Of Fire and Night - Kevin J. Anderson [199]
Jess raced down streets and between tall angled complexes of the strange city. His senses were alert for any hint as to where he might find the human prisoners. As he searched, wental senses directed him, helped him track down the protected prison. Seeping through water molecules in the air, the wentals seemed to know he was growing closer every moment. Tasia was somewhere nearby.
Down in the streets among inverted bridges and Möbius-strip arches, liquid-crystal forms gathered like puddles of mercury to stand against him. The hydrogues in this citysphere were aware of his intrusion and pulled together to prevent him from succeeding in what he had come to do.
The diminished water-and-pearl ship drifted to a halt as the hydrogues blocked its passage. Pooled in front of Jess's vessel, the hydrogues rose into shapes, coalescing until they all stood in front of him as an army of perfectly identical, exquisitely detailed replicas.
Jess could not move.
They were all Ross.
116
ZHETT KELLUM
When all the Roamer ships were full of wentals from the living oceans of Charybdis, Speaker Peroni dispatched her squadrons. The planning and distribution had been complex, with so many target planets and a limited number of ships to do it. Zhett Kellum damn well expected to do her part.
In groups of twos and threes, the hodgepodge vessels flew to their chosen infested gas giants. The fourteen Plumas tankers, even the small cargo and passenger cruisers, were filled to bursting with wentals, enough to engulf the drogues in a massive, multipronged assault.
On target and on schedule, Zhett and her father flew their water-laden cargo haulers toward the first planet on their list: Welyr, a burned-out-looking gas giant where the rusty clouds reminded her of old bloodstains. Zhett's father had requested this world in particular. He had a score to settle here.
"I took too damn long to ask Shareen to marry me, but we were planning on it--before the drogues, that is," Kellum mused over the transmission line, sounding regretful. "Those bastards smashed her skymine right down there."
"Oh, Dad," Zhett said from her cargo hauler. She could barely remember her real mother, who had died when Zhett was very young. Her father had always been businesslike and independent, and Shareen Pasternak was also tough and stubborn. The two had made a perfect couple.
He continued, "Never had a chance to say goodbye. I'm glad to be doing this for all the clans--but by damn, this is personal for me."
"Let's send those warglobes packing and get on with our lives."
"Are you sure you wouldn't like to strike the first blow, my sweet?"
She snorted. "There'll be enough drogues for all of us, Dad."
The two water-bearing ships dove toward the upper layers of the ruddy gas giant. Cargo hatches opened, spilling thousands of liters of energized water, and the freed wentals dispersed into the swirling clouds.
Cruising along, the ships roared above the misty layers, continuing to drop a rain of water elementals. When they were certain the task was accomplished, they ascended to a safe altitude. Peering through the slanted cockpit panes, Zhett watched rapid storm systems form as the wentals spread out from the seeded clouds like a flame front devouring dry tinder.
"If warglobes come after us now," she said, "they're going to run smack into spreading wentals."
The Roamer ships had swung over to the nightside of Welyr. Zhett resisted the urge to spill even more water into the dark clouds. The wentals were already propagating swiftly enough. She could tell her father was anxious to move on.
"Save some for the next gas giant, my sweet," he transmitted. "We've done what we need to do, and it's time to head off to our second target."
"Then let's be off. Just