Son of Orlan (The Chronicles of Kin Roland Book 2) (15 page)

“I don’t know why you should do that. Other people are
always happy to punish those weaker than themselves.”

“Do you think I’m weak?”

William considered the question, sensing a trick. “I suppose
you must be, or you would free yourself.”

“Smart boy, but these are my chains. Not so easy to break.”

“You shouldn’t have chained yourself.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Look into my eyes.”

William was curious. No one had spoken to him for a long
time, other than to take his food or his money or his clothing. He moved closer
and stared into eyes as infinite as the universe.

“He was old, Kin. Older than anything I’ve ever imagined.”

Kin listened.

“
He called me William
. I brought him food and wine,
though he always asked for water. Clean water wasn’t so easy to find in the
Box.”

Kin listened as the Reaper boy described stealing wine only
to find he couldn’t carry large jugs down the ladders in the sewer system. So
he had to steal a bag with straps. Then he had to steal rope. By the time he
returned to the old man’s prison, he feared his new friend would be dead.

“Wake up,” William said as he approached with the water.

“I was resting my eyes.”

“I brought you something to eat.”

“Yes, boy, that is kind. Shall I tell you a story?”

Night after night, William returned. He brought stolen tools
to cut the chains, but was afraid the man would leave him once free. So he
listened to stories. Horrible tales of worlds burning and armies slaughtering
each other.

“Are you a shapeshifter?”

William nodded.

“One of my children was part shapeshifter. It caused a
terrible scandal.”

“Shapeshifters aren’t bad.”

“No, boy, they are not. You bring me food and wine, though
requested only want water.”

“How do you live down here?”

“Haven’t I told you? I am an Emperor. Hard to kill.  Harder
to teach.”

“If you’re so old, what would you want to learn?”

“I would learn forgiveness, but alas, I not only lack a
tutor, but I am a poor student.”

William went to his bag and removed a bolt cutter. Without
explanation, he cut the chains.

Kin listened intently, unaware of his surroundings,
untroubled by the darkness that concealed the Reaper’s expression.

“The chains were so brittle I could have pulled them apart
with my hands. I don’t know how or why he was in the Iron Box sewer, but the
next night he was gone.”

“What happened when you cut the chains?”

“He fed me the food I brought him and gave me wine. It
tasted like water and the food nearly made me pass out it was so good. He told
me a final story as I ate, then showed me what he looked like before he
imprisoned himself.”

Kin pondered the tale and wonder how much of it Orlan heard
before he snorted and swore. No one accused the sergeant of sensitivity or
patience.

“That’s an incredible story.”

William jumped up and down. “You don’t believe me.”

Kin wanted to back away. An angry Reaper was an intimidating
sight. He moved forward, touching William’s hands, hoping to calm the boy.

“I believe you, William. But I don’t know what it means.”

William followed him to the cavern, though he refused to
talk.

KIN sat next to Nander and passed
him a skin of wine. He could tell the man had never seen anything like a
festival. The People of Crater Town scarcely possessed enough food to last a
week, but there were many streams of clean water at the edge of the cavern
where the ancient armada rested.

“Why are they so happy?” Nander asked.

“Captain Raien is very popular. They’re glad she’s alive.”

Nander nodded. “Every army needs heroes.” He seemed to
reconsider as he watched people play. Though it was a celebration, many men and
women tended to mundane tasks in the midst of it all. Boys and girls carried
water from the streams. Some of Laura’s more tech-savvy people salvaged what
they could from the nearest ship and rigged lights on makeshift poles.

“Without training, I assumed they would be weak and afraid.”
He paused, then turned toward Kin. “The shepherd can fight.”

“He can.”

“I admit that I tested him while you rescued Captain Raien.
The contest was honorable. I could have killed him, but his courage impressed
me.”

“I suppose you think I should thank you. Remember this,
Nander, the next time you raise a hand against one of my people, you’re dead.”

Nander accepted the warning with a respectful nod, though he
didn’t seem afraid. “Fair enough.” He took a pull from the wineskin. “These
people would be useful as workers for the Mazz.”

“I’m going to pretend you are speaking hypothetically.” Kin
stood.

Nander offered the wineskin.

“Keep it.”

Kin found Orlan performing maintenance on his remaining
weapons. The trooper looked up, clearly annoyed.

“You may like running around in your skin, but I need my
armor. What good does it do to escape Reapers and wolves if Salamanders burn us
to ash?”

Kin sat on a stool near Orlan’s workbench. “What do you make
of this fleet?”

Orlan finished reassembling his rifle and laid it down.
“I’ve never seen ships like this, not even in history books. Yes, I can read,
so shut your mouth. I recognize the markings. This had to be the first fleet
Earth built.”

“A fleet no one ever heard of.” Kin stared at the closest
ship as they talked. Laura’s team of scavengers hadn’t been able to get inside
and settled for taking pieces from the exterior and the few storage bays where
they found limited access. Crater Town people were expert at tearing ships
apart. Salvage operations had been a crucial part of their survival since the
Goliath
went down, yet the bulkhead of this old thing couldn’t be breached.

