orlan to find out if the rumors about me were true. I wonder if he liked the answers.”

  “Kin, I’m sorry. I never knew you had a brother. I’m sure he knows the truth.”

  Kin shrugged. “Wait here. I’ll go up and see if they’re still there.”

  “No way. You’re not leaving me. It’s dark.”

  “ORLAN, I’m coming up.” Kin heard the man grunt and sensed a shadow looming at the top of the steep tunnel.

  “Who’s with you?” Orlan asked.

  “Laura,” Kin said as he holstered his pistol and climbed.

  “That’s a relief. We’re saved.” Orlan offered a hand.

  “I
told you to quit with the sarcasm,” Raien said. “It’s making me tired.” She moved from darkness to frown at Kin and Laura.

  Kin took Orlan’s hand, heaved, and entered the low-ceilinged cave. “Anything to report?”

  “No. I had to threaten Rickson’s life to keep him from going after you, but we worked it out.”

  Kin turned his flashlight to the lowest setting and shined it around the room. Tass squatted next to Nander, glaring at the Imperial prisoner like he might be a meal. She flexed and released her wing. Even though it seemed to be healing, Kin doubted she would fly anytime soon. He’d been wrong before. Tass was as strong and determined as any Ror-Rea warrior he’d ever met.

  Rickson sat leaning against the far wall, his left eye a purple bruise. Ogre stretched across his lap, tongue lolling.

  “What happened to your eye?” Kin asked. He left Orlan to guard the passage and crossed the small room.

  “Orlan told me not to go looking for you. I went anyway.”

  “Tried to go, you mean,” Orlan said.

  Rickson glared. “Next time, I’ll kick your big ass.”

  Orlan laughed. “Everyone has to die someday.”

  “Enough.” Kin moved close to Rickson and spoke quietly. “Where’s William?”

  Orlan answered before Rickson could open his mouth. “Next room. He’s pouting.”

  Kin ducked through a narrow opening. “William, are you okay?”

  Orlan’s son clicked like a Reaper warning a rival to stay back from a kill.

  “We need to go.”

  “Where?” William said. “Why?”

  Kin squatted but kept his distance. “I found Laura and the Crater Town folk.”

  William pierced the darkness with glowing orange eyes. “I don’t believe you. They’re dead. My fault.”

  Kin shook his head. “Laura’s in the next room. See for yourself.”

  Slowly, as though expecting a trick, William followed Kin into the main room of the hideout. He stopped well short of Laura and stared.

  “Is that you, William? Kin said you can’t change back to human form.” Laura stepped forward, reaching with one hand to touch the Reaper.

  “Won’t,” Orlan said.

  “It’s hard,” William said. “Mother never taught me. Now I’m stuck.”

  “You weren’t stuck at the Imperial camp. You weren’t stuck when the first Slomn attacked us in the caverns.” Orlan left his post, bumping his head on a low rock.

  William hissed.

  Kin massaged his forehead as they argued. He paced the room out of habit, checking for signs of danger. Other than being deep underground with dangerous aliens prowling the catacombs, he didn’t see anything threatening besides cold darkness.

  “Orlan, give it a rest. Let’s get to the camp and discuss options.” Kin waited until Orlan nodded, then moved close to Nander. He looked down on the Imperial but said nothing.

  “Are you going to show the way or do you want me to guess?” Orlan asked.

  Kin motioned for Laura and took the lead. They retraced their steps, pausing to check the marks Kin had placed at intersections.

  “Watch this section here. There is a nasty drop just beyond the darkest shadow. Use your lights if you have to, but keep in mind we only have so many batteries,” Kin said.

  “This is a motley band you have gathered up,” Laura said.

  “I’m worried about Nander. I never expected him to be with us this long. Thought he’d escape or Orlan would kill him.” Kin focused ahead but glanced at his companions to be sure they hadn’t fallen behind.

  Laura looked back at Nander. “I’ve never met an Imperial officer.”

  “He’s not an officer.”

  “He looks like one.”

  “In what way?” Kin was curious how a civilian would judge a soldier without rank insignia.

  “He’s restless, like he wants to give orders. His eyes are shrewd. And he’s soft, like an officer.”

  Kin laughed. “Soft isn’t how I’d describe him. If you believe his stories, each Imperial trooper has officer training in case they need to make a lot of battlefield promotions.”

  “That’s not how it is in Earth Fleet?”

  Kin shrugged. “Depends on how you look at it. His description of Imperial life lacks detail. At the same time, he talks too much.”

  “Really?”

  “The only time I would talk if I were a prisoner would be if I thought it might help me escape or gather intelligence I could use when I escaped. That’s the training. Earth Fleet military personnel are required to attempt escape at every opportunity. Nander gave up at least one clear chance to betray us.”

  “So now you trust him?”

  “No. I think he’s up to something. I just don’t know what it is.”

  Laura paused to study the Imperial soldier. “He will know the location of our hideout.”

  “Can’t be helped.”

  With no way to estimate the time of day, the descent felt like a night passage — a trial of endurance. Kin lingered at each intersection, checking markings and closing his eyes to review images of the previous times he came this way. When he reached the final tunnel, he ordered a rest break.

  “Is something wrong?” Laura asked. “We’re almost there.”

  “William is straggling.”

  Laura looked puzzled. “How can you tell? I can’t see him from here.”

  “Orlan was right behind us, but he grumbles and went toward the back of the line.”

  “I know the way from here. Go check on him,” Laura said.

  Kin made eye contact with Orlan as he passed but said nothing. Moments later, he found William the Reaper fifty meters behind the others in total darkness.

  “What’s wrong?”

  William squatted and stood several times, and shook his head much as an agitated Reaper might. “He doesn’t believe me about the Emperor.”

  “Who, your father?”

  “Big, stupid Orlan.” The shapeshifter boy glared toward the invisible party waiting ahead, but seemed to lose focus. He croaked a declaration over and over. “Iron Box. Iron Box. Beggar man. Iron Box.”

  “What is he talking about?” Rickson asked.

  “Damn it, Rickson.”

  “Sorry.”

  The shepherd shifted uneasily. “Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t fell in a hole.”

  “We’re fine. Tell Laura to continue.”

  Rickson didn’t move.

  Kin motioned toward the others. “Go on. I need to talk to William.”

  “You call me William,” the Reaper croaked.

  Kin waited several minutes after Rickson left.

  “Tell me about the Emperor.”

  “You won’t believe me.”

  “I’ll listen.”

  Slowly, Kin coaxed the story from William. During the worst days of his existence in the Iron Box, William wandered the streets trying to find his mother. Her patrons had put him on the space station without telling her. William understood this and lived day to day in hopes she would come for him.

  He starved. He was beaten. He learned to steal and to shapeshift better than his mother ever had, because in truth, he had always known how to shape change, but she had forbidden him to show his skill.

  On the street, where survival was measured in minutes, William learned to appear larger and stronger than he was.

  When his charade failed, he ran from gangs. He ran from security personnel. He ate from trashcans and hunted rats. During one desperate venture into the sewer pipes, William found an old man chained in a cell.

  “Boy, can you undo these chains?”

  William approached cautiously. “Who chained you here?”

  The old man laughed, and for a pathetic wretch, the sound resonated like music. “Why, I chained myself of course. For my sins.”

  “I don’t know why you should do that. Other people are always happy to punish those weaker than themselves.”

  “Do you think I’m weak?�
��

  William considered the question, sensing a trick. “I suppose you must be, or you would free yourself.”

  “Smart boy, but these are my chains. Not so easy to break.”

  “You shouldn’t have chained yourself.”

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Look into my eyes.”

  William was curious. No one had spoken to him for a long time, other than to take his food or his money or his clothing. He moved closer and stared into eyes as infinite as the universe.

  “He was old, Kin. Older than anything I’ve ever imagined.”

  Kin listened.

  “He called me William. I brought him food and wine, although he always asked for water. Clean water wasn’t so easy to find in the Box.”

  Kin listened as the Reaper boy described stealing wine, only to find he couldn’t carry large jugs down the ladders in the sewer system. So he had to steal a bag with straps. Then he had to steal rope. By the time he returned to the old man’s prison, he feared his new friend would be dead.

  “Wake up,” William said as he approached with the water.

  “I was resting my eyes.”

  “I brought you something to eat.”

  “Yes, boy, that is kind. Shall I tell you a story?”

  Night after night, William returned. He brought stolen tools to cut the chains, but was afraid the man would leave him once free. So he listened to stories. Horrible tales of worlds burning and armies slaughtering each other.

  “Are you a shapeshifter?”

  William nodded.

  “One of my children was part shapeshifter. It caused a terrible scandal.”

  “Shapeshifters aren’t bad.”

  “No, boy, they are not. You bring me food and wine, though I requested only water.”

  “How do you live down here?”

  “Haven’t I told you? I am an Emperor. Hard to kill. Harder to teach.”

  “If you’re so old, what would you want to learn?”

  “I would learn forgiveness, but alas, I not only lack a tutor, but I am a poor student.”

  William went to his bag and removed a bolt cutter. Without explanation, he cut the chains.

  Kin listened intently, unaware of his surroundings, untroubled by the darkness that concealed the Reaper’s expression.