Qualea Drop (The Spiral Wars #7), page 1
Qalea Drop
Spiral Wars; Book 7
Joel Shepherd
Copyright © 2020 by Joel Shepherd
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and is not intended by the author.
Cover Illustration by Stephan Martiniere. http://www.martiniere.com
Titles by Kendall Roderick. rmind-design.com
Created with Vellum
Contents
The State of the Spiral
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
About the Author
The State of the Spiral
Dear Readers
As I wrote in the first 'State of the Spiral' update that accompanied the release of RANDO SPLICER, these books are taking longer and longer to release, because the plot is becoming so much more complicated.
Having said that, I think QALEA DROP is a bit out of the ordinary by the standards of the series so far. I reached a point in the plot where multiple points of view were needed to resolve the scale of what I've created along this part of the plot arc. However, I have some confidence that Book 8 will be significantly more simple, so if this kind of POV-skipping story isn't your thing, or you're concerned that there hasn't been the time allocated to various favourite characters, never fear, this isn't the new normal forever. I've tried to do something different with each book to avoid repetition, and QALEA DROP is the big 'many points of view' grand space opera chapter. And I think that on this occasion, it works pretty well.
I also have hope that Spiral Wars 8 won't take as long to write, but every time I've thought that so far, I've been very wrong. Surely I'll be right someday.
The total number of books planned for the series currently stands at eleven. There is a very good chance that this will increase to twelve at some point, given how books 7 and 8 were originally intended to be one, but subsequently grew so big that they had to be split into two. I don't think the total series length could get to thirteen, but I keep getting new ideas, I'm having great fun writing them, and people seem to enjoy reading them, so who knows? I will follow the logical progression of the story, and see where that leads.
If you'd like more information from me directly, the best way is simply to get on my social media pages (check ‘About the Author’ at the end of this ebook) where I'm generally pretty good at answering questions.
And finally, a request that if you like this series, and would like to see more series like it out in the world, that you recommend it to friends, family, or whoever you think might enjoy it. Writers really do survive off recommendations. Reviews are great, but recommendations or gifts that create new readers are even better. As I've written before, the Amazon algorithm does a much better job of promoting authors who release a book every few months than those who take closer to a year, so if we're going to see more of the latter, with all of the additional plot and depth that longer books entail, audience support is vital.
Thanks in advance,
Joel
Prologue
Cora Debogande hastily fastened the last several buttons on her jacket, gave herself a brief once-over in the mirror, then strode from her bedroom down the main hall and into the kitchen. There her boyfriend cut the last pieces of fetta for the hors d'oeuvres, placed on small plates with crackers, olives and an assortment of their best from the pantry.
"Oh you don't need to do all that!" Cora exclaimed, striding quickly over to examine the only thing that mattered -- the wine. Zach grabbed and showed her one of two bottles.
"'91 Razida Valley," he said. "Good enough?"
"Yes, perfect." The whole spread was perfect, whatever her complaining. "They're coming down the elevator now, I think the Admirals will be another ten minutes."
She strode from the room, heels clacking, past several of her waiting security at the big doors to the living room. They were wired into their own networks, monitoring their information flows, and doubtless had a better idea of where everyone was than Cora.
Back into the main hall, past her favourite Chezelle portrait of Great Great Grandfather Wallace Debogande, and her third-favourite Daondo landscape of the Sarize Marshes at dawn, and she reached the private elevator doors just as they opened. Security was there first, of course, and quickly admitted the elegant lady in the dark green dress and jacket, straight hair pulled into a short ponytail.
"Mother," said Cora, and was a little surprised that Alice Debogande pulled her into a tight if brief hug. She followed it with a longer hug from her eldest sister Katerina, hair similarly straight but longer, and taller than them both.
"The Vice Admiral says fifteen minutes," said Alice, walking her own way down Cora's wide hall, past the black glaze vase with decorative reeds, a tasteful view down to the vast sitting room before the penthouse's floor-to-ceiling views. "Later than he'd said, but what else can one expect from an Admiral of Vice."
Cora and Katerina exchanged glances. It had been their mother's favourite insult for Vice Admirals for two years now. "Mother, Zach's in the kitchen fixing up some things," Cora offered. "I told him he didn't need to prepare so much, but he insisted."
"I do like a man who can cook," Alice declared, taking the well-remembered left into the living room and through to the kitchen.
"Hors d'oeuvres aren't exactly cooking."
"Don't be pedantic dear. Zachary!"
"Hello Alice," said Zach, hurrying from his work to present the demanded kiss on the cheek. It had taken two years for 'Alice' to sound anything approaching natural, toward the woman who was, by most measures, the single wealthiest individual in all human space. "How's your day been?"
"Oh it's about to get a whole lot worse, my dear. Nothing a glass of red won't fix."
