Hellhole Inferno (7 page)

Sophie made no secret that she resented the POWs and what they represented. She merely replied, “If our hospitality bothers you, maybe you shouldn't have come to our lovely planet in the first place. I believe you intended to raze all of our colony settlements to the ground?” She was particularly brittle around Redcom Hallholme—with good reason, since his treachery had resulted in the death of her son and his girlfriend. “You haven't even experienced the razor rain yet, or the spawning of cannibal beetles.”

In times of tension, Bolton was the one who could speak in a reasonable tone, trying to make the best of the situation. “Nevertheless,” he pointed out, “we did surrender under promises from General Adolphus that we would be taken care of. Leaving us vulnerable to known meteorological hazards is not keeping us safe.”

“You of all people, Major Crais, shouldn't quibble about promises made or kept.” Sophie drew a breath, calmed herself with a visible effort, and responded in a lawyerly tone. “When the Army of the Constellation went to war against us, all your soldiers assumed the risk of unknown dangers. When we accepted your surrender, we admittedly assumed certain responsibilities for your welfare. We are doing our best to accommodate you in a humane manner, but don't be so foolish as to ask that we build a fully secure prison complex to accommodate thousands. General Adolphus can't be expected to provide more protection for enemy troops than he does for his own people, or for himself. Welcome to Hellhole—welcome to reality.”

Her remarks had elicited a murmur of discontent from the officers, but the more Bolton thought about it, the more he felt she was right. Under the circumstances, the captors seemed to be doing what they could.

With a sigh, Sophie added, “Your men and women have all the incentive they should need to do the work. When this large building is finished, it will serve as a solid emergency structure in the event of a storm. You'll have to crowd inside during any crisis, but you should be safe enough.”

Under a hurry-up construction schedule, only some of the windows had armored glass in them; the others were boarded up or covered with plastic film while the glass was manufactured. The communal building was sturdy, but Bolton was worried that the more permanence the camp had, the less likely it would be that the prisoners were freed anytime soon.

Hellhole was cut off from the Crown Jewels, and though Bolton knew that the Diadem, Lord Riomini, and Commodore Hallholme would be searching for a new avenue of attack, he did not hold out hope for imminent rescue. And Keana Duchenet—who was still his wife, but no longer entirely human—had not offered a solution either. Bolton had joined this mission hoping to rescue her, wanting to protect her. That had not turned out as planned.…

Now, as Bolton stood outside the communal building, he heard machine sounds. Through the open doorway he saw a POW construction crew at work inside the central hall, erecting and reinforcing a stage from which Redcom Hallholme could address large crowds. The Redcom had quietly summoned Bolton and several top officers to a secret meeting that would be held amid the construction noise, where their words would not be overheard.

Bolton sat outside in the shade of an overhang while he waited for the others. A future garden had been staked out on his left, but the terrestrial vegetables and even a clump of ornamental flowers were not thriving. An unusual type of native blue ground cover had been planted around the communal tents, and at least it was doing well. Leaning down, he plucked one of the tiny succulent leaves and squeezed moisture out of it.

With a wistful sigh, he remembered that back on Sonjeera, his wife had dabbled with gardening, manipulating indoor plants in their mansion like an orchestra conductor directing a performance—while their servants did the actual dirty work, as well as discreetly replacing any flowers that died, so that Keana believed in the prowess of her green thumb.

Back then, Keana had been bored and oblivious, married to him due to an alliance of noble families rather than romance, although Bolton had cared deeply for her, and still felt that way. In those days, she never would have soiled her hands. But Keana had changed a great deal since then, and so had Bolton. So had the entire Constellation.

Naïve and ill-prepared, Keana had rushed out here to rescue Cristoph de Carre, the son of her disgraced lover, but she had not known what she was doing. Hellhole had swallowed her up and changed her, joining her with an alien personality. Bolton had lost her long before that, but he had always hoped to get her back. Now, there seemed little chance of that.

