Alien Honor (A Fenris Novel)
Read Alien Honor (A Fenris Novel) Online
Authors: Vaughn Heppner
Also by Vaughn Heppner
Fenris series:
Alien Honor
Doom Star series:
Star Soldier
Bio-Weapon
Battle Pod
Cyborg Assault
Planet Wrecker
Star Fortress
Invasion America series:
Invasion: Alaska
Invasion: California
Invasion: Colorado
Ark Chronicles:
People of the Ark
People of the Flood
People of Babel
People of the Tower
Lost Civilizations series:
Giants
Leviathan
Tree of Life
Gog
Behemoth
The Lod Saga
The Oracle of Gog
(novella)
Other novels:
Accelerated
I, Weapon
Strontium-90
Dark Crusade
Assassin of the Damned
The Dragon Horn
Elves and Dragons
The Dragon of Carthage
The Great Pagan Army
The Sword of Carthage
The Rogue Knight
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright © 2013 by Vaughn Heppner
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by 47North, Seattle
ISBN-13: 9781477808825
ISBN-10: 1477808825
Library of Congress Number: 2013940225
Cover illustration: Maciej Rebisz
To John and Margret Heppner, my father and mother, the greatest parents in the world.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
FENRIS SYSTEM
(230 LIGHT YEARS FROM EARTH)
A boy and old man crawled over sharp rocks the color of lead.
They were near the top of a towering mountain in the greatest range of an Earth-like planet. Ice lay in patches around them, mixed with purple lichen. A freezing wind shrieked, tearing at the boy’s fur jacket and buffeting his pale features. He was gaunt and white-skinned and had fierce, sky-colored eyes.
At times, the wind threatened to lift him off the rocks and hurl him like a doll onto jagged boulders a thousand feet below. He clung to stony protrusions then, with his teeth clenched like a predator gripping a choice piece of meat. He wanted to see the Valley of the Demons and the Mountain that was a Machine. Both were on the other side of the peak.
Beside him, the old man panted, his foggy breath blown away like stray thoughts. He had dark, leathery skin. He was the clan seeker, the ancient man of wisdom. Twice, as the wind shrieked madly, his entire body lifted so no part of him touched the mountain.
He should have flown in the air to land cruelly thousands of feet below. Instead, his dark eyes shone with a metallic color and sweat appeared on his face. He stopped lifting and remained frozen for an infinitesimal amount of time. Then he sank back onto the stone, as if in some fashion he had gained weight or pulled himself down.
The boy witnessed this each time. He also felt the seeker’s inner strength. It was like standing too close to a bonfire, and it singed his mind. Oh, but he marveled at the seeker’s power. Why didn’t the old man lead the clan? Then they could raid the demons in the valley and make their blood run red on the stones.
“It’s more dangerous at the top,” the seeker shouted, his words coming in wind-whipped fragments.
The boy nodded, and he eased upward another foot. His hands ached from gripping rocks so tightly. Fear like a snake writhed through him, but he wanted to see, had begged many weeks for this chance. Now that he was so close, he wasn’t going to turn around and slink back to the others in defeat.
He looked up. The great moon with its many bands of color dwarfed the sun. The moon filled half the sky. It seemed so near that he felt he could reach out and scratch its surface.
“Don’t be distracted!” the seeker shouted.
The boy—Klane—barely heard the admonishment in time. He pressed his frail body against stone and the wind howled across him, trying to tear him away. He endured as the invisible force plucked at him, seeking to gain a purchase. It was just like wrestling in camp against stronger, bigger boys. But none of the others, despite their strength, had ever been up here. They always sneered at him for his smooth skin, for his weakness, but he was braver than any four of them. This proved it.
As the wind lessened, Klane dragged himself upward another foot, and then another. He reached the top of the mountain at the same time as the seeker.
Klane glanced at the smiling old face. Then he looked over the topmost rock. The Valley of the Demons spread out before him, a glorious wonder. He’d never envisioned anything like this. The valley was massive, hundreds of miles long so it faded into the horizon. There were two towering mountain ranges on either side of the vale. The mountains loomed miles above the lowest point of the valley. Down in the distant bottom Klane could see greenery and a snaking river.
“The air is much thicker down there,” the seeker shouted in his ear. Klane could smell the old man’s onion breath.
Then Klane spied the Mountain that was a Machine. The seeker had described it before, many times, but he’d never expected it would be like this. The mountain didn’t seem natural but looked like a titanic box. The box or building was many miles long. It had huge, smooth tubes sticking out of it. White vapors like clouds billowed from the tubes or stacks. Beside the Great Machine was the last of an iceberg. Ropy vines snaked from the machine onto the ice. They must be huge ropes for Klane to see them from so far away.
“There!” the seeker shouted. “Now you should look up. You will see a thing to boggle your senses.”
Klane squinted upward into the heavens. His chest constricted and his breath caught in his throat. From the old man’s descriptions before, he saw… he saw. They were long tongues of fire, flames. That meant rockets came down from space. Yes, yes, he remembered his lessons. These rockets must be high up in the atmosphere. Thunder began to boom. The noise grew louder and louder until it shook his bones. Klane kept staring at the rockets. He could see them now, mighty vessels of metal belching tongues of fire. Between the various rockets swayed a great iceberg. The rockets lowered the ice toward the Machine Mountain.
“This is a miracle!” Klane shouted.
“No. It is high technology. The iceberg was once an asteroid snatched from New Saturn’s rings and flown through the void to our planet.”
Klane stared at the seeker who knew so much. The old man used words of High Speech, the words of magic and ancient wisdom.
“The demons lower the ice from space!” the seeker shouted. “They use the ice to fuel the Great Machine.”
“What does the machine do?”
“There are many such machines on our world, Klane. The demons
terraform
the planet to suit their evil nature. They like the thicker atmosphere in the valley. That is why they stay down there and why they leave us alone here in the uplands.”
“What do the demons look like?” Klane shouted.
The seeker studied him, the dark eyes seemingly boring into Klane’s soul. “One day, you will tell me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I would be amazed if you did.”
Frowning, Klane asked, “Why do you always speak in riddles?”
The old man smiled. He was missing teeth. “After we return to camp, you will begin to fashion your first junction-stone.”
Klane stared at the Mountain that was a Machine. He wanted a junction-stone, but he’d doubted now for months that he could ever fashion one. The seeker had told him several weeks ago that seeing the Valley of the Demons would help him make one. Now that he saw all this…
“Let us go to the Mountain that was a Machine,” Klane pleaded. He wanted to go inside it and see the ancient marvels.
“Why do you wish this?” the seeker asked. “Tell me truly.”
Klane debated what he should say. “I would know more about this terraforming.”
“No! Pray that you never do know, Klane.”
“Why do you say this? I don’t understand.”
The seeker studied him, finally saying, “Greater knowledge only brings greater sorrow.”
Klane’s frown deepened. “Why do you always hound me then to learn more and to do it faster?”
The seeker turned away, for once at a loss for words.
Klane watched the rockets land near the Great Machine. The tongues of fire blew dust and grit in billowing clouds. The roar increased and Klane clamped his hands over his ears. Finally, with a thunderous sound that shook the mountain, the rockets landed the iceberg, the ice that once was an asteroid.
Oh, the demons wielded great power indeed. They were worthy of fear. Fear…
Klane snarled. He was tired of being scared all the time, of enduring the endless beatings from the bigger boys. If he had a junction-stone to wield…
“Why am I different from the others?” Klane shouted.
“It is time to go.”
As the old man turned away, Klane grabbed one of the seeker’s frail wrists.
“Why am I different?” he repeated. “You know, don’t you?”
The seeker turned back to study him. With a deft twist, the old man freed his stick-like wrist. Then he pointed up at the monstrous, banded moon. “You came down from there, Klane. The demons brought you as they brought the iceberg. They gave you to me.”
Moisture fled from Klane’s mouth. The boys mocked him about his difference. But he’d never believed it was this bad. Was he a demon then? Was he one of their imps?
“Why would the demons do such a thing?” Klane shouted.
“Yes. That is what I would like to know. It is a penetrating question.” After a moment, the old man shook his head, and he began to crawl backward down the mountain.
