Return - Book III of the Five Worlds Trilogy (12 page)

“The ‘general situation’?” The High Leader laughed, which threw more oil down from above. “Let me worry about the ‘general situation,’ Pynthas. Your only worry is giving me the report you were summoned to give.”

“Of course, High Leader!”

“What of Venus—has the girl been found?”

“No, High Leader; but the second contingent of Martian Marines you ordered sent has arrived there. Unlike the first, I’m told they expect quick success.”

“The commander of that first contingent has been … disposed of?”

“Of course, High Leader. As you so wished. Also, the two further plasma soldier satellites you ordered returned to Venus have been placed into orbit and activated. Frolich City is now covered by a total of four plasma soldier generators.”

“Good. Getting rid of Carter Frolich himself was the smartest thing I’ve done in months. You’re sure there were no … complications on that end?”

“No, High Leader. As you know, there was some evidence found that Frolich had planned to destroy Venus’s feeder stations, but the beginnings of his sabotage were discovered and dismantled.”

“Once a member of the Guild of Terraformers, always a member,” Prime Cornelian remarked. “I knew that one day Frolich’s insanity would drive him back into the embrace of dead Targon Ramir. Frolich was a fool and didn’t even know it.” The High Leader’s stare sharpened down on Pynthas. “And Pluto and the Moon Colonies?”

Pynthas swallowed hard. “Pluto has of course privately revoked its coerced treaty with the pirate Shatz Abel, on behalf of Earth.”

“That is as I wish. My plans call for the planet to keep up appearances of its new allegiance to Earth. I’m sure that briefly deactivating SunOne and giving them a taste of cold dark helped cement their allegiance to me.”

“Of course, High Leader.”

“And the Moon Colonies?”

“The most strategic have remained loyal. Callisto and two of the smaller moons of Uranus claim allegiance to Earth.”

“We’ll deal with them at our leisure. They’ll be sorry they ever declared. And Earth?”

“As you know, High Leader, Dalin Shar has established a provisional capital in Athens, in what used to be known as Greece. It is just outside the Lost Lands—”

“Yes, yes. Update me on this ‘pronouncement’ of Shar’s.”

“He claims that construction on a feeder tube station has already begun five hundred miles away from Athens, in the Lost Lands, and that another will be started soon in the Caucasus Mountains. He claims that this is only the beginning of the ‘second birth of Earth,’ and has even revoked the recent treaty with Pluto. The Moon Colonies he proposes to discuss at the appropriate time.”

“Second birth, indeed. Are these feeder tube stations real?”

“From all indications they are, High Leader.”

“It is a clever, if idiotic, strategy. He is, in fact, ceding Venus to me without a fight, thinking that I will leave him be. But he will never leave me be, as long as I have Tabrel Kris. We both know that Pluto, and the Moon Colonies, mean nothing, no matter which way they turn. He must think me simpleminded. Have the population centers of this new Earth of his been pinpointed?”

“With accuracy, High Leader.”

“Good. Then we will proceed with our little surprise for Dalin Shar. Order it immediately.”

“Yes, High Leader.”

Turning to go as another splatter of oil from above nearly struck him, Pynthas Rei groaned inwardly as the High Leader called for him to remain.

“Two things more, Pynthas.”

“Y-yes, High Leader?”

“Something bothers me, and I cannot put my finger on it. I have had such feelings before, but since I can talk to no one, I talk to you, since you are no one.”

“Of c-c-course, High Leader!”

“Have I missed anything, Pynthas? Is there anything I’ve overlooked?”

Knowing that the question was not one he was expected to answer, and unaccustomed to being spoken to with even a hint of intimacy by Prime Cornelian or anyone else, Pynthas Rei merely stood mutely shivering.

“Is there something out there that can harm my plans, that I have absolutely no cognizance of?”

Still Pynthas Rei stood mute.

The High Leader swiveled his head down toward the toady. “Hmmm?”

“I—I—I don’t kn-know, High Leader!”

“Of course you don’t! If I don’t, how could you or anyone else?” Cornelian rotated his head away, composed himself somewhat, and remarked, “One more question, Pynthas. Has Sam-Sei remained … active?”

“Night and day, High Leader. He has been working only on your project, as he was instructed four weeks ago.”