Diadem Michella, who seemed irrationally paranoid about alien contamination, had written off her own daughter, but Bolton would never give up on Keana. He still loved her, and had promised to protect her. When she went missing, he had insisted on joining Redcom Hallholme's strike force for the express purpose of trying to rescue her. Instead, he and all the Constellation soldiers were trapped in this fenced compound.

He hadn't seen Keana in days. He wished she would visit him here in the camp more often. She had come twice since his capture, and he knew she still had feelings for him, but Keana was changed and overwhelmed with other concerns … undoubtedly alien concerns. He wished his life could go back to normal, but that would never happen now.

As if summoned by Bolton's thoughts, one of the strange Xayans entered the camp, accompanied by three human figures who glided forward, as if in a trance. Bolton looked up, saw the other human prisoners shy away from the alien creature's long pale body, the strange flat face, the quivering feelers that extended from the smooth forehead. Bolton identified the creature as the one called Encix. The few alien survivors seemed intently interested in the pool of prisoners inside the camp. Encix had repeatedly tried to convince them to immerse themselves in the slickwater pools as an offer of freedom—an offer that no one had accepted. Yet.

But he was much more intrigued to see the accompanying humans—converts who had immersed themselves in slickwater, acquiring alien lives. They were changed, different, intimidating. And one of them standing next to Encix was Keana.

His heart leaped and he stepped forward even while other prisoners shied away. “Keana!” She looked at him as the alien moved forward on a long caterpillar body. Her eyes were distant, but he could still see his wife there, still knew she could interact as herself even though her mind was in a kind of symbiosis with an alien presence.

A faint smile crossed her face. “Bolton, we are hoping to convince you—and all these other prisoners—to join us. To achieve your freedom. If you come to the slickwater, there would no longer be any need for you to stay in this camp.”

His chest went cold. “I … can't do that.”

Emerging from the main command tent several rows away, Redcom Escobar Hallholme marched in front of two other junior officers, Lt. Seyn Vingh and BluCap Agok Yimidi. The Redcom flinched noticeably when he saw the Xayan, clearly wishing he could avoid contact, but Bolton realized that Encix was coming toward the central building with a purpose.

The Redcom looked angry. “You are not welcome here, and none of my men and women will let themselves be possessed by aliens. You're wasting your time.”

Encix said, “That is because you don't understand the wondrous opportunities … and you don't understand the urgency.”

Escobar and the two other officers joined Bolton outside the meeting hall, facing the alien and the shadow-Xayans accompanying her. Anxious Constellation soldiers turned their attention to Encix as she proceeded along the dusty thoroughfare and stopped in front of the officers. Keana stood beside the alien, like an equal, but she let Encix speak. “Who will leave this camp and become one of us?”

“General Adolphus made reassurances,” Escobar said. “We will not be harmed. We will not be forced.”

“Of course not,” Keana said. “No one is to be coerced. We hoped you would at least consider?”

Bolton's heart ached, wanting to be with her, but he couldn't leave his comrades, nor did he want to lose himself … certainly not like this.

“You can go now,” Escobar said. “You have no place here.”

They regarded one another in silence, and then the alien's voice thrummed through a facial membrane. “You are the leaders of this group of humans. You are the ones I must convince, so that your faction assists us. This planet is threatened. You must see reason.”

Keana added, “Encix is telling the truth. Your people have the opportunity to save this planet and save the Xayan race.”

Encix said, “If your faction would accept the slickwater and reawaken more of us, we would have sufficient numbers to reach
ala'ru
.”

“Why should we care about your strange race?” Escobar said. “You are allied with our enemy, so you are our enemy.”

“The Ro-Xayans are the only significant enemy,” the alien said. “The squabbles of your factions will be irrelevant if the Ro-Xayans destroy this world.”

“You have already made the offer. No one is interested. No one will
ever be
interested,” Bolton said. “I'm sorry, Keana.”

Escobar was adamant, though Bolton could sense his uneasiness. “You can't force us. We are prisoners of war.”

