Chapter Seven

As the smoke belched from the top, the molten rock flowed as freely as water towards the fissure. It swarmed over stone and soil, destroying several buildings and burning all it touched to ash. It would take several days for things to cool down enough for scientists to take samples and readings to decide if the volcano would erupt again.

Emperor-Priest Akallon IV of Janos watched the spectacle from four miles away, without the aid of any sight-enhancing equipment. He had an excellent view of the eruption from his palace tower. He stood with his arms folded.

After watching the lava stream flow into the crack his experts had created the previous day to control the burning river he turned to cast a disapproving glance at his hired War Marshall. The Marshall did not return his gaze and continued to watch the devastation.

The Emperor-Priest was short but thickly built. He was not handsome but he had an aura around him that made people take notice. His face was leathery and immobile, his hair almost white. The spots down his back, a visual trademark of the Janites, were fading with age.

The handsome War Marshall’s hair was greying. He was human, a strange sight on the surface of Janos. Both their faces glowed red from the light of the cataclysm outside the window.

“I take it the scientists were wrong, then,” said the Emperor-Priest, unfolding his arms and reaching for a warm drink placed on a hovering serving slab before him. The automated servant beeped and floated from the room for more refreshments.

The War Marshall, Areed, nodded with a twisted mouth. “So I see. They predicted the volcano would not erupt until after the four day warning.”

Akallon took a long draught of the liquid and looked around for the serving slab. When it failed to materialise he placed the cup on the windowsill. “It was lucky we had the fissure opened when we did, or the outskirts of the palace grounds would be under lava right now. Have the lead scientist stripped of his rank.”

“It would not bode well for your friendship with the western island Lord if you sent one of his prime scientists back disgraced.”

“It would make things worse if I had had him killed. I did give that option a brief thought.”

Marshall Areed sighed heavily, looking back out at the volcano. “That’s the third one this year, my Lord. The formation of volcanoes on this world is becoming more frequent. The vulcanologists predict they’ll get worse. I think we have seen enough of the devastation of your home. Perhaps a walk to the dining hall is in order. I ordered a shipment of grass wine from Trooak. A very fine vintage.”

There was only silence from the Emperor-Priest. “Areed,” he said softly. “Areed, tell me something. Why, with my great war machine and loyal soldiers, my followers, my influence... why can’t I heal my world? If this planet dies, the Janites die with it if I cannot stop this.”

The War Marshall looked at his employer with pity. Yes, the planet may be dying. Akallon IV was the first Emperor-Priest of the xenophobic world of Janos to begin intermingling with the rest of the Setnin Sector. This gave Areed the perfect chance to ply his trade – warfare and weapons supply. And the Janites had been most generous with payment.

The Emperor-Priest turned suddenley and walked from the room, the War Marshall quickly gathered his thoughts and followed. Areed did not have to worry about him losing power, for he was a mercenary at heart and could find employment elsewhere. Akallon had always paid well and he wanted to hold him to his contract as long as possible.

The walk to the dining hall was short. Akallon walked with heavy footsteps to warn any in his way he was coming through. Guards in the blue uniforms of Janos bowed in deference as their Emperor-Priest passed, and then relaxed back into complacency when he had gone. The Halls of the palace were richly decorated but well lit for the sky outside was always bright with the sun-scorched surface. The brightness leaked through the windows of the palace.

“My Lord,” came a shout down the hallway. Both Akallon and the War Marshall turned. They were about to enter the dining hall and could already smell the freshly baked breash. The spicy odour had caught their attention as they reached this level of the building. The Emperor-Priest looked at the approaching figure with impatience.

“What is it, Gevier?” he demanded of the tall wiry man running towards him. Lord Gevier was thin, almost too thin. The skin over his face was so taught it looked as though it would split with even the smallest expression. His eyes bulged from his bald head.

“My Lord, I have been handed a message from a transport captain recently returned from planet Chinngard. The planet of House Familee...”

“Yes, yes, I know all about the Chinngard bastards and their insolence against Janos. I’m surprised he was allowed to land. I do not like Familee sympathisers on my planet.”

“I understand my Lord, but the captain was most insistent that this message reached you. He said it was a personal message and it was from Fly.”

There was a moment of stunned tension, and the Emperor-Priest grabbed the silver box the Lord was carrying. He stared at it as if it held the secrets of the universe, and then looked at his War Marshall with glee.

“Fly. My contact in House Familee. She is only instructed to contact me when something happens on Chinngard that could benefit me and allow our revenge. Excellent.” He opened the lid of the box and frowned. “The seal has already been broken.” He looked at Lord Gevier accusingly. Gevier held up his bony hands.

“Oh, it was not I, my Baron. I believe it was the captain of the transport. He said that you would enjoy reading it. He seemed like a rather jovial man. Most disturbing.”

“Jovial? Well, let’s see him laugh off an execution. Have him killed and his ship seized and registered in the name of Janos. Add it to our new fleet. He’s a messenger, not a singing comgram.” The Emperor-Priest tucked the box into his robe and turned to head to his private chambers. When the other two declined to follow, thinking that he would want to read the message in private, he turned and waved them to accompany him. “Well, come on, then!”