“The Red Police haven’t impeded him, have they?”

“They merely observe, High Leader, as you so ordered. The Machine Master curses them, but continues to work.”

“Good. You may go.” Clinging to the ceiling, the High Leader flexed all six limbs in succession, sending a rain of oil droplets down around the toady.

Without hesitation, Pynthas Rei scampered from the room, whimpering.

O
nce he was safely out of the chamber and in the hallway, Pynthas Rei lay his trembling body back against the door.

What to do?
he thought.
What to do?

On his mind was the one thing that he dared not bring up to the High Leader. If he had, he was sure it would have brought Cornelian dropping down on him from the ceiling like a horrid, enraged spider. And yet, the prospect of his own demise in this manner was even exceeded by what he had seen that morning with his own eyes, while checking on the Red Police assigned to guard the Machine Master in his underground chambers.

Pynthas Rei continued to quiver, oblivious to the glaze of slick viscous oil that covered him from head to foot.

What to do?

Surely the High Leader was aware of what Pynthas Rei had witnessed; surely he understood what this meant. When the High Leader spoke of the “general situation,” surely he was aware of what Pynthas had seen:

For there, beside the new six-legged metallic carcass that the Machine Master worked so diligently on, had been the abandoned, absolutely empty shell of the machine that was supposed to save Mars: the huge Irregulator which even now was being heralded night and day, on every Screen on Mars, as the planet’s sole deliverance from the three monstrous, tailed visitors which had this morning reappeared after their journey around the Sun—and now were bright even in the day: hurtling bearded missiles aimed at Pynthas’s quaking heart, and the heart of Mars.

Chapter 16

D
alin wanted to dismiss the first report as hysteria.

“A Martian concussion device has fallen on the feeder station construction site in the Caucasus Mountains, Sire.”

On the second floor of the battered building that served as the provisional capital’s new communications center, Dalin studied the young man giving him the Screen message. He was no more than fifteen—a smooth-faced boy.

The age Dalin had been when this business had started four years ago.

He looked so young—and Dalin suddenly felt so old.

“Are you sure of it?” Dalin asked.

The boy studied his Screen. “The message is from Shatz Abel, Sire.”

Dalin’s spirits lifted at hearing the pirate’s name, even as they sunk at hearing the news. “Let me speak to him.”

“Of course, Sire.”

The boy activated a few switches, and the face of Shatz Abel suddenly filled the screen.

“Sire!” the pirate shouted; there seemed to be a commotion in the shuttle transport’s cabin behind him and Shatz Abel wore a look of mixed anger and despair. “It was the stinking Plutonians! Their trade ship in orbit had a Martian concussion device on board! We’re chasing ’em now, but I’m afraid they dropped another device before breaking orbit—it’s probably heading for the other feeder station.”

“Is there anything we can do to stop it?”

“It’s too late, Sire. We’ve contacted the station, and they’re trying to get out by now, but we all know they’ll be flattened to atoms in a few minutes.”

“Damnation.”

“Dalin, you know Cornelian won’t stop there, don’t you?”

Almost wearily, Dalin answered, “Yes.”

“But we may have some time. The curious thing is; he hasn’t moved any plasma soldier generators into orbit around Earth. Even with his cloaking devices it would take him a bit of time to get them active. We may have a window of time to get off planet. And with the help of the cloaking device I liberated from his colony garrison on Europa …” The pirate grinned.

Dalin nodded. “That will no doubt help. But I’ll wager Cornelian is counting on flushing us off Earth and then cutting us apart as we try for Venus.”

“There’s nothing to stop us at the moment. All my intelligence tells me that no Martian fleet has embarked or is ready to embark; once again, even with cloaking devices it would take them time to get into position. I say we have to go now.”

“We have adequate ships safely camouflaged, just as you counseled.”

“I knew Cornelian would try something like this! It’s too bad he wasn’t more reasonable, boy. I hate to say it, but I had the feeling all along that he wouldn’t let you go ahead with your plans for Earth.”

“In my gut, I knew it, too. But I had to try.”

“He wants it all,” Shatz Abel spat. “He wants it all and he’s going to try for it all. But we’ll stop him at Venus, if I have to do it myself.”

