Read Online Hellhole by Brian Herbert, Kevin J. Anderson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Brian Herbert, Kevin J. Anderson
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“I had hoped to outrun it, General, but it’ll most likely catch up with us before we reach HQ.”
“Increase speed, Lieutenant.”
The spy gave Adolphus a dubious look, as if he were being tricked, but the skies continued to blacken, and horizontal lightning bursts appeared overhead. The General decided to make Ishop squirm just a bit more. “It’s a bad storm, too – should last for hours. Our weathersats have mapped its extent. Lieutenant Spencer, it might be best if we hurry it up a bit more. Best speed.”
“Yes, General.” The driver accelerated the vehicle to its maximum speed for the final kilometer.
A furious rumble rolled across the sky, accompanied by a dancing strobe-display of horizontal lightning. Surface-to-sky bursts tore up the landscape, exploding little craters in the dirt. Ishop Heer looked quite satisfactorily intimidated. He adjusted his breathing mask, tugged at his filmgloves.
Still staring ahead, Adolphus said, “You see why we place so much importance on satellite launches and climate monitoring?”
The Diadem’s inspector did not argue.
The General had built his home and administrative headquarters several kilometers outside of Michella Town, and now the vehicle arrived at the big estate as the weather grew worse. The large, rustic manor house had gables, a shaded porch, and numerous wide windows flanked by armored shutters. In a crude approximation of a lawn, native vegetation had been cultivated so that it spread out in a mossy, turquoise-colored swath; other sections of landscaping contained languidly swaying lumpy ferns and knotted, hardy groundcover.
His loyal men had insisted on creating a worthy residence for their revered commander, and while Adolphus did not require the extravagance or spaciousness of a mansion, he did want to demonstrate a tangible hope that this rugged frontier world could become civilized.
“Welcome to my estate. I’ve named it Elba – for obvious reasons.” He smiled over at Ishop Heer, a subtle attempt to put the man in his place, to make him feel inadequate. No one in the Constellation bothered with ancient Earth military history, and the man couldn’t possibly have any idea what he was talking about.
“Frankly, it might have been more appropriate if you named it St Helena,” Ishop said with a sniff. He adjusted his breathing mask. “After his exile to the original Elba, the military leader Napoleon – whom you so obviously admire, Administrator – was able to escape and cause further havoc for the legitimate government. After he was defeated and sent to St Helena, though, he died a broken man.”
Adolphus was surprised at the man’s knowledge, even delighted. Not a single one of the previous inspectors had even recognized Napoleon’s name. There was something different about this man. “You know your history, Mr Heer.”
“I did my research on you , Administrator. Your interests are no secret to the Diadem, or to me.” Behind his facemask, he was probably smiling.
Just as the storm’s violent fringe cracked open around them, the driver pulled the groundcar into the underground parking bay, where they were safe from the weather. Ishop climbed out, brushed off his formal garments, and looked around as if expecting a welcoming party. He tugged his gloves to straighten them. “You are required to give me full access and accommodations until my inspection is complete, Administrator. I need to see your home, your offices, your records.”
“As always, I will do precisely as Diadem Michella commands.” Adolphus kept his voice stiff, giving the inspector no clue as to his state of mind.
With the big storm rolling about outside, the residence house seemed large and empty. Adolphus had live-in servants, security officers, and part-time staff, but upon receiving the weather report, he’d let them return to their families in town. For the most part, it was just him and the Diadem’s spy in the big house.
Maintaining a cool smile and
“Increase speed, Lieutenant.”
The spy gave Adolphus a dubious look, as if he were being tricked, but the skies continued to blacken, and horizontal lightning bursts appeared overhead. The General decided to make Ishop squirm just a bit more. “It’s a bad storm, too – should last for hours. Our weathersats have mapped its extent. Lieutenant Spencer, it might be best if we hurry it up a bit more. Best speed.”
“Yes, General.” The driver accelerated the vehicle to its maximum speed for the final kilometer.
A furious rumble rolled across the sky, accompanied by a dancing strobe-display of horizontal lightning. Surface-to-sky bursts tore up the landscape, exploding little craters in the dirt. Ishop Heer looked quite satisfactorily intimidated. He adjusted his breathing mask, tugged at his filmgloves.
Still staring ahead, Adolphus said, “You see why we place so much importance on satellite launches and climate monitoring?”
The Diadem’s inspector did not argue.
The General had built his home and administrative headquarters several kilometers outside of Michella Town, and now the vehicle arrived at the big estate as the weather grew worse. The large, rustic manor house had gables, a shaded porch, and numerous wide windows flanked by armored shutters. In a crude approximation of a lawn, native vegetation had been cultivated so that it spread out in a mossy, turquoise-colored swath; other sections of landscaping contained languidly swaying lumpy ferns and knotted, hardy groundcover.
His loyal men had insisted on creating a worthy residence for their revered commander, and while Adolphus did not require the extravagance or spaciousness of a mansion, he did want to demonstrate a tangible hope that this rugged frontier world could become civilized.
“Welcome to my estate. I’ve named it Elba – for obvious reasons.” He smiled over at Ishop Heer, a subtle attempt to put the man in his place, to make him feel inadequate. No one in the Constellation bothered with ancient Earth military history, and the man couldn’t possibly have any idea what he was talking about.
“Frankly, it might have been more appropriate if you named it St Helena,” Ishop said with a sniff. He adjusted his breathing mask. “After his exile to the original Elba, the military leader Napoleon – whom you so obviously admire, Administrator – was able to escape and cause further havoc for the legitimate government. After he was defeated and sent to St Helena, though, he died a broken man.”
Adolphus was surprised at the man’s knowledge, even delighted. Not a single one of the previous inspectors had even recognized Napoleon’s name. There was something different about this man. “You know your history, Mr Heer.”
“I did my research on you , Administrator. Your interests are no secret to the Diadem, or to me.” Behind his facemask, he was probably smiling.
Just as the storm’s violent fringe cracked open around them, the driver pulled the groundcar into the underground parking bay, where they were safe from the weather. Ishop climbed out, brushed off his formal garments, and looked around as if expecting a welcoming party. He tugged his gloves to straighten them. “You are required to give me full access and accommodations until my inspection is complete, Administrator. I need to see your home, your offices, your records.”
“As always, I will do precisely as Diadem Michella commands.” Adolphus kept his voice stiff, giving the inspector no clue as to his state of mind.
With the big storm rolling about outside, the residence house seemed large and empty. Adolphus had live-in servants, security officers, and part-time staff, but upon receiving the weather report, he’d let them return to their families in town. For the most part, it was just him and the Diadem’s spy in the big house.
Maintaining a cool smile and
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