His brow furrowed. “We’ll need your report, General, as soon as you can get down here.”
Queen Estarra contacted governmental staff throughout the fungus-reef complex, calling Roamer clan representatives, Confederation delegates, and any planetary ambassadors who happened to be on Theroc. Inside the throne-room chamber, technical officers scurried to rig the image-relay screens, unrolling and applying them to the soft fungus walls. Everyone was still abuzz with questions when General Keah’s shuttle arrived. A Roamer man in a clean, but well-worn jumpsuit accompanied her: Ron Tamblyn, who had escaped from the Plumas water mines with nothing more than the clothes on his back.
Keah spoke without being introduced, without calling the meeting to order. “We were attacked, Sire. For the test exercises, I had three full battle groups, plus the Kutuzov—and we still barely made it out alive.” She shook her head as the techs powered up the relay screen. “Without Adar Zan’nh, I wouldn’t be making this report—you’d be wondering why you lost fifty of your best ships.”
The wallscreens displayed images of the attacking black robot ships, and Peter felt a chill to see them again. “Those are more black robots than you chased at Dhula.”
“Worse than that,” General Keah said. “The bugbots have allied themselves with the Shana Rei. Creatures of darkness straight out of Ildiran legend.” The dramatic images showed the boiling shadow cloud that opened up like a stain in empty space, disgorging first the robot ships and then enormous hexagonal cylinders.
Keah looked uncharacteristically agitated. “We didn’t know how to fight them. Our weapons did nothing.”
Estarra asked, “We understand that the Klikiss robots have a grudge against us, but we’ve never encountered the Shana Rei. How did we become their enemies?”
“I don’t have a molecule of an idea. One of the robots communicated with us, said that their combined goal was to exterminate all intelligent life, all vestiges of civilization.” The listeners in the room fell into a stunned silence. “In my opinion, your Majesties, that doesn’t leave much room for negotiation.” Keah switched to another file. “Watch these images of Plumas. The Shana Rei just crushed the whole ice moon!”
Ron Tamblyn stepped forward. “My clan lost everything—the Plumas water mines, our trading operations, fifteen tankers. We’re still counting the number of casualties.”
Sheri Sandoval, the Confederation’s representative from the Roamers, looked shell-shocked at the task before her. “How many survivors do you have, Mr. Tamblyn? Our ships can take you to Newstation.”
“That’s exactly where I want to go,” Tamblyn said. “I’ve got family there. My cousin Jess is at Academ.”
Peter said, “We’ll make sure your refugees get the help they need.”
Estarra sat straight in her ornate chair. “General Keah, we’ll want a full report on the damage to your ships and which weapons were most effective. How do we fight these things that have declared war on us?”
“In my professional assessment, Queen Estarra, our jazers and relativistic projectiles did squat. We destroyed quite a few bugbot ships, but no matter how evil the robots are, I believe the Shana Rei are far worse. They consider the robots nothing more than cannon fodder. Whenever our ships got close to those giant Shana Rei hexagon vessels, our systems started to malfunction and break down. Adar Zan’nh sent me information the Ildiran rememberers retrieved from their old historical records. Apparently, the Shana Rei are composed of entropy itself, chaos. Even physics doesn’t work right in their vicinity.”
The dour representative from the planet Ramah said, “Then what hope do we have of fighting them?”
A small smile curved the edges of Keah’s lips. “There is a bit of a silver lining. The Solar Navy found some ancient weapons designs and tested out their prototypes. Laser missiles and sun bombs—they both showed some promise. The Solar Navy will share the designs with us, and we’d better get them into production yesterday.” Keah crossed her arms.
King Peter rose from his chair, and Estarra stood beside him. “Now, more than ever before, the Ildiran Empire and the Confederation need to work together as allies. Prince Reynald is currently a guest in Mijistra, but it’s time that the Queen and I go there to meet with the Mage-Imperator. This is a crisis.” He glanced at Estarra. “We’ll depart for Ildira as soon as possible.”
ONE HUNDRED AND TWO
SHAREEN FITZKELLUM
Shareen’s brother liked to get muddy, so he volunteered to work with the crews in the plankton skimming operations on Kuivahr. Most distillery laborers wore full-body films and goggles to protect themselves from the splashing muck. Toff liked to strap on a life-preserver bladder belt and wade right into the slurry with his buckets and skimmers, tracking down colorful blooms of plankton. He would return to the distillery, oozing and dripping and smelling like rotted vegetation, and he laughed as the other workers hosed him off.
At least it distracted Shareen’s brother from bothering her and Howard, so they had time alone. As soon as Toff had detected that she liked Howard, he became a curious pest, as only a younger brother could be. He hovered nearby until he saw them snatching a private moment, then he made certain to interrupt their conversation. Howard, already quiet and shy, seemed embarrassed, and Shareen would chase Toff away, overreacting with enough defensiveness that she often felt embarrassed, too.
Howard surprised her with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it, Shareen. He’s not so bad. My own brothers used to set up practical jokes and damaged some of my school projects because they were jealous. It’s rough to be the studious, practical one in a rambunctious family.”
“Tell me about it!” She laughed. “Not that I’m really studious.” “Toff is just teasing,” Howard said. “I doubt he’s ever seen you with a boyfriend before.”
Shareen’s heart skipped a beat, but she clumsily deflated the situation with her automatic reply. “Oh, so you’re my boyfriend?” Wrong tone! She felt like kicking herself.
Howard flushed. “Maybe it was just a hypothetical comment.”
“Or maybe not.” Feeling as if gravity had just decreased, she nudged him with her elbow. Maybe she would have to pay more attention to her appearance, as her grandfather had suggested, at least give her hair another look.
Shareen signed out a mudskimmer, marking on the log that the two of them were on a “kelp bed mapping and assessment expedition.” In truth, she wanted to get Howard away from the refinery and out onto the open water for a change. It was going to be a fun day.
With the tide at midlevel, most of the dangerous reefs would be submerged, and the larger ones were clearly marked on the charts so she could avoid them. Howard was content to sit beside her as she piloted the mudskimmer. She wasn’t shy about using the accelerator as they bounded away from the distillery tower, sending up spray behind them. Even Howard started laughing as the wind picked up, and she enjoyed showing off for him.
Shareen swung the skimmer past the outcropping where the ancient Klikiss transportal sat up out of the water. After anchoring the craft against the rocks, they picked their way up the moss-slick black stones to stand before the transportal wall. The alien transportation network had always fascinated her, all those gateways to other planets. Though Roamers traveled widely, and Shareen had seen many places, there was something amazing about the flat trapezoidal wall with its coordinate tiles that offered the prospect of stepping through and instantaneously appearing parsecs away.