A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [159]
Basil looked as if his patience had reached its end. “Peter, rest assured that there is nothing you have thought about, no concern you could possibly raise, that I haven’t already considered.” He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, noticing that some of the other advisers obviously held similar concerns. Sighing, the Chairman gave a more detailed answer.
“We know the hydrogues are our greatest threat. We know the EDF has been ineffective so far in fighting them. We know that we’re running out of ekti. Can we afford to turn down a chance to dramatically increase our military abilities and technological foundation because of a baseless fear that the Klikiss robots might have some sinister ulterior motives? The hydrogues are bad enough. We don’t need to go looking for other enemies.”
“I agree that EDF strategy has accomplished little thus far, Mr. Chairman,” Peter said with a thin smile. “But focusing on one threat doesn’t excuse being blind to another.”
A flare of genuine anger crossed Basil’s face. “And what would you do, King Peter? Lead a public rally and hope the hydrogues go away feeling ashamed of what they’ve done? You insist on attending these strategy meetings, and never hesitate to provide your inane input.”
“Yes, Basil, and you have always declined to implement anything I propose.” Peter held them all with his hard gaze. “I suggest that we look into Soldier compy production, have our best programmers analyze the code built into those new machines, and shut down the production lines until we’re confident we aren’t creating our own Trojan horse.”
“Shut down production lines? Preposterous!” said the Director of Industry.
“Another wonderful, useful suggestion,” Basil said sarcastically. “We can’t afford to stop production of the Soldier compies…especially when we don’t know what’s going to happen at Osquivel. If we are defeated there, the EDF will need to replace a large part of our force.”
Peter felt himself growing more upset. “If anyone else here had suggested the same thing, you would have listened to it.”
Now the Chairman stood, more stressed than Peter had ever seen him. “No one else would have made such a ridiculous suggestion. I’m leaving for Mars within a few hours. I already have enough crises to deal with, and I don’t need a petulant King on top of it all. You will stay away from the compy factories. Period. Do you understand? And if you insist on interfering with our discussions, I’ll have you barred from these meetings henceforth.”
Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And which guards are going to prevent me from going where I wish to go?”
Basil played the part of stern parent. “I don’t have time for this, so don’t push me. If you continue to cause trouble, you can be replaced entirely, Peter.”
Every adviser in the small room drew a sharp breath.
Peter remained calm. “Not legally, Mr. Chairman. I’ve read the Hansa Charter very carefully. You may be in control, but the trillions of citizens across the Hansa worlds barely know who you are. I am their King, whether you like it or not—are you ready to stage a military coup to strip me of my crown? Or do you plan to send a quiet assassin into my bedchamber one night? That’s what it would take.” His eyes narrowed. “In fact, Basil, of the two of us, only you, the Chairman of the Hanseatic League, can be impeached and legally removed from his position. Not the King.”
Basil bellowed, “Get him out of here!”
Royal guards came forward, looking flustered, unsure of whose orders to obey. The Hansa officials here knew the King was just a puppet, but what about the guards, the Palace workers, the rest of his subjects?
Peter decided not to press the issue, not wanting to learn the guards’ ultimate loyalties. Before Basil could insist, the King departed