Hidden Empire - Kevin J. Anderson [208]
They had known all along. The Hansa had recorded the deaths beforehand.
Coldly horrified, Raymond deleted all record of his search, hoping that his caretakers had not bothered to watch his specific movements. He had been innocently busy for hours before he'd looked at anything that might have been construed as suspicious.
Raymond's entire world had changed again, as much as it had on the day of the fire. Now he knew for certain that his family, including his estranged father, had been assassinated, all to tie up loose ends in order to stage Raymond's death. The stakes were high.
Chairman Wenceslas and the Terran Hanseatic League were willing to pay any price so that a young man named Raymond Aguerra could vanish completely and reappear as Prince Peter, their willing puppet.
None of it had been an accident.
Infuriated and sickened, Raymond vowed to resist the indoctrination. No matter what his handlers told him, no matter what OX taught, no matter how much Basil Wenceslas tried to be oh-so-paternal, Raymond silently swore he would remain independent, though he might act cooperative on the outside. In his secret heart, he would refuse to fill the role forcibly laid out for him.
But he would have to be very, very careful.
94 TASIA TAMBLYN
After logging fifty-eight cumulative hours in the enclosed cockpit, Tasia Tamblyn felt as if the Eddies' fastest fighter was almost as efficient and maneuverable as a standard Roamer vessel. She could get used to it.
EDF engineering seemed to require two steps where only one was necessary, but once Tasia stopped complaining about the cumbersome routines and concentrated on learning, she stopped expecting streamlined finesse and got used to the brute-force approach. She could still fly circles around anyone else.
Her Remora bobbed and dipped as she moved her fingers, adjusted thrusters, nudged attitude-control jets. The sleek ship raced through the obstacle course of space rubble at one of the Trojan points between Jupiter and Mars. Her reflexes singing, Tasia played a game of high-speed touch-tag in the asteroid belt. "This is fun, Brindle."
His response came over the cockpit radio. "You have psychological problems, Tamblyn."
Her arms were stiff and her legs beginning to cramp after four hours of high-tension acrobatics. Most of the other EDF trainees had dropped out of the challenge, but Tasia continued to thread her needle through the course. The drill sergeants would scold her for showing off, but behind their stern expressions they'd be smiling with grudging admiration. No one had expected this young Roamer to do so well.
But then, none of them knew the determination of a Tamblyn.
Throughout the exercise, Robb Brindle doggedly kept up with her. He followed her every move, chasing her ship's exhaust stream through the dangerous navigational hazards. "Hey, you intend to leave your footprint on every one of these rocks, or can we go home soon?"
"Turn around any time you want, Brindle. Just make it back to base in time to make me a nice dinner."
"And if I keep up with you, we both have to eat mealpax?" he said. "Shizz, what a wonderful choice you offer."
She flew straight toward an angry-looking cluster of rocks, like a swarm of wasps waiting to sting her ship.
"Tamblyn, watch out!"
"Don't bother with a lackluster little obstacle," she said, powering up her weapons. "Somebody's always trying to put up roadblocks."
She fired a spread of her upgraded jazers, a high-powered laser beam jacketed with a tightly wound magnetic sheath. The beam's double whammy could scramble most solid matter. She cleared a path through the space rocks, vaporizing them into tiny speckles of dust, and plowed right through with a reckless whoop. "That'll pepper your windshield, Brindle."
Already she had trained on many different