Ladder To The Sun (Spoils Of War Book 3)

Book summary

In "Ladder To The Sun," Shakbout is faced with a daunting task as a claimant to the Emperor's throne emerges, threatening to plunge the Inhabited Systems into chaos once more. Alongside Asher, Lincoln, and Hiral, he embarks on a perilous journey, battling formidable adversaries in a quest to prevent a catastrophic war. As the past resurfaces, Shakbout is drawn into a conspiracy unveiling the unsettling realities of war's aftermath.

Excerpt from Ladder To The Sun (Spoils Of War Book 3)

I woke up with my head on fire. Beside me Asher moved slightly in her sleep without waking. Since becoming pregnant, Asher had become slightly restless in her sleep – previously she had been a very peaceful sleeper. I slipped out of the bed and the room and walked down the corridor to Petra’s room and pushed open the door. Petra was curled up under the cover with only her head visible, pretending to be asleep. I knew she was pretending because my head was shrouded in dancing blue flames that did not burn me or the pillow I had slept on. Also, she always threw the covers off her in her sleep.

“Petra,” I said in a level tone, designed to let her know that I would not go away. She wriggled a bit and stretching turned over and looked at me before focusing and registering the state of my head. All very well done; Petra was a capable actress.

“Dad, have you seen your head? What have you been doing?”

“Petra,” I repeated. This time my tone was a little sharper.

“It does suit you, a fiery firedrake. A statement. I like it.”

“Petra!” I said. This was the final time, and she knew it. The flames vanished.

I smiled at her and headed down to make breakfast. Petra was still coming to terms with Asher’s pregnancy; she was excited and a little fearful. We had not all been together for long enough for her to be completely sure about how it could play out. She had started to set my head on fire two weeks previously and, as far as I knew, she was doing it her sleep. I hoped she was doing it in her sleep.

I made breakfast for all of us, left Petra’s on the table and brought Asher’s up to her. She was awake now and sitting up. She was five months pregnant, not showing much but there had been changes. Asher located and recovered violent lifeforms for a living and now she had started to chase down the hidden ones. Very well-connected, well-funded and highly determined fugitives who were actively planning to remain free. They were quite willing to destroy a building to burn a document and Asher had become as much a target for them as they were for her.

I pointed this out to Asher during the worst fight we ever had. I said she was putting Petra and me directly in danger by her actions. Asher told me Petra and I were more than capable of defending ourselves as anyone stupid enough to try would quickly find out. The baby, on the other hand, needed protecting and the existence of the hidden ones was a threat to its safety that she could not and would not ignore. She was going to do whatever it took to protect the unborn child and I had better make the choice as well. The silence that followed lasted for two days while Petra pretended not to notice. I finally admitted to myself that the choice had been made a long time before and I would just have to take the consequences.

“Thank you, love,” Asher said as I entered the bedroom with the breakfast tray. She was sitting up in bed and looking beautiful, healthy, and happy. I smiled at her and placed the tray on her lap and kissed her.

“What do you have planned for today?” I asked.

“Staying here – I have some planning to do,” Asher replied.

“You know that Petra will be here as well? This is a project day, and she has invited her team here to get it completed.”

“Yes, she told me. That is part of the reason I am staying.”

“I could stay,” I offered.

“No,” said Asher firmly. “You are going to have your performance review with Lincoln and there is no evading it. Take it on the chin and don’t let her get to you.”

“Lanken’s tears, you don’t know what it’s like. I must complete a personal review assessing myself against stupid and meaningless items. After that, Lincoln gets to lord it over me even more than usual. Then, to wrap it all up, I get a final sign-off review with the Overseer. I am soooo privileged, I am the only staff member from my grade to be blessed with the direct attention of the Overseer. Everyone already resents me being in the agency but this just rocket-charges it. All for what? I will never get a promotion or a pay rise. It is just a show for the amusement of others.”

Asher looked sympathetic and pulled me down my head to rest on her breasts. That did make everything much better. I finally dragged myself away and headed downstairs. Petra was sitting at the table and was eating the third section of her breakfast. She could eat and enjoy a lot of food without adding any excess weight. I hated her for that.

“Dad,” Petra started, “I need to get our project finished today. It is about the Maklin Recovery Project, and I was wondering if you would have any information?”

“The Maklin Recovery Project? Why are you doing a project on the Maklin Recovery Project? I am going to contact your assessors – that is not a suitable subject for a project for you and your friends,” I objected.

The Macklin Recovery Project was an exploration and development story that had been one of the major successes of 30 years ago. Technology had been developed to allow the recovery of some areas devastated by the war; it was a way finally to stitch up the open wounds that had remained. It was launched in a golden glow of optimism and was proceeding with great success, an achievement of hard work and ingenuity that was celebrated across the systems. Until it was revealed that the technology was a fraud, the recovery process was a thin cover for a slave-labour scheme that was mining the remains for the scrap and other resources. It emerged that there was a widespread web of corruption that had supported and implemented this project to deliver gargantuan profits to those involved. The collapse in public trust threatened the stability and internal cooperation across the systems. Hundreds of millions of innocent lifeforms lost their jobs and prospects in the purge. They paid the price, and it took years for most of them even to be partially compensated. No one could examine the destruction without being battered by it and I did not want that for Petra.

“No, Dad, we chose it ourselves,” Petra protested. “Frache says that her family will not talk about it – they just get angry. She wants to know why. So, we chose it as our family investigation project. If you’re worried, we could investigate you and Mum.”

Patra was very good at this; I blame her mother. I retreated in the face of overwhelming force.

“Well, just be careful, then. No, I do not have any useful information. Mum will be here today so be nice to her.”

Petra smiled and nodded. She gave me my leaving-for-work hug and kiss, and I headed off to survive the day. My commute was ruined by the looming prospect of the review so I could not concentrate on the floor plan for my house now perched on a ledge overlooking the Tamwal terraces below. I was already off balance by the time I arrived at my office space, and I blame that for why I was caught so unaware.

“Screw-Top, who was the last Emperor?” Lincoln called the question to me from inside her enclosed office. I walked over to the door and, leaning against the frame, replied to her without the slightest concern.

“Ingea’s grandfather Kea was the last Emperor. The poor fucker was fed to Badgerlocks by his wife, for some reason.”

“Badgerlocks?” asked Lincoln.

“A rather unpleasant shellfish-style life form that inhabit Hadweel, a ball of water right on the border with deep space.”

Finally, way too late, it dawned on me to check why Lincoln, who carefully never asked me questions like that, was doing so now. I had simply answered without a thought and now the implications of what I had done were griping my guts with icy spikes.

“Why the interest?” I asked. Lincoln had never been interested in empire history and that question was one that rarely came up even among those who were interested. Empire meant Ingea to most.

“Do you watch the news?” Lincoln asked me. Since she became pregnant, Lincoln had developed an intense interest in the news and had a stream open on one of the projectors in her office all the time. For myself, I carefully avoided the news, I found that bad news would find me without any action on my part and good news never made it to the lines anyway.