Of Fire and Night

by Kevin J. Anderson

Seconds before the warglobes came within firing range, the Ildiran commander sent a silent signal to his ornate battleships. Nearly seven hundred warliners spun about in a precision maneuver as if they were all connected to the same puppet strings. Every one of the Ildiran vessels turned their weapons ports away from the hydrogues and aimed at Lanyan’s last-stand fleet.

  In an instant, the Solar Navy warliners completely surrounded Lanyan’s ships. All of them.

  “What the hell?” The General lurched to his feet.

  Ahead, the warglobes slowed, dispersing to take up positions—exactly as if they had expected this to happen.

  Lanyan ran to the communications console, opened a channel to the Ildiran flagship. “Adar Zan’nh, what the hell are you doing?”

  It was a rhetorical question, though. General Lanyan knew a betrayal when he saw one.

  118

  KING PETER

  Four hours before dawn, Peter awoke to the sounds of urgent activity outside the royal suite. After Cain’s warning the night before, OX had stationed himself inside their locked-down chambers to keep watch in case Basil made his move before they could implement their own plans.

  Estarra hurried to the balcony and stared out. The Palace District illumination banks switched off one by one. The brighter buildings dimmed like snuffed embers. Muffled sirens echoed through the streets. “Peter, all the city lights are going out.”

  He and Estarra had known something was going to happen, and they had to be ready to move the moment they saw an opportunity. From out in the corridor, he heard running footsteps and shouted orders. The royal guards were on the move. “OX, do you know what’s going on?”

  The Teacher compy said, “I have not been in contact with outside news sources, although this reminds me of when the first Ildiran septa arrived, long ago. The Earth government thought they were being invaded—”

  “The hydrogues must be attacking.” Peter dressed quickly. Through the balcony window, the city’s normal glow had faded to an ominous darkness. What possible good would a blackout do in the face of a civilization-destroying hydrogue armada?

  Captain McCammon and the guards normally stationed outside their chambers snapped brisk comments back and forth. McCammon knocked his maroon beret askew as he touched an embedded earphone to receive an update. He quickly dispatched three of his uniformed men. “—and run!”

  “Captain, what is it?” Peter’s voice was calm and authoritative.

  The guard captain snapped to attention. “The hydrogues have launched an assault, Your Majesty—as we feared. The number of warglobes is even greater than we expected.”

  “Will our perimeter ships be able to keep them away from Earth?” Estarra said.

  McCammon’s skin looked pale and gray in the dim emergency lighting. “General Lanyan and the Ildirans are mounting a defense, but there seems to be some confusion. The Solar Navy warliners are not behaving as expected.”

  The Ildirans? Nahton had told them what the Mage-Imperator might do.

  “Has Chairman Wenceslas called for me yet?” He knew, of course, that Basil would never do such a thing.

  “The Chairman is in the war room in an emergency council session. I’ve just sent your other guards to assist him.” McCammon and his fellow guard squared their shoulders and thrust out their jaws. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. We can offer sufficient protection. Just the two of us. Loyal guards.” He seemed to be hinting at something.

  Peter looked questioningly at the Queen. They would never get a better diversion, and the continuing confusion might assist their escape. It had to be now. Estarra gave a faint nod.

  Peter slipped his hand inside his garments. McCammon had not noticed or commented upon the odd fact that the royal couple were wearing casual street clothes instead of their usual robes. Peter wrapped his fingers around the twitcher McCammon himself had given them in their escape from the poisoning attempt, hating what he had to do.

  “Captain McCammon, I want to thank you for your service. You have done your duty well.” He struggled to keep the tremor out of his voice.

  The praise brought a hint of a smile to the corners of McCammon’s mouth. Knowing he could never turn back, the King drove aside his regrets, thinking of his wife, his unborn child, and all the deadly webs Basil had woven. Peter had no choice. He truly had no choice. Their lives were at stake.

  He pointed the twitcher at McCammon’s face. “I’m very sorry, Captain. But if my Queen and I don’t escape now, we’ll never have another opportunity like this.”

