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

belt, Sophie slit the protective polymer wrap.
    Devon came up flushed with excitement. “We’ve got a whole tank of trout fingerlings, Mother. Our fish hatcheries have been waiting for those. The algae and weed stock for the ponds should be ready. Before long, I’ll be able to go fishing!”
    Her heart went out to him. “Oh, Devon, I’m sorry I never took you fishing on Klief when you were a boy. It’ll be a great experience for you.”
    Her eighteen-year-old son had studied records of their former home planet. He had only been ten when she’d taken him to the new colony in the wake of a painful divorce. She didn’t regret coming here, and Tiber Adolphus was a thousand times the man her ex-husband had been – but Devon had been forced to grow up in a much more difficult place than Klief, and this planet had little to offer a growing boy. Now that he was of age, Devon was a good marriage prospect: strong, classically handsome, and good-natured . . . and his mother’s wealth and influence in the colony town didn’t hurt. Unfortunately, Hellhole didn’t have many available women in his age group.
    Devon continued to chatter. “Carter also snagged us a crate that was marked ‘Livestock Embryos.’ I figured we could use those.”
    “We can always use livestock embryos. What kind of animal?”
    “Goats, I think.”
    “The meat isn’t to my liking, but goats survive here better than most other animals. At least it can be processed into sausage or jerky, and the milk and cheese is useful. Good job, Devon.”
    The sealed container drew her attention again, and Devon helped her remove the rest of the polymer peel to reveal dirt-encrusted masses with woody protrusions – the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
    Devon touched one of the roots. “They survived the passage, but can they survive planting here?”
    “So long as we give them tender loving care.”
    Sophie had been waiting six months for this rootstock to add to her vineyards. She had already been producing red grapes, but if these vines took hold – if she watered, fertilized, and protected them from the harsh weather – she might be able to add a Riesling to her catalog. Tiber would love it; not because he preferred whites to reds, but because it was another mark of much-needed civilization – of civility – on this planet.
    “I want you to take care of this personally, Devon. Let Carter and Elbert manage the other shipments in the warehouses. Tell them to hurry, too – the weathersats show a growler coming into the area this afternoon.”
    Devon bolted off with more urgency than was actually necessary. She felt a glow of pride; he was a good kid.
    “Excuse me, are you Sophie Vence?” came a gruff voice.
    She turned to see a boulder of a man with a neatly trimmed dark beard, and a light blue pajama-like uniform identical to those of his companions, who stood together at some distance behind him. They were of mixed races, hair colors, complexions, and physical builds, but they all looked oddly the same. Sophie couldn’t identify the religious sect, nor did she care. Hellhole got more than its share of fringe groups and cults, an endless string of nuts, but the General insisted that all newcomers be tolerated, provided they adhered to certain ground rules.
    She proffered her formal business smile. “Yes, that’s me. How can I help you?”
    “I am Lujah Carey, and I represent the Children of Amadin. We require equipment and materials. I understand you are the best person to provide them.”
    “You weren’t steered wrong, sir. What do you have in mind?”
    “Everything we need for survival. We could not bring much when we left Barassa, so we liquidated all our possessions to provide money to buy the necessities.”
    “This isn’t like a shopping mall on Sonjeera, Mr Carey. Although our manufacturing gets better every year, most of the big items still come in by stringline, and half the time we don’t get what we asked or paid