"'91 Razida Valley," said Zach, darting back to the kitchen bench.
"Yes yes, very good." Alice deposited her bag on the bench, looking about the wide open kitchen, the spotless expanse of counter top, the long dining table leading to the sitting room, with its sun-drenched view over central Shiwon and the ocean beyond. "No staff, Cora?"
"I had to cancel all my working appointments today because of this," Cora explained. "I gave them the day off."
"I had rather thought this was a working appointment," said her mother, pointedly, as Katerina interrupted Zach's opening of the wine for a kiss.
"Mother, you know I like to have staff around as little as possible. I can do my own organising, and I like the privacy."
"Yes," said Alice, looking again about at the apartment. "Well." It had been a point of contention between them in the past, and was again now. With things so precarious, Alice wanted them all to live back at the house until matters improved. Katerina had agreed, and moved back in with her family to occupy the East Wing, and centralise all the security arrangements. But for Cora, central Shiwon was close to all the galleries, concert halls and clubs, as well as the major schools, music institutions and hospitals with which Debogande Incorporated did its regular charitable works. Plus Zach would curl up and die if he couldn't take a stage in one club or another at two in the morning to jam with friends, and all his conservatory and teaching work was just blocks away. From the hills, it was a hike, and he already found the security a pain.
Zach handed each of them a glass, leaving Katerina's on the bench as she wandered off to take an uplink call. "So," said Alice, regarding Cora over the rim of her glass. "Show me." She beckoned impatiently with one hand.
Cora sighed, unbuttoned her jacket once more to reach within and withdraw the seven millimetre Taranto automatic. She pointed it away, removed the magazine and checked to be sure the breach was empty as she'd been taught, then handed it to her mother.
Alice examined it skeptically. "It's quite small."
"It fits my hand. Pulchaya says I'm quite good for a beginner." Ernest Pulchaya was the head of Cora's security -- a young former army special forces officer whose duties now included teaching his younger charge self-defence. Phoenix had been gone for more than two years now, and the threat from disgruntled Fleet Command had been ever-present for all that time, but still it had taken until now for Alice to agree to her daughters being armed. The change of heart had come, Cora knew, from the recent, terrifying turn of events that had changed everyone's strategic calculations. Now no one knew what to ex pect.
"And it just fits in there, does it?" Alice wondered. "Is that a shoulder harness?"
"A small one, yes. That's the advantage of a small weapon, no one can even see I'm carrying it." Alice handed the gun back, and watched distastefully as her daughter replaced the magazine, checked the safety, and tucked it away.
"And how is the Togiri coming along?"
"It's actually really interesting. I wish they wouldn't insert all that family and clan status into their adjectives, though. Still, it's easier than Porgesh, they've got forty-seven variable modes of address depending on rank and house. Lisbeth says she was fluent within a year! It barely seems possible."
"I think what it tells us is that Lisbeth has changed quite a lot." Cora could hear the pride in her mother's voice. Once, they'd all worried that Lisbeth was wasting her potential. No longer. And though Cora did not like to admit it, tales of Lisbeth's extraordinary change of circumstance made her more than a little jealous. She'd always been better at languages than Lisbeth, and news of Lisbeth's fluency in the mysterious parren tongue had inspired Cora to employ a Togiri instructor. She was fairly sure Lisbeth didn't speak that one yet.
They talked until the Admirals arrived, about family things. Cora's father was away to Peroni IV on a business trip, and would not be back for a week at least. Various cousins and uncles had graduated, or changed jobs, or announced impending weddings. A one hundred and ninety six year old great great great uncle would die soon, to no one's surprise. Alice's mother Poppy Debogande, Cora's grandmother, had a one hundred and fiftieth birthday approaching, and was planning an enormous party at her ranch in the wilds of Homeworld's northern continent.
"This is why we're all so much better off that she handed the company to me as early as she did," said Alice with exasperation. "I love that woman, but she has the most appalling timing."
Pulchaya leaned around the doorway. "Cora, the admirals are down on the roof. They'll be here in two minutes."
"Thank you Ernest." Cora noticed Alice's raised eyebrow as the security man withdrew. "What? I asked him to call me Cora."
"When Erik returns, I'll have him discuss with you the importance of appropriate distance in working relationships," said Alice. "Now come, let's go to the other room. I am not waiting by the elevator to welcome some Vice Admiral."
In the sitting room, Katerina was fiddling with the holographics by one wall to produce a 2-D image of Deirdre Debogande, shimmering in blue. "Hello Deirdre dear!" announced Alice. "How are things up in the real world?"
"Things are good, mother," said Deirdre. The image was 2-D, Cora guessed, to keep the frame close-in, and save her from standing. "Hi Kat, hi Cora... is Zach there? Oh yes, hi Zach!"