The three hurried to private rooms, as bleak and bright as the rest of the planet. The Emperor-Priest quickly swept all the piles of pads and charts on his desk to the floor. There was a crash as something more fragile connected with the hard metal floor.

There was no curiosity over what had smashed from Akallon or the others. Their attention was on the box, which was inserted into a recess on his desk and flicked a switch on a small remote.

The top of the box opened, and a beam of light shot up and then expanded to form an unfocused human figure. The picture shifted and the figure could be seen more clearly.

The War Marshall looked at the Emperor-Priest. “Who is she?”

“She’s the aide stationed with the Mind on Chinngard who uses the enhancer. Nearly all of Chinngard distrust the Minds and no one wanted the position, so the Baron had to hire outside help. A perfect opportunity.” Marshall Areed smiled and turned his attention back to the hovering image. The Emperor-Priest continued with a chuckle. “What’s even better is that she’s a spy for the Prime Lord, too. What could be more satisfactory?” Now Lord Gevier was giggling.

The figure on the recording had thin eyes and pale skin, a trait of the Janite people, and she held herself with bearing. “My Lord,” she began with a bow. The Emperor-Priest bowed back with excitement.

“My Lord, I have news from planet Chinngard which I could not send via normal communications because it concerns the Minds so deeply.”

She told him of the birth of the Baroness’s child, and the conspicuous deaths of the Minds at the same time. She told him of what she had learned from her Prime Lord, of what the Minds had told him of the enhancer readings. She told him of the Baron Familee’s passionate refusal to hand his daughter over and the Prime Lord’s plans, in conjunction with the Lordmind, to have her taken at the earliest opportunity. She told him of the possible powers of the child, and what she meant to the Prime Lord and the Lordmind. Most of all, she told him about the great disfavour of the Prime Lord the Baron Familee had earned himself by his actions.

“In conclusion, my Baron, if the opportunity to has ever risen to take advantage of the lowly position of Chinngard and have our revenge it is now. I cannot see a better time. I will report as time and messengers permit. I promised the captain of the transport who is bringing you this message that he would be paid a thousand tokens for his help, and that you would pay this amount. You may deduct from my fee as appropriate. Good wishes, my Lord.” The image dissolved and the box closed.

The silence was broken only by the odd shout within the corridors or the heavy thumping of volcanic activity outside. The War Marshall looked at the Emperor-Priest for a reaction, as did the Lord.

Akallon was silent, stunned, amazed, a plethora of ecstatic emotions he thought he would never feel again.

“Destroy that message,” he whispered to Areed, who scooped up the box and placed it within the jacket of his uniform. Akallon slowly walked to his chair and fell into it.

“Do you realise the benefits of this?” he asked. The others considered the question rhetoric and remained silent.

“Do you realise the position the Baron Familee has put himself in? He is already in the dark side of the Prime Lord’s favour, but this? This is wonderful.”

Marshall Areed stepped carefully over the mess on the floor and took a seat. Lord Gevier looked around for a chair, and, finding none available, chose to stand uncomfortably.

“Baron Familee has given me such an opening to take advantage of it is unbelievable. If I seize his world now, launch a full invasion with my new weapons and fleet, the Prime Lord will almost undoubtedly stand off. And the Setnin Sector won’t help now that Chinngard has decided to part from it. We’ve declared war on the Setnin Sector and they have kept away from us, maybe even ignored our reasoning. Now we will be able to show them we mean what we say – and our first action will be to take the world closest to our borders.”

Marshall Areed shook his head. “The New Republic clearly states that personal agendas are not solid grounds for invasion and the cause must be just. They may intervene. I cannot see anything the Baron Familee has done to you.” Secretly he was concerned. He was fully aware of the Janite hatred of everything outside their borders and their recent declaration of war against the Setnin Sector and her affiliates had been more of a stand of defiance than an actual threat of action. Although Chinngard had parted from the Setnin Sector the Council would see the point of Janos invading the system, with the new fleet of starships and weapons that Areed had helped to supply over the last few years. It would be a sign. An indication to Setnin of the severity of the Janos threat.

But Akallon appeared unconcerned. “It doesn’t matter. If I can find a reason to invade that is even slightly justified then no one will intercede. The Prime Lord may even be pleased that someone removed this troublesome House for him. At the same time we send a clear signal to the rest of the Setnin Sector; and they can’t do anything because Chinngard isn’t part of their precious segment of space.”

Lord Gevier nodded. “That is true. If we can also seize this child she will prove a very useful bargaining tool against the Prime Lord, even the Lordmind. The opportunity has never been better.”

“Never been better,” the Emperor-Priest echoed. “Never been better.” He fell silent again, and the others knew he was thinking passionately. “Imagine it. Revenge against Chinngard for their pomposity, a clear signal to Setnin that we do not simply spout religious propaganda. And, best of all, House Familee reduced to a level of servitude. I can see things looking good for the future of the higher Janos beliefs.

“Let’s not waste any more time. Have my war council convened and prepare an unmarked transport to be sent with an answer to Fly when I have decided upon dates and times and I will have my revenge.”

The War Marshall bowed quickly and walked to the door, followed by the Lord who was still softly giggling to himself.

“Oh, and Gevier?”

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Have a thousand tokens deducted from Fly’s fee. I will give you details.”