Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [129]
She slipped her arm through his. “I’m generally willing to press any advantage, Basil. But you need to give me a clearer description of what you mean.”
He turned to her with an impatient sigh, as if he expected the answer to be obvious. “Your sister Estarra is the Queen, but you are now the oldest member of the Theron ruling family. Your two brothers were killed by the hydrogues. Your parents clearly have no desire to resume their leadership roles, which they never fulfilled very well in the first place.”
“They may not have had the…gene of political ambition, but they tried their best.”
“Fortunately, Sarein, I know you have that gene. After due consideration, I have decided it would be best for everyone concerned if you returned to Theroc and demanded your place as…Mother Sarein.”
She turned away, stung. “It’s not a matter of demanding, Basil. My parents would be all too happy to hand over the throne to me.”
“All the better then.” He drank his iced tea as if the matter was over.
When he had first taken her under his wing, she had known that the Chairman was using her reciprocally to gain some advantage with the stubbornly uncooperative Therons. But as the hydrogue crisis dragged on with no resolution in sight, she had begun to feel like a pet waiting for table scraps whenever he deigned to notice her. Why was Basil trying to get rid of her? What had she done?
“But I’m not sure that’s what I want to do.” Sarein had seen the images brought back by EDF rescue ships and had no desire to see the blackened scars, smell the smoke in the air, or watch the beaten survivors numbly going about their hopeless task. “Considering my current role here, that would be a step…backward.”
Basil’s gray eyes bored into her. “Not for the Hansa. Don’t be selfish.” He stroked her arm gently; the gesture did not seem a spontaneous display of affection, but a calculated movement designed to evoke a response. It took a conscious effort for her not to flinch from his touch. “Our very equilibrium is at risk, but if everything is handled perfectly—by me, by you, and by all the others I rely upon—the Hansa can come out stronger. We’ll smell like roses.”
She no longer liked the taste of her tea. “But only if I become the next Mother of Theroc?”
“That could well be the key. Walk with me.” Together they strolled along the winding gravel paths, smelling the sweet citrus flowers. “I have always had a grand vision for humanity. Before the hydrogues came, it was a dream, a long-term plan. When the Spiral Arm was an open playing field and interstellar travel seemed a remote possibility, it cost Earth nothing to let the eleven generation ships wander away like fledglings leaving the nest. Now, however, the situation has changed. Facing a foe such as the hydrogues, we must stand together with unity, as an empire, not with the anarchy of a dysfunctional family.”
Sarein had always been swayed by his passion and his heartfelt dreams. Never before had she been bothered by how he talked to her, but now she felt that Basil was trying to manipulate her like artist’s clay. He wasn’t usually so clumsy, so obvious. But he had been slipping lately, showing tiny ragged edges of stress and volatility.
He continued: “After so many people have suffered, so much damage has been done—the slate has been wiped clean. I see the real possibility of reuniting all the threads of humanity, tying together our scattered prodigal children—the Therons, the Roamers, and all the Hansa colonies. It’s got to be done! We can use this turmoil as a catalyst to unify all humans against the hydrogues…or against any enemy, for that matter. Who knows what the future may hold?”
Basil continued to talk, bitterly cursing former Chairman Bertram Goswell, who had originally allowed the Roamers to break away. The entire Hansa had paid for that