“You won’t be alone, Shatz. Maybe later, when this is all over, we can come back to Earth and try to bring it alive again.”

“It’s a noble sentiment, Sire. But there’s work to be done now.”

“Yes.”

On the Screen, there was sudden frantic activity behind Shatz Abel; the remarkably scarred face of Yar Pent hove into view as he whispered something fiercely to the pirate.

“No!” Shatz Abel shouted. He looked hard into the Screen and shouted, “Sire, you’ve got to get off planet now!”

“What’s wrong?”

“That second Plutonian device wasn’t a concussion bomb! It was a Gas Emitter!”

For a moment Dalin was startled into incomprehension. “Gas … ?”

“It’s diffusing Puppet Death virus in low orbit!”

Still reeling from the revelation, Dalin sputtered, “But viral warfare was outlawed a hundred years ago! No one would dare unleash the Puppet Death again!”

More frightening than the revelation was the vision before him of huge Shatz Abel nearly reduced to tears. “Damn him, he’s done it! Dalin, there’s nothing we can do! You know that as well as I—within an hour that damned disease will be scattered to the four corners of the planet! And there’s nothing we can do!”

In awe at the consequences of the pirate’s words, King Shar whispered with certainty, “There isn’t even time to get the children off world.”

Now tears were streaming down Shatz Abel’s face. “There’s no time to save anyone!” In a rage, he smashed something before him, and the Screen picture went momentarily dead before returning.

Shatz Abel brought his face close to the Screen. His eyes were hard within his tears. “Listen to me, boy,” he hissed. “I promise with the last ounce of my strength that I’ll avenge this. For you, and for all of them. For Earth.”

Standing straight, Dalin said, “I must go.” He locked stares with Shatz Abel. “Good-bye.”

“Good-bye,” the pirate said. “I’m proud to have known you, Dalin Shar.” Then, unable to control his rage and frustration any longer, he screamed, “Damn them all, I’ll make them pay!” And clenching his fist again, he brought it down, and the Screen went blank.

Dalin turned to see the boy who had been manning the Screen staring at him wide-eyed, pale as a ghost. “It’s … true?”

The king put a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder and urged him to sit back down at his console. “Just do your job,” Dalin said gently. “Just do what’s expected of you.”

“Y-yes, Sire,” the boy said, gulping, and the king squeezed the boy’s shoulder before releasing him.

Dalin walked to the communication center’s window; part of the sill was missing and the casing was cracked, but it had been opened to make use of the warmth of the day and gave a magnificent view. In the distance was the ancient Acropolis, which had survived centuries of war and change; the sky was bright blue and the faint scent of wild olives dappled the warm air. There were fields to the north, a forest leading back to the Grecian Lost Lands to the west; in the far distance, the ruins of another ancient structure sat like a wise old god on a misted hill.

It would have worked
, Dalin thought.
We could have brought it all back. Our children would have seen it in full flower, and their children would have held it all in their hands. If fate had been kind, I would have seen it begin with Tabrel Kris at my side.

For the briefest moment, the scent of olives turned to the scent of roses, and he was transported back to a young man’s garden where a Martian girl gave him his first true love kiss. For the briefest moment he was there again, on that warm day, at the most perfect and knowing instant of his life, looking into those depth-less almond eyes. She had been as startled as he by the realization of what had suddenly happened between them. As startled and as sure.

He came back to the present, the faint odor of ripening olives, and looked up into the bright blue sky, salted with death that would fall at any moment—

“Why does it have to end this way?” he screamed out of the window, unable to control himself. “There isn’t even time to tell them!”

And then the scream filled his head, along with a white-hot light, and he fell to the floor unconscious.

E
rik’s voice accompanied his awakening.

“Sire! Quickly, you must wake up!”

He awoke, and knew instantly that something was different. “How long—”

“You collapsed almost an hour ago!”

“But we should all be dying by now … .”

 “We have to hurry!” Erik said, helping him to his feet. “The last of the transports are loading. Shatz Abel is waiting for us in orbit—”

“I don’t understand … about it. A kind of shield, a patch, formed over our people and is holding the Puppet Death away from the surface. I don’t know how, but we’ve been given a chance to get away. We have to leave now!”