Saga of Shadows 1: The Dark Between the Stars (82 page)

The forty-nine warliners launched their second rounds even before the first had finished exploding. Sun bomb after sun bomb exploded against the occultation barrier, and at last the opaque wall fell apart into thousands of individual hexagons, which tumbled loose through space. The substantiated matter of the hexes dissolved back into nothingness, like shadows vanishing in the dawn.

As soon as the nightshade began to crumble, the faeros fireballs sensed that part of the burden had been lifted from them. They flew away from the broken barrier, but rather than flitting off into open space, they streaked toward the shadow cloud. The hex battleships were already diminished by the ruin of their nightshade.

As the flaming ellipsoids provoked them, the Shana Rei launched the first active weapons that Keah had seen. A mouth opened at the flat end of the hexagonal shafts to vomit out a gout of black static.

The manifested shadow struck and engulfed the first faeros, wrapping around the fireball like a shroud, coalescing and darkening. The black cocoon cracked and trembled. Dark orange lines shivered through the inky skin as the faeros struggled, but gradually it died like a candle flame starved of oxygen.

Another gout of black static engulfed a second faeros, but with each weapon launched, the Shana Rei hex ships seemed to diminish further, as if creating the darkness required immense effort and energy.

And then many more faeros swarmed toward them.

The fiery ellipsoids pursued the retreating hexagon ships into the shadow cloud. Streaking in, the fireballs intensified, as if about to go supernova, inspired by the Ildiran sun bombs.

Klikiss robot ships buzzed around before wheeling back to the safety of the shadow cloud. The dark nebula contracted like a folding fist, and the last of the robot battleships disappeared into it.

The Shana Rei retreated into the tear in space, slipping between dimensions, and the remnants of the shadow cloud swirled like smoke being sucked into an exhaust vent. Then they were gone from the Theron system.

The last remnants of the nightshade crumbled and vanished, ending the eclipse. The surviving faeros flitted about like sparks in an updraft before they shot away into space.

“Guess they didn’t want to stay for the victory party,” Keah muttered, then raised her voice. “But we sure as hell are going to have one!”

Nadd the green priest wept openly. Even the Ildirans aboard the Solar Navy ships were excited. The comm officer was already relaying a congratulatory message from King Peter and Queen Estarra.

General Keah wanted to make some kind of inspirational victorious comment on their victory, but it was unnecessary. Her crew kept yelling and cheering. She decided that she owed Adar Zan’nh another one of her historical ship models. In fact, after today he could take them all.

O
NE HUNDRED AND THIRTY
-
THREE

M
AGE
-I
MPERATOR
J
ORA
’
H

The Mijistra medical research center was staffed by thousands of doctors who trained among their greatest sages before being transferred to serve throughout the Empire.

Every member of their kith was predisposed to practice medicine. Some became proficient surgeons, while others were diagnosticians, pharmaceutical specialists, first-aid technicians, or skilled biochemists. Others performed intensive research, like those investigating Reynald’s disease. The medical kith members who would gather in the quarantine chamber today were those who specialized in autopsies.

Jora’h and Nira watched the proceedings through a rectangular observation window made of thick crystal. Gale’nh stood with them, silent and curious, insisting that he might notice a detail because of his own encounter with the Shana Rei. Open to any insights, the Mage-Imperator agreed.

The walls of the autopsy chamber were smooth and seamless, molded from a continuous shell of polymer metal. The diagnostic equipment and power sources were all self-contained.

“This is dangerous work, Liege,” Gale’nh pointed out. “What if the darkness is still within them, some residue of their possession?”

“We hope to learn the answer, Tal,” Jora’h said. “And we must take risks before we can learn.”

Nira’s expression was hard. “I want to know what turned those people into monsters.”

Gale’nh straightened. “I will submit myself to analysis if it would help . . . vivisection, if necessary. Prove that they are not still within me.”

“No!” Nira said.

“It will not be necessary,” Jora’h said in a tone that allowed no argument. “Let us learn from those we have lost.”

