Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [47]
Chairman Wenceslas sat back at his desk and looked questioningly at Sarein, but the young ambassador only shrugged her narrow shoulders. He asked, “And is this man a decent pilot, Ms. Kett?”
“Oh, he’s the best. So good, in fact, that General Lanyan yanked him from his regular business to fly dangerous recon missions. He’s exceptionally skilled at…unorthodox piloting and squeaking his ship out of difficult situations.”
The Chairman tapped his fingers on the desktop. “I see. So you would like me to intervene and sever his commitment with the Earth Defense Forces so he can fly merchant runs instead of surveillance?”
Rlinda chuckled. “Oh, that’s not precisely the problem, Mr. Chairman. You see, BeBob has already done that. He wasn’t cut out for military service and…voluntarily failed to return from his last assignment.”
Even Sarein was surprised. “You mean he’s one of the AWOL pilots?”
The Chairman frowned. “Ms. Kett, General Lanyan rants and fumes about those ‘deserters’ practically every day.”
Rlinda brightened. “So, wouldn’t it be a good idea to put Captain Roberts back into worthwhile service? That way he could make up for his indiscretions.”
“Basil, the General would throw an absolute fit if he found out,” Sarein said in a low voice.
“And it would only encourage other disgruntled pilots to ignore their orders and desert their posts. I’m afraid we can’t have that, Ms. Kett.”
“Oh, come on now. The Chairman of the Terran Hanseatic League can find some way to make an exception.” She crossed her beefy arms over her chest and stood like a worldtree that had just taken root in his office. “After all, I could have made a far more unreasonable request.”
“That doesn’t mean I would have granted it.” Wenceslas sighed as more messages popped up on his multiwindowed translucent desktop. “The best I can offer is that we’ll allow your friend to fly his ship on our missions. No one will ask his background, and your man should be smart enough not to reveal anything.” He raised a warning finger. “But if he should ever get caught, there is nothing I can do to help him. General Lanyan has a standing vendetta against those pilots.”
“If BeBob is dumb enough to get caught, Mr. Chairman, then I’d disavow any relationship with him as well.”
Rlinda finished her wine in one long drink. Outside, Crenna seemed so…bucolic. “During maintenance prep on the Blind Faith, you could change its name and serial numbers. That should keep you from drawing any attention, especially if you’re doing Hansa work.” She put a big arm around him and pulled him closer to her on the sofa. “Look, I’ll even stay and help you fix up the ship.”
He smiled. “There aren’t many other people I’d trust to tinker with the Faith…but if it gets you to stay here longer, then you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“That didn’t take much convincing.” She poured herself another glass from the bottle and refilled BeBob’s. “As soon as you get the Blind Faith in the air again, you can start flying load after load. Chairman Wenceslas is pushing this full-scale colonization, and there’s quite a backlog already.”
“At least the two of us will be partners again, doing what we do best.” BeBob set the glass down. “Should we seal it with a kiss?”
“A kiss for starters. Just for starters.”
Chapter 23—DAVLIN LOTZE
This world was different: Davlin could tell as soon as he stepped through the transportal. But though he sensed looming danger, he would not leave until he had completed at least a cursory exploration. The Chairman expected a full report on every new Klikiss planet an explorer visited. Every coordinate tile needed to be documented somehow.
The sky overhead was a bruised purplish-red; a primary element of the atmosphere seemed to be distilled shadow. As he stepped away from the blank trapezoidal rock of the transportal, Davlin took a deep breath and coughed at the sour, sulfurous odor in the air. The Klikiss had similar breathing requirements to humans, but the stench made this world unpleasant. He fumbled in the pockets of his jumpsuit,