“That isn’t the strangest thing,” Orlan said as he
disassembled his pistol.

Kin waited.

“I’m sure someone has been here. Couldn’t find any tracks,
but my gut tells me there was evidence of people living here until they cleaned
up.”

Kin shivered. “I suppose it’s possible. Ships are designed
for long space voyages. If the engines were warm, I’d almost believe people
could be alive inside these things.”

“Possible, but unlikely. My bet is that a group like ours
found this place and moved in.”

Kin gazed at the people of Crater Town. He turned to Orlan.
“Have you told anyone?”

“No, but they’ll start putting the pieces together before
long. Not sure how happy they’ll be about it.”

“Maybe Clavender put them here. The only way so many ships
could get inside the planet is through her wormhole manipulation.”

Orlan shook his head. “She would have said something, or at
least hinted at it. Has to be someone else, someone like her.”

Kin began a tour of the area. Orlan walked beside him,
brooding and staring into shadows. Each ship displayed weapons, though they
looked insignificant. He couldn’t tell if the protruding tubes were kinetic or
energy devices. He guessed they were rocket launchers. The armada was prepared
to defend itself, but seemed incapable of attacking an enemy like the Imperials
or even the modern Earth Fleet.

“Exodus,” Orlan said. “This was some kind interstellar migration.”

“Check on Raien. I’m going to see what Nander has to say.”
Kin returned to the Imperial prisoner.

“I saw something interesting about two clicks from Sophia’s
Pass,” Kin said as he sat next to Nander and carved a slice of dry bread from
the makeshift table.

“I don’t know where Sophia’s Pass is located.”

Kin placed the knife next to the food. “You know.”

“Perhaps,” Nander said. “But not by that name. Our survey
maps are better than those we captured from Earth Fleet. We use numbers. For
the sake of precision.”

Kin chewed, chased the bite with water, never taking his
eyes from the Imperial. “So if I described three devices situated in a
triangular pattern and bored deep into the ground, you wouldn’t have any idea
what I’m talking about?”

Nander looked at his food. He closed his eyes briefly, and
released the hard bread. “Things might be different if you had come to us with
that information earlier.”

“One of your troopers found it. You’re telling me he failed
to report the presence of alien technology.” Kin waited, testing his theory
about the wormhole beacons.

“Many patrols are missing in action. Killed by Earth Fleet,
Reapers, the cursed Ror-Rea…”

“And Slomn.”

Nander met his gaze. “Yes, that is possible.”

“The trooper I found had been melted in his armor.”

Nander moved his finger across one eye in some kind of
religious or ritualistic pattern. “I see your bravery, brother.” He ignored
Kin, closed his eyes, and meditated for a moment.

When Nander relaxed, Kin spoke. “Tell me what the devices
are.”

“What do you think they are? Surely you have a theory.”

“I do, but I want to hear it from you first.”

Across the cavern, music faded. The indistinct sound of
voices murmured as the refugees turned in for the night. Nander watched the
activities from a distance. “The Slomn are more elemental than biological. They
have never communicated with us.”

Kin sensed a lie, or at least a distortion of the truth. He
watched Nander, but didn’t interrupt.

“I am not sure they can. Religious orders claim they are a
destructive force to balance the continuous creation of the universe. Other
treasonous fools preach a reckoning for our sins, as though the monsters are no
more than demons sent to punish the Mazz race.”

“You must have sinned like no one I’ve met,” Kin said.

Nander exhaled, seeming contemplative when Kin expected him
to be angry. “Our only sin is failing the Emperor.”

Kin listened without moving or losing eye contact.

“Someday I will show you the true glory of the Emperor, and
you will understand.”

“Not likely. No amount of glory is worth the life of one
friend. Tell me about the beacons. What are they? Can they be destroyed?”

“The Slomn do as much damage to the wormholes as they do to
the worlds they burn, yet the passages through time and space are never closed
to them. The devices allow their ships to pass through the anomalies less
randomly.”

“Can they be destroyed?” Kin asked.

Nander looked grim. “The beacons can be broken, for someone
who knows how. It is dangerous. A suicide mission, essentially.”

Kin remembered a conversation about wormholes with
Clavender. He wondered when Nander would get around to describing her betrayal
of the Mazz race and was surprised he didn’t start with the Imperial Mazz
versus Ror-Rea war. “Clavender once told me all wormholes are one.”

“Perhaps.” Nander clasped his hands. “But we are not meant
to understand all of reality. The wormholes are part of the universe we can
never reach. What is their purpose? Why is there always a Ror-Rea woman who can
control them?”

Kin didn’t have the answers.

Nander put his palms together, as though he might reveal an
important secret. “Unlike my peers, I don’t believe the Slomn are elementals.
They use science, wormhole manipulation being the most dangerous. When they
attack, their favorite tactic is to rise from the burning center of the planet.
They drive wormholes inside planets, then emerge to destroy us. Like
nightmares.”

“Have you ever beaten them?”

