Heaven's Queen Read Online Free Page A

to do with Caldswell?” I asked. “He’s not exactly a reckless gambler.”
    “I believe the name is meant as a reminder of what not to be,” Rupert said quietly.
    Not for the first time, I wondered what a man like Caldswell could have gambled and lost that hurt him so badly he’d name his ship after it as a warning. I was still puzzling it over when Hicks called me back with our landing.
    I’d never been to a cash planet before. The Sacred King had banned them in Paradoxian space, and Terrans didn’t bother hiring elite mercs to guard such low-margin operations. Considering what I’d heard, though, I’d always pictured them as barren wastes, hunks of rock stripped of everything valuable by their greedy corporate overlords, so you can imagine my surprise when Atlas 35 Moon E turned out to be actually sort of beautiful.
    It was about half the size of Paradox, a bright green and blue ball basking in the intense combined light of the double star and the reflected brilliance of Atlas 35’s golden clouds. The place had clearly been terraformed within an inch of its life; there was just no other way continents ended up perfectly square. There were only two seas, both wrapped in rings around the north and south poles, leaving the equator and everything north and south of it for thousands of miles as a huge, flat, uniform tract of arable land covered in a forest so green I had trouble looking at it directly.
    As we entered the atmosphere, I realized the brilliant green that covered every inch of the planet’s surface wasn’t actually forest. Or, rather, it
was
a forest, just not of trees. The green came from rows and rows and rows of soypen. Some genetic monkeying must have been going on, because the stalks were enormous, easily ten times bigger than anything I’d seen back home. Even the smallest ones had truck-sized, neon-green leaves spread wide to catch the bright light that shone from every direction.
    Thanks to its pale yellow clouds, Atlas 35’s reflected light shone down on the farming moon even brighter than the twin suns did. Even after we’d cleared the reflective upper layers of the atmosphere, the glare was almost unbearable. But when I looked up in disbelief that anywhere could be so bright, I realized I could still see the stars overhead. Even through the hazy atmosphere and the blinding light, the Atlas nebula shone clear through the deep blue sky, creating a star-spangled high noon that would have been amazingly pretty if my visor hadn’t had to go almost black to let me look at it without burning my eyes. I was still trying anyway when we reached the coordinates for Hicks’s beacon.
    Though the planet had looked like nothing but plants and water from the air, Hicks’s signal had directed us to a small city. As we got closer, though, I realized “city” was probably the wrong word. There were a lot of buildings, but I didn’t see any sign of people. No houses, no shops, no civilian ships, just loading zones, shuttle tracks, and huge packing machines gleaming in the harsh sunlight. No one even came out to gawk as Rupert set us down on one of the huge, open loading areas stacked high with crates of soypen flour, which seemed very odd considering we were landing a xith’cal ship smack-dab in the middle of a Terran colony.
    The escape pod set down with a clunk and a shudder it would probably never recover from, but even so, I couldn’t help being impressed. The little thing had put in a fine show for what was basically a lifeboat. I could shoot a lizard every day of my life and feel just lovely about it, but damn if they didn’t build nice ships. Rupert had just reached up to unlock the canopy when I spotted Hicks jogging toward us across the white paved landing.
    At least, I assumed it was Hicks. I couldn’t see his face since his visor was blacked against the blinding sun just like mine, but I couldn’t believe there’d be anyone else on this dirtball wearing a Count-class suit of Paradoxian