The analytical specialists entered the chamber through three layers of security hatches, each of which sealed behind them. The randomly selected bodies for inspection had already been brought in, and when the dissection team was in place, the chamber was locked and secured. Banks of ceiling blazers shone down upon every surface; the bright light could be increased a millionfold in an instant, should extreme sterilization precautions become necessary.

Inside the chamber, five cadavers lay on the tables, chosen from the participants in the mob massacre. Four members of the medical kith were ready to proceed, the lead autopsy specialist, Enda’f, and three assistants.

“We will extract every possible answer from these specimens, Liege,” said Enda’f. He tugged gloves onto his long-fingered hands.

One of the lesser medical kith mounted a set of magnifying goggles and a high-resolution projector onto the doctor’s head. A second doctor laid out an array of tools, as well as devices for performing automated chemical and spectral analyses and a cabinet for holding specimens.

The third medical kith prepared a body, a long-limbed female who lay naked on the table, her skin a dull gray-green. She was a member of the teacher kith; perhaps in death, her body would teach them important information.

“We have one hundred seven total specimens, Liege,” the autopsy specialist said. He did not even remark on how appalling the number was. “If we do not make any breakthroughs with these first cadavers, I promise you I will dissect and test every one until I have the answers you require.”

Nira held Jora’h’s hand. “We should have done this with the attackers that tried to kill me. If we’d learned the cause then, maybe we could have prevented this slaughter.”

Following that assassination attempt, Jora’h had ordered the tainted Ildirans incinerated in a solar furnace. He had been disturbed by what they represented, and afraid that even after death their corruption might linger. Although he understood the necessity now, he still felt gravely uneasy as he peered down at the otherwise healthy-looking bodies in the autopsy chamber. He felt a chill to know that a hundred more remained in storage.

How many times would this insidious violence happen again? Had there been other instances on splinter colonies that he was not aware of?

“You should have studied me as soon as I came back from the
Kolpraxa
,” Gale’nh said. “I do not believe that any of the poison remains inside me . . . but how could I know?”

“The worldforest is also fighting the Shana Rei on Theroc,” Nira said with a shiver. “How many places can they strike at once?”

The Solar Navy had rushed to help as soon as the worldtrees informed them of the nightshade there. “I hope Adar Zan’nh has been able to assist Theroc,” Jora’h said. That would be only a small consolation after what his ravening people did to the poor human settlers in Mijistra.

They peered through the thick window into the chamber below. Three autopsy assistants leaned close to the dead female cadaver, running their fingertips over her face, shoulders, breasts, ribs. Their deep scans covered the entire surface of her body.

Enda’f scrutinized the images projected on a holographic screen in front of him, not missing a detail. When the intense scans were complete, he shook his head. “No apparent external cause of death. No marks, no injuries. She just . . . died.”

Gale’nh said to Jora’h and Nira, “The taint that killed them—and drove them to kill—is
inside.
”

Using crystal knives to make seven access incisions, the assistants and the autopsy specialist cut open the female’s body, peeled away the skin, and studied the muscle fibers, the blood vessels, the body cavity. They removed the internal organs one at a time, frowning—first curious and then fearful.

The images zoomed closer. Among the wet slime and cold blood, a black substance oozed like oil, curling behind the heart, permeating the lungs and blood vessels.

“A peculiar contamination,” said Enda’f. “Like a black stain that ebbs and flows.” He poked with forceps, but could not obtain a sample. He used a syringe, but the cylinder came away filled with only normal-looking blood.

The assistants shifted the remaining internal organs as if to catch an escaping serpent, but they were also unsuccessful.

The autopsy specialist stood up from the cadaver, his gloves bloody. “I cannot locate the source, Liege, or where it resides now.” He made a notation, consulted with his assistants, then moved on to open the cranium.

Jora’h said, “It is in the
thism
itself.”

After the team removed the top of the female cadaver’s head to expose the brain, the autopsy specialist inserted probes to test the convoluted brain matter. “Ah, there’s the blackness—it has burrowed deep within the cerebral tissue.”

