A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [68]
Swendsen agreed, and added, “And we’ll certainly need more automated fighters and scouts as the hydrogue war continues. Think of the advantages if we can increase efficiency in the manpower-intensive aspects of the conflict. This might just give us a chance against those damned aliens.”
After another half hour, OX entered to stand beside King Peter. Watching the proceedings, the Teacher compy seemed oddly reticent. The King had previously discussed the matter with OX, hoping to get the little robot’s insight. He wondered if the compy felt sorry for the Klikiss machine…or if OX harbored suspicions of his own.
Peter could not tell exactly when Jorax reached permanent deactivation—in his mind, he refused to think the word “death”—but the scarlet optical sensors gradually dimmed as power bled away. Lubricants and sensor patches were pulled out one component at a time. Finally, with much discussion and reluctance, the scientists bent over together, worked with their tools, and removed Jorax’s flattened angular head. The optical sensors went completely dim, like dried smears of blood.
The two Klikiss observers stood motionless, collating what they had learned. Jorax’s components lay cataloged and distributed around the operating theater. Imagers had captured every instant of the procedure from every angle. The big black robot looked like nothing more than twisted debris scattered after a train wreck.
Peter wondered how the alien robots had decided that this information was worth the cost of one of their own, and why Jorax himself had volunteered for deactivation. What could the Klikiss robots gain by it? Did they really want to give the human race new tools and weapons against the hydrogues? Or would they now use this as a bargaining chip to demand an unconscionable favor from the Terran Hanseatic League?
OX, still beside Peter’s observation chair, was oddly quiet and contemplative.
Peter turned grim-faced to his two specialists and said privately, “Milk this for every possible advantage. We still don’t know what it’s going to cost us in the long run.”
“We’ll get all of the Hansa’s best people on it,” Palawu said.
Lars Rurik Swendsen said, “I can’t wait to use this information. It’s like King Tut’s tomb or the lost city of Quivera!”
Peter took a deep breath. “Or Pandora’s box.”
34
PRIME DESIGNATE JORA’H
Though he rode with Adar Kori’nh in the warliner bound for Hyrillka, Prime Designate Jora’h did not reveal his troubled thoughts. He had to pretend that this errand to retrieve his son Thor’h was simply a political one. No one could be allowed to suspect that the showpiece expedition had anything to do with the failing health of the Mage-Imperator. No one else could read the thism or draw conclusions from it, like his father could.
“My troops have performed here many times,” Kori’nh said, pensively staring into the warliner’s viewscreen. On the edge of the Horizon Cluster, space itself seemed too full of stars. “The Hyrillka Designate loves his pageants, and I’m sure he will be disappointed that I’ve brought only a septa.”
Jora’h forced himself to smile. “Even a son of the Mage-Imperator doesn’t get everything he wants. My brother should know that.” And Thor’h as well.
The Adar lowered his voice. “If I may say so, Prime Designate, it is good that you are bringing your son back to Ildira. He has had a fine time here, but I believe he holds a skewed, and soft, impression of our Empire. The weight of responsibility has not yet touched him. Yet, like you, he is destined to serve as Prime Designate and then Mage-Imperator—though I hope that day is far in the future.”
Jora’h felt cold inside. “Thor’h will serve when called upon. That is how he has been taught. That is why he was born.”
By unwavering tradition, the next Prime Designate had to be a purebred noble rather than a hybrid military officer, like Jora’h‘s true firstborn