Deirdre was up on Ajar Station with her family, the necessary place from which to operate Debogande Incorporated legal wing. Eighty percent of the family business happened in space, and most of those nuts-and-bolts people closest to the action were based on one of Homeworld's major stations. Besides, the Debogande Family was a spacer family by political allegiance, and it would look very poor indeed if the only one of Alice's children to be operationally based in space was the infamous Erik.
From up the hallway, the elevator door opened, then footsteps approached down the long, polished floor. Two marines entered, black dress uniforms, sidearms in holsters, and surveyed the room. Four Debogande security placed about the room watched them back -- two of Cora's, two of Alice's. Back in the hallway, and on the landing rooftop, were six more. As was Alice's preference in all such meetings, the Debogandes had their Fleet visitors entirely surrounded.
The two marines -- a staff sergeant and a corporal -- indicated for the men behind them to enter. The Vice Admiral was tall for a spacer, broad-shouldered and dark, with many freckles. Behind was a Rear Admiral, this one a woman, short and slender. They stood shoulder to shoulder, an adjutant Lieutenant behind them, and offered no handshakes.
"I'm Vice Admiral Tsune," said the big man. "This is Rear Admiral Bostrom. Ladies." He looked about the room, finding and examining each Debogande in turn, in the manner of a man who knew them only from briefings.
"Admirals," said Alice. "Would you like a drink?"
"I'm on duty, so no." Alice raised her eyebrows. It hadn't stopped senior Fleet officers before. Tsune's gaze settled on Zach. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"I'm Zachary Dubois," said Zach, slightly alarmed. "I'm... I'm Cora's boyfriend."
"I'm sorry kid, this isn't a place for boyfriends. You're going to have to leave."
"Zachary stays," said Alice. "I'll not have my family divided by varying levels of security. Cora and Zach live beneath the same roof, and have done for five years. If you can trust any of us, you can trust Zach."
The heavy-set Vice Admiral glowered at her. "We're about to discuss the most sensitive information Fleet has. No boyfriends."
"You are in no position to dictate terms to me," Alice said icily. "You're here because nothing Fleet are currently attempting will work without us. This family conducts its internal business according to its own rules, Admiral, not to yours."
There was silence in the room. Cora was pleased that her mother was defending Zach, but nonetheless thought she'd stepped too far. There was no saving humanity from anything without Fleet. Whatever their differences, Fleet remained indispensable. But in defence of her family, Alice was prone to extremes, and thought it wise to remind Fleet of that fact regularly.
Tsune took a deep breath. "All right. I will remind everyone that what we are about to discuss cannot leave this room. Already there are rumours, and Fleet is doing everything it can to prevent panic."
That was code for massive censorship, Cora knew. In her last several media interviews, senior journalists had questioned her in hushed, incredulous tones about what the hell was going on with Fleet. Cora had claimed ignorance. A number of independents had been removed from the networks, several of them taken away for questioning, and a few more had announced unexpectedly long vacations to quiet holiday spots. Everyone knew there were new things they were suddenly not allowed to talk about, but very few knew what they were. The tension amongst media and famous people everywhere was palpable.
"The medical divisions have diverted all available manpower to isolating the synthetic virus," said Tsune. "Only I'm constantly corrected by the meds, they tell me it's not a virus, it's a perfectly engineered killing machine. It obeys no known laws of natural biology, save that it imitates those it can best utilise to reproduce and spread. The extent of that spread is extreme. The inner systems have it worst, the outer systems less so, and it appears most concentrated in the cities. We've never noticed it until now because, obviously, it's microscopic, and has thus far lain inert and produced no symptoms, and shown up in no tests. Its reproductive mechanisms are ingenious, and far beyond any technology we possess ourselves. Most medical technology does its best to imitate nature, but fails to match nature's ingenuity. This technology far exceeds it.
"Every resource is being thrown at finding a cure -- as you'll know, through Debogande Medical, and your commercial interests in several other leading medtech companies. But many of those top researchers are now reporting to Fleet rather than to you, so you'll not have received their latest findings.
"This thing appears to be unkillable. It's not strictly biological in any manner we understand. Its key component parts are synthetic and nanotech, so it simply will not respond to traditional biological cures. It actively fools antibodies into thinking it's friendly, and when we retrain the antibodies, it switches tactics. The damn things behave as though they've achieved some kind of swarm intelligence. Imagine trying to fight a virus that behaves as though it's consciously aware, and can counter your efforts to fight it in realtime. We try one tactic, it simply switches tactics and now we're confronted by an entirely new problem, leaving us uncertain as to whether our efforts won't simply make it worse. It's managing to somehow communicate those tactical changes to other colonies in other patients, so when we change treatment tactics in one patient, soon all other patients in the ward are showing similar changes.
