Frost coated the high diamond windows of Bullion Tower before the morning tea could even cool.
On the central communications screen, an obsidian face lit by red embers glared down at the plaza. It was Elder Scorch, the chief thermal director of Vault #3. His fiery beard crackled with sparks, and his teeth showed in an ugly grin.
“Refinance with Lin Mo all you want, country bumpkins!” Elder Scorch roared over the open galactic channel. “You can cancel your debt notes with Vault #1. But you cannot cancel the laws of cold void. Without Vault #3’s Stellar Ignition Cores, your fifty homeworlds will drop to minus two hundred seventy degrees by midnight!”
Across the room, Sect Master Shen Nong-Er dropped his teacup. The porcelain shattered on the rug.
“Our medicine fields,” Shen Nong-Er whispered, his hands trembling. “Three hundred million young snow-ginseng plants are in sprout. If the warmth fails for two hours, the frost will turn their roots to mush.”
Beside him, Lantern-Bearer Commander Gu Deng clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. “Our orphan sanctuaries on Planet Azure have no deep geothermal shafts. Seven million children sleep under glass domes. They will freeze in their beds.”
