Read Online Hellhole by Brian Herbert, Kevin J. Anderson - Free Book Online Page B

bland attitude, he showed his unwelcome guest through the large kitchens and past a meeting room, a series of offices used by government clerks and his household manager, a room full of filing cabinets, and a few empty offices available for use when the colony size expanded; intent only on the main records, Heer apparently found none of the rooms interesting. He noted several comments on his list, without showing them to the General. Adolphus did not offer the man refreshments, nor did Heer ask for any. Once inside the building, however, he did remove his facemask.
    Ishop Heer finally perked up when they entered the General’s private study, which contained his collection of old books, journals, mementoes, and trophies he had collected during the five-year-long rebellion. He stood before a framed piece of wreckage, labeled as shrapnel from one of Adolphus’s fallen ships. “Do you keep so many items as a reminder of your loss, Administrator?”
    “Not at all, Mr Heer. I keep them so that there remains an accurate record of what happened. I’ve seen the official histories.”
    The inspector’s lips pursed in a sour pout, but he chose not to continue the argument.
    In bright pools of light in places of honor, vitrines held six contorted, half-melted artifacts of decidedly non-human origin – rare scraps from Hallholme’s original alien civilization that had been annihilated by the asteroid impact. Long fascinated by the strange detritus, Adolphus had posted a standing bounty for alien artifacts of any kind. Because the cosmic strike had created a worldwide holocaust, he doubted any functional relics would ever be found, but he held onto hope. He liked to gaze into the transparent display cases, pondering the vanished civilization.
    The storm continued to whirl outside, muffled by the armored shutters sealed across the windows. Now that he was in the protection of the house, Ishop Heer focused intently on his business. “I demand to see your daily logs, Administrator, so that I may compare them with all filings since the formation of the colony. I also have the reports of previous inspectors, tribute auditors and planetary-resource assessors. I have a job to do, and you have no choice but to cooperate.” His threat sounded hollow.
    “By all means.” Adolphus allowed the man to sit at his own desk – a moderately generous gesture – called up the databases for Ishop Heer and let him pore over the information. “So you think you can find something that all of your predecessors missed?”
    The spy sounded matter-of-fact, not arrogant. He took out his list. “I’m better at the job than they were. We’ll see if your nose is as clean as you’d like us to believe.”
    “Yes, we’ll see. You have full access. Take as long as you like.” Adolphus stepped away.
    The documents were complete fabrications, of course – there were details he didn’t dare let Michella discover – but these files should be accurate enough to satisfy Ishop Heer.
    As the man read screen after screen, checking off items on his own notes and ignoring his host, Adolphus pulled one of the old volumes from a shelf and relaxed in a comfortable chair, feigning insouciance. Diadem Michella still hadn’t figured out how he and his followers survived their first year here, after she had stacked the deck so heavily against him by omitting vital supplies and medicines, mislabeling food stocks, giving them defective tools and materials.
    She had set them up to fail . . . and yet, they hadn’t.
    Living on Sonjeera, surrounded by the glory of the capital city and her well-heeled advisers, the Diadem grossly underestimated how much support remained for his rebellion, even under her own nose. Among his banished soldiers were engineers, supply sergeants, biological experts, special ops crews, survivalists. Before he departed on his voyage of shame, Adolphus had sent out an invitation to the soldiers’ families and friends, and – to his surprise –