Gale’nh looked deeply uneasy. “It is still there. . . .”

Enda’f removed a long, thin knife from the tray. Turning it so that the light from the blazers gleamed on its crystalline edge, he cut into the brain.

Darkness exploded outward like an erupting geyser. Oily black static sprayed from the opening in the cadaver’s head. More of the tangible shadows lunged out of the chest cavity.

The assistants recoiled, scrambling away and knocking over the tray of instruments. The autopsy specialist caught the black eruption full in the face and chest. He screamed and writhed backward in agony.

It wasn’t a black liquid—just an oily intangible substance that filled the air, pouring from the dead body. It engulfed another assistant who collapsed on the smooth floor, thrashing and twitching. The remaining two assistants rushed toward the hatch, but the interlock seals had already snapped into place.

The blackness swarmed over them, suffocating them. The room continued to fill with a roiling black shadow cloud. Gale’nh howled, covered his face with one arm.

Nira let out an astonished cry, and Jora’h pulled her away from the observation window just as an exterior armor plate dropped into place, shielding them before the incineration blazers released an instant vaporization burst.

The light of a thousand suns swallowed the autopsy room. Even the hair-fine line of light that showed through the window covering was searing enough to blind him momentarily.

Jora’h could only hope that the emergency system had been swift and intense enough to cleanse that horrific darkness in time.

O
NE HUNDRED AND THIRTY
-
FOUR

S
HAREEN
F
ITZKELLUM

Even on the isolated, tide-swirled planet of Kuivahr, they heard about the Shana Rei attacking Theroc. The black stain vomiting out of Golgen’s clouds had only been one of the first encounters with the creatures of darkness. Shareen was not looking forward to another one.

When a Kett Shipping vessel arrived to take a load of kirae to Ildira (including one special bottle designated for the Mage-Imperator himself), the pilot told about the massive shadow cloud that had appeared at Theroc. As the crates of kirae were loaded aboard his ship, the pilot seemed uneasy about going to Ildira as well. “Odd reports coming out of there, too—mass hysteria, mob violence. The Ildirans say it’s also the work of the Shana Rei.”

Shareen remembered the quicksilver form of the hydrogue that had appeared on the Golgen skymine with blackness welling up inside its body, and how the shadow itself had flooded through the clouds of the gas giant. “Sounds like we were lucky to get away from Golgen when we did.”

“We lost a whole skymine, by damn! I wouldn’t call that lucky,” Del Kellum said. “Except I’m lucky that you’re all here with me now.”

Her father added, “I have no interest in a galactic war. Done that already.”

While Toff devoted his days to racing around in mudskimmers, Shareen and Howard worked in the distillery. They had already made improvements to increase production and shorten the fermentation time, but otherwise they didn’t have specific job assignments yet—this wasn’t exactly the skymine work-study routine Howard had signed up for.

Shareen enjoyed his company, though, and he didn’t get tired of her ideas. Howard turned to her with a serious expression. “You have some very thought-provoking concepts.”

“Then why are you so quiet after I tell you about them? You don’t say that much.”

“Because I’m thinking about them. That’s what
thought-provoking
means.”

They sat together on the outside upper deck under the cloudy skies, dangling their legs several stories above the muddy water. Del came out to join them, letting Marius Denva and other line supervisors handle the operations.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

“Are we that predictable?” Shareen asked.

“No, I just looked everywhere else.” Del made a great effort easing himself down and adjusting his legs precariously close to the edge, but he seemed comfortable enough. He gazed out toward the horizon in silence, which was unusual for him. Shareen didn’t break the spell, and all three of them just sat thinking, listening.

Del finally spoke up. “I’ve seen enough of the Spiral Arm, operated facilities on half a dozen planets, served as Speaker for the Roamer clans. There’s so much out there . . . but for me, this distillery is just enough. There was a time when
my
Shareen and I had plans to operate skymines on different gas giants. We were going to invest in a luxury spaceliner that would take tourists to the most amazing places—and we’d charge them through the nose each step of the way. She and I even talked about what we’d do when we retired together.”