“No. Once, we almost destroyed them with their own
strategy.”

“I’d like to hear about that.”

Nander smiled and shrugged. “The Slomn are hard to kill, but
there are not as many of them as you would think. We raced ahead of their
advance, cutting across dangerous galaxies until we found a world similar to
this one. Our engineers mined the planet with explosives so powerful, were I to
describe them, I might be tried for the crime of sharing vital war technology
with an enemy.”

“Just for describing them?” Kin pushed down memories of
Hellsbreach. The tactic Nander so lovingly described was exactly what he had been
ordered to do on Hellsbreach.

“Just.” Nander sat a little straighter. “Have you ever seen
a planet explode?”

Cold fear spread across Kin’s body. “No.”

“An awesome sight. Unfortunately, only the Slomn vanguard
was inside the planet. Their main fleet caught us gloating and destroyed better
than half our number. We fled right into the domain of Earth Fleet.”

“Why attack the Ror-Rea when your mortal enemies pursue
you?”

“Because Clavender refused to help us.”

Kin knew an evasive answer when he heard one. He was about
to confront Nander when the man changed the subject.

“Have you communicated with the people hiding in these
ships?”

Kin looked over his shoulder at the nearest vessel, stalling
for time. Did Nander know something, or was he guessing? “What makes you think
there are people inside?”

“Same as your friend Orlan. This cavern is too clean. Not
enough dust. It’s been swept away—to cover tracks or other markings most
likely.”

Kin stood and checked his weapons. “Next time we talk, you
are going to answer questions.”

“You should surrender and fight for us. Mazz Command has
studied your decision on Hellsbreach.”

Kin looked at the man.

“Our analysts believe—”

Kin shoved him down, straddled him, and pushed his pistol
under the man’s chin. “Were you on Hellsbreach?”

“We had agents—”

“Were you on Hellsbreach?”

“No.”

Kin stood and holstered his weapon without looking away from
the Imperial. “Let’s not talk about what I did or didn’t do to the Reapers.”

He walked away and began patrolling the shipyard, finding
himself staring at loading bay doors. Weariness crept through him. He wrestled
with uncomfortable memories and wondered what it would be like to live cradle
to grave under the surface of Crashdown.

Far from camp—far from Nander and his lies—Kin wished Becca
were with him. A rendezvous wasn’t much of a rendezvous if the other person
never showed up. He tried to think about the time they had spent before his
deployment. Wistful memories and daydreams were better than considering her
chances of escaping the Imperials and the Slomn.

He circled the farthest most spacecraft, his rifle slung
across his back and his pistol in the holster. Orlan had already made this
circuit twice. Kin doubted he would find trouble.

For no reason other than a reluctance to return to camp, he
ventured toward the primary tunnel entrance. Closer and closer the pit of
darkness came, until a bad feeling filled his guts. Pulling the rifle from his
back, he moved.

And found Slomn tracks.

Not footprints, but faints streaks on the stone where something
had moved. The more he searched, the more evidence he found. Inside the tunnel
were several patches of glowing marks.

He backed away. When he reached the first ship he hid where
he could spy on the entrance.

Nothing.

He hurried back toward camp, wishing Laura and the others
were still singing and dancing—anything to break the silence. Methodically, he
looked toward other entrances to the cavern and saw darkness.

“Nander.”

The Imperial came to his feet, wide eyed and clearly
expecting the worst.

Kin motioned for him to follow.
“We’ve got trouble.”

THE first Slomn entered the cavern
quietly.

He’s a scout
. Kin watched for the main assault force,
unsure what to expect. The underground terrain practically begged for flank
attacks and ambushes.

On the upside, the camp was safe from Imperials, Reapers,
and Crashdown wolves. On the downside, they were deep in enemy territory facing
world breaking monsters.

The serpent body slithered forward, curving around the first
row of ships without hesitation. The creature searched for something. If it
continued across the cavern, it would find Laura’s camp. Dying in the Imperial
attack would’ve been kinder.

“It’s looking for a particular ship,” Nander said in a low
voice.

“I can see that.” Kin wanted to run toward the camp, but
feared drawing an attack down on the Laura’s refugees. “I’d like to know why.”

“Maybe it knows which ship is occupied.”

The Slomn selected the largest vessel and began to circle
it. On the second pass, the serpent man slowed. Thousands of chitinous legs
uncured from the snake body and reached for the stone floor. The scraping,
clicking sounds of the pointed feet set Kin’s nerves on edge.

“We need to evacuate. The Slomn is going to attack the
ship.”

“Good guess.” Kin sensed there was more to the scene. The
Imperial held back information as though it cost money. “Why is it putting down
legs?”

Nander backed away before he answered. “It needs balance to
cast fire. Watch and you’ll see what I mean. Or you can get the hell out of
here.”

Kin followed Nander, but kept his eye on the Slomn. The
Salamander began to writhe, stretching higher and expanding its chest. He
expected darkness or other psychological attacks, but it seemed the Slomn
wanted only to burn the ship.