A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [258]
Mr. Pellidor had planned the evidence so carefully, linking the murder with the Roamers. Now Basil had promptly rescinded the sealed orders he’d sent to EDF battlegroups. No longer could he send out the battleships to track down and impound all Roamer ships, with the intent of forcibly bringing the gypsy clans into the Hansa, under appropriate control.
It should have been an easy victory. It should have strengthened the Hansa and the whole human race. But the King had screwed it all up.
That was exactly why Peter needed to be replaced with a more tractable successor.
But for the time being, the Chairman had no choice but to maintain the illusion that annoyed him so much. In order for Hansa business to continue without hindrance, Basil would have to work with King Peter.
As he gazed at the sunshine reflecting off the Palace cupolas, he longed for the days of Old King Frederick. Basil had sometimes treated him badly, putting Frederick down in private meetings and rarely giving the old man due consideration. Nevertheless, the previous King had accepted his role and willingly served as a figurehead to reassure the populace.
But not Peter.
The streetwise kid Raymond Aguerra had seemed the ideal candidate, yet his complacent cooperation had changed. Basil couldn’t understand where he had gone wrong. Peter had challenged Basil numerous times, pointedly trying to erode the Chairman’s power while shoring up his own illusory foundation of command and responsibility.
As he stood in his penthouse, Basil looked across at the sparkling brass-domed WhisperPalace. People were so easily dazzled by facades. Only the cognoscenti understood that the real power emanated from the businesslike Hansa HQ, not the fancy Palace.
The Chairman knew he needed to do something, accomplish something—even if it was, in the end, a Pyrrhic victory.
Stern but uneasy, Basil had finally issued the order for another Klikiss Torch to be prepared, another gas-giant target considered. The rout of the EDF at Osquivel and then the unprovoked hydrogue attacks on both Corvus Landing and Theroc itself had finally convinced him to cast aside all restraint.
The Klikiss Torch was the only effective offense the humans had, even if it was a doomsday weapon. Using the ancient alien technology was guaranteed to obliterate an entire hydrogue world. But the enemy’s actions had left him no other choice…
A signal came across the intercom system. Franz Pellidor said, “Mr. Chairman, two visitors have just arrived from the Earth spaceport. They insist you will want to see them.”
“They have a lot of nerve not going through proper channels.” Basil scowled. Especially today.
“They do have your authorization, sir,” Pellidor said. “It’s a trader woman named Rlinda Kett and a man, Davlin Lotze. They refuse to tell me what—”
With a loud click, Basil set his cup on top of the projection desktop. “Send them up. Maybe they’ve got good news. It would be a welcome change around here.”
He switched on the polarization film across the windows, blocking the view of the WhisperPalace. He didn’t want to think about Peter just now. The smug young King had made a point of inviting him onto the processional yacht, knowing that Basil believed there was a bomb aboard. He knew! And the Chairman had fallen for the ruse. It was humiliating.
The good news was that Peter now understood the Hansa was perfectly willing to get rid of him. Basil’s warnings were no mere empty threats. Perhaps it would make the King contrite and cooperative…or had the Chairman unintentionally set himself up for a cold war? Either way, he was sure Peter and Estarra did not have enough power or connections to go up against him.
Basil heard footsteps approaching. The large dark-skinned woman, Rlinda Kett, reached the door first, grinning broadly. Beside her stood