  The astonished second guard fumbled for his sidearm, but the guard captain moved in a surprising blur, yanking out his own twitcher and blasting the guard. The other man crumpled to the floor. It all had happened so quickly! Peter hadn’t even been able to get off a shot. He looked at the fallen guard, still keeping his twitcher pointed at McCammon. “I don’t know why you did that, but we have to escape now. I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this.”

  “Sorry isn’t good enough,” McCammon said. “You didn’t actually think I’d give you a functional weapon, did you?”

  Peter glanced at the twitcher, wondering if McCammon’s claim could be a trick. Surprisingly, the guard captain extended his own stun weapon, butt first. “It is a good thing you managed to overpower me and stun me with my own twitcher. I’m sure I’ll be reprimanded, when all this is over.”

  Peter looked at the original weapon in his hand—had it really been deactivated?—and at the twitcher McCammon extended to him. The guard captain glanced at the fallen guard. “Don’t worry about him. He’s one of the loyal crowd. I’ll have him eating out of my hand as soon as he wakes up—provided you and the Queen actually succeed in escaping.”

  “What about the guards at the derelict?” Estarra asked. “And at Prince Daniel’s quarters?”

  “Those are not my men,” McCammon said. “They are Hansa servants, through and through. You’ll have to deal with them yourselves.”

  “We will,” Peter said.

  “Make it look good,” McCammon said, then threw himself on the King, yelling. Instinctively, Peter fired the new twitcher, and the captain slumped beside his comrade on the cool, hard floor.

  He and Estarra both looked at the two fallen guards. “Now I suppose we don’t have any choice,” Peter said.

  “We never did. Let’s go.” She picked up McCammon’s limp arms. “Help me drag these men inside where no one will see them.” Working together, the King, the Queen, and the compy pulled the unconscious guards across the slick stone floor into the royal apartments.

  Since OX knew the secret ways of the Whisper Palace better than any of them, the Teacher compy led the way. The Palace normally kept a quiet nighttime schedule with only a skeleton staff. Now, because of the alarms, many people ran through the dim halls. Fortunately, none of them paid attention to the King and Queen in their nondescript clothes.

  At a brisk pace, OX rushed them through back corridors and service halls to Prince Daniel’s plush apartments. As the compy hurried them toward the doorway, Peter saw that five royal guards remained in position to protect Daniel—more than had been assigned to watch over the King and Queen. Either Basil didn’t trust Daniel, or he didn’t dare risk his precious Prince.

  Edgy because of the alarms, two of the guards stepped forward. The King knew from his training that personal demeanor was as much a part of recognition as any costume. He strutted forward to address the guards. “What is this? Do you not salute when you see your King?” Estarra, obviously pregnant, completed the picture.

  The guards snapped to attention.

  OX walked briskly up to them. “We must see the Prince.”

  “The Prince is asleep, and we have orders not to let him be disturbed.”

  “This is an emergency, Sergeant,” Estarra said. “Your orders have changed.”

  “The hydrogues are attacking! We must speak to the Prince immediately.”

  Surprised and still suspicious, the guards looked at each other in confusio
n.

  Unable to wait for their compliance, Peter raised the twitcher and blasted the front two guards. He spun to the third man as the first pair melted to the floor, but the stunner only sputtered. An empty charge pack already!

  The remaining guards whipped out their sidearms. “That can’t be the King!”

  A thrumming shuddered through the air. “Oh yes it is,” said Estarra. She tucked a twitcher back into her loose pocket as the last three guards spasmed and fell to the floor. She looked at Peter, smiling. “I took the other guard’s weapon before we left him. I thought we might need an extra one.”

  He gave her a kiss that was not nearly long enough, then looked around. The corridors were empty. The doors to side rooms were closed. “Hurry! Daniel might have heard something. If he sees these guards, it will make everything more difficult.”

  “Prince Daniel is a heavy sleeper,” OX pointed out. “I doubt he has the curiosity to investigate a noise in the night. Even these alarms.”

  Several doors in the hall were locked, but OX used his compy strength to break the latch on a storeroom filled with unmarked boxes. The layer of dust implied that the room might well have remained unopened since the reign of King Jack. By the time they had pulled all five guards inside and closed the door, both Peter and Estarra were panting and sweating.

  “The lock no longer functions. We must be gone before the guards revive,” OX said.

  “Count on it,” Estarra said.

  Peter opened the door to the Prince’s chambers and strode in with the Queen and OX behind him. “Daniel! Time to wake up. No time to waste.”

  Tousle-headed and confused, the young man was already pulling a robe around himself. “Why did you disturb me? And who are—” He rubbed his bleary eyes and stifled a yawn. “You’re the King! What are you doing in my quarters? Where are my guards?”

  “This is an emergency, Daniel. They’re guarding the Chairman.”

  “What kind of emergency? Some sort of attack?”

  “Yes,” Estarra said as kindly as she could. “The hydrogues. You’ve got to come with us. Hurry!”

  “We can take you to the Chairman,” Peter said.

  “Do you know what time it is?” He blinked, then stared at Estarra and Peter again. “And why are you two dressed like that? You don’t look much like a King and Queen. It’s an embarrassment.”

  Peter gave the uncouth young man a meaningful look. “The Chairman’s in the middle of a crisis, and now he’s calling you to him. Haven’t you figured it out?”

  From the blank expression on Daniel’s face, obviously he hadn’t. Peter continued, exasperated. “The Chairman has ordered the Queen and me to retire. He promised us a new identity and a nice, safe villa where we can live a normal life, but only if we leave immediately. The Chairman plans to crown you right now. From tonight on, you’ll be King.” He smacked his hands together, and Daniel jumped at the loud noise, unable to believe what he had just heard. “So hurry up!”

  “The Chairman wants to crown me? Tonight? But I thought—”

  “You know how he is when he makes up his mind,” Estarra said. “He decided this would be the most dramatic time.”

  Grinning, the Prince hurriedly put on shoes. When he looked unsure about which clothes to wear, Peter gestured him to follow. “Don’t worry. There’s a full staff waiting to dress you. But you have to come with us right now.”

  Not knowing what else to do, and very frightened about the consequences of not obeying orders, Daniel followed them.

  119

  ADAR ZAN’NH

  The humans didn’t have a chance. Optimistic and overambitious, as always, they had hung all their hopes on one plan. They had gambled everything on their last stand at Earth, and they had believed Ildiran assurances. Now they were more vulnerable than ever.

  The hydrogues were watching.

  Though he’d never been overly fond of humans, Adar Zan’nh still felt soiled after the promises he had made, delivering the words exactly as the hydrogues, and his father, had told him to do. It did not seem right. Were the deep-core aliens truly monitoring even ship-to-ship transmissions? It seemed best to err on the side of caution. He particularly didn’t like the thought of hydrogues using his Solar Navy to attack the Hansa.

  Zan’nh looked stonily at the Ildirans in his command nucleus. They all knew the Mage-Imperator’s orders. He watched intricate tactical projections showing the hopelessly outnumbered EDF ships preparing to meet the oncoming wave of hydrogues. He was sitting on the crux of a moment that would always be remembered in the Saga of Seven Suns. Honor or victory . . . humans or Ildirans, survival or annihilation. The hydrogues had pushed them to this.

  Through the warliner’s speakers, General Lanyan yelled obscenities. He cursed the Adar by name, howling at the Ildiran commander for his betrayal. With a frown, Zan’nh gestured toward his communications officer. “Switch that off. I have no desire to hear it.” Abrupt silence fell on the warliner’s command nucleus.

  The Solar Navy crewmen aboard the flagship were clearly uncertain about what they had come here to do, but they obeyed their Adar’s commands. Zan’nh turned away from the inundated EDF ships, humanity’s last—and insufficient—defense. He wanted no distractions right now.

  Before Zan’nh could issue his fateful instructions, before he could trigger the cascade of events that would change—or end—history, his tactical officer yelped. “Adar, more incoming ships! All of them show the configuration of Earth Defense Forces vessels.”

  “How many?”

  “An overwhelming number! Twice as many as the humans had before.”

  “Is it a trick?” Zan’nh rushed to the screen and identified the sensor signatures of Juggernauts, Mantas, Thunderheads, and whatever other gunships the EDF had managed to assemble. “Did the humans deceive us? Are they not so wounded as we were led to believe?”

  New armed war vessels cruised in at full speed, directly toward the confrontation. How was this possible? Had the EDF held these war vessels in reserve to lure the hydrogues and the Ildirans? Zan’nh couldn’t believe that. Not even humans were capable of such deviousness.

  The Adar looked from side to side, studying the projections. How might this change what he was forced to do? He crossed his arms over his chest and decided that it changed nothing.

  Then a transmission shot across the communications band reserved for the Solar Navy. The image showed a black Klikiss robot standing at the helm of the lead Juggernaut. “We have come to assist you in the extermination of humans.”

  So, not EDF reinforcements after all.

  Zan’nh assessed his response, then gestured to his communications officer. “No reply. This complicates our job, but it is General Lanyan’s problem. Klikiss robots are not, and never have been, my concern. We will still do what we must.” He drew a deep breath; the air in the command nucleus smelled stale and metallic. “Yes, we will do what we must.”

  By now hydrogue warglobes had surrounded the two cohorts of Ildiran battleships, coming in close as they anticipated the Adar’s next move. The trapped and outnumbered EDF ships had no room to maneuver. Zan’nh felt cold inside, knowing there could be no turning back now. The hydrogues had sent far more warglobes than they had told the Mage-Imperator they would. Too many.

  He signaled his bridge crew. “Link with all warliners. Inform me when our ships are prepared.” The crewmembers took only moments to inform the Adar that everything was ready. Staring hard at the screen, Zan’nh narrowed his eyes. “Execute your instructions. Now!”

  Except for the flagship, the engines burst to life in all of the Ildiran vessels, ramping up in an extreme spike. Massive work crews had disengaged the safety governors before the two cohorts departed from Ildira, adding other modifications. Right now, with no concern for material tolerances, six hundred eighty-five individual warliners turned about in a single perfectly coordinated movement. Their engines built to greater and greater power.

  Before the hydrogues could react t
o the unexpected move, before they could take any sort of evasive action, all of the Ildiran warliners slashed outward. Each heavily armored battleship had a specified target, determined by calculator kithmen in the Adar’s command nucleus.

  Accelerating with full stardrive thrust, the warliners slammed directly into the diamond globes. The cascade of impacts happened with astonishing speed, and it was all perfectly choreographed. Shattering flashes erupted as hundreds upon hundreds of suicidal warliners obliterated the hydrogues.

  A few enemy warglobes lashed out with blue lightning bolts to defend themselves, but only five of the programmed warliners were destroyed prematurely; all of the others annihilated their targets. A chain of explosions blossomed, as if all the stars in a globular cluster had simultaneously gone supernova.

  With a powerful sense of finality and satisfaction, Zan’nh nodded at the forty-nine crewmen in his own command nucleus—the only crewmen aboard all six hundred and eighty-six warliners. The rest of the ships had been completely empty. Remote-controlled.

  With the assistance of the human engineers and the inexhaustible manpower of the Ildiran Empire, all those warliners had been reworked to accommodate automated systems. Zan’nh’s single flagship had guided every vessel in the two cohorts. In only a few moments, nearly seven hundred warglobes had been obliterated, and not a single Ildiran had lost his life. Yet.

  Zan’nh wondered what General Lanyan thought of him now.

  But the Mage-Imperator had never anticipated that Zan’nh would face so many enemy ships. Despite their coercion, the hydrogues had not trusted the Solar Navy to carry out its promised betrayal. Now that the battle was engaged, the hundreds of remaining hydrogues began to open fire on the EDF ships.

  Taken by surprise at the turnabout and unexpected firefight, the robot-hijacked EDF ships also launched their weapons indiscriminately. General Lanyan retaliated, blasting away at any attacker without taking time to aim.

  Zan’nh’s flagship sat in the eye of a deadly hurricane, the last surviving vessel of the Solar Navy at Earth. In his single overwhelming gambit, he had lost all of his warliners, and now he had nothing other than his ship’s standard defensive systems, which could do little or no damage to the hydrogues. The hellstorm of weapons fire sparkled and exploded all around him.