Encix seemed baffled, and the shadow-Xayans looked at the prisoners pityingly. “But you could become enlightened, you would receive remarkable powers of telemancy, and you would understand far more than you do now. Merge with us in a unique synchronicity of races.” The Xayan's antennae quivered. “Why do you resist?”

“Because we are
human
,” Escobar insisted. “And we have no interest in giving that up.”

The alien turned to Bolton, as if she knew exactly who he was. “Keana-Uroa is quite satisfied with her own transition. Perhaps she can convince you.”

Keana faced Bolton and said, “I can't.”

Encix raised her voice, so that all the bystanders could hear as well. “Any prisoner who becomes a shadow-Xayan will be freed. You will join us. You will have abilities and memories that you can only begin to imagine. You have all witnessed the power of our telemancy, how we defeated and drove away your powerful attack fleet.”

Escobar lifted his chin. “My father will be back to avenge that defeat.”

“If your offer is so great,” Bolton added, “why hasn't General Adolphus become a shadow-Xayan? Or Sophie Vence?”

“That is their choice for now. Eventually, they will reconsider.”

Glowering, Escobar took a step closer to the alien, as if it required all his courage to approach her. “There is nothing you could say to make us join you. None of my soldiers want any part of you. Leave us in peace.”

Encix remained silent, quivering and unreadable. Finally, she added, “You may reconsider when the Ro-Xayans come. By then, I hope it is not too late. We must achieve
ala'ru
at all costs.”

The officer prisoners stood together, firm; the other POWs continued to whisper among themselves. Bolton said to Keana, “You should go now. You have made your case. If we change our minds, we'll let you know.” He drew a breath, added, “Sorry.”

The alien made a sound of displeasure and retreated from the camp. As she glided down the path, the prisoners moved aside, giving her free passage toward the fenced gate. Keana and the other converts went with her. When Keana looked over her shoulder at him he saw a glimpse of the deep sadness and disappointment she carried. Then they left through the guarded gates.

Even after the entourage was gone, with Keana out of sight, Bolton still felt his pulse racing. Escobar was sweating, and the other two officers looked as if their knees might buckle. “That alien will not give up so easily,” Vingh said. “I don't think she'll take no for an answer.”

“She will be back and try harder to coerce us,” said Yimidi.

The Redcom narrowed his gaze and said in a hard, low voice, “That only confirms what I was already thinking. We can't just cower here and wait for my father. We need to break out of this camp—it is a prisoner's duty to escape.”

“But where would we go?” asked Vingh.

He whispered with greater urgency, “Away from here, away from the alien pools. We could make our way overland to Michella Town, steal a ship at the spaceport, get out to one of the other DZ worlds.”

Bolton was uneasy. “We're getting ahead of ourselves. We don't have supplies, don't have charts or shelter, don't have weapons or tools—”

Yimidi picked up on the idea. “This camp isn't secure. It wouldn't be hard to steal some supplies and get a small group through the fences. Once we're out in the open, we could make good time. Most of this planet is an uninhabited wasteland.”

Excitedly, Escobar said, “If even a few of us can find a way back to the Crown Jewels, we'll let them know what's going on here. My father can't prepare his attack without information. It's our duty. We have to do our part.”

Trying to be more realistic, Bolton said, “You're forgetting how dangerous the landscape is around here. This is Hellhole! We don't know the terrain, or the hazards that we will face.”

Escobar silenced him with a glare. “We are trained soldiers in the Army of the Constellation. How about you two? This is not an order. It is a time for volunteers.”

Bolton didn't think it was a wise plan, but he could see the Redcom wouldn't change his mind. The idea had obviously taken hold with Yimidi and Vingh. He sighed in resignation. “If you choose to make this attempt, I will go with you.” Bolton felt obligated to stay with his commanding officer. “But the fewer of us, the better. A small group has less chance of being seen, and we can be more nimble.”

 

9

Though Sophie maintained separate living quarters of her own, she stayed with Tiber Adolphus at Elba whenever she had the chance. They were lovers and partners, though the ongoing crisis did not permit them to see